A friend asked me a good question in a roundabout way. Let’s say my child is in one of those seasons when they’re hard to love.
…Or even being a jerk.
A friend asked me a good question in a roundabout way. Let’s say my child is in one of those seasons when they’re hard to love.
…Or even being a jerk.
Four years ago, my husband and I squinted through snow flurries as we wound our way to Denver.
We were driving my 13-year-old to an MRI screening for cancer.
Lymphoma is a primary consideration, the radiologist had said, goading us toward the test that day.
This week has dabbled in the frenetic at my house. Uh. More than usual.
Rather than writing you a half-baked post, I’m pulling from the archives some chalkboard art of a printable prayer–an artistic version of this challenging Franciscan benediction:
I sat with a friend recently, warming my hands over a fire pit as the nights here in Colorado begin to slide into fall. What she and her family have been through is nothing short of horrific, and it felt sacred to listen to her story in relative silence.
They’re on the other side of tragedy now–the side they weren’t sure they’d ever see. But because they made it through the trauma, she explained quietly, everyone thought they were okay now.
This is one of those posts where I’m not an expert, just a mom. (Um, most of my posts?!)
But maybe these small ideas will help. And if I’m smart, I’ll keep this short, right?
A couple of weeks ago one of my teenagers was super-miffed with my husband and me.
On a car ride home from church, after explaining a biblical position we held on a touchy subject, this unnamed teenager maintained his shock and sudden anger.
So this past weekend was the community garage sale in my small town. Though I’m really aspiring to greater simplicity, a community garage sale is my kryptonite.
I was super-excited about a necklace I found. But when I paired the necklace with a bracelet I’d nabbed for $.50, my husband’s eyebrow cocked. Not a good sign.
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