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Held
Sometimes your morning doesn’t go according to plan. So instead you gather up your blessing — the one who pads down stairs crying because she wants to cuddle. You remember your swollen-belly prayers...
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Morning
My sports bra sits in my lap. I sit in one of my great-grandmother’s chairs around our old wooden table and think about whether I should make coffee first or just hit the road. I am still wiping the...
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On ordinary mornings and finding our voices
I’ve got to write — I know this is part of the work for me — though I’m not sure where the writing will go. I struggle to find my voice again after a few days away. Why is it hard to enter back in? I...
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Cookie dough in the morning – A Concrete Words guest post at Six in the Sticks
Welcome to those joining for the first time today from the blog of the lovely Nacole Simmons at Six in the Sticks. I’m honored to be guest posting there, along with others who are linking up their...
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A Mother’s Fierce Love (31 Days of Right Here: Day 7)
Here’s my right here: I am a mother. I am a mother in pajamas — the only one awake in this quiet house, wearing an old fleece and warm socks to ward off the early cold. I am a mother woken early from...
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