I’m an artist, a preschool teacher, a Bible enthusiast, and a lifelong lover of words. I write because I always have—because it’s how I make sense of the world, how I tell the truth, and how I stay awake to God’s presence in the middle of an often messy life.
I wrote my first poems at thirteen, long before I knew what I would become. Reading and writing have always been home to me, especially when it comes to conveying spiritual truths about God and Scripture. Over time, that love deepened into a calling—not just to write, but to encourage, question, wrestle, and hope out loud.
As an adult, I earned my degree in Early Childhood Education, a journey that shaped both my teaching and my faith. I currently work as a preschool teacher and hope to write more intentionally about early education in the future—especially about children, learning, and the sacredness of beginnings.
This blog holds two main threads: theology and memoir. You’ll find reflections on the Bible alongside essays drawn from my own imperfect, unfinished story. I write about faith, depression, frustration, and the ache that comes when life doesn’t turn out the way we planned—or prayed. I also live with ADD, which means my thoughts can be fast, scattered, curious, and deeply sincere. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed, discouraged, or quietly hopeful in the middle of confusion, you’re not alone here.
I live in Massachusetts, have a family I love, and my children are grown now—another chapter that continues to shape my writing. When I’m not teaching or writing, I’m cooking, creating, drawing portraits (something I began later in life), organizing everything in sight, working out, shopping, or going out to eat. I love beauty, order, imagination, and the simple joy of making something from nothing.
This space is an invitation—to read, to reflect, to struggle honestly, and to find encouragement in Scripture and shared experience.
Thanks for being here. Check out my blog, stay awhile, and feel free to wander through the words.
The Opal Ring
In middle school, I was assigned to write a short story. I must have mentioned it to my dad. I remember him leading me into his bedroom — the room that was always locked, always shut. It felt forbidden. There was a bathroom no one was allowed to use, a secret closet with, a door…
The Shrill Loud Voice
Our new neighbors live across the river from us. Between our small cottage and their blue‑tarped shanty runs a long, crooked river that leads to a deep, beautiful lake in New England. It wraps nearly 270 degrees around our . rolling green hills, tall maples, and sun‑dappled grasses. “It looks like a park,” my oldest…
The Work is Done
Oh my Father, oh my Shepherd King The love you offer are tears that sting salty wounds and ashen face lonely deserts , lands of waste Rocky Terrace , unknown Depths a wooden cross , a painful death to know this glory how can I bear to taste the suffering and heaven share unless you…
Struggles of Faithful Proportions
Lord I know that you know me, for that reason my fear is small the innermost parts of my heart, the innocent Ways that I fall. Every thought and intent of my soul, The longings you see every one the quiet reflections , the hopes and exceptions the works both complete and undone the tiny…
The Beach
This is the place where everything is magically okay. Where just for a moment in time and space I can forget the world around me and yet at the same time the world is all around me.
Unknown Sands
The tiny islands of Bermuda are actually made up of more than 100 islands, formed by extensive volcanic activity. The island is known and loved for its white sand, pink beaches and turquoise waters. I find it interesting that something as ruinous as a volcano could produce one of the world’s favorite tourist attractions.
Poem To My Younger Self
Kim Blenkhorn I read the words you wrote in tears I felt your desperation In every line a scream for help A need for consolation On every page after page after page Words poured out like rain Tell the tale of a of a broken heart A Young lover lost in pain You didn’t have…
Re-Written
Going through boxes in the basement that have been there for twenty years untouched, unremembered and sorely neglected is no small task, but it must be done. The things of the past must be sorted. In the sorting we find ourselves again. We uncover parts of ourselves that have been lost, delayed, and sorely in…
Broken Things
As Children bring their broken toys with tears for us to mend, I brought my broken dreams to God, because he was my friend Surely, he would see the need, And go to work at once, Prioritizing all my things, And meeting all my wants, I waited for what seemed some time For him to…
Praise you with Darkness
I will praise you with my darkness, you have called me to this place, I will praise you when your hidden because it calls to my faith I will praise you in the morning I’ll praise you in the eve with empty hands surrender and follow with crippled feet I’ll lift my voice to worship…
I am that Bird
It was a slight commotion that caused me to turn my head. A small bird had flown down the chimney and into my kitchen
Midlife
Midlife is all about growth in my humble opinion. Maybe we have a big midlife growth spurt to get ready for a second round of reproduction, not literal birthing of a tiny person, but birthing something that was set inside us at the beginning of time to be born and brought forth at an appointed…
Our Past Doesn’t Determine our Future
A short story about cookies, finishing well and learning new ways to do things.
A Taste of Maine
The first time I loved Maine I was driving down Vassalboro road five long hours from home. The road was stretched out before us like the pan American highway; it was lined with golden fields and farm lands as far as the eye could see. Massive, round bales of hay dotted the country side like…
Women
The word of God exalts females who serve God and obey his word. God doesn’t look upon the outward but the inner parts of mankind, the heart, the heart which has no sex organs. Right?
Joel
My firstborn is living his first year in college and I am so proud of him, but being a parent feels complicated to me right now. I feel like our relationship is lacking in all the ways I begged God it wouldn’t . I used to pray regularly for God to make me the mother…
Sound Sensitive
For children the world can be a place of adventure or a place of fear and uncertainty, and most often a little of both.
My Faith Place 