Ruffled by Grace

Ruffled by Grace

Some mornings, the holiest thing I do is hold the cup. It’s not the cup it once was. It isn’t the chalice I used to lift high, offering it to the saints in the pews, each one reaching for grace.  But this mug, simple and porcelain, warms my soul as it warms my hands....
Nostalgia for What Never Was

Nostalgia for What Never Was

A single bead of sweat near my temple refused to fall. My gloved hands were far too dirty to brush it away, so I allowed it to repose serenely near the rose-colored handkerchief that was wrapped around my frizzy golden mane. I slumped into the wooden Adirondack chair...
A Million Little Things, With Love

A Million Little Things, With Love

It’s not quite six in the morning, but the metro is already humming. The heat prompts me to dig through my oversized handbag for a folding fan. It probably uses more energy than it saves, but the breeze on my face is worth it. I fan myself a few times before the train...
Jesus Wasn’t a Pessimist, He was Present

Jesus Wasn’t a Pessimist, He was Present

I have a confession: I’m not a silver lining person. Optimism has never been my default. In my family, there’s an ongoing debate: am I a realist (my take), or a pessimist (my spouse’s)? The truth is, I probably waver between the two. But when someone accuses me of...