Have you ever been driving along in your car, only to discover that the person driving in the car next to you is crying, or sobbing, or maybe even whaling?  It might have been me, or maybe it was you, that someone saw. Car crying is a different type of crying.  It brings a deep

Almost everyday I serve Jud a cereal concoction for breakfast.  I take steel cut oatmeal or 7 grain cereal and add flax seed oil, brewers’ yeast, kelp, and milk (I know what you’re all thinking—poor kid—well, yes—but he doesn’t know the difference—he’s had it since he was 10 months old).  Then I stir it up. 

I heard a story tonight.  It was told to illustrate a point.  In many ways it was simply a parenthetical thought, but after hearing it, I could think of nothing else. A woman at our church had gone to India to work with a parachurch organization that provides material goods to meet the specific needs

Drake and I didn’t find out the sex of our babies before they were born-I guess we just love surprises, and what better surprise could you have in life??!!  That being said, I was petrified of having a girl… There we were in the delivery room, awaiting the arrival of our second precious bundle.  (Gosh

I’m not usually a fan of greeting cards.  Sure, I can appreciate a card with uncommon wit & humor, but I generally find them to be sappy and lame.  I prefer to express things to people in my own words.  However, leave it to Trader Joes to publish a card that actually moved me with

This is an assignment I completed in 3rd grade about my future.  Was it foreshadowing??!!!? Thanks to my mom for saving this keepsake!!

I can think of nothing more destructive to contentment than comparison.  When I measure myself and my life experiences based on those of others, it breeds dissatisfaction.  It can lead to a longing and a striving that destroys the very fabric of what is beautiful-uniqueness, distinction, differences. Comparison is a cancer.  It is eating away

I am so put off by the way women are objectified in the media and marketing conglomerate of our culture.  However, what amazes me most is that women choose this for themselves (there are examples upon examples on MySpace).  Are you merely an object?  Are you simply the sum of all your physical parts?  Are