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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?"
the true you
I sat poolside in this Mexican resort town and noticed a tingling clearness in my head and my breathing start to slow down and expand. It felt like a watch that had been ticking too fast, suddenly being reset to the correct tempo—an invisible rebooting of my soul.
I recently heard the soul described as the part of you that was there before you were born and the part of you that will live on after you die: The "true" you.
Choosing Kindness in a Cruel World
Seeing his arm, waving like a windshield wiper out of his enormous truck, woke me from my buoyant reverie.I was singing along to “Beautiful” by MercyMe, my daughter by my side, and admiring the bright sun, fall colors, and cornflower blue sky when we slowed to make a left.There was unending traffic coming from the other direction so as I waited to turn, I looked into my rearview mirror and noticed several cars backing up behind me. That’s when I spotted the truck driver with an infuriated face, making sure I saw his middle finger pointed high in the air, loud and proud.
our bodies, our vehicles
I drove my daughter to school today in our well-used, ocean mist Honda Odyssey van. It's rusted in a few spots; dented in the rear from our sons' driver education days; and smelly from transporting dogs and athletes, wet snow boots, skis, bathing suits, and God knows what else. That old van is worn out but reliable. Rusty but sturdy. Beat up but because I'm nostalgic, dare I say beautiful.