12 Years and Why Are We Married Again?

There once was this man who bent himself over our married-feet and prophesied that thousands and thousands would gather around our married-love, but we didn't have much time to reflect on his seer-like vision because shorter then a month later our love shattered into a million little shard-sharp pieces. Oh. Well . . . we didn't see that coming. And our married-eyes still look back and marvel that we decided---in spite of ourselves and our choices and our circumstances---that neither of us was "going" [ read more... ]

my heart wasn’t made for this.

There are times when I feel like all the seeing and knowing and hearing and reading . . . all the immediate access we have to everything in the world at the same time can't be good for our wee God-woven hearts? And to top it off we have a veritable highway of opinion and commentary for the entirety of it. And this million-lane-wide-opinion-highway is without speed limits or traffic violations or ticket-writing-police and there are engines burning at 8000 rpm's and can someone please let me off [ read more... ]

Three Little Notes And Some Lowridin’

Someday when they're older then breast-height, they will have shot so high and flown so far . . . I am sure they'll go right past where the stars are born and be away from the under-shadow of my mother-wings and I will sit in this empty nest with my forlorn arms and remember the morning when I sat quietly in the living room with my good-morning-hands wrapped in reverence around the habitual-tea-drink, a Buechner book open on my blanketed lap while they were hush-hush busy in the kitchen and whispering [ read more... ]

Wherein He {Still} Makes Music

It's the sweetest sound, really. And I can hear it everyday if I'm sitting in just the right spot at just the right time . . . When I first laid my 17-year-young-eyes on all 6 foot 3 inches of unbridled male virility, I dove, DOVE I tell you, into love. (Which is just a way more dramatic method of "falling" in love.) All I remember thinking was, "ME WANT. UGG." I might've even beat a fist against my chest once or twice. (I don't usually exhibit neanderthal qualities . . . I swear.) To my further [ read more... ]

11 Years And Counting

He looks at me with glistening vision, a quiver to his lips . . . My man, his heart is so soft on this 11th year remembrance of our marriage sacrament. "Erika, I love who we are and who we've become and where we are going . . . " His voice with the emotion turns me tender and just like that we are crying together for the wonder of still walking hand in hand as one when an unseen perfidy would have torn us into two. But, we are together. TOGETHER!!! Right there with the tears come the heart-rising [ read more... ]