Stages of Anxiety

The day I was to dance at an open-air concert in Times Square I woke before the alarm, as is my custom, and slid out of bed into the quiet dark. Instantly, I knew something was wrong: The room was spinning. Or was I? Putting out my hand to steady myself, I couldn’t...

The Weight of Silence

The ordinary sounds of Sunday morning help mask some of my son’s repetitive outbursts, but the quiet of the sermon is a struggle. Admittedly, even typically developing 8-year-old boys struggle with the sermon. It’s just more of an issue for my child. When...

Living With Terror

My instinct is to stay in bed, smother fear with a pillow, cultivate the illusion of safety beneath the warmth of my duvet. Waking to the news of yet another shooting, stabbing, natural disaster, I find myself echoing Francis Schaeffer: How should we then live? I...

Normal to Me

In my room sits an empty cardboard box that my middle son gave me for Mother’s Day. “I don’t understand why you have pillows on your bed that you don’t use for sleeping,” he said. “But I thought I would make you a place to keep them at night.” This box is, in so many...

Sacred Conversations

“We don’t even know how to talk to each other anymore,” says Pastor Griff Martin of First Baptist Church in Austin, TX, about divisive issues in our country today. “As a church, we can’t lead a conversation about gun violence or sanctuary cities out in the public...