Families, with their sprawl of generations, are two-headed beasts, too, I suppose. The older members look into the past while the youngers sprint for tomorrow. Like the original Janus, we are all pulled in two directions and whichever way we look, we are strained by time’s demands.
And today, on the other side of courage, there was joy.
Over the month of June, we’d been participating in the Wildlife Trusts 30 Days Wild Challenge. Each day, we committed to do – or see or find – something wild. It didn’t need to be ambitious; it could be something right on our doorstep. The point was to notice.
At camp, I discovered a beauty that keeps going.
That’s how prayer works, I thought. Prayer is holding hands.
Love requires space. When we set rigid limits, we leave bits out and we fail to see what is happening in front of our eyes.
Maybe, in another season or another year, I will find a nourishing reason behind omitting the Gloria, but this year, our family will keep singing together.
Just past my kids’ school, there is a red brick church with a cafe in the lobby.
Introducing new columnist, Katie Munnik