Thinking about my daughter’s stillbirth forty years ago is bringing back lots of memories and I am compelled to post another blog today and then I’ll move on, I promise. As I wrote in ‘Dead End,’ Hannah’s brief life and death taught me:  God’s grace is always sufficient for the bitter parts of this life … Continue reading Dead End/Hannah’s Story, cont. →

I agree with Philip Yancey when he wrote about “the inherent arrogance of the writing act.” Each time I post a story, I feel a bit unsure and egotistical. Like Yancey said, “I presume the right to cause you to put down whatever you are doing and listen to me.” Whatever he writes is totally … Continue reading Dead End →

I remember years ago when I realized how much of my job as a mother was ‘watching.’ “MOM!  Look!  Watch me!” My children had a way of repeating that -- LOUDLY -- until my eyes fixed on them, watching them dance or somersault or whatever. Last week Jake and I were in Spain with all … Continue reading Watching →