Dear Maggie, One night last fall, our bathroom toilet flooded. It burst its banks and flowed out into our hallway and down the seams of our wood floors. It might have run clear to the Arkansas River had we not thrown down towels to stop it, creating a wet sort of dam. The toilet water … Continue reading On Leaky Toilets & Ordinary Days
This piece was written for the Lee Creek Baptist Church newsletter, Grace & Peace. On the week that my grandma was passing away last summer, there were members from my family’s church who stocked their fridge with meals---crockpot soups and breakfast casseroles. My sweet grandma had come home on hospice, and we knew it would … Continue reading Hands & Feet Hospitality
My older sister and I grew up six years apart and about as similar as Meg and Jo March. She wore sweaters and scarves; I wore the same Mossy Oak hat several days in a row so I didn’t have to brush my hair. She kept her side of the closet neat; I didn’t know … Continue reading Meg & Jo
This piece was written for the February issue of our church newsletter, Grace & Peace. Each year, I get a little better at remembering to plant bulbs. I wait until the garden has fallen asleep and the late chrysanthemums have stopped blooming, those first few frosts biting at their heads and turning them gray. One … Continue reading Bear Fruit With Patience
It was my parents’ idea to drop me off for the day at Mrs. Rosalie’s duplex in town. I wanted to learn how to sew a pair of palazzo pants, and Mrs. Rosalie had worked as a seamstress most of her life. Instead of plopping me in front of a YouTube video, my dad dropped … Continue reading Mrs. Rosalie
Sometimes, usually when I’m in the kitchen, I find myself thinking about my great-grandma Minerva, Papa Jay’s mom, who had a tight, little face, wore her black hair in a bun, and made him biscuits and gravy from scratch every morning. Papa is getting to an age when he can’t remember things well or often, … Continue reading A Long Line of Quiet Women
I used to go to church with a lady who got teary-eyed on September 11th, remembering how her husband could have easily flown as a pilot for United that day in 2001. As the Lord would have it, her husband wasn't working that morning, but Flight 93 that crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania was a plane … Continue reading Where Were You?
One day a few years ago, I stood on the porch of a lady who'd just had surgery. I had both arms wrapped under a brown Aldi bag with jars of soup and a loaf of bread inside, and I was feeling rather small. As the lady's son took the paper bag and I warned … Continue reading Store Bought Hospitality
Books are a love language, and one of the ways Jared demonstrated his love for me early on was by lending me his pastoral library. I love books, Jared loves books (he has more than I do), and he’s always been generous with them. I’d come home from my visits to Arkansas with commentaries and … Continue reading Two Little Tributes
It was one of those mornings in June when the air was so thick you could almost bottle it like syrup and put it on your pancakes. In fact, I did have pancakes that morning. We'd loaded the van early, picked up my Nanny Karen, and stopped for breakfast at Perkins somewhere off the highway. … Continue reading A Good Soldier
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