I do that sometimes. It’s a way to stay in touch. And email just floats off into the ether like they did, so who knows? It doesn’t feel any more futile than anything else I do. I wrote to my long-dead aunt’s former ex-husband awhile ago. He’s dead too,...
“That dimple on the inside of your wrist?” says Sister Mary Herman. “It’s a scar from Jesus’ crucifixion. That’s where the nails were hammered through. His agony was so great that you bear the mark of it. Remember his pain and your sin every time you move your hand.”...
I loaf and invite my soul – but only if the article that caught my eye is prefaced with a probable time commitment that fits into my tightly-scheduled day. Estimated Reading Time: 4 min I check my color-blocked dual-indexed triple-prioritized daybook. I might be able to read the piece...
I married Husband because he’s smarter than I am. I like that in a person. Sons #1 and #2 are smarter than I am, too. Or will be, once they finish figuring things out. That pleases me as well. It’s trivial things that don’t please me. Things that don’t...
The sky this morning is astonishingly pretty, pastel pink and baby blue – colors I despise except on rare winter mornings when a full moon is setting over the mountains and the cold bare trees are sparkling with a layer snow. I stop swearing as I scrape ice off...