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Guest Post: The Living Truth of the Gospel

Guest Post: The Living Truth of the Gospel

Recently I had the privilege of writing a short piece for Abigail Rehmert, a writer I met through hope*writers. That post came at a crucial time, when quarantine had been under way for weeks stretching into months, our business had dropped off drastically, and I was...
Slur: Reflections on Being “Other”

Slur: Reflections on Being “Other”

As the daughter of an Asian father and a German–American mother, I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like to be a black adult in the U.S. today, to live with the possibility of being presumed guilty until proven innocent, or to instruct my teenage sons in how to...
My Life in Books

My Life in Books

Laura Ingalls Wilder was the first writer I ever befriended. At night, our beautiful, young mothers tucked us both into bed, side by side with our older sisters. As I listened to my mother read Little House in the Big Woods, Laura would listen to her pa on his fiddle....

Four Weeks In: Redux

I wrote this poem five years ago and reworked it recently. Now, of course, we all know that four weeks is nothing. It’s not even half the time we’ve been social distancing. So take this poem with a grain of salt. I didn’t know any better. Four weeks inIf only I had...

Grammar Lesson

She sits at the kitchen tabledutifully diagramming sentences inscrutable indirect objects and those pesky prepositions(or are they adverbs?) But I am diagrammingthe way the light glints in her hairas she carefully shapes cursive,brow furrowedbut eyes darting to...

A Walk in the Woods, Part II

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her. (William Wordsworth) English majors are always looking for poetry in the everyday, and an idyllic walk in the woods is bound to provide some romantic fodder for their next poem. Our family walk began promisingly...