Mondays are my day off, from what exactly I’m unsure. I sometimes eliminate little emails from my inbox on Mondays, emails I’d rather not see on Tuesday or would, by Tuesday, like to see a new iteration of in the form of the sender’s reply. I try not to work on Mondays so that I…
sabbatical: week 1
In no other way could I have known how many cymbals, sirens and bulldozers were tromping around in my head, frolicking like job-less teens in the summertime, except by stepping away from my job for two months. The noise was deafening, overwhelming. What percentage of the noise was inner critic or outer, I don’t know….
The good meetup
I’m that person who looks around O’Hare wondering who I know because there must be someone; the world isn’t that big, right? If I could page the entire airport, I would. “Hi folks. My name is Michaela Lawrence Jeffery. At least one of you knows me. Meet me in the F gates.” Twice. Twice I’ve…
Buying my life back
The event in this early stage of an essay took place several years ago. One day I’ll finish the essay. The heaviness I felt that afternoon is one I may not forget. So much, perhaps even everything, felt impossible. I’m not sure why I decided to go to a craft store. Did I believe I’d…
Not When It’s Hot: Writing Raw
The writing gurus say not to write about the pain when it is fresh. By that they do not mean not to write about it at all, but not to share it just yet when your skin is still hot, when your brain is still hot. Don’t share it when you’re still on fire. I’ve…
Take Me to the Water: a Baptism Story
Every year our church had at least one evangelistic series, at least that’s what I recall. At least one. If not three. On some scale. And the best thing about them wasn’t that people were giving their lives to Jesus, although of course that’s a wonderful thing, but for me at age 7, the best thing about these evangelist series was the baptism at the end.
Making the Days Count
And I’m learning that to sit with grief (which is sometimes seemingly out of the reach of hope or any warm sentiments) is to honor our capacity to love. At some point the chest hurt eases but I’m not grabbing for that moment.