By Kayla McClurg
The older I get the more I appreciate “liminal” spaces. Impossible to describe with crisp labels, these are the times marked by both grief and joy, despair and celebration. They are times of horrifying loss and isolation as well as tender surprise and intimacy. A tornado sweeps through, drawing a small town close together; a dearly loved one succumbs to addiction and we begin our own journey toward healing; a friend who has loved more freely and fully than any human one has loved before is publicly crucified and now is reported to be alive. It’s all so surreal; it’s all so normal—in liminal space.
Whenever we walk through a passage in-between, we know the liminal....
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