Tag: thea rosenburg
Since I was a kid, our local cemetery has been one of my favorite places—eerie and beautiful, sodden with history and urban legends. I used to walk through it on my way to college; the […]
Grown-Ups, Our Family, Writing
Risen Motherhood | Two Truths & a Lie About Motherhood After the Little Years
Yesterday morning, our youngest came out her bedroom looking equal parts thrilled and apprehensive, and announced, “I think I have a loose tooth!” I felt the tooth. It was so. Now, she’s been sporting a […]
“During these days at home, waiting, I bake aggressively. The smell of rising bread gives us a good change to look forward to, even as it gives us a measure of comfort and normalcy. We built […]
Writing about Christmas is one of my favorite ways to skim the emotional stuff off its surface and to remember that Christmas isn’t meant to be a season in which we all make everyone we […]
My friend April and I used to joke that the moment you blog about something it dies. Routines, recipes, updates on what you’re up to now—as soon as you share them, the routines shift or […]
Last fall, our church of thirteen years dissolved. I wrote briefly (very briefly) about it here, but that acknowledgement only hints at how acutely I felt that dissolution. About a month passed between the first […]
Ah! I meant to go silent, but then this came up: a little something extra to share with you. Deeply Rooted recently republished an article of mine—an old one, from Issue 8. This is a […]
“I carry the cold in with me and stand for a moment, still in my coat, and warm my feet over the vent before I sit down. Pumpkin bread presides at the table, attended by […]
Deeply Rooted, Issue 12: The Calling is out! This issue is every bit as beautiful as its predecessors and features a wealth of rich theological articles, as well as beautifully written, practical pieces. Hunter Beless […]
“The centerpiece of our backyard is a large pile of dirt—the leftovers from an unfinished gardening project. That pile exerts a magnetic pull on my daughters, who spend their afternoons excavating it, summiting it, and harvesting […]
