“The United States of America is a true miracle!” On the refrigerator door in my quiet, Midwestern home, these words. Above them on a small and simple card, the American

Word has come this morning that little Lincoln has finally met “his God.” My mind struggles to picture what Lincoln is seeing, to hear what he is hearing. To know

The hour is late. Darkness has fallen, and we’re spending time with some friends. Around a camp fire that sprang, all spontaneous, from a time of heart-to-heart exchange, they have

In a town far away from here, a little boy is dying. For two years, he’s put up a valiant fight. Many who love him and many more who do

In the picture, they’re gathered around, arms reaching. Some hands are lifted in supplication, and others are touching a man. In the center. The one in the middle of the

“If we can’t live as happy people, then who will want what we have?” That’s what’s on my mind today. Some years ago, I was thinking about the word “happy”