Sharing Stories of Everyday Freedom
(Names and details herein have been changed to protect identities.) I knew my cheeks were glowing as red as my teacher’s cherry-painted fingernails. Salty tears rolled over my lips and down my chin. While I cried, Miss Winter towered over me, lecturing and wagging a polished forefinger at my burning face. I wasn’t a troublemaker.... Continue Reading →
Dad's Music Hat My Dad has a black, velvet, cowboy hat. He reserves it for special occasions; specifically, he only wears it when playing the fiddle before an audience. When I was a child, I tagged along to many of Dad’s performances at weddings, anniversaries, and fundraisers. While Dad entertained onstage alongside his music buddies,... Continue Reading →
My heart belongs to the Rocky Mountains. They call to me, “Come home. Return home.” The mountains are my heritage – predestined by the Father, and set into motion by my parents more than fifty years ago… Mom and Dad were married in a white church, nestled inside a little town on the prairie –... Continue Reading →
I love advent! Every year, advent becomes more and more central to my heart's celebration of Christmas. But I haven't always felt this way. When I was a child, Christmas was: Pepsi, games, candy, mandarin oranges, presents, peanuts, gatherings, thrill, and excitement. I confess that I rolled my child-eyes in distaste at "fanatical" families who made the... Continue Reading →
