Eleven Months: How Far We’ve Come

Temperatures have reached the upper 80s here in New England, and we’re enjoying lazy summer evenings now that school has ended. Because of ongoing COVID limitations, we have nowhere we need to go, nothing we need to do. So after the evening meal is finished and dishes are cleared, the five of us sit aroundContinue reading “Eleven Months: How Far We’ve Come”

Christ My Ark: Forty Days of Quarantine

Today is a landmark date in our house — our fortieth day in quarantine. I admit, I’ve been keeping track on the wall calendar in my kitchen. I’m a counter by nature, and marking off the days on the calendar has been a way for me to acknowledge these isolated days and make my peaceContinue reading “Christ My Ark: Forty Days of Quarantine”

“A channel in my self-bound soul”

Today, on Maundy Thursday, the church remembers the last supper Jesus shared with his disciples before his death, the meal at which he washed his friends’ feet. Maundy Thursday is one of the final stops on our journey through Holy Week. There’s a feeling of inevitability that hangs over this day. Everybody knows this momentContinue reading ““A channel in my self-bound soul””

In That Day

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been reading through the book of Isaiah in my daily devotions. More like slogging through, if I’m honest. The first twenty-four chapters have been slow going. One disaster after another. One gnarly, disobedient nation after another. Many mornings my reading has tired rather than inspired me. This firstContinue reading “In That Day”

Eight Months: We Will Feast and Weep No More

I stand before the dishwasher unloading, steam still rising from the clean dishes, when she sneaks up beside me. Wrapped in her worn little baby blanket, my golden haired pixie reaches to unload the plastic cups and bowls from the top row as the song switches on my Spotify playlist. She begins to sing along,Continue reading “Eight Months: We Will Feast and Weep No More”

11 Years Later

Yesterday marked 11 years since my grandfather, Hans Band, died. In the short weeks before he died, I flew to Massachusetts from Chicago to sit beside him in his hospital bed. The experience marked me indelibly. A child refugee during World War II, Hans lived the complex story that accompanies processing intense grief, fear andContinue reading “11 Years Later”

On the Road to Jerusalem

Last night, the kids and I made pancakes for our Shrove Tuesday dinner. Since Rob died, life has lost much of its sweetness, so I decided to give up refined sugar for Lent. Always one to burn out rather than fade away, I figured we’d go big for dinner since I’d be leaving sweets behindContinue reading “On the Road to Jerusalem”

The Open-Handed Life

We give Thee but Thine own,whate’er the gift may be;All that we have is Thine alone,a trust, O Lord, from Thee. William Walsham How, 1858 When we lived in Chicago, Rob and I attended a church that read 1 Chronicles 29:14 each week before the morning offering was received. “For all things come of Thee,Continue reading “The Open-Handed Life”

“Mystic Sweet Communion”

Rob and I grew up in church traditions that loved hymn singing, and we gravitated toward churches like that as a married couple. On Sunday mornings now, when I’m missing Rob’s arm around me in the pew, the hymns remind me that he’s near. “Yet she on earth hath union with the God the ThreeContinue reading ““Mystic Sweet Communion””