-
Jenna’s Writing
During our last house cleaning surge I found a cardboard box with “Jenna writing” scribbled on the outside. I couldn’t open it; felt like Pandora’s box of tears and rage. They say nothing bad happens to a writer….maybe that’s true on paper. I don’t think grief is an unusual place for creativity to ignite, though I do think it’s complicated.Whether…
-
This Father’s Day
We went through your old things; report cards, photo books, trophies, letters. When you were 19 you noted that having an exciting life was a 1 of importance to you (18 being the least). I’d say it definitely wasn’t boring. Did you have any big ragrets? Not even a single letter? The back house smells of 24 and World Cup…
-
Note to Self
waves of grief surges of birth toddler tantrums that feeling of panic like river rapids will it ever end? it always ends.
-
Gardening
I ask God to pull out the roots of anxiety in my mind and body. When I close my eyes, I envision God taking the deep-seated roots, transforming the pain, fear and grief – into love – and planting a garden. A garden of vibrant color, warm sunshine, easy, deep breaths and nourishing beauty. A garden, ever-green and eternal.
-
Two for One
It seems that deeply and compassionately falling in love with myself – every layer – feels a lot like finding God. Or is it the other way around?
-
Thoughts from Inside
Right after my dad died I wanted the world to stop. For everything to be put on hold and for everyone to feel what I was feeling. Breaking News on every channel of the TV: My dad died. 1.5 years later, the world seems to be slowing to a halt. That fictitious thought I had now coming dangerously close to…
-
First Impressions
When I first saw her she was all stick and bones. Her thin trunk, merely the keeper of weathered branches. Had she just lost everything or was she just about to bloom? I couldn’t see her whole story, I just knew she had one. She didn’t seem worried, confident it was just a season; fruitful days ahead. Unattached to what…
-
Christmas Present
As I was on my usual walk through the eucalyptus trees, I noticed an abandoned play structure in a backyard, overgrown with weeds and sticks and leaves. It made me think about that family whose kids are now running around soccer fields, texting their friends and rolling their eyes at the people who gave them life. The once beloved play…
-
Birth and Death, Breath by Breath
My knees met the floor at the side of my bed in desperation, exhaustion. Ironically, the same place I bowed down to birth, I found myself surrendering to grief. In anger and tears, I had lost all strength. The pain was too much. As time recklessly and graciously ticked on, the swell passed. When I got to my feet, I…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Altered Latitude 