My first short story (very short)

“We’re moving.”

My jaw dropped and my forehead bunched up in disbelief.  I stared at my parents—first at one and then the other.  They were serious.

Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed and a dog howled.  I wanted to join them.  Nothing came out of my mouth.  I was completely speechless.  Everything in me wanted to run from the room.  I couldn’t move.  My feet were planted on the hardwood; legs so weak I couldn’t get up from the soft leather couch.

My mom continued where my dad left off, uncomfortable in the awkward silence, “We know this won’t be easy for you, being the only child, having to make new friends.”

“Yeah, no kidding!”  I had found my voice and my legs.  I ran to the stairs and up to my room, tears threatening.  I needed space.  I needed to think.

The evening light was fading.  A soft knock came at my door.  “Lucy?”

“Yeah?”  I said, barely above a whisper.

“Can I come in?”

“I guess.”  It was my mom.

She slipped in, and placed a bowl of chili and a thick slice of buttered bread on my dresser.  “I was worried when you didn’t come down for supper.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“I understand.  Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet.  I’m still thinking.  Maybe I’ll journal for awhile.

“All right.  We’re here if you need us.  Eat something, okay?”

My parents are the best.  Especially my mom.  She’s always making food and taking care of everyone.  My dad is a lot of fun, but he has to work a lot, so he’s not around as much.

I picked up my lime green and turquoise journal and started to write:

I’ve gone to the same school, the same church—all my life.  That’s fourteen years!  We’ve lived in this big old character home ever since I can remember. I can’t imagine my life anywhere else.  No window seat to read my favourite books in.  No sun porch for sharing a cup of tea with my Mom on a fall afternoon.  No backyard swing for my dad to make me scream on!  I’ll be losing my only home.

Besides that, how can I possibly face the world when everyone is a stranger?

Don’t. Want. To Leave.

I listened for a moment through my open window.  My parents were on the veranda.  I slipped downstairs, grabbed the cordless and went back to my room.

“Hey, Lucy, what’s up?”

“You don’t want to know…”

A week went by.  A week of moping around the house, phoning my best friend, Amy, and generally avoiding my parents.

It was Saturday.  The smell of frying bacon was wafting up the stairs.  My dad was singing an 80’s song off-key.  I can just imagine him doing his embarrassing dance moves and dipping my Mom.  How can he be so happy?

“Lucy, brunch is ready.”

I’m not missing waffles with vanilla custard and berry sauce. 


I enter the room, just as my dad dips mom.  “Hey, sweetie, wanna dance?”

He doesn’t wait for my answer.  I am suddenly spun around, one way and the other, ending off in a giant bear hug.  “Where’ve you been all week?”

“Uh, dad, you kinda dropped a bomb a couple of days ago.  I’ve been a little shell-shocked.  Hiding out.  Hoping I heard wrong.  Stuff like that.”

“Well, have a seat and let’s eat.  Maybe we can talk about it.”

Today, the table was set with extra care.  Red-checkered table cloth, red and yellow gerbera daisies.    My mom usually focuses so much on the food that she barely gets the table set.  I look up at her and catch her gaze.  We both tear up instantly.  I smile weakly.  Gerberras are my favourite.

“Daddy picked them up,” she whispered.

We pause to say grace and dig in.  I am suddenly ravenous.  Not eating much for a week makes a person hungry.  Between mouthfuls I tell Mom how amazing everything tastes.  Dad starts talking about the NBA finals.  I look at them and realize they haven’t changed.  We haven’t changed.  We’re family.  We’ll still be together.

As I lick the last bit of sauce off my fork, I decide that everything will be okay.  Life will go on after we move.  Life will even be good.  I smile.  I can do this.


You are a Treasure - a song for the Transgender Community (and for all of us)

Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice
That heartsick look in your eyes
You hide it very well, but I've got the same disguise

I know from all you see around you
You feel worth a very small price
So plain and ordinary, but there's a pearl inside

And if you look in the mirror in the light of the truth
You'll see there's really nothing you could say or do
To make you worth more to the One who made you

You are a treasure, worth more than anything
Under the sun or the moon, God's greatest treasure
Is the treasure of you, the treasure of you
That's a good news

The rich man treasures gold and silver
The wise man, his knowledge of truth
Some will hold to memories and some will cling to youth

But the one who carved out the oceans
And painted the stars in the sky
You are His prized creation, the apple of His eye

There's no one else in the world who could take your place
Just the thought of you brings a smile to His face
God loves you with amazing grace

You are a treasure, worth more than anything
Under the sun or the moon, God's greatest treasure
Is the treasure of you, the treasure of you

So take a look in the mirror in the light of the truth
Oh, yes it's true
See there's nothing more you can say or do
God loves the way He created you

You are a treasure, worth more than anything
Under the sun or the moon, God's greatest treasure
Is the treasure of you, the treasure of you

(Written by Steven Curtis Chapman and Geoff Moore, 1994)


A Poem for the LGBTQ community, written before WorldPride 2014

You look for love
Like anyone.
But you're different.

Your interests and desires
Don't seem to fit
Everyone's expectations.

Shame and rejection follow.
The wound goes deep.
Where is love now?

You're told you were born this way by some.
You're told you're sinful by others.
Where is hope now?

You go where you're accepted.
You still wonder who you are.
And if you could ever change.

But if you changed
Would you lose everything?
How could you face rejection a second time?

Could you be known
And accepted
Ever again?

You don't know there's Someone
Waiting for you
With arms wide open.

You don't know
He offers you
All the love you've ever longed for.

You don't know
He offers
Everything you need to be whole.

But I'm praying you will.
I'm praying you'll meet Him.

He knows you already.
He saw you before
You were born.

He knows your hurt.
He knows your heart.
And He's waiting for you with open arms.

He's waiting.


What I'm Learning--Dependence

For some reason, I felt drawn to volunteer to speak at my church. The topic was dependence and the Scripture was John 13:8, where Peter refuses to have his feet washed. Pride is what keeps us from letting others in to our messes and needs, and pride kept Peter from letting Jesus, his Master and Teacher, demonstrate radical humility by washing his feet.

 Jesus calls us to follow his example. Will we let pride get in the way or will we let him work in us until we can let go of pride? Here is a link to the audio recording of that message.

Who is Jesus? This is Jesus. A Song for Easter. A Song of Love.