. . . he won't scatter Hot Wheels like breadcrumbs near the baseboards, in the bookshelves or across the coffee table.
motherhood
36 truths for my 36th year
The truth is, I’ve always ached to love and be loved, but I wrestle with loving myself. Hearing my own melody helped me see my innate holiness — made in God’s image, blessed and broken, sinner and saint.
Holiday permission slips
You have permission... To find hope in the holidays. To relish each merry moment you can muster — the sacredness of lit candles, the comfort of reunions with friends and relatives, the bliss of giving and receiving.
Diary of another day
Something miraculous and mysterious happens when we voice our stories — we give others permission to claim theirs too.
Small graces on a fall morning
Sunlight slices through the night, washing the world in color.
Why I write
Why do cicadas hum? / Why do chickadees whistle? / Why do coyotes cock their heads and howl / in the vast darkness?
God only knows (a sonnet)
Where can we get a baby? / my son asks, his blue eyes piercing / in the morning's heel.
Portrait of one mother
She // is busy // picking up // pouring out // meeting // needs.
My hopes for you
Today is my son's third birthday. We started our morning with pancakes and raspberries for breakfast, and he got to open a few presents. At school today he’ll wear a birthday hat and pass out goodies bags to his friends. When our son comes home, we'll celebrate with tacos and cake, then surprise him with … Continue reading My hopes for you
My 2020 intention
In 2019, I was constantly in motion. Rising early to beat the call of “Mommy!”; gulping down hot coffee; speeding to school pickup; racing through bedtime stories only to crash into bed, exhausted. My planner — bursting with appointments, birthdays, tasks and deadlines — was my compass. I scrawled my dreams in the margins. I … Continue reading My 2020 intention
Erin Strybis 