The basket floated down
Down to privilege town
Passing through her gates
And into her arms
Changing the game
Moses was the son of a slave, born during a genocide. For fear that the ever-growing slave population would rise and revolt, the pharaoh ordered all young boys to be killed. Moses’s mother placed him in a basket and sent him down the river in hopes of saving him.
He floated to the palace and right into the arms of the pharaoh’s daughter.
When I read the beginnings of Moses, I cannot help but notice the pharaoh’s…
I wouldn’t have believed it was possible…to lose weight without dieting. I grew up with juice fasts and low calorie diets that were intensely restrictive and still felt like they took forever to see results.
But I did. I lost 45lbs without dieting.
Here are five keys to my success.
My goal for 2020 was to lose 45 pounds, but I wanted this time to be different. I knew there had to be a way to get healthy without feeling like all the joy of life was being sucked away from me. …
It feels like such an understatement to say that this has been an interesting year. Suffice it to say, we all know too well what the shitty parts of 2020 were. But what about the good parts? What have you learned? How have you grown? How have you changed?
I’m a strong believer that good can come out of evil, that beauty can sprout from the ground of ugly. Just look at how the luscious leaves fall and die in Winter to make room for the flowers to bloom in Spring.
Allow what needs to die to die So new…
Was the night silent?
Maybe miraculously so,
but I doubt it.
Was the night holy?
Yes, I would say so,
earthly yet divine.
I remember sitting in a Christmas church service last year listening to the band sing Silent Night, when there was a sudden interruption to the melodic sound. A cry of a baby. It was loud and echoed throughout the auditorium. A mother, clearly embarrassed, tried to calm her child. People stared, they glared, they whispered. Eventually, she rushed out of the gathering to the lobby.
I wish she had stayed. I wish I could have told her…
A slender woman with long black hair walked briskly beneath hanging red lanterns. She didn’t look up. The crowded streets were lined with restaurants and small shops labeled with symbols she could not read or understand.
She came upon a run-down apartment building, opened the door, and took the elevator to the eighth floor. She knocked on a door bordered in red with the number 889. After the sound of shuffling feet came the clink of the door as it was unlocked.
“Lina, you are here. Come in, come in.”
“Hi Ma,” Lina said as she stepped inside and took…
Poet, writer, creative enthusiast. Wife and mother of two. Lover of different cultures and perspectives. Passionate about authenticity and bridge building.