Being left behind can be traumatic: left behind as the bus drives away, left behind when the plane takes off, left behind as the ship departs. It can happen in less significant instances, too, like when I was a child and my mom and older brother, Dougie, were leaving to run an errand. “Do you …
I have a distant memory of my childhood: I’m wrapping my arms around my shoulders and rolling down a hill, free and full of life as my soul smiles back at the sun while at the same time, I’m lost in the turning, bathed in a warm light that’s interrupted by the tumbling chaos. But …
One of my favorite people, English Anglican priest (now retired) Nicky Gumbel, once said, “Don’t be afraid of pressure. Pressure is what transforms a lump of coal into a diamond.” He’s right, but sometimes we place undue pressure on ourselves. It may come from an unacknowledged desire to hasten the transformative process. Or we have …
“Look, babka,” Lori said excitedly. “Just like you got when we were in Brooklyn.” Not only was it a babka, it was a chocolate babka, my favorite flavor. “And look at the label; it’s a ‘Brooklyn Babka,’”I said as I placed it in our shopping cart. Turning the corner from the bread aisle, I envisioned …
“We picked a bad day to drive to Louisville,” I sighed to Lori as I peered out the kitchen window early in the morning. The snow was gently falling, adding to the previous day’s accumulation. The weather forecast predicted snow flurries through the day. A winter’s weather advisory compounded my apprehensions. Gazing on the snow-covered …