I’d like to thank my friends on social media for last weekend’s cinematic reconnaissance. No mascara, check. Tissues, check. Prepare to love Amy Grant more than I already do, check. But Oh. My. Goodness. By the time I saw “I Can Only Imagine” Sunday I was primed, but still unprepared. I paid $9.75 for a
It’s amazing what taillights do to a mom’s heart. My 17-year-old Man Cub drove off to get a haircut and hang out with friends today. His hands were at 10 and 2. He checked his mirrors. His seatbelt was secure. But those taillights. They trigger feelings. It’s wonderful and terrible to watch our kids drive
The story ends with an alpaca wool sweater, a $50 bribe and a cream pie coming toward my face. But like stories do, this one starts at the beginning. Or maybe in the middle, during the years of exquisite angst when having the right friends means everything and having the wrong clothes means everything. The