i write to believe.

A pleasant surprise from visitors this Sunday morning fills our family room with cozy conversations and hopeful refrains. The darkness of yesterday seems to have lifted and connecting with family from Cebu strengthens the resolve to lift up our gaze again. I’ve resolved to stop looking at the diagnosis on Mom’s table or try to understand the medical terms that always sound scary in every way. And just focus on the hope that is present no matter how hidden in every moment. My rhythm fell out of beat and I’ve pondered all night as to its cause. It cannot be determined and I am reminded by a priest who told me once, “We forget that life is a mystery and we get frustrated when we cannot understand. Sometimes we are not meant to understand everything. That’s why we Catholics call our walk, a walk of faith.” Reading 2 chapters of Traveling With Pomegranates by Sue Monk Kidd has allowed me to reconnect with something essential to my journey right now. The bond of mother and daughter. ...

Let’s tell stories till the dusk sets in and the dawn creeps up to paint the sky again. Let’s drown in conversations that knit souls tightly together in an embrace that is wider than we can believe.