It was terrible: I knew exactly what he wanted, but couldn’t figure out a way to get it to him.
Normally, I’m not a fan of kitchens. It’s too much like work, and I’m not even getting paid.
But aren’t we all cathedrals of contradictions? Am I the only one: an almost blasphemous mix of holy and unholy, sinner and saint, secular and sacred, irrelevant and relevant?
The sonologist said he was “showing off,” so we knew beyond doubt that we’re having a son. He’s already an exhibitionist.
And as I looked around at the worshippers at my church, I realized one thing: we are family.
And it’s here that I realized a huge difference between practice and the game.
A friend and I were walking on the beach a few weekends ago, and she told me about her daily life as a medical resident. And she wondered where God was in it all.
But Sundays are a completely different matter. I need boundaries, don’t I?
Yesterday, I got a big dose of perspective. I didn’t know I needed the medicine, but it did start helping me heal.