The Healing Power of a Small, Good Thing

The Healing Power of a Small, Good Thing

Curled up with the book one evening, I listened to the sounds of my husband opening drawers and stirring pots in the kitchen. My soon to be 7-year-old, came over for a snuggle. He grasped the book from my hands as he curled into my lap. I had just started the first story and my son read to me in his little voice sounding not unlike a Peanuts character. I stroked his hair as he rubbed his foot against mine.

Read More

My Virtual Camino: Celebrating the Feast of St. James in My Own Backyard

My Virtual Camino: Celebrating the Feast of St. James in My Own Backyard

When I started attending St. James Cathedral in Seattle 11 years ago, I said to a friend, “St. James? Which one is he again?”  

“He’s one of the Sons of Thunder!” she said, a little too loudly with a sort of spirited superhero look on her face.

I nearly spit out the double tall vanilla latte I was sipping, doubling over with laughter. “Sons of Thunder?” I asked.

Read More

Why is Loneliness Difficult to Confess?

Why is Loneliness Difficult to Confess?

Olivia Laing describes loneliness as “difficult to confess; difficult too to categorize.  Like depression, a state with which it often intersects, it can run deep in the fabric of a person, as much a part of one’s being as laughing easily or having red hair.”  Laing’s words left me gasping, like a sucker punch to the gut.

Read More

Bagpipes on Palm Sunday

Bagpipes on Palm Sunday

We gathered in the school gym across from the Cathedral as we do every year on this day.  The children are giddy as we pick out our palm fronds to wave.  Parishioners without the obstruction of pews, are socializing with friends and family.  The gym is full of electricity as we look forward to joining the processional across the street and into the church

Read More

Advent: Making My Home Cozy

Advent: Making My Home Cozy

I pull out the boxes of Christmas decorations from the basement the day after Thanksgiving.  My stomach is still full from the night before. It will be another day before we set up the Christmas decorations yet already I feel stuffed, in my clothes, in my home, in my life. The tree will take up much needed real estate in my already tiny front room. I groan thinking of a full month of feeling claustrophic in my house. 

Read More

Memoir: Presence

Memoir: Presence

On my grandparent’s shaggy avocado green carpet, I set up the Winnie the Pooh Weeble house they gave me for Christmas. Chubby Christopher Robin and Tigger go for a ride on the teeter totter.  Pooh slides down the mini slide, rolling around when he gets to the bottom.  “Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down!” I sing as I push them on the tiny swings, after I have given them a nice picnic lunch of honey, of course.  I tuck Pooh into his little bed and sing him a good night song, “Jesus is coming, coming for me, in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye.” The song is about the rapture, when Jesus will come for all those who believe in Him. It will happen quickly and without notice, I am to always be ready.

Read More