Palm Sunday’s Hidden Surprise
For my kids, Easter baskets always came a week early—on Palm Sunday. My mother-in-law sewed adorable outfits, matched them with sweet fancy hats, and brought
For my kids, Easter baskets always came a week early—on Palm Sunday. My mother-in-law sewed adorable outfits, matched them with sweet fancy hats, and brought
Ugghh! The draft. Not the football one. Or the one that sends young men to war. But the written one that sits for days, weeks,
Cisco Cotto said it one morning on Moody Radio Chicago: “What if we showed as much patience at home as we do fishing?” I’ll admit,
I met him once. Rev. Billy Graham. It was a Monday night. A friend and I were on our way to Art Survey 101, and
I wanted to be her Valentine. A wonderful group of college peers had pulled together enough cash to let me fly home to see her.
Okay, if you’ve been following my saga, you know today isn’t really “Day 1.” That was actually 18 months ago. Before my sprained ankle, before
I don’t know that I’d ever heard the song before that particular morning. Leastwise, I hadn’t REALLY heard it, where it penetrated not only my
Can’t believe I did it—again. For a person who loves to see words flow across the page, I sure get tripped up by the ones
The goal was romantic. What I didn’t take into account were injuries. I guess I figured I’d be hurting. After all, I hate the sport.
Subscribe for a free pdf copy of my award-winning narrative poem, Always Lovingly.
PLUS, you’ll get notices directly to your inbox so you’ll never miss new posts or stories!
Like what you’re reading here?
Why not share it?
Like what you’re reading here? Why not share it?