The Lamenting Psalms (at SheLoves).

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Oh hello! It’s been quiet here lately with school ending and moving and all that jazz, but I am hoping things will pick up a bit this summer, starting today–I’m over at SheLoves Magazine joining in on their Red Couch Book Club pick for the month–Dr. Ellen Davis’s Getting Involved With God. It’s my first time writing in that space, and I found it really fun–even though I was writing on lament.

A phrase that floats around with church-people is “just give it to God,” and while I am still wary about saying this casually to people in times of distress, it is comprehensible to me as Davis writes about biblical characters—in this case, the psalmist. Ellen Davis writes that it seems the shift occurs within a psalm of lament towards praise precisely because of “the psalmist’s experience of suffering, and perhaps that has changed only because she has dared to break the isolation of silence and knows that God has heard.”

Join over at SheLoves to talk about the psalms with us? Maybe even be inspired to read Davis’s book?

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nothing hurt that couldn’t heal [over at Alise…Write!]

Today, I’m thrilled to be sharing a piece of story about Alia and me at Alise’s space today. I have long loved Alise’s blog, and the way she writes about friendship is healing and inspiring. (you can check out some of my favorite posts on this here and here.)

So, I’m quite honored to be talking about friendship over there today, as it relates to differing kinds of faith within relationship (though Catholics and Episcopalians are probably more like oranges and tangerines than apples and oranges. Or apples and Grapples? …anyways.)

Some parts were hard and humbling to write, like this piece of old belief:

You see, Catholics, had faith—maybe–but faith misplaced. They were, well, theatrical at best, conjurers at worst, which was most of the time.

but at most points I just found myself shaking my head in gratitude for what a wonderful friend I have.

[She had told me once, patiently, that there was a distinction between doing something for someone and because of someone, but it wasn’t until I saw my own life that I understood.]

Click here to read the rest.

but as an oh-so-special bonus, over here I’ll share some then and now pictures. You’re welcome.

2003. braces and crazy hair.

High school graduation. Don’t you think for a second I’m the weird one. //photo by Taylor Blackall

treehugging in Santa Fe. yup. smize? // summer 2009

we’re a *little* more adult now? // March 2013

Here’s to the first ten and at least ten more, Alia. Times ten. I adore you, joon.

Cheers!

“journey,” not “schizophrenia” [or, my guest post at see preston blog].

It began with a scribble in a notebook.

My past self is still in there. 

I spend a lot of time to  articulate the difference between the then and now.

Maybe too much time.

But a lot has changed in the past few years. And many days, I feel the tension between two versions of myself–past and present–that often begs for reconciliation. I say reconciliation, because I think my past self is here to stay, and I never want to stop listening to what she has to say.

So, I wrote a literal conversation between these two versions, and I’m thrilled that it is kicking off a blog series at my dear friend Preston’s space.

Here’s a teaser:

“You would have hated the service today,” Present Self called into the house as the shut the front door behind her, throwing her keys just past the entryway table, her poor aim condemning her to at least a ten-minute search the next time she needed them.

“Oh? And why is that?” Past Self grunted as she wrestled a jar of marinated artichoke hearts in the kitchen before offering it to Present Self along with a dishtowel to help coax it open. Artichoke hearts were her favorite.

So, will you come read the rest of the conversation, and hopefully, join in?