I knew it was God’s Plan for us to be married. At 14, I’d had a bona fide Sign From God — the details of which are too excruciatingly embarrassing for me to recount even now, nearly 20 years later; picture a latter-day Gideon’s fleece reimagined through the earnestness of adolescence — that J., my… Read More Plans

Fear, part 2

This week the little corner of the Internet where I live has been talking about brokenness and sin, ever since some random Reformed pastor’s tweet found its way into the progressive-liberal-Christian twittersphere, saying that parents should “Teach your children that they are broken. Deeply broken.” And at first I didn’t pay a lot of attention… Read More Fear, part 2

Bad at food.

I’m getting bad at food again. Lately I’ve been adding breakfast and lunch to my daily to-do list — partly because checking things off makes me feel productive even if it’s things I’d be doing anyway, but mostly because if it’s not on my to-do list looking like an official task, I won’t eat. I’ll… Read More Bad at food.


I’m sitting in room 141 of a hospice facility in Nashville, watching my grandmother nap. Under the blankets she seems like a baby bird — tiny and curled up, frail. She’s always been a thin woman; now she’s shrunk so much that I am literally the size of four of her. She’s not actively dying,… Read More Titty-deep