Reading the Book Instead of Writing the Book

Reading the Book Instead of Writing the Book

Reading the Book Instead of Writing the Book

Mrs. Van Horn’s second-grade class was the right place to dream. I felt safe in her classroom, even though Craig Assenmacher, who sat behind me, told me it looked like I had a bird’s nest on my head after I got a risky haircut. (I received a bob and discovered I was...
“You just don’t get it”

“You just don’t get it”

I let a friend down. Or, I should say: I let *another friend* down. I can tell she’s mad, not yet hurt. Just mad. I receive her frustration with me, and my mind instinctively flashes to that old friend of a phrase: you just don’t get it. … I’m late. I ran a red light,...
Is it time to bury the dream?

Is it time to bury the dream?

(This might be an email to earmark and tuck away for the future, as this isn’t for everyone. Some of you are in the dream-forming years … as you need to be.) Is it time to bury the dream? Ouch. Nearly every set of eyes reading this sentence is connected to a heart...

Rather than press through and push harder, what if you …

A few instances in the past week left me feeling especially vulnerable: Disclosing some hard things to a friend, receiving pained words from a child, a new unknown surfacing in our future. Enough of these in a short period have me paying attention to how I respond to...
When You Find Yourself In Winter

When You Find Yourself In Winter

A tree doesn’t survive the winter without healthy roots. Neither do we. I remember that bleak February morning when my husband and I loaded up our car and drove through the stripped-bare forests of the Blue Ridge Mountains to move into my parents’ basement. Everything...
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