by Emily Wierenga | May 25, 2012 | art, children, colors, darkness, God, hope, light, opportunity, parenting, rain, sunshine, the gypsy mama
it rained on tuesday. rain is good for growing things, like cucumbers and tomatoes and patience. the boys splashed in the puddles and kasher insisted on sitting plunk in the middle of one.we were cold and wet and we stomped mud across the floor and changed into soft... by Emily Wierenga | May 22, 2012 | abortion, children, ethics, fair-trade coffee, faith, holistic, love, pro-life, sweatshops, unborn, wal-mart
i transplant a flower, rub the soil between my hands. it’s so much easier to worship without walls, and we skipped church today. it’s hard to skip church in a community that doesn’t ever miss a sunday. but we do sometimes, because the sabbath is for... by Emily Wierenga | May 9, 2012 | beauty, children, God, imperfect prose on thursdays, love, mirror, sheep, springtime
i tuck kasher under my chin on the kitchen linoleum and we dance while the tea kettle boils. outside my window i see an old man in a plaid shirt limping along the winding road. he’s so frail, i can almost see his heart pulsing through the plaid and i tuck kasher... by Emily Wierenga | May 4, 2012 | children, college, laundry, love, marriage, mary oliver, mountains, romance
“to live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.” (mary oliver)it’s not that we don’t... by Emily Wierenga | May 2, 2012 | belly buttons, children, church, community, family, God, humanity, imperfect prose on thursdays, Jesus, mothers
(guest host today: tara pohlkotte)”mama, why do we have these?” my son asks lifting his shirt and running a fingerover his belly button.i explained that through it mama was able to keep him fed, keep him growing,sustained life deep within.”but why do... by Emily Wierenga | Apr 27, 2012 | bible, children, chocolate, Christ, feature posts, God, imperfect prose on thursdays, Jesus, love
sometimes it tastes like a hot cup of coffee while the boys watch backyardigans in ninja turtle pajamas. for my husband, love tastes like lime chips and homemade salsa, and for kasher, it tastes like breast-milk. but he is being weaned and so love will soon taste...