I am in the palm of His hand.

It's been difficult to reflect lately. Too many days where things are "good" or "fine," or even "happy," bookmarked with days of utter chaos and hurt. I haven't been able to make sense of it in my own mind, much less formulate it into words that would make sense to others. So for now, here's what you should know: I'm living every day as it comes, which means I don't have a very firm grip on my own state of mind. I am very confused, and certainly going through the hardest time of my life. But I am strong, and I am supported by the most amazing group of people on the planet. I am not now, nor will I ever be, a victim. But sometimes life is really stinking hard, and this is one of those times. I appreciate each person who reads this and cares, and I appreciate all those who hold me up when I can hardly stand on my own. Thank you.

Reasons I love going home

1. There is tea, and I can drink it at the kitchen island, just like I used to drink my milk after school growing up.

2. The dog, Ella, stands on her front two paws when she pees. Both back feet in the air.

3. Mom and I can go grocery shopping and have more fun than anyone else would doing something so ordinary.

4. Dad can listen and give hugs and advice without a hint of judgement, no matter what.

5. "The Mountain" (Mt. Rainier) is beautifully powerful and it is the first sight that tells me I'm home.

It's a good place. It heals me minute by minute.

On Marriage

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.


Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.


Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

- Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

This poem contains more truth for me today than it did the last time I picked it up.

Indeed, we were born together, and together we shall be forevermore. Linked eternally.

In another chapter of The Prophet (On Love), Kahlil Gibran says that if you choose to live without love "you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears." In other words, love carries with it the extremes of human emotion--the highest highs and the lowest lows.

We joined together with such idealism and boundless love in our hearts. We celebrated our new life, and caught glimpses of a bright future together. We did not know how we would be tested. Marriage was created to be a reflection of the perfect love of God, and yet it must be lived out by people who are so far from that ideal. We are broken. We are selfish. We hurt each other.

As the prophet says, we need each other, but not for every breath. We must give to each other, but not lose ourselves in the process.

There is so much work to do, and the task feels awfully daunting...but today I choose to trust that there are untapped depths of love and grace that will spring from the ground and cover our steps as we journey together.

Not as strong

It took the hand of God Almighty
To part the waters of the sea,
But it only took one little lie
To separate you and me.
Oh, we are not as strong as we think we are.

We are frail, we are fearfully and wonderfully made;
Forged in the fires of human passion,
Choking on the fumes of selfish rage.
And with these our hells and our heavens
So few inches apart,
We must be awfully small
And not as strong as we think we are.

When you love, you walk on the water--
Just don't stumble on the waves.
We all want to go there somethin' awful,
But to stand there it takes some grace,
'Cause oh, we are not as strong
As we think we are.

No, we are not as strong
As we think we are.

(Rich Mullins)

Life well lived

I'm looking back on the past few months and wondering how I could have possibly spent so little time doing the things that I know are good for me. Drinking coffee by myself, reading, journaling, exercising, listening to music--these things soothe me and stir my soul. How have I settled so easily into spending my time mindlessly waiting for life to begin, and hoping I won't miss the train?

I think I've gotten tired and discouraged. I've somehow come to believe that the fate of the world, or at least of my immediate world, hinges on my ability to complete a set of tasks, to buy the groceries, to pay the bills on time, to wash the dishes. And though those things certainly need to be done, it is clear to me that my spirit is being smothered under the pressure of an endless "to do" list.

So I've made a decision. From now on, I'm choosing to live my life. To do what I need to do for me.

A few days ago I took a step in the right direction. I went to Rockwood Bakery by myself, just to think and write. I wrote a letter to my youngest brother while listening to Yo-Yo Ma and soaking in the sunlight from outside.

Marc Hafso and Jeff Wirth were there too, and they stopped by my table on their way out the door. We ended up talking about a close friend of mine, whom Jeff also knows, and when I described her as "fantastic," Marc got that oh-so-Marc-ish twinkle in his eye, tilted his head toward me, and said "You're fantastic."

And you know what? I am fantastic. And no matter how much strain there is on my life, or how tired I may be from holding up too much weight, I can not forget who I am. I know that I was made for much greater things than watching Desperate Housewives on my laptop until bedtime; I know that I was created to live brilliantly, to shine, to exude light.

I'm done being dampened, and I'm ready for what comes next.

"In a Graveyard"

Things are weird, but Rufus Wainwright makes everything better. And so do hot showers. The two combined could pretty much soothe any heartache, I believe.