The First Year

Our wedding came just two days after spring began, when the trees were still a tangle of bones against the butter-gold forsythia down by Papa's pond. So Jared and I came into the gardening season as stragglers. By the time we returned from our honeymoon, the daffodils were already blooming along our fence, and the … Continue reading The First Year

Hands & Feet Hospitality

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

Bear Fruit With Patience

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

Mrs. Rosalie

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

O Little Town

One December, a few weeks before Christmas, I went down to the square of my hometown to pass out flyers for a Christmas event at my church. I grew up several miles outside of town, so I didn’t frequent the block very often, except for the parade on Memorial Day every year. All the shops … Continue reading O Little Town

A Long Line of Quiet Women

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

Where Were You?

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?

With These She Was Content

This tribute was written for my grandma Naomi's memorial service. She entered Christ's presence Sunday morning, August 17th. My grandma Naomi was a lover of the little things. Looking out her and Papa’s sunroom windows this time of year---when the cicadas are full in the trees, the fish flipping down in the pond, and August … Continue reading With These She Was Content