A year of writing from the heart

When I sit down to work on a blog or any piece of writing, I start out with a plan to get me from Point A to Point B. Like any map, it helps get to me to where I'm going and provides a sense of where I'm headed and even rest areas along the way to stop …

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Tis the season

There’s something about Christmas. Like the song "Silver Bells" goes “strings of street lights, even stoplights, blink a bright red and green" and I find myself with a spring in my step and hopeful for the new year.  Yes, we're all too familiar with reality of the season. We've all experienced people bullying each other and fighting over parking …

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A special night: Through Mary’s eyes

Joseph and Mary faced incredible challenges to give birth to the baby Jesus. In celebrating this joyous time of the year and our search for that perfect gift for our friends and loved ones, we sometimes forget about those struggles. Here's a piece I wrote last year. I consider it my simple attempt to put …

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My difficult day: life & death up close

I’m not sure what put me over the edge. My first thought was two sad stories I saw on my local news on a terminally ill teenager and a woman fighting breast cancer. It could have been the realization that my children are getting older. They’re no longer little kids, running around the house. In a few …

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Who put me in charge of these kids?

My son placed his report card on the table underneath a pile of papers, routine, run-of-the-mill stuff that you find each day in your kid’s backpack. I think he hoped that the report card would skip our attention and disappear in a pile of minutia, never to be seen or discussed again. His disappearing magic …

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Lost in a world full of small talk

I’m awestruck by my wife. We’ll walk into a room together. It could be a room full of friends and family or full of strangers. I’ll go to hang up our coats, to the restroom, or simply turn my back for a minute and I’ll return to find her in the middle of a large …

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Stern parent to trusted mentor

When our daughter was young and regularly wore pink, she would sit at our dining room table, feet not even big enough to touch the ground, and I would sit at my make-believe throne. I would harangue my daughter to eat her breakfast, go to school, do her homework, clean her room, etc., etc. I would …

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A mother’s pain

When I saw the news last week right before Thanksgiving that six children were killed and many other seriously injured in a bus crash in Chattanooga, Tennessee, I immediately thought back to the mother I met a number of years ago who lost her daughter in a similar accident. I'm struck by the pain that such an accident causes. …

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