I took a break from raking leaves just to watch Julia blow bubbles in the driveway and came to a realization. It’s was bit bigger than a social media post, so I put it here. #CommonGoodVoting #VoteForTheVoiceless
My customary blog post for Down Syndrome Awareness Month is a little late this year. I never realized how crazy a sports schedule could be, but it was oh so rewarding. I and hundreds of others witnessed something beautiful at the Homecoming game’s halftime routine when everyone gave a little so that everyone could win.
I still remember that cool, clear morning when I heard the unthinkable news. It still haunts us all in one way or another. But there is a better way to observe that sadness, if we have the courage.
The start of the school season brings a strange mixture of anticipation and terror for parents of kids with disabilities. With all of the changes for the worse in the world, this year feels a little scarier. This is a small letter of love and encouragement to my people in that most special community.
My days are full of tasks and demands that put me on a treadmill that’s hard to back away from. But taking a risk and initiating a short conversation with a stranger reminded me of something far more important than getting the next thing done.
The mix of danger and beauty of holiday fireworks speaks to something deep in my soul – especially when I think of my adventures with my brother.
But it’s interesting how the meaning changes when applied to relationships. What starts as exciting can turn into the thing we least want to address – and we avoid it at our peril.
If I find out about a trending social media post, you know it got some traction. This one impacted a lot of the Down syndrome community in not-so-good ways. It happened over a week ago, but I have a few things I want to share with a social media influencer I’ve never met…
In 2016, our church produced a video with Jocelyn’s story of our early journey with Julia. Watching it ten years later, I was reminded again that, though I’ve learned a lot, there is so much more…
I spent an evening watching my friend Chris perform with a longtime collaborator. Chris brings so much of himself to the performance and shares it quietly and humbly. And of course, I brought my camera along.
On this difficult anniversary, there is a special grief that I remember feeling as my understanding of who we were evaporated. But there is the hope of a larger reality we can take part in that can overtake our fear…
I’ve passed by people and scenes like this many times – and regretted not capturing them. This time I listened; and took an invite to a new personal creative assignment.
In the last hours of Advent, I sat in the cool darkness of the morning to reflect on how badly we need the miracle that would come…