Lights in the Locust Trees

and a new playlist for your summer walks

Won't you sit down, you know I love you honey

And you look so tired

I know it's hard how we're thrown into this life

Then one day we must die

-In Dreams, Sierra Ferrel 

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I keep waking up at 3am for no reason. 

Scratch that. It is for some reason, but me and my doctor haven’t figured it out yet. My particular brand of chronic illness thinks a full night’s sleep is a mild suggestion, not a necessity. It makes for long nights and exhaustingly long days. Turns out, life doesn’t stop just because your body stops working properly.¹ 

I’m doing all the “right” things. I’m taking supplements under the guidance of my doctor. I’ve been off caffeine for years. I don’t open my phone at night and try to lessen the time I spend on it during the day. I was working out regularly until my body started revolting against that. I’m staying hydrated and eating vegetables and increasing my fiber and protein. I have appointments with two other doctors scheduled to try to get answers. 

If I look a little tired it’s just because I am. Continuing my practice of taking selfies as a way to say, “I’m here. I still matter.” even when the last place I want to be is in front of a camera right now.

Meanwhile, the hospital called me yesterday to inform me that one of the doctors I’ve been waiting to see for over two months will no longer be available after September 30th. The bill Trump just signed into law has forced the hospital to make budget cuts and they’re shuttering that entire branch of women’s health services. I was told this directly from a representative at the hospital. That department will be completely gone by September. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

This brings to mind what I experienced after Trump won the election. I publicly shared how grieved it made me. People sent me DMs, confused, asking why it grieved me. Women I’d been online friends with for over a decade unfollowed me. Others unsubscribed or took passive aggressive swipes at me because I kept saying how concerned I was about the path America is on. I was saying all this long before that man’s agenda for America personally affected me.

If anyone is still confused and needs a personal reason from me as to why I refuse to support his administration: I’m now devoid of a needed resource for my chronic health issues directly because of policies Trump has implemented. This, among many, many, many, other reasons is why I’ve never voted or supported what he and his administration stands for. 

And I’m still not sleeping at night.

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Never Heard of Her

The heat-fever where we live finally broke. To give you an idea of how hot it’s been, I walked outside last night and thought to myself, “This feels glorious.” It was 81°. 

I’m doing everything I can to relish in the over abundance of green we have right now. Green grass. Green branches. Green bushes and weeds and shaggy alcoves refracting gold light. I ache for this in winter. I won’t let it go unnoticed and taken for granted. Summer has prepared a feast and I’m sitting down to gobble it up. 

My entomology obsessed daughter who leads us all into a deeper love for God’s creation

I’m trying to not think too much about the upcoming school year. What is a “curriculum”? What is a “schedule”? Never heard of her. Give me long mornings where we all sleep in. Give me late nights with the fireflies and cozying up with movies after the kids collapse in bed. Give me zoo days and library afternoons and ice cream evenings. I saw a “back to school” section at Walmart and did an abrupt 180° in the other direction. No, thank you! School is closed. GO AWAY. 

The hummingbirds are back. The cicadas are screaming in the trees. An indigo bunting stops by our house every night to sing in cedar trees. The chicory is blooming for heaven sakes, and you want me to order workbooks and think about lesson plans right now? Puhleease. That sounds like a fall problem.

Apple Slices and Pillow Talk

I woke up last week and launched into a conversation about AI with Jonathan. We discussed that until the conversation branched off into me telling him how much my theology has shifted over the years when it comes to how God views us. 

I was raised to believe that I was a filthy rag of a worm until God stepped in and rescued me through the redemption of Jesus Christ. This teaching has led to a lifetime of striving, anxiety and truly believing I’m worthless. The fruit it has borne has given me chronic soul-weariness and a cavern of anxiety in my belly. I won’t be eating it anymore. 

Not a picture from our bed, but close enough. Juniper like to join our weekend tv watching on the couch after the kids fall asleep. We’re really liking Ironheart!

I know now that I have innate worth. I was made intentionally in the image of God. Sin separated us, but he came to redeem me back to who I was made to be as a child of God, not to reach into the mud to pull out a worm. I am loved and worthy. I’ve always been loved and worthy. You might read that and disagree. I wish you well. I hope you can wish me well too. 

The implications of unregulated AI and seismic shifts in theology—just a few light things we discussed before both of us had even gotten out of bed for the day. We might have moved on to other topics, but the dog woke up and the kids needed breakfast.

One thing they don’t tell you about parenthood is how often the major and the mundane will tangle together in your day-to-day life. You’ll wake up to find yourself breaking away from decades of learned mindsets and theology or trying to wrap your brain around whatever insane headline you just read. And at the same time you’re being asked to find someone’s lost stuffie and slice up apples for breakfast. Good and hard and weird and exhausting and beautiful. 

I don’t want to talk about how tall she is now.

Cathedral Trees

We took the kids and Billie to the park one evening last week. It’s a newer park in our area with a path that winds around a crystalline pond surrounded by locust and walnut trees. The sun was setting. Golden hour was giving a full performance. I had walked ahead with Scout and Billie when I heard my husband’s voice behind me. 

“Hey babe, look at the way the light hits these locust tree leaves.”

I turned around to find the love of my life paused on the path, headed tilted back, taking in a moment I would’ve missed if he hadn’t mentioned it. He pointed up and my eyes followed.

Locust trees in the evening light.

The emerald leaves of the locust tree cut glowing shapes in the blue sky that could have put a cathedral’s stained glass to shame. The breeze gently teased the leaves. They laughed at her touch. I thanked Jonathan for stopping to make sure I saw how the light filtered through the trees. He knows I love stuff like that. 

We continued on our walk.² I’ll never stop evangelizing about the ministry of a good walk. In a world spinning at breakneck speed³, slowing down to the pace of your own feet is something I need more and more. 

Our evening excursion became a vignette of everything I’m grateful for right now: a body that’s broken but still fighting. A partner to walk through life with who also knows when to stop and appreciate beauty. Two lanky kids and a giant dog that interrupt and need us in the good-exhausting kind of way.

The way the light is always finding a way through the cracks to fill up what’s been emptied.

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1. Life doesn’t stop, but being able to work part time from home while navigating chronic illness has been life changing. One of the big projects I’m gearing up for this September is my annual read-through of The Lord of the Rings. And, right now, I’m running a summer promo for all paid subscriptions to my Tolkien Substack. If you sign up now, you can lock in your subscription for the read-through for as little as $3.50 a month. Click here to learn more.

2. A freshly curated playlist for all your walks.

3. The headlines are so heavy. I know you know. And though I’ve had to limit my exposure to the coverage of the tragedy caused by the flooding in Texas, I did donate to World Central Kitchen and Convoy of Hope. These are two vetted organizations that are on the ground responding with relief and aid for those affected. I’ll encourage you to give if you can. When things feel overwhelming, taking action (no matter how small) helps everyone involved.