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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...

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...

How To Keep Your Heart Alive

How To Keep Your Heart Alive

At sixteen it all seemed so obvious. You either had a cross around your neck and a Bible in your locker, or a drink in your hand on the weekends. Back then, it was follow Jesus or party. My best friend and I slid each other Bible verses on scraps of paper in between...

The Illusion of Fame

The Illusion of Fame

My sister was on homecoming court two years in a row. For many, that means nothing, but when you grow up in middle America (where the best of life happens under the Friday night lights), homecoming court makes celebrities out of seventeen year-olds. I was in the...

Hidden {… but not unseen}

Hidden {… but not unseen}

Sometimes you need to live a moment three, or four ... or seven times, before you see that it's purposed. We were 23 minutes late for the party that was only planned to last for two hours. I know, because I counted each minute that passed and had eyes only for the...