We push back from the table to give our bellies room to expand. Our plates, covered with smears of gravy and daubes of cranberry sauce, litter the table. Luke tips the bread basket to peek under the cloth, but we demolished the homemade rolls. “Surely you’re not still hungry,” I ask him while I replace …
Advent ponders Jesus first and second comings. Thinking about God coming as a babe makes me smile, but I rarely think about Jesus’ second coming. Usually that comes to mind when I’m weary of politics and violence or my failure to live faithfully. In those instances, I’m eager for “every knee to bow and every …
Every year, about the time we begin to wear long sleeves, Mom would call my sister, brother and me together. She would hand us the thick Sears catalog and a red ballpoint pen which wouldn’t smear on shiny pages. “Circle what you want Santa to bring you for Christmas.” She didn’t give parameters like how …
I writhe on the green faux-leather couch. I am the center of a tug-of war-with siblings pulling on my arm and leg, yanking, fighting with each other through my body. The couch’s smooth cover and rigid arms both advance and limit my sliding, this way then that, preventing a decisive win for either side. I, …