I can feel it. In you. In me. It’s like a breath caught and suspended in our individual and collective throats. I originally wrote and posted the following on Facebook. It resonated with folks. And, I keep returning to the post’s message in my...
Dear Devoted Readers, (all three of you)‚ I’ve thought of y’all. A lot. But. The seductive pull of quiet, going deeper. deeper. down. down. inward. inward. was stronger. My right brain, versus my chatty, left, writerly brain, has taken over the controls....
Pandemic salve, solace, and salvation have manifested in the form of forested park walks these last nearly four months. Hardly a day has passed without their denouement. Emotional fatigue, battles of the mind, of the heart, were almost always dissected in the cocoon...
These. Are candid words. They will be offensive to some. I speak my truth. Sometimes truth hurts. I was raised Southern Baptist. It wasn’t until working for the denomination, in my fifth communications position, that I saw true Christian love demonstrated and...
Feels a wee bit vulnerable to write this: I feel like I’m experiencing a creative renaissance…. I was nervous about Monday night’s storm. Sunday night’s….Holy. Nashville had what is being called a hurricane on land. Seventy mph winds. No joke....
From Heartache to Hope: middle tennessee families living with autism, a book by Leisa A. Hammett & photographer Rebekah Pope. Click here for more info plus ordering details.
