Fugitive dust: a phrase used to describe the New Mexican desert’s response to seasonal high winds. When I first heard the phrase it intrigued me, and caught my imagination. How can dust run away? And isn’t that just as appropriate a depiction of my interaction with the Creator God, who knows how I am formed and mercifully, graciously remembers that I am dust? (Psalm 103:14)

Wife: Keith and I are in our fourth decade of life together. He’s my husband, partner, best friend, traveling companion and generally favorite human being to hang out with. Life has been good and hard, sweet and messy. But by God’s grace marriage has been easy.

Mother: We have a daughter and a son; adult children who are interesting, intelligent, sensitive, huge-hearted people in their unique ways. Their stories are their own to tell, and these days ours seem to touch only as tangents.

Transplant: Born and raised in a Conservative Jewish family, I came to believe and follow Jesus during my sophomore year in college. More than a decade ago, Keith and I moved from the Chicago area, where I had until then lived my whole life, to Albuquerque. Despite length of time, sometimes everything seems unfamiliar. I actually enjoy change, but also continue to grow in my understanding of my real need for an unchanging Solid Rock from which to launch and to which to retreat.

This blog challenges my discomfort with vulnerability. And I wonder whether I really have anything to say that’s worth hearing. At the encouragement of dear friends and Father-God I’m releasing my voice: from my mind and heart, from the silence of my journal’s pages, from murmurs within the refuge of trusted circles. I pray somehow this eclectic collection of observations in prose and poetry, musings from the kitchen and the bus and the writing of others, sparks wonder, perspective-shift, blessing, thought-provocation, delight, civil (I really MEAN that!) discourse, and inspiration two ways – from me to you, and back again.