We stood speechless as we scrolled through the images that she had sent without captions. Utter misery inflicted on desperate people at our Southern border. How in God’s name are we allowing this?
What we practice becomes part of who we are.
This morning, I started writing sitting on a seawall where my young son was fishing. Computer out, glasses on, skin tan, and my hair a
Recently, my older son wrote a story that he has entered in a contest. He is a good writer and the story has a strong
Thanksgiving Last spring I stopped writing. There was both too much and too little to say in a season so rich with disappointment. Grant application
On this trip to Shanghai, my husband was the main event. He was teaching at the law school and it was great fun to have