Faith, Family, and the beauty of Everyday Grace

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the heart remembers
Debbie Prather Debbie Prather

the heart remembers

Words don’t suffice.

There aren’t enough that can express.

A and E, let my heart talk to yours.

You are so adored by your hard-working and fun-loving parents, grandparents, aunties, and uncles: Life will be a great adventure.

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Dear Younger Me
grief, Life Debbie Prather grief, Life Debbie Prather

Dear Younger Me

May 14, 1985 

Dad died in the hospital today. Why, why, why, why, why? Why wasn't I taken instead? Mom, Karen, and the boys could live fine without me. How will any of us survive without Dad?

June 9, 2023 

Dear Younger Me, 

These are such good questions.

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find their way
family Debbie Prather family Debbie Prather

find their way

"Just turn on the power and everything is all set. You don’t need to change a thing. I have it on the correct setting and volume."

"If it’s not turned on," she said, "he won't sleep and will be distracted by the children playing outside."

I was babysitting for my niece and nephews and followed my sister's instructions to a T.

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Choosing Joy During Uncertain Times
faith Debbie Prather faith Debbie Prather

Choosing Joy During Uncertain Times

She gave me a wry grin and shook her head.

"Is that getting old?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, but then her laughter told me she (sorta) liked my little comedy routine.

Now that my daughter, husband, and most of us are doing school and work at home, I say, "Drive safe!" and "See you tonight!"

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we've gotcha
Debbie Prather Debbie Prather

we've gotcha

The stout and stern, dark-haired judge scared the living heck out of us.

She fired one question after another, and the sweat beaded on Craig's head. The kind translator had warned us ahead of time not to look at herself but only at the judge when it was time for the translator to repeat the judge's questions, changing them from Russian to English.

"Why do you want to adopt this little girl?"

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ineffable
Debbie Prather Debbie Prather

ineffable

When I heard his feet hit the floor and his bedroom door open, I knew I didn’t have time to move or hide. I was caught.

"Hey!" he said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just looking for something I dropped earlier," I whispered (and lied).

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build a bridge
Debbie Prather Debbie Prather

build a bridge

Trying to wing the toast at my son’s wedding last May was a horrible idea.

Once I had the microphone and looked out at that lakefront ballroom full of cherished family and friends, I felt an uncomfortable lump forming in my throat. When I turned to address the bride and groom, the swelling moved up to my eyes and nose, releasing a fall of emotion that spilled over.

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a chain reaction
faith Debbie Prather faith Debbie Prather

a chain reaction

No sooner had the words come rushing out of my mouth that I saw a single, fat tear roll down her cheek. She looked at me with incredulous eyes, and my heart pounded.

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homesick at home
family Debbie Prather family Debbie Prather

homesick at home

I once read that you start saying goodbye to your child the moment you give birth.

Trusting another to watch them for an hour, their first crawl and first steps, the beginning of pre-school, start of kindergarten, first time sleeping away from home—on and on the goodbyes go.

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the affair
Debbie Prather Debbie Prather

the affair

I'm having an affair.  I should feel very, very guilty ... but I don't. He's a married father of three. I'm also married with three children. I happen to know his children very well.  In fact, I've known his wife my whole life. I am her, she is me. I'm having an affair with my husband.

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these kind of days
Debbie Prather Debbie Prather

these kind of days

I awoke to the alarm this morning at five thirty, heart pounding, with a list of things I must accomplish today running through my head.

First off, dentist appointment. Next, dress, gift, and grocery shopping before returning home to clean the bathroom. Then, send a card, finish emails, and make a meal to bring to a new mom.

My self-imposed agenda was growing by the second.

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Debbie Prather Debbie Prather

where it all began

It began in the spring of 1985.

Actually, let me back up. It began, specifically, at 12:30 a.m. on December 26, 1984—the first time Craig and I said "I love you" to one another.

I was a month over seventeen, a senior in high school, and Craig had just turned nineteen the week before, a college freshman home for Christmas break.

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