We interrupt this blog post because…

My un-cooking skills

My mom was a terrible cook. I mean, just awful. Most of my meal-related memories involve her dashing from the bedroom where she’d got caught up in a book and shrieking in horror at boiled over veggies, burnt potatoes or overdone everything. She’d turn off...

On meeting my daughter

God knits babies together in the secret dark. Small wonder that to get a glimpse into their world we need to go into darkened rooms lit only by a flickering screen to read what we can of who they are becoming. But He already knows. He already delights. He has already...