For all the pain in labor, there is a wild joy in the birthing.  I know that, too.  For we mamas (and daddies) are partners with God Himself in the

“Yes, tell us,” we say, looking at this one, our friend who’s plowing a tough road just now, life hammering hard.  “What did you do?” “I got my GED.”  She

I recalled the text that had come last Thursday, “Did you hear the bad news?  He was killed.” Surely everyone who received the terrible news that night thought instantly of

Job stress, family issues, cracks in the budget, and a mower that breaks.  Drop by drop, the leak begins.  A rivulet forms, and then a river, rushing, raging, sweeping away

Just home from an end-of-the-year meeting at school, I get Little his breakfast, grind up the beans, and measure fresh coffee into the filter.  Cream (the real kind) swirls like ribbons

It was on her face, that brave little mother bent over the keyboard just earlier today.  Beauty, I saw there, and peace resting on her visage. Son number two and

The year 2008 was a hard one for our small town.  Those of you who follow the blog regularly have read of those events.  The piece I’m sharing today is