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My country girlfriend braved Chicago traffic last week. Because her husband’s cancer is still there, still growing. He’s barely 40 and his first brain surgery was ten years ago, before their youngest could even walk. So off they drove to the big city to determine if he qualified for an experimental new treatment. But 48…
I am Patrick, a sinner, the most unlearned [rustic] and least of all the faithful and utterly despised by many. —Saint Patrick, Confession One Sometimes I feel less-than. When I do, it’s often because I’m painfully conscious of how uncultured I am, keenly aware of my rusticitas. Like Saint Patrick was. Cousins and friends have earned Ph.D.’s and my…
These Long, Hard-Pressed Days I didn’t come into Advent knowing it would squish me like Flat Stanley. This of all weeks, I thought it would come easy. I didn’t know I would have to take joy. My workload has been heavier than any month is the past 20 years. I turned off the lights at…
You cannot be profoundly influenced by what you do not know. Let’s talk about influence. Dr. Pepper seltzer, Tim Hawkins, the ragged copy of My Utmost in her WC twenty years ago that led to one in mine; the elegance of Hedgehog and Goudge and countless other good books, whole cream in coffee, radish slices…
You see, if everyone is special, then no one is. -David McCullough, Jr., You Are Not Special and Other Encouragements, p. 308 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character. -Romans 5:3-4 I pounced the moment it hit my inbox. What self-respecting parent could resist this subject…
I don’t get it, Mom. Why did Aunt Danielle get Ella all those pretzel bites? Ella* was the only one who whined and cried on the drive and now she walks out with the pretzel bites. Just her—no one else. That does not seem right. I had to agree. As much as I talk about…