A friend and I spent an hour trading stories about our kids and their shortcomings this week. There was the kid who instigated a screaming match at the lunch table, the kid who threw a fit and sassed their father, the kid who got caught making bets at school, the kid who forgot to send in an important permission slip,…
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When friendship takes time
Organized sports remain something of a mystery to me. As do boys, especially those of the twelve-year-old variety. Or the forty-year old variety, if I’m totally honest. I’m a girly girl to the core, so when my son asked if we could host a Super Bowl party for ten of his friends, I immediately started to worry about my cushion…
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A Slow Burning Faith
I remember the broken stories the most. The stories of addiction, abuse, or good kids gone bad, but then, Hallelujah! Salvation and redemption from the worst fate. When people told their conversion stories from the baptismal or the pulpit, these were the stories that stuck. Meat clung to their bones, and you could feast on them for days, chewing on…
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Books on my nightstand: It’s been a long winter Edition
I set a (rough) reading goal for myself this year, and so far it seems like this is the only goal that’s going to stick. Probably because I’m as loosey-goosey about goals as I am about everything else. Except clutter. I’m super uptight about clutter. My family finds this charming, or so I like to believe. Books are my biggest…
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Wonderlust
His hair made me laugh. It took on a life of its own when he conducted. It flopped and flailed about his head like a drama queen, and I wondered if he let it grow long especially for this effect. I’ve never seen a bald orchestra conductor, maybe dramatic hair is part of the job description. When I wasn’t staring…
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