Boys to Men

I’d just made my thirty-eight-year-old son a dental appointment to examine his freshly broken tooth. But instead of thanking me, he frowned the same way he’d done in childhood if I “helped” without his permission. Now, as then, he huffed, “I’m a big boy. I should call them myself.” I tried not to look hurt. […]

Neighborly Love

Neighborly Love

After George Floyd died, I had the urge to dash across the street and hug my neighbor Phyllis long and hard. She’s Black, tall, regal-looking and we’re both Christ-followers. My arms longed to embrace one of only a handful of persons of color in my lily-white neighborhood. I wanted to tell Phyllis that I stood […]

The JUST Drawer

The JUST Drawer

Despite the sunshine, the morning was late-winter crisp. As a friend and I ventured out for a walk, I poured out my heart. “All three of my sons are messes.” I pulled my woolen scarf higher around my neck. “And not one of them is willing to change. It’s like Russian roulette—do I wait for […]

Waiting for Morning

The original title of the book I wanted to write about my journey with three grown sons who are addicted to drugs and/or alcohol was IF MORNING EVER COMES. That if is important. If reflects my decades of praying, hoping, enabling, toughing, failing and flailing, all while desperately trying to keep hope alive. I’ve been […]