He was in his pajamas, my own little boy was, and we had gotten the Bible story book. Starting at the beginning, going one at a time, we settled in,

It’s a Saturday morning. We are still in our pajamas, as is our wont, starting the day real slow. I glance over at Little Schrock, a cozy, little cat in

“She makes me laugh,” he says, distressed. Mama listens. “And then I get in trouble.” Pressured sigh. “I’m behind on my work. I have so much work!” I nod. “She

It’s been coming for weeks. Snow, drifting, piling, packing and plopping. Faster than one can shovel, it falls, burying mailboxes, cars and, in one reported case, a smallish, sluggish, decaffeinated

Trials and hardships and fire come to test us. And weren’t many of us walking like that? A classmate, now widowed. A friend, divorce looming. Someone else, single parenting. And

Congratulations to Barb Snyder, winner of this small, caffeinated American mama’s favorite coffee, Salted Caramel! Thanks for participating. It’s Valentine’s Day (as though you could miss it). In the coffee

This post was written in the glorious light of the springtime sun. Today, the sun breaks golden on The Three, casting diamonds aglitter o’er the snow-encrusted land. And Father’s heart,

FacebookTwitterGoogle+DiggPinterestBloggerWhat a business trip that was. And what a sight for sore eyes. Or wait. A sight for frostbitten eyes is what it was. I nearly felt bad announcing it.

It was May 1985. In a warm church sanctuary on a Friday night, 11 teenagers vibrated with excitement. In the pews behind them gathered family. Friends. Coworkers and bosses. Grandparents,