What a year it’s been. In fact, our continuing mantra, The Mister and I, is, “We just can’t pay to be bored around here.” At times, this is said with

The call came in late one evening. Who would be calling at this hour? Busy getting ready for bed, I heard The Mister pick up. And I heard his tone

When the skies above turn brown like mud and the national blood pressure spikes, you know it’s here. Yup. It’s Campaign 2012, and we’re up to our knees. It’s getting

“You’ve got to start believing that your prayers are powerful.” I stopped. For days, weeks and months, I’d been taking this particular concern to Him in prayer.  How many times,

Backpacks drop. Shoes, they plop. Words rush and tumble, ordinary moments weaving, thread like, on the loom, shuttle passing back and forth. And then it comes. “They’ve abandoned us,” he

I’ve learned to pick them out. These “folks of a certain age,” they stroll in early, usually packing laptops to surf the ‘net and check email as they eat a

“It’s a freeway out there,” she said, pointing at the road where a slew of soccer moms whizzed past. “During the summer, it slows down. Then school starts, and it’s

Oh, hi. You look like one of Mommy’s friends. She’s not around right now.  She said her brain is frazzled and she’s terribly busy, so she asked me to say

Finding out that you’re expecting when you weren’t expecting it is so shocking and, well, unexpected that it takes awhile to wrap your brain around it. Which, as we learned,

And he’s gone.  There he went, backpack on a tiny frame, swallowed up by a big, yellow bus that rolled to a stop, brakes screeching, on a cool August day