She sat on the bed, the anger still slowly simmering like a pot of hot water that had just overflowed. We started talking about the root of the frustration that had brought us both to this place.
Sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if I were as willing to repent as God is to forgive. I’ve been known to carry the weight of conviction around with me a lot longer than I should.
Their story has captivated me the last few weeks. As a dad I can’t even fathom the idea of my son stuck deep in a flooded cave with his teammates and coach, days of wondering if he was even alive.
"Promise you'll never leave me. " It's a question that's probably been asked a million times. I know I've asked it. And it has been asked of me. In sweet moments of love we may have made that promise.
As she blew out those candles I couldn’t help but think about the countless nights and long days we spent wishing, waiting, praying for her to finally come home. Just a few years ago we were still separated by 9,000 miles and even more miles of red tape keeping us from being a family united.
The tradition of the arrow started when my first born daughters graduated from High School and continued through this weekend when my youngest walked across the stage to receive his diploma. Letting go is hard for parents. For our children's whole lives it's our responsibility to protect them, guide them, and nurture them.
I’ve always been an expert at foreboding joy. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Seeing the glass as half empty. Cynicism. When you live from a place of fear it makes it hard to trust people. Makes it hard to trust God too.
"You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours," was a phrase I heard often growing up. It set the tone for how I would approach life; if you help me, I'll help you. It was meant to encourage us to do things for others that they couldn't do for themselves, but there were strings attached.
Jones street is a breath-taking neighborhood filled beautiful homes, but none of those structures compare to the beauty of the canopy created by tress that have lines those streets for decades. I can imagine that even on the hottest July day, that canopy provides protection from the worst of a Savannah summer.
I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I never have been, but working in a flower shop solidified my lack of love for the day. I tend to push back against things that are cheesy or contrived, and Valentine’s Day has always felt that way to me.