A Psalm of Mornings Holy The hour Before my husband wakes My kitchen still clean. Holy The nameless birds Whose caws penetrate the cool of my open window. Holy The shawl wrapped and padded stillness, The steaming…
When anxiety surges, all awareness is drawn like a magnet to that fear. Surroundings blur, breathing shallows and the whirring begins. I could walk through hours, days like that and barely feel the touch of that sweet toddler hand. …
The skipping, whirring, pacing thoughts began their morbid merry-go-round when I was ten. I called it nervousness. The asthma medication inhaled would bring it on, the late dinner would leave me shaky, ordinary stress would demand I put on…
They are finally, after 8 years of the beautiful chaos of young children, all happily ensconced at school! My three year old sat down at a puzzle in his new preschool room this morning, gave me a kiss and…