My world has been


It’s been a 

painful shaking,

an imposed surrender.

All that I once

held with a tight grip

is no longer

something I can

cling to.

Some of what I held

dear has fallen

through my hands. 

What remains 

is precious, 

their importance –


I open my hands

to examine 

what is left. 

There’s not much there.

And yet

it is all that I need. 

My heart is full 

and my hands 

have room to 

to serve, 

to give, 

to explore,

to give grace. 









I’m struggling to remember

I’m struggling to remember

It’s always been true. 

I am not what I do. 

I am not the sum of 

what I check off 

on the to-do list. 

I’ve always believed that,

even if sometimes I’ve 

not acted like it. 

And I am struggling 

to remember.

Here in this time. 

Here in this space. 

I am not what I do. 

I am not what I accomplish 

in a day.

I am more than 

what my house 

looks like. 

I am above and beyond

what is for dinner. 

I am still a creative person

even if I can’t seem 

to start something 

new right now.

I may not come out

on the other side 

of this having 

checked off boxes 

on my quarantine 

bucket list. 

I’m in some sort of

wrestling match.

I want to do more

and yet

I’m struggling 

to remember

what is true.

Here in this time.

Here in this space.

I need to 

remember who I am, 

remember my roots,

remember what centers me, 

who holds my hand.

I need to 

dig deep.

Show up 

for my family

and friends. 

All I need to do 

is be present.

That’s it –

still means I’ve got

to dig deep.

I will show up.


You’re never far

You’re never far

We might be five miles apart, 

next door, or 2500 miles away

from each other. 

But you’re never far. 

Distance can’t change 

what the heart holds. 

Distance can’t dilute 

our determination 

to care for one 

another well. 

We will find a way.

Distance cannot

weaken love.

It just doesn’t 

have that kind of power.

Distance only makes

us ache to be more present.

This can fuel how

we show up in 

our own homes 

and in our communities.

Don’t hide 

from what you feel –

dig deep, process your

thoughts to be able

to love and serve

those close and those

far away.

Otherwise, I am afraid

we risk not 

showing up at all and

we just can’t

afford that. 


A lesson from anoles

A lesson from anoles

The flat, preserved anoles

in my sister’s door frame

make me a little sad.

Why didn’t you move,

little lizards?

Maybe you had hung out

in the door frame before

and you thought you

were safe.

Perhaps you didn’t

recognize the

danger in delay.

Maybe you were


You clearly were

with friends

so maybe you

thought you

were in a good place.

The evidence

suggests otherwise,

my dear anoles.

Your demise reminds me

there’s a cost to

delaying change

when change needs to happen.

Your outline reminds me

that I sacrifice a dream

when I choose comfort

over courage.

Safe over brave.

When a move is a must

and I dig my heels in

to stay

where I am at

thankyouverymuch –

it will cost

me something –

every time.


Hush, fear of failure, hush.

Hush, fear of failure, hush.

My friend invited me to go on a hike on New Year’s Day.

I informed her I was not in shape for a hike that she would take and she informed me that she was going for a run on her own prior to the hike.

In other words, the hike was her cool down – I should be good.

I was still worried that my heart was going to beat out of my chest at the peak of the hike.

I just didn’t think I was going to be able to hang.

I didn’t want it to look like I couldn’t handle it…

I didn’t want to have to stop for a break.

I was afraid that I would be sore the next day.

It was also going to be a cold morning.

But I went.

And you know what? The challenge was good for me.

I am stronger than I thought.

I huffed and puffed a few times but it felt good.

I am capable of hard things.

It’s my mind that limits what’s possible.

It’s my fear of failure that says no.

It’s me that can talk me out of anything.

And the 3.2 mile hike on uneven ground at funky angles gave me a thirst for more challenge.

Who is this girl?

It was a great way to start the new year.

I want to pursue things that make me wonder, “Am I am up for this?”

I want to welcome opportunities that include a risk of failure.

“Where is Bethany and what have you done with her?”

I know that what I attempt will not be within my own power.

I can do hard things.

Please remind me of this in a few months…

No, really I mean it.


Moments with and

Moments with and

The end of a full day

leaves her with a 

slight headache, 

achy body, 

full heart,

a few regrets, and

a few wins —

and there’s still more to do.

It’s one of those nights, 

when she doesn’t know 

whether to keep 

pushing through


call it enough. 

A bath sounds great

and so does 

finishing up




so that tomorrow 

won’t be as full,

so that, maybe, 

she won’t go to bed with a

the regret/headache combo.

In her fuzzy mind

an idea plows through

the fog.

Why not do both?

A bath and take the computer with her?

Cake and eat it, too!?

Is it necessary to choose, tonight?

Is tonight the night for


instead of 


The lavender scent,

the warm water, 

and her work, 

draw her to the tub.

And then a wave of thought

crashes against her mind…

are there other moments

in her life that are

and instead of or?

Has she put limits 

where limits don’t exist?

Work or family.

What if it is 

work and family?

Giving or receiving.

What if it is

giving and receiving?

Strong or teachable –

what if the right answer

is strong and teachable?

Grace or accountability.

What if the proper way of this

being lived out is

grace and accountability?

Maybe there’s been too many

either-this-or-that in her life. 

Maybe it’s time for more and.