stone

Revenge is still a stone I swallowed without knowing how long it would stay. When will it gravel? … © 2016 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.

bruise

The stairs were not there. Instead, opaque white plastic sheeting and orange cones consumed the crumbling concrete with the warning of new steps to navigate when the concrete dried and the caution of tape was soothed to safety. But now no cautious step could stop me when I set my instep on the railing, heaved … More bruise

flood/fire/flight

this is the speech I gave at the St. Olaf Gospel Choir’s Fall Concert today, as well as at a beautiful little church in Minneapolis a few weeks ago. thankful for the oppertunity to speak on racial justice and grieving, and for the incredible family I’m proud to sing with.  … I left the first … More flood/fire/flight

broken febuary

  I remember that broken February when I read Augustine for the first time, and I knew that I would never believe in his pear tree, his mother or his faith. His agonies of ecstasy, his fear and trembling joy, his surrender to whatever it was that called him. How impossible his healing. … I … More broken febuary

the first death

I am so young that I can’t remember the world being anything other than enormous. The road from our apartment to the park winds too close to being a journey I can’t make on six-year-old feet. My father holds my hand as I balance on the curb. I must have walked so many miles that … More the first death