by Lisa McCrohan | Aug 10, 2021 | grief, Happiness, Delight, Joy, Awe, Living Your Spirituality in Everyday Life, Soulful Poetry
The Hand of the Beloved My Darling, how is it that you search for Me like a poor beggar on hands and knees frantically scrounging the dirt floor for food? My Dear Heart, if you wish, I can continue to beg and scrounge alongside you, and we can keep bruising our hands...
by Lisa McCrohan | Mar 2, 2020 | Happiness, Delight, Joy, Awe, living with intention and purpose
In winter 2018/2019, I was feeling stuck and stagnant. I craved a new adventure – a physical challenge and a lift for my spirit. One day, my son asked if I wanted to go snowboarding. “Hmmm,” I thought, “Maybe this was the adventure I was craving.” But I had never...
by Lisa McCrohan | May 1, 2018 | feminine embodiment practices, Happiness, Delight, Joy, Awe, living with intention and purpose
I don’t remember the exact moment when I decided to stop justifying, explaining, rationalizing, or defending my decisions. But I do remember the myriad situations before when I’d “feel bad” for saying “no” to a request, when...
by Lisa McCrohan | Apr 24, 2018 | Happiness, Delight, Joy, Awe, Mindful Motherhood, Mindfulness in Everyday Life, Nourishing Our Connections
My son came home from Scouts last night and he had a story to tell me. But I was busy on my computer finishing up a project I had promised a big group. I have a few deadlines looming over me this month. And I felt the pressure to keep going and working, even though it...
by Lisa McCrohan | Dec 30, 2016 | Happiness, Delight, Joy, Awe, Living Your Spirituality in Everyday Life, Mindfulness in Everyday Life
For the last several years, around this same time at the end of the year, I do the same thing: While everyone is still asleep as I lay here in my bed, in the quiet. It’s still dark and cold outside. I’m warm and comfy in my bed thinking about this new year. I don’t...
by Lisa McCrohan | Dec 21, 2016 | Happiness, Delight, Joy, Awe, Living Your Spirituality in Everyday Life
{I talk, God listens}. It’s 2:30 a.m., God. And I am awake – silence, darkness, my pen and notepad, and my warm covers. Without the distractions of the day, the darkness provides a holy opportunity to listen and connect. Keith is dead {*Keith is a dear friend of...