Treasures of darkness

The Wieliczka Salt Mine in southern Poland was in operation for eight hundred years. It has nine levels, goes 1,000 feet deep, and has over 100 miles of tunnels. Over time, miners began to make carvings in the walls, and when they wanted places to pray, they began to carve chapels. The mine now has … Continue reading Treasures of darkness

Do not fear

I have always considered myself to be a careful reader, and so, I cannot explain why it has taken me nearly twenty-five years of reading the Bible to notice that the tree of life was also in the Garden. It says it right there in Genesis 2:9, “In the middle of the garden were the … Continue reading Do not fear

Far enough

When I think of Easter Sunday, I inevitably think of Croatia, of myself running on wet cobblestone along the Adriatic, running in a wind-swept storm while the clang of church bells sailed into my ears from the ancient town along my left. My brother was in the hotel room. Most every citizen in Zadar was, … Continue reading Far enough

Joy

At the start of last year, God gave me a word, which was to be my touchstone in the year to come: joy. It was the kind of thing, if I did not know Him better, I would've taken as mockery, for my life at the time was anything but joyful, nor had it been … Continue reading Joy

To the new year

At the Acoma Pueblo in New Mexico, white ladders lean against the mud-brick buildings. The tops of these ladders have been sharpened to a point, to tear holes in the sky and let the prayers through. The association between God and sky is one I understand. Wherever I’m living or staying, I choose a prayer … Continue reading To the new year

The passenger seat

Growing up, we took a lot of road trips, and because this was pre-smartphone/iPad/TV-that-drops-down-from-the-roof-of-the-car, I spent a lot of time staring out the window. The other day, as I was crossing one of Portland's many bridges, I took my eyes off the road for a split second to glance at the trees in the West … Continue reading The passenger seat

Rest

I am not good at relaxing. While I'm militant about getting eight hours of sleep, I am terrible about allowing myself to rest. Unless I'm on vacation, my hyperactive work ethic insists I am continually thinking, doing, accomplishing—whether that's writing, juggling a broad smattering of freelance projects, or just fixing meals and keeping my apartment … Continue reading Rest

Home

I've been in love with German ever since I learned the word weltschmerz. Its literal translation is "world-pain," the depression that arises when the realities of existence don't line up with the ideals in your head. I talk about this word in the opening chapter of my memoir, how when I discovered it, some gear … Continue reading Home