After the Silence

141 days tiptoed past my shuttered window undetected their spun cotton gait a mirror of my reticence   When darkness pressed, worry devoured my muse relentless words withered off each fingertip, scattered petals   3,384 silent hours slid, sleek and stealthy unrecorded formless and void without frame of language   When the churning tides of…

Don’t Blame the Nachos: Freedom from an Eating Disorder

You see, I still, after all these years and all these lessons, I still succumb to my eating disorder daily. Don’t get me wrong, it looks a lot prettier than it used to. I don’t pop laxatives like candy and I don’t end a feast on my knees in front of the toilet. I don’t even eat to the point of pain anymore, no third or fourth or fifth servings- no half-gallon of ice cream straight out of the carton. Yet I still…

There Was a Day

Because all the #MeToo’s has me wanting to remind women, you can tell your story and it can be healing. There was a day A day she began To crave the destruction Of hands raised in fury Of jagged edged words Of nostrils flaring over thin lips   There was a day A day she decided To…

The Darker the Night…

Since childhood I had held my personal night at bay with artificial light of my own design: third helpings of pizza and forgetting myself in five books a day, outrageous lies and sexual exploits, hash laced joints and lines of meth, camel menthols and twelve hour workdays. I had always lost myself in a hundred things so that I never had to face the night inside.

The Problem with Christians

I once heard a speaker claim that one of the biggest problems with Christians was a lack of imagination. I don’t remember anymore who said it, or the topic of the speech it was used in. But that part stuck. A lack of imagination? Maybe other Christians! But me? Me!?! I’ve got a vivid imagination.…

Loving Eeyore

The old gray donkey, Eeyore, stood by himself in a thistly corner of the forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, ‘Why?’ and sometimes he thought, ‘Wherefore?’ and sometimes he thought, ‘Inasmuch as which?’- and sometimes he didn’t quite know what…

Strengthen Your Sister

“Why did God let me go through all this? How could he use this ugliness?” That was the plaintive question of one woman I spoke to a few weeks ago. Alcoholism, homelessness, drug addiction, death of a child, broken relationships- her life before Christ was a mess. Even now she was haunted by the consequences,…