what happens when God stands on a diving board

My childhood lives on a small plot of land in the block between Gladstone Avenue and Meridian Street. Our house sits on her foundation there and smells of lemon, bacon, and a rainy day. Two bedrooms and one bath seems perfectly fine to me and our family of four will live in this little white house with the gravel drive for eleven years. I want to tell you about it, about the joys and the fears and how it all comes back around. I’m a little nervous and a lot thankful to be telling the story at Ann’s place today. Join me at A Holy Experience?



  1. Thea says

    I enjoyed reading this article. My children (and I ) have unique fears. I will be adopting your approach ..”maybe next time.” That phrase alone brings this Mama comfort. Thanks again for sharing your thoughts.

  2. says

    There’s always much to love about your words, Emily. Always. Loved your post today at Ann’s. All of it.

    But this one line, as a mama, burrowed in deep: “I hold her and whisper the it’s-okays and maybe-next-times, but one thing I don’t do is dismiss it.”

    Thank you, Emily. I need to remember that.

    Oh … and I “get” the nervous thing … and the thankful thing. I’m still shaking, just a little. :)

  3. says

    Oh Emily. How this resonates with me. I lived most of my childhood with fearful thoughts and was afraid to step up to any challenges. I don’t think my mother knew how to handle that or maybe she was just tired by the time she got to me (the youngest of 5 girls). Nevertheless, I don’t place blame anymore. With the guidance of our Great God, I got over that a quite a few years ago. I’m a mom of 3 now (15 and 13 year old girls and an 8 year old son). When they are fearful, they share it with me and I do everything I can to acknowledge, accept, and guide them in the right direction. As I sit by my Bridget’s (13) hospital bedside, “my rolling cars show up differently now” resonates with me. (She had back surgery to correct scoliosis two days ago.) Worry that she won’t be okay. Worry that I won’t be able to take care of her. Worry that I won’t wake up when she needs me. But Bridget has no worries. She is blowing everyone away with her strength and determination. There is no fear. She is looking forward…getting back to ballet and pointe and jazz and tennis. She is full of confidence. She knows that the worst is behind us. The surgery is over. Then I remember “But if we have forgotten how to live, it’s only because we have also forgotten we’ve already died. The life we hold on to isn’t really ours. And it’s hard to fear a thing if the worst is behind us.”

  4. Rebecca says

    I have struggled with many of the same fears. And then react by just pushing away my fears and feel that is much of what the world and people around me want too. And then with my children, I have to be careful how I address their emotions, fears, and dreams. I don’t want to “train” them the same way I have been trained (either by myself or people/circumstances around me). Thank you for your words.

  5. says

    I have a friend who paints. She is an amazing artist. I am in awe that I know someone who can paint the way she does. Breathtaking. Moving. Brushstrokes capturing life and beauty, giving glory to the Father. And that is what I have prayed to be able to do with words. “Father, I want to do with words what Mary does with paint.”

    And to me, that is what Ann does and that is what you do. I could not help but think what a perfect fit you were to be at her place. A place of beauty and grace. A place where words paint vivid pictures that still me and yet stir me all at the same time. (Random side note…I do so hope you share your fiction someday. The way you use words, Emily…oh, my. I would buy your book without a doubt.)

    Anyways, long comment to say your post at Ann’s place is a blessing. I loved these lines especially…
    “She is facing her own death, her own fear of what might be if she were to let go and fly free. Even though it’s true that she is safe, there is grace for her to walk into it at her own pace, in her own time.”
    Humbled by and ever needful of His grace…and thankful that He does not shame me for not jumping off the diving board. His love, it truly is so safe.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *