Laurel Elisabeth Stevens

The Windhover,  a publication of Mary Hardin-Baylor, has recently published an essay of mine entitled "Sometimes in Church." You can order a copy of The Windhover here and also see excerpts from the issue,  including my essay, in Volume 24.2. I wrote this essay before COVID-19 kept us from regularly meeting together in church, and rereading it has brought me back to a former time--before extra spaces between seats, before masks, before church-on-the-living room couch. I miss singing in church and singing with fervor. Not just any song, although I do love singing Les Miserables and LaLa Land songs while Elisabeth plays them on the piano, and you'd be surprised at how many Stevenses can start belting songs from Frozen 2  all together.  I miss congregational singing. Yes, we sing along with the online church service, and that is very good. But it is not the same. I look forward, and with hope, to the time when we can all join in congregational singing again, witho...

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. . .We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Romans 8:18, 22-24 Late teenage years— I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, my hand fidgeting with the blue bedspread bedecked with peach and pink flowers. My mom sits at the foot of the bed. I'm puzzling over this passage from the book of Romans that I'm sure I've read before, but is suddenly vivid. Life has gotten scarier. My older brother Tim is down the hall at the other end of the house, his arm in a cast and other bones still healing—his pelvis among them. He'd done something stupid—aided by alcohol, the urging of friends, and his own ri...