by Emily Wierenga | May 25, 2011 | Uncategorized
her bangs are crooked as though she took a dull scissor and cut and she looks young, with her wide-set eyes and freckled nose, 18 but she runs around with water guns and eats ice cream for lunch and watches cartoons. “i was an oops child,” she tells me,... by Emily Wierenga | May 24, 2011 | Uncategorized
i was an anxious child, scrunching my eyes when i prayed long lists of names so they might be saved and trying to picture him: this God. and i couldn’t see him, (and maybe that’s why i paint? my face alight like moses’ when i turn from canvas?)but... by Emily Wierenga | May 22, 2011 | Uncategorized
“he doesn’t like going for walks with me anymore,” she laughs, friend with the blue socks poking from vintage shoes, “because i always talk about the light, how i can never quite capture it.”we’re walking in the sand-hills and the... by Emily Wierenga | May 18, 2011 | Uncategorized
i step into boots and then, the night, and it is a full-moon tonight, grandma said and i look for it but the man in the moon must have had his curtains drawn, in a sky that seems God’s face for all of its vastnessi stand still while children everywhere sleep, i... by Emily Wierenga | May 16, 2011 | Uncategorized
whenever dad was in the room she’d change in the closet, and i remember peeking through the door at her white back, waist slender wondering why she didn’t want him to see her, feeling a shame too raw for any nine-year-old and thinking, so this is what it... by Emily Wierenga | May 13, 2011 | Uncategorized
amy sullivan knows how to tell a story. she also knows how to love God, hard, and she blends the two with a magic of word and beauty. read on, friends…We left Michigan in the middle of the night during a whiteout.My ten-year-old self didn’t know exactly why we...