This post won’t be for everyone. But I’m pretty sure it will be for someone. Consider it a salve for the sisters who need less silent treatment and more Silent Night. Or a nod to those who secretly think Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer is a catchy little tune. Woundedness landed us there. But it doesn’t
I am fresh off an actual in-person conference and it felt like writer’s cramp and a sore face. I haven’t taken notes in two years, not by hand. Those muscles mounted a mutiny. And my laugh-out-loud-until-it-hurts muscles? They needed to be flexed more than I knew. In one workshop, my friend Mary DeMuth pressed her
If there’s one thing we need as we hop out of the dumpster fire of 2020 into the hope of 2021, it’s newness. New hearts. New wonder. New wineskins. Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow, but thank goodness we’re not. We’d stay stuck. We’d wander. We’d regress. We need someone loving to help
This post won’t be for everyone. But oh dear goodness, it will be for someone. Consider it a salve for the sisters who need less silent treatment and more Silent Night. Or a nod to those who secretly think Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer is a catchy little tune. Or a lifeline for
My family recently tuned in to a show featuring two comedians. One asked the other, “Have you ever said to yourself, ‘I don’t think I can do this?’” “Right up until the curtain opens,” the other comedian said without missing a beat. The other nodded his head, knowingly. “I don’t know why I even picked
The call sheet on my breakfast bar put the indisputable facts in black and white. Talent — that would be me — was to report hair- and makeup-ready by 7 a.m. It was my big break. My 15 seconds of fame. My first role in a real-live video production. I’d shopped, ironed five outfits, and