When I was young, I thought I could define the world by dividing people into categories. But if I could write that young girl a letter now, what would I say to her? Dear Younger Me...
Time keeps on ticking...The Big Game. The Ground Hog. A Birthday. Transitions Galore. There is a lot going on at our house these days. Do I embrace it all or wish it away?
Jerry McGuire famously shouted "Help me, Help You." As, one morning, I find myself channeling my inner Jerry, I wonder am I motivating anyone anymore? Who should I be helping really?
Should I write a list of resolutions to start out 2018? Or just let the theme of one word be my guide for the year?
Reflections on 2017 lead me to wonder if heartbreak is the price for living a courageous life and teaching my children to do the same.
What do I do when the traditions of my past and the trends of today cause stress? The Bible tells me Mary paused to treasure all these things, but I can't even get my gifts wrapped.
Saying goodbye to a favorite uncle, a jolly guy who taught me so much about living, is hard to do.
December should dazzle. Yet, why am I always left feeling less than? Is it possible our culture sets us parents up to fail as the year comes to an end?
How can I love my family, so why are the holidays so exhausting? I explore the past and wonder if there are clues to making the future a little more merry and bright.
I am a storyteller who cannot write. I am a mom who struggles to parent. Are those statements really true?