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  “Mom, what is wonder?” my daughter asks one morning, jumping off of the song lyrics playing on our way to school. I’m distracted. Traffic is bad, we’re running late. I’ve only drank half of my cup of coffee. Wonder.  I start tossing words around to craft a definition within the reach of her ever concrete…

Few things make me feel as confident, comfortable and relaxed as a well laid plan. I crave structure. I do everything within my power to achieve control over my circumstances and environment –  and I consume more post-it notes than one human being reasonably should. Inevitably though, it doesn’t always work. When things spiral off…

I am a child of the early 2000’s worship boom. In big arenas and tricked-out sanctuaries we sang loud, hands lifted and eyes closed softly: “Blessed be your name when the sun’s shining down on me, blessed be your name…” “Savior He can move the mountains, my God is mighty to save…” “I could sing…

Image: Shinichi Higashi “Often times, what is good is the enemy of what is best.” The step mill hums underneath me. Feet moving in time, working against gravity to keep myself moving upward. Step.  Step. Step.  I listen to podcasts while I exercise in the morning. I’m religious about it. Time for my body and brain to wake…

I’m a runner. I don’t run fast, but I run often.  Four or five days each week, hitting the pavement for two to four miles at a time. I do it for my health – both physical and mental. There’s something about the pounding of feet against pavement, and all that matters in one foot after…

The season is finally beginning to change. Day after day after day of grey, sunless light bleeding through clouds is at long last giving way to bright rays streaming in their full splendor, calling to life the grass and trees and flowers. It comes so slowly sometimes, but spring never fails to arrive. I listen…

It was the only day of the year my eyes ever saw 4am when I was in high school: Black Friday. My cousin, visiting from out of town, and I would rouse ourselves before sunrise, pull on our jeans, slap leftover turkey into a sandwich, and drive to the mall near my grandparents house for…

I’ve spent most of my life at odds with myself. Typically one apology ahead of myself (unless my temper gets the best of me – then I’m one apology behind) but always apologizing.  Sometimes explicit “I’m sorry for…” but more often, even my compulsion to apologize hidden. “I’m just like this, I’m sorry.” I feel too deeply. Think…

Can I just pause and tell you the truth? I don’t have all my shit together. Sure, I have menu plans and programming plans and lesson plans and exercise plans and a plan for the time in the day in which I will stop and make more plans. Somewhere in the productivity-increasing spreadsheets and highlighters,…

When I was a child there was a glorious weeping willow growing in my front yard. The willow stood tall and proud and graceful along the banks of the creek that ran through the valley we live in. It was idyllic, like the homestead description in a Laura Ingles Wilder book. I would wrap myself…