We have a holy obligation to bring about paradise on this earth; each generation helps us do that.

Motherhood must be a choice. It cannot be chosen for us.

Blessing something or someone is a way of expressing my gratitude and reverence for them.

Acknowledging that our dream was not happening didn't end the grief, but it did offer closure.

Spirit of Life, remind me to release that which no longer serves me so that I may be present to joy.

One day, I’ll have to care for my mother as she once cared for me. I’m not ready to handle the truth that our relationship must change.

Before I birthed my baby, he was a possibility, a kick against my insides. With that first cry, first breath, he became a person in the world.

The crisis was an opportunity to learn to be fully me and love it, inner turmoil and all. I learned that strength comes from authenticity, never from perfection.

Who are you going to be, today? And tomorrow? Who are we all becoming, together?

When I internalize cultural messages about the definitions of success or failure—or anything, really—I undermine my own sense of self-worth.

I trusted the woman at the pharmacy to be capable of hearing hard truth. Bless her wounded heart with its internalized misogyny. She just wants women to love and support each other. Thank you. Me too.

I’d gotten in the habit of keeping my head down and hardly noticing where I was or who was around me. On this day, I decided to greet the world differently.

Tell me the story of my birth, and help me understand how you were changed the day I entered the world. Help me know love, deep in my bones.

My heart broke the day my son stood in the bathroom crying. He handed me a pair of scissors and told me to just cut it. I told him how beautiful his hair was and how sad I would be to see him cut it.

I wanted so much to believe that God was watching over this boy, that God was tender and protective and fiercely on the side of life and that this boy would not slip away.

I spent time feeling embarrassed—that somehow I had failed—because I had filed for divorce. It’s been over nine years now, and I wake up every single day happy with my decision.

My oldest child was confused: why would no one stop and help us? Even though people weren’t stopping to help us, my son said, he wanted to be more like me and stop to help someone anyway.

“It takes a village to raise a child. It takes a child with autism to raise the consciousness of the village.” —Elaine Hall, educator and parenting coach My three-year-old is almost completely nonverbal. Every day when she gets off the bus, I ask her the same question: I ask her how her day...

"Fear's pronoun is singular: I've got to watch out for me and mine. Love's pronoun is plural: we're in this together, and together we can grow things that will blossom even in a time of drought." —Kathleen McTigue My son, Caleb, and I went to Starbucks on a recent Saturday morning. We often do...

I am ever grateful for the friends who are my family; who have pieced me together each time I’ve fallen apart; who laugh, cry, dream, and age happily by my side.