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In which this is my best of May

Elizabeth Esther hosts a monthly blog round-up of our best posts for the month. There are some wonderful writers and thinkers over there, so head over and link up your “best of the month” post as well.

I should probably have picked “In which Osama bin Laden is dead” because it quickly sky-rocketed to being my “most read post” in less than a week. Thank you so much for your comments on it and for sharing it around with your friends. It’s nice not to feel “alone” in my uneasy-pacifism. Also, I appreciate that you guys like talking mummy-blogging stuff with me, sure, but you also like to throw down on politics, current affairs, issues and our responses to all of the above. I like you people. (Maybe we should start a commune or something?)

Yet I quite liked In which we are not invisible because it seems that we mothers are all feeling the same way and In which I meet two readers at McDonald’s and the truth comes out because it’s about blogging and truth telling.

I also really got a kick out of my poem “In which I imagine being an old lady.” (The greatest compliment on that post? My dad asked if it was a repost from “a real writer” or if I did it – proud moment to say “Yep, that’s mine.” Then he told me I was funny.)

But the one I chose was “In which we sit around the fire to tell good stories.” It’s a follow-up post to one I wrote a little over a year or so ago about wanting to stop calling myself a Christian, my broken-heartedness in response to the Church that I saw at the time.

I know your thoughts around God and church and organised religion are tender and bruised, angry and exhausted. 


Mine, too, sometimes.


So I want us to sit around a fire pit on a beach under a dome of stars in a navy blue sky, watching the moon on the water in companionable silence. 


It was written, right from my heart, for us all.

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