“A cheerful heart is good medicine.” ~Proverbs 17:22 NIV When my mother arrived at the hospital for my birth, she was accompanied by her mother because my father was miles away finishing seminary. (Please note, seminary.) My grandmother—whom I suspect was none too happy my father was, in her mind, AWOL—was so discombobulated that she…
My husband and I aren’t what anyone would call cooks, so our recent decision to make soups for ourselves was a proud moment. We’re up to taco, chicken and rice, potato, and vegetable beef. This is progress. I think our adult children wish we would have tried harder in the kitchen while they were growing…
The ophthalmologist’s assistant had performed all the preliminary procedures and tests—the drops in my eyes, the “put your chin here” in front of that mammoth whatever-it-is machine, the instrument on my numb eyeballs, and probably some other procedures I have since gratefully forgotten. But she hadn’t hinted at the coming shock. My doctor casually walked…
My friend Libby and I were playing in my backyard sandbox. We were five years old, and I was drooling over the change of clothes she’d brought for her doll. I wanted that stunning, store-bought outfit for my own doll more than anything. Libby was no fool, however; she required a trade, and the only…
My father was a pastor, and when I was five years old he was leading a church in a small Indiana town. The place had one stoplight, which was eventually removed because it was unnecessary. That’s small. My maternal grandmother lived with us, caring for my younger brother and me so my mother could teach…
My father was the pastor of a church of several hundred people when I was in my early teens, and my parents, brother, and I lived in a parsonage next door to the church building. One advantage to that provision was our each being free to leave for Sunday programming and services at will, rather…