If this were ‘B’ week, I’d remind you that I live in a nest of B’s.  As in boys – four of ’em plus their dad.  I’m awash in a sea of

“Come, best friend!” I heard Little shout over his shoulder to the boy at the park, and he disappeared in a flash of denim. After the muggy Indiana weather, we’d

Yesterday, a status happened through my news feed that cracked me up.  “Goodbye, shrub.  Hello, teenager with very fragile, tenuous cell phone privileges,” it said.  I could only guess what had happened. 

For the first time, we were able to introduce the southern siblings to the event they’d heard so much about.  With Mom and Dad Yoder joining us and Mom’s aunt

My thorn in the flesh remains just that – a sharp, relentless thorn.  We’ve prayed for months, and still it sticks; stinging, burning like fire (some days more than others) as we

“I left a part of me there,” he said only this morning, feeling it keen.  I smiled.  “That’s how your brother felt when he went to Mexico.” They’d returned, those

When you write, it feels as if your words tumble out into a great, black gulf.  You can’t see people’s faces. Can’t look into their eyes.  You don’t know for sure if anyone

Inventive critters that they are, they were launching themselves off the side of the trampoline on that tire swing, one of them with whoops of delight (Boy Two), one of

That’s exactly what happens inside my brain.  Just when I think I have the weekly schedule figured out, someone will canter past my desk, dropping a casual, “Oh, by the

I’d taken off early this morning, chunky backpack with the girlish accents tucked in behind me, and headed for my favorite place in the world to create.  I’d savored my coffee, freshly