There is an ancient and joyous Paschal greeting that has echoed across generations of Christians, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ and proclaiming hope, new life, and the victory of life over death. He is risen!He is risen indeed! It is such a simple exchange, and yet it carries the weight of everything Easter means….
Tag: belonging
The Other Way Around
Here Down Under, everything always feels a little bit the other way around. While the northern hemisphere is welcoming Easter in springtime and Christmas in winter, we Australians are doing our own upside-down version of things — Christmas in summer heat, with sunburn, salads, and trips to the beach. Then Easter arrives with cooler mornings,…
The Stories We Keep
There is something about flour on the bench and the smell of cardamom and cinnamon in the air that loosens old stories. When I bake with my granddaughter in my kitchen, I notice that I begin again.The same stories. The same tone. Often the same hand gestures. I tell her about my grandmother’s kitchen —…
My Treasure Chest
When I look back, it isn’t the big moments that rise first. It’s the small hands. The weight of a child asleep against my chest. The way time softens when you are watching someone you love grow. Life keeps bringing them to me — first as babies, then as children, then, almost without warning, as…
Stay, I Pray You
Last night I went to the theatre to see a live production of Anastasia, and from the moment it began, I felt myself being drawn into it completely. The costumes were exquisite, the music beautiful, the whole production tender and deeply moving. It was one of those rare performances where everything seemed to work together…
A Bird with Two Homes
Some journeys are so vast they seem almost impossible, and yet they happen quietly, without fanfare, written into the lives of those who simply keep moving between one world and another. That was what came to mind when I read about the small migratory birds that leave the Arctic coasts and the Nordic tundra each…
Storyteller
My phone flashes the warning again: Storage almost full. Again. I take a lot of photos. Not for an audience. Not to curate a flawless life. I take them to gather crumbs — breadcrumbs scattered through the forest of my days. Each image a small, shining proof that I noticed. That I felt. That I…
Miss You Most
When the lilacs begin to bloom and the forest floor turns into a sea of white lily of the valley, that is when I miss you most of all. The air grows heavy with perfume, drifting through my memories like mist through birch trees — soft and persistent, quietly calling me back. When your nights…
The Strength of a Bridge
Some days it rests quietly within me. Other days it rises gently to the surface — not asking for attention, simply asking to be acknowledged. I was eleven when I stepped off a plane into Australia. The sky felt impossibly wide. The light sharper. The language fast and unfamiliar. I sensed very quickly that survival…
Breathing Again
Autumn is my spring. While others come alive with the first blossoms and the lengthening days of spring, I stir awake with the falling leaves — with the crisp bite in the air and the golden hush that settles gently across the world. It’s as though something deep within me has been lying dormant through…
Apples of Gold 