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Message Received

Message Received By Christy Moe-Marek “I heard my mother talking to me yesterday,” a client recently told me. “I was half asleep and I had just been talking about her, so it was probably nothing. I’m sure it was just a dream,” her tone quieted in the telling and her…

<img alt='Christy Moe-Marek' data-srcset='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=140&d=mm&r=g 2x' height='70' width='70' decoding='async' data-src='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=70&d=mm&r=g' class='avatar avatar-70 photo lazyload' src='data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAAAAACH5BAEKAAEALAAAAAABAAEAAAICTAEAOw==' /><noscript><img alt='Christy Moe-Marek' src='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=70&d=mm&r=g' srcset='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=140&d=mm&r=g 2x' class='avatar avatar-70 photo' height='70' width='70' decoding='async'/>

Christy Moe-MarekAugust 17, 2018

Guest Blogs

The Playfulness of the Unknown

The Playfulness of the Unknown By Christy Moe Marek The other night, while enjoying dinner with my dad and bonus mom on the deck sweetly nestled in the treetops of the woods behind our house, we chatted about our dogs and the grief of outliving them when our love together…

<img alt='Christy Moe-Marek' data-srcset='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=140&d=mm&r=g 2x' height='70' width='70' decoding='async' data-src='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=70&d=mm&r=g' class='avatar avatar-70 photo lazyload' src='data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAAAAACH5BAEKAAEALAAAAAABAAEAAAICTAEAOw==' /><noscript><img alt='Christy Moe-Marek' src='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=70&d=mm&r=g' srcset='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=140&d=mm&r=g 2x' class='avatar avatar-70 photo' height='70' width='70' decoding='async'/>

Christy Moe-MarekJuly 23, 2018

Guest Blogs

A Space for Grace to Enter

A Space for Grace to Enter by Christy Moe Marek The stillness of a recent early summer morning found me in the garden. As I tended and planted and otherwise lost myself in creation, I heard rustling behind me and turned to find my dog Ritter belly up, rolling around…

<img alt='Christy Moe-Marek' data-srcset='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=140&d=mm&r=g 2x' height='70' width='70' decoding='async' data-src='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=70&d=mm&r=g' class='avatar avatar-70 photo lazyload' src='data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAAAAACH5BAEKAAEALAAAAAABAAEAAAICTAEAOw==' /><noscript><img alt='Christy Moe-Marek' src='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=70&d=mm&r=g' srcset='https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/c485389bf3947b87477ba92592eef9a3?s=140&d=mm&r=g 2x' class='avatar avatar-70 photo' height='70' width='70' decoding='async'/>

Christy Moe-MarekJune 16, 2018

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