healing Posts

The Children Who Heal Us

Hippie

Last night I started randomly receiving a series of text messages from daughter Ashley. At first, I thought she was sending me silly things my grandsons say. Just recently she sent me a note saying that Sullivan had asked if she could go get his “Granny baby” for him. Sullivan comes up with the most outrageous sayings. I think he’s in training for Comedy Central, but these texts were sent well past Sullivan’s bedtime.

I realized it was poetry Ashley was sending. Ridiculously bad poetry: “You are the bubble in my bath. The plush in my towel. The vanilla in my candle.” read more

Death without a Funeral

Twins

This was going to be the blog post in which I announced that daughter Konnie and her husband are expecting wee ones.

I had it all written in my mind.

I was going to share with you how long a struggle this has been – five years. And I was going to talk about how many prayers have been poured out on behalf of this couple who have longed to be parents.

I’ve mentioned their infertility struggle in a couple of other posts. We’ve had those discussions about how our society has turned adoption and infertility into money-making ventures of the highest order. So please, understand, I’m not interested in continuing that discussion right now. read more

How do you build community?

It’s Miz Shelby here again. Today’s the day I head out on the adventure with World Vision, and I am looking forward to bringing you all along.

Last night, after an 80+ degree late summer day, which I spent mainly indoors packing, I decided to go to the new food cart lot for dinner. As soon as I arrived, I ran into my neighbors, the ones whose house I watched for a month this summer. I remember a time when I could go anywhere I wanted in this mountain town and not run into a single person I knew. This week marked my fifth year living here. The longest I’ve lived anywhere as an adult. read more

Bent Over Ourselves

I’ve been reading Mary Karr’s memoir Lit – her struggle through alcoholism and depression and getting sober and finding something to believe in. In reading her story, I’ve been stuck by how universal the feelings of inadequacy she experiences are. I know I often feel like the bystander watching everyone else who seems to have life figured out. I feel out of place and all alone in it. Too often I compare myself to others in all sorts of ways – in the things we call success, in outward appearances, in accomplishments. I feel like the awkward 13-year-old who never grew into her gangly limbs. read more