Heaven @ Bellingham Breakfast Table – 7.4.20

Last night, I laid my tired body down next to my husband’s. I was tucked in close with my head on his chest, against his t shirt. He grabbed my shoulder with a squeeze and started to pull the last bit of energy out of my body. I sighed and he continued to squeeze around my shoulder blade. Squeeze, pull, squeeze, pull. Heaven.

Completely heaven.

We got married in the morning, took a walk and went to Whole Foods in the afternoon. Our youngest daughters, Kara and Lucy, made us a dinner of club sandwich split for two, raw veggies and ranch, watermelon and fried egg & potatoes.

They served us on plates we painted a few days before. We had our favorite beer (Bloke – from Twin Sisters here in Bellingham, WA.) We played Mario Cart with Aria, Ellen and Maddox. We were husband and wife even in Mario Cart, encouraging and supportive, sharing responsibility… like when he would steer with the joy stick and I would get to hold down A on the Wii controller and close my eyes.

We are sitting in our breakfast nook at the moment. He, across from me, on the electric guitar. I am on my last half cup of coffee.

The sun is out and the sky is blue. My hair is about dry from my shower and the candle smells of pomegranate and evergreen: a smell of Christmas.

We are relaxed and married.

Just like the squeeze pull of his hands on my shoulders, the guitar playing right now through these speakers (accompanied by the birds out the door behind me) is so soothing. So relaxing.

There are a lot of things I could say. A lot of story to tell and laugh about, to share. A lot of potential thinking about best ways to share and the meaning our marriage has – not only to us – but to those we invited to support us, who know what a treasure we are to each other.

But, you know, when I think about the best idea. The best way to announce. The best way to connect. The best way to invite. Well, I have learned and am learning the true best is to not pursue a best way, no more right way.

Without the fanfare of tradition and expectations, we witness the subtle shifts of our commitment against our status quo. This is refreshing and a gift in itself.

Our marriage right now is wide open – a blank canvas – open for connection and invitation. Its aerobic nature, its exuberance, is potent and palpable to the five people we most want to witness love.

When it is time to celebrate with others, we will celebrate gladly. If there is blessing to come, it will come.

If there is opportunity in our creative life, it will blossom from our time creating.

If there is adventure to come next, we will stumble upon it.

If ever I knew a taste of peace, I know it now.

// God, you are so good to me. Really really good to me. //


Photograph by Stephanie Freels 



Someday I’ll Be Old.

image1 (1).jpg

I took this picture during church this morning. It was such a specific thing to see: Lucy’s soon to be 8 year old hand resting on my soon to be 35 year old palm.

I have thought throughout the day – throughout lacing up her boots – throughout sledding with her in my lap – throughout ordering her Starbucks – throughout watching her come out of the Starbucks bathroom with her snow pants draped on her arm; rocking stockings only – throughout her sweet kisses and her older sister’s sweet kisses – I have thought throughout all these things what the purpose of this meaning is.

…How to explain my heart in this picture.

As I warmed up the house – cranking the heat and thawing my toes in the shower – I recalled this recording I have from last year of a little ditty I wrote in 2014 before my grandma passed. And it really tells the truth of where my heart is….

Someday I’ll be old. Someday – I’ll be old.

Someone will come visit me and hold my hand.

They’ll tell me that I look good. They’ll talk about the weather. They’ll ask me how I’m feeling …

…and I won’t know why I’m there.

Part of me will be gone – on my other way – part of me will be there; to live another day…

Someday I’ll be old.

And  so – on this Valentine’s, I suppose I simply treasure this 34 year old / 7 year old moment. Because it is different than the others and younger than the rest. And it’s invaluable to me.

This is my first post posting vocals. Kind of a step for me. Happy Valentine’s Day.


Heart Opening

I am overwhelmed.

I think probably the only person who knows the depth of my heart ache on Thanksgiving is my niece, Aila. Who – under the stunning glow of the moonlight – in the crisp evening before a round of rain – kissed me so sweetly in astonishment of my tears. After a hug from her plastic horse, I laid down on the earth and looked up to the sky. My heart was in pieces as I talked to my mom about my pain, my faith, and my desire to love.

Struggle goes through phases as does merit, reward, and courage. Pain and regret happen as randomly as upright clarity. In the questions we ask of our past, we find our future. In the requests we make of others, we find God’s requests of us.

My emotions are so deep – I was with a writer friend a week or so ago and in her critique of an incredibly sensual piece she asked “how deep are her emotions? how much more can we know of her?” And though the woman in my piece wasn’t me, her feminine core was my reflection. To that, the answer to that question simply brings images of oceans, galaxies, and – oddly enough – a muddy puddle.

In my suffering, I have asked God to show me beauty – to help me understand how his love radiates and to put it through me: to my daughters, to my family and friends, to the world. I am really moved – I am crying, actually as I write this – because I have found so much joy in my confusion and in my sadness, I have found so much strength. I have peace in my change. In my worry, I have gained confidence.

And, well, receiving so much love through posting a picture of me and my daughters is so much more than a nice photo – this picture is all of what I described, not just for me but for my daughters as well, and – with snot running out of my nose right now – I just want to thank God.


Thanksgiving Profile