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when God dies, all over again

by Emily Wierenga | Feb 26, 2012 | baby, death, funeral, God, heaven, love, mother

i forget, for a moment, how angry i am at God, when i hold my new nephew, whose brown feet conduct an invisible orchestra.babies give God a face, and when you look at them, it’s so easy to believe. but when they die, at 18 months, it’s so easy to stop...

make me a channel of your peace

by Emily Wierenga | Feb 20, 2012 | children, desert, fostering, God, mothers, prayer, song, st. francis

“it will get harder,” i heard, bending over the rails of the crib, the crucified stance of the mother who feeds life in the dead of night. but i shook my head. it couldn’t. it was hard enough. and then, “there will be victory,” even as my...

we never stopped holding each other (over at ‘the high calling’ today…)

by Emily Wierenga | Feb 15, 2012 | anorexia, anorexia nervosa, commitment, God, love, marriage, prayer

I lie in red pajamas on the living room sofa, my husband, Trenton, on the other in his comfy clothes—his green-ribbed shirt with the hole and his fuzzy pants that have no waist. “Our good times were more than our bad,” he says in a voice that aches.“Yes, but our bad...

photos for you, of this life of ours

by Emily Wierenga | Feb 12, 2012 | family, fostering, God, love, photos

(i’ve asked my brother, who’s a computer-genius, to come up with a prayer-button for us; thank you, for the peace that passes when you fold your hands for us… you don’t know, how we need you right now… love, e.)

on raising a few good men

by Emily Wierenga | Feb 7, 2012 | boys, costa concordia, faith, God, good, integrity, men, parenting

we’re driving home from playing cards with friends. the night looks as though someone has dumped tar on the world. fields of black.and i think about the 30 people who are missing. the ones the captain abandoned, the man who ran the costa concordia into a rock...

when God says yes to your dreams

by Emily Wierenga | Feb 6, 2012 | book, champagne, contract, dreams, faith, God

my paintings are being exhibited this month at a local gallery. i had about five visitors friday afternoon, most of them members of the art club.the rest of the time i sat in the back-room of the gallery, writing. after four hours, i leaned my head on the plastic...
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