Sunday mornings are hard—when it’s time to go to church. Only, there’s no church. Not one that feels like home, at least.

I used to think beauty was something you could arrange — a tidy room, a well-phrased sentence, a life that made sense …

When we moved to Spain, I felt like a beginner again. Simple things like grocery shopping or mailing a letter became …

This morning, I noticed the way the sunlight fell across the chipped mug on my table. Nothing dramatic. Just ordinary light on an …

Here in Spain, the bells ring every evening. They don’t wait for me to finish the laundry or close my laptop. They just ring. A remin …

For a long time, I said no to the idea of a blog. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I had much to say—or at least not in the kind of steady …