A First Homecoming

“There isn’t a cloud in sight,” they say, though sometimes there might be a few wispy white things on the edge of the horizon, hovering above housetops and distant mountains. And while I can’t see those distant mountains from here, I looked around, squinting, and there truly is not a cloud in sight. I’m home. ...

When the Darkness Wins

Today, I’m mourning the loss of a man I never knew. I read line after line about the impact he had on people, about their love for him, about his love for them. There was so much more to him than the brokenness in him and around him. There was kindness and faith, there was ...

When You Say Goodbye

You hold out your autograph book, the one with the multicolored pages and the dinosaur cover, the one you got when you were a child. You hold it out with pride, not embarrassment, for the decade and a half of memories it carries — of names and notes, of crossed-out words and hard-to-read cursive. You’ve taken ...

Here’s To Being Honest

It’s been three years since a major bend in the road of my life coincided with the start of a calendar year. Then, I was excited. Then, I pinned all my hopes on a time of transformation overseas. And it was a time of transformation, growth, friendships. I’m grateful. My attitude now, however, is a ...

The Rainbow

The light is weird: bright, bright sun and a collage of clouds at near dusk, and in the eerie I see the start of a rainbow, oh so vivid. And I cry. Twice I pull over on the side of the road to gaze and to hold up my little phone with its weak little ...

Reflections on 9/11

12. September 2014 Life, Reflections 2
Thirteen years ago, I was sitting in front of our thick computer playing a spelling game. I still remember the bright yellow on the screen. I was 12 years old, in my last full year as a homeschooler, and it’s my only homeschooling memory I can pin down to a specific day. My mom interrupted ...

Are These My Glasses?

They gave me that look and those words, critiquing my lodging arrangements on our trip. She stood in the middle of the street and started singing beautifully, and I realized she would always be better than me at everything. She came up to me and touched the mole on my face, the one that sprouts ...

The Lizzie Manifesto

Pandora is filling my borrowed room with lovely sounds akin to Pachelbel’s Canon, and I am restarting my blog with hope that it will continue even when the feelings aren’t there. Because writing is one of the things that, in the past, has helped me recover who I am, and I have confidence that it ...