No, I Do Not Have Grandchildren
For a Season
A Place for Us
The Truth I Thought I Wanted
Finding my biological father didn’t heal my past. It opened the door instead. For thirty-six years, nothing appeared to be amiss. A birth certificate held a name. That name belonged to a face. The face sat at holiday tables, appeared in family photographs, and answered to “Daddy” without
Seeing the Cracks
The place where I finally saw the wall. Not every story inside that wall belongs on these pages. There are too many of them. Some are painful. Some are ordinary. Many simply repeat the same lesson in different forms. After the day everything changed, the years rolled on, and the
Choosing Our Own Way
Learning to trust the life that was calling me. After graduating from college, I was almost immediately pulled back into the life I had begun trying to outgrow. My father offered me a position in his company at a salary far greater than anything I had found on my own.
When My Anchor Was Gone
Permission to search for God in my own way. When my grandmother died unexpectedly, the person who had anchored my world was suddenly gone. She had raised me, protected me, and loved me through years when so much of life felt uncertain. Her faith was woven into everything she did.
The Breakaway Begins
Sometimes leaving home is the first step toward finding yourself. My decision to go to college surprised everyone in my family. My father couldn't understand why I wanted to go. “What do you need college for?” he asked. My mother was living in a world of her own
The Hands That Held Me
God was working in ways I could not yet see. Let me tell you a little about my grandparents—my mother’s mother and father. Grandmother and Granddaddy were the safest place I knew as a child. They made my life bearable when so much else was uncertain. They could
The Day Things Changed
A continued reflection on That Wall… Some childhood memories soften around the edges as the years pass. Others never do. This is one of mine. It began on a Sunday. My younger sister and I were staying with our grandparents, as we often did after my parents divorced. Sundays were
The Girl In The Second Pew
Trying to belong. Every Sunday I went to church. If there was a service, a meeting, a choir rehearsal, or a youth activity, chances are I was there. My grandmother took us on Sunday mornings. My grandfather took us back on Sunday evenings. Between Sunday School, worship services, Girls’ Auxiliary,