It’s been called the “devil’s hour,” (3 A.M.)—the inverse of the time of Jesus’ crucifixion (3 P.M.) But I’ve never believed that. The Devil’s hour is any hour we give to him. Nonetheless, 3 A.M. is not my favorite hour. As an old friend once quipped, “Nothing much good happens after midnight.” “If you wake …
Lori and I looked at each other in desperation as tears filled our eyes. We had given up;Max, our Schnauzer, was lost forever, or so it seemed.Max is close to 15. I’m not sure what that is in “dog years,” but Max is old. If there issuch a thing as “doggie dementia,” I’m pretty sure …
In his memoir, Mailman: My Wild Ride Delivering the Mail in Appalachia and Finally Finding Home, author Stephen Starring Grant recounts how he lost his job in corporate America and became a postal worker. His new job allowed him to reconnect with his hometown and community, taking on the role as a “lifeline for lonely people,” …
Welcome home,” our son-in-law, John, greeted us with a wry grin. Lori and I had arrived home exhausted, having driven the 900-mile trip from Oklahoma to visit family. While we were gone, our other “little family” —daughter Madi, son-in-law John, and their three kiddos, Eli (13), Emmie (8), and Noah (2 )—had moved temporarily in …
Physical pain can be a voice, for good or for bad, whispering to us in our bumps and bruises, other times shouting: warning us of serious life issues lurking out there on the distant horizon. Sometimes, when we’re courageous enough to peer into the depths of pain, it reveals something more about life than what …