My Father’s Kind of Love

There are memories that don’t fade with time… they soften, they settle, they become part of how you see the world. Monday will mark five years since my father passed. Five years… and yet, there are days he still feels close enough to reach. Not in grand moments, but in the quiet ones—how I notice…

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just because…

Some days I sit with my words a little longer than usual, and wonder if they ever reach anyone at all. Not in a dramatic way. Just quietly…like placing something in the ocean and watching it drift, unsure if it ever reaches a shore. I’ve written seven books.And I still don’t know what makes one…

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Misplaced?

There are moments when something simple lands with unexpected weight. You are not bothering the right people. It sounds almost too easy—like something that could be brushed aside. But when it settles, it reveals something many of us quietly carry: the fear of being “too much,” too needy, too present, too honest. So we shrink….

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A Love That Remains

There are some kinds of love that don’t ask to be explained. They just… remain. My father passed away in 2021. And not long after that, my mother was officially diagnosed with dementia—though if we’re being honest, the signs were already there even before we lost him. Time has moved forward since then.In all the…

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Grace for Another Beginning

Dear me, There’s something about birthdays that doesn’t always feel the way people expect. The greetings come in.The kind words.The small reminders that you are seen, remembered, celebrated. And for a moment, it all feels light. But somewhere underneath that… there’s a quieter space. Not heavy.Not even sad. Just… still. A space that doesn’t rush…

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Seasons of the Heart

There are mornings that arrive quietly. No urgency. No noise.Just a kind of stillness that lingers a little longer than usual. And in that stillness, certain thoughts feel clearer—not louder, just… easier to hear. This morning felt like that. And somewhere between being half-awake and not fully wanting to rise yet,a thought settled in gently:…

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Willow Sands

For a long time, much of my writing has lived in the quiet spaces of reflection and prayer. Books like The Quiet Life, Resting on the Wings of God, and Borrowed Prayers were written from those quiet places — the moments when we pause, listen, and notice the small things that shape our lives. But…

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When Words Come Back

There is something quietly mysterious about sending words into the world. When we write, most of the time we do it alone. Just us, our thoughts, and a blank page that slowly fills with things we’ve been carrying in our hearts. We don’t always know where those words will go. Or if anyone will read…

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Million Versions of You

Not long ago, I heard a thought that stayed with me longer than I expected. Someone said that there are millions of versions of us walking around in other people’s minds. And when you sit with that idea for a moment, it feels strangely true. Every person who has crossed paths with us carries a…

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The Quiet Life

Some people have large circles of friends. Their phones are always lighting up with messages. Weekends are filled with plans, dinners, gatherings, and laughter that spills over crowded tables. And then there are people like me. I know many people. I get along well with them. Conversations are pleasant, smiles are easy, and life moves…

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