In Solidarity with Grief: A Reply to Ferguson
When I told my husband it was over, it wasn’t about the luggage. Maybe Ferguson is less about an 18-year old that most protesters have never met, and more about…
Read MoreWhen I told my husband it was over, it wasn’t about the luggage. Maybe Ferguson is less about an 18-year old that most protesters have never met, and more about…
Read MoreWhen I was just out of college, I housesat for an actress in Los Angeles. One afternoon, her dog ransacked the bedroom and shredded up whatever he could get his teeth on: blankets, books, and to my horror, an audition script for a TV show. I was young, not yet a Christian, and too embarrassed by the incident to say anything about it. I replaced the blankets and books, but had no clue how to find a replacement script. I pieced together what I...
Read MoreI was having one of those days when nothing seemed to be going as planned. I wanted to crawl back in bed so I could rise again to some other, new beginning. Just as I was having one of those mornings, for no apparent reason, a friend brought me a beautiful bouquet of roses, stargazers, and carnations. I inhaled their sweet fragrance and cut the stems at an angle so they’d absorb the water and nutrient packet I poured into the vase. And day by...
Read MoreWhen I worked as a camp counselor one summer, I had a girl in my cabin who was horrifically slow at everything. She was a precious fifth grade girl who just took her time getting things done. We were supposed to be at the flag pole at 7:30 in the morning, but you cannot wake your girls up before 7:00 am. I had half an hour to get seven girls ready, the cabin cleaned and walk to the flag pole. Well, with “Miss Take Her Time,” we were a few...
Read MoreI’ve never been a fan of Winnie-the-Pooh. Or Tigger. Or Piglet. Tigger was always too spastic. Piglet too nervous. And Pooh, just too pooh. But Eeyore? He was my kind of guy with his tacked-on tail and gloomy outlook, “Why bother? What’s the point? It doesn’t matter anyway.” As a kid, I had a little stuffed Eeyore. He was made of corduroy and filled with sawdust. (An appropriate stuffing for such a gloomy donkey, don’t you think?) He wasn’t...
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