The answering machine clicks on after the fourth ring. I untuck my feet from beneath me and rise from the couch. I’m pacing back and forth, my bare feet grazing the cool hard wood floor. The ground is steady, it is me that is shaking. I realize I am holding my breath waiting for a voice on the other end. I remember the anticipation I had as a girl, mustering the courage to call the cute boy. I’d wait until the kitchen was clear and I’d pull the phone from the wall and stretch the ringlets of …
hurt
We Have Much to Learn From the Flowers: An Incourage Post
I get only what’s on the list. Gingerale and saltines to settle her stomach, a family sized box of cheerios and a gallon of milk so the kids can make their own breakfast if I’m tied up taking care of my mom. I toss a bunch of easy to make lunch stuff into the cart, things the kids can manage in a pinch. I grab some fruit and almond butter. We just have to make it until dinner. Our church fills in slots on the calendar to drop off casseroles and soups, crusty bread baked fresh in their ovens …
When Your Mom Breaks Her Back and Then Teaches You the Gospel Again
I answer my phone with a joke. “Did you lock yourself in the chicken coop again?” It wouldn’t be the first time she’d gone out in the morning to feed the chickens and collect eggs to find the latch had fallen into place and locked her in with the flock. But the voice on the other end wasn’t joking. “I fell, I’m hurt…I think I broke my back.” The voice is my mom and yet not my mom, strangled and gasping for breath. I’ve never heard her sound like that. I am out the back door scanning our …
