On the eve of Daniel’s Day, a five-year-old says, “I don’t want to go tomorrow.” What begins as a question about Saturday plans becomes something much deeper: a father learning that his child does not need to become brave enough for tomorrow. Tomorrow needs to become safe enough for his child.
Author Archives: The Treehouse Family/System
And All Before Breakfast
Before breakfast on Jude’s Day, a night of disturbing dreams opens into questions of belonging, work, therapy, faith, family, and what it means to build a life in which no one has to disappear for the family to survive.
Sometimes You Run Out of Glue
Sometimes what looks unfinished is finished. Sometimes what emerges from the fire is more truthful than what we intended to make. And sometimes the next step in rebuilding a life begins with knowing when to stop, look at what is already here, and let God turn the page.
One Little Thing
Some problems arrive so large that we disappear inside them. On Hope’s Day, an insurance envelope, memories of architecture, a lesson from Mom, and a Bruce Springsteen song taught us something different: one little thing. Then another. Hope is not knowing how everything will turn out. Hope is learning how to remain here while we find out.
The Shape in the Plaster
For much of our life, Proverb could see things Dad could not. He bridged the inner and outside worlds, helped his brothers, and somehow helped a family survive a life Dad did not yet understand. Now, at twelve, Proverb is learning something entirely different: he does not have to hold everything together.
The Protector and the Page
What happens when an eleven-year-old protector who has always understood love through duty and work discovers that his family no longer needs him to save the old world? On Justus’s Day, we begin learning that freedom requires something different.
Made You Look
For as long as Dad can remember, strange things have happened in the body his family shares. What once seemed frightening and inexplicable eventually became something else: a way for his sons to say, “Made you look.”
The Crater and the Tree
A seven-year-old set a boundary. A difficult conversation crossed it. In the aftermath, our family looks at the crater without allowing it to become the whole landscape—and asks what children need in order to remain safe, free, and fully alive.
Something More Than Messages in Bottles
We call ourselves a plural family/system. Our language may not always be the language someone uses to search for people like us. Maybe by meeting people where they’re at, it will help them meet us where we’re at. We need something more than messages in bottles.
There is So Much Life Here
A plural family can look remarkably functional after hours of invisible work helping one another move from fear and overwhelm toward safety, connection, and ordinary life. This is the story of what happens between the storm and the person the world finally sees.
