What if God is Not Perfect?, by Jacqueline DeSelms-Wolfe, MEd

What if God is Not Perfect?, by Jacqueline DeSelms-Wolfe, MEd

I have a teacher that always tells me to wait. She tells me that waiting is the space that allows for the receiving and the giving of love.

It’s easy to wait when things are good. It’s easy to do when the sun is shining. It is easy to do when the house is clean and the kids are at the grandparents. It’s easy to do when life feels perfect. When life is running smoothly, my heart is open, waiting and saying “bring on the love.”

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Forgiveness, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

Forgiveness, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

“Forgiveness is nothing less than the way we heal the world".

   -- Desmond Tutu, The Book of Forgiveness 

I was a terrible oldest sister.
 
In our dysfunctional family filled with addiction and anger, yet held together in intense love and loyalty, I raged and cried and felt isolated.

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It Was Me All Along, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

It Was Me All Along, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

I was backpacking alone in Utah, carrying a huge pack on my skinny hips that looked like raw meat.  I felt invincible, capable, with every step validating that there is nothing I can’t do. I loved it! That was many years ago.

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Ma Is Dying, by Guest Blogger David J Saffold

Ma Is Dying, by Guest Blogger David J Saffold

Tuesday, Crying Again!

This morning I found my eighty-four-year-old mother sleeping with her legs hanging off one side of the bed.  She has gotten much weaker and can't pull her legs up onto the bed anymore.  She could last week, why not this week?  She cries out in pain as I pull her to sitting position - I have to hold her back so she doesn't fall back on the bed.  Everything with her is a chore - hard labor!  I flinch when her pain makes her cry out.  Her hip muscle has stretched from lying like that all night.  I finally get her to her recliner and get some Tylenol down her throat.  “Ouch, ouch, ouch, everything hurts” is the song she is constantly singing.  I beg her to eat something but can only convince her to drink a little vitamin drink.  So I sit down on the couch and my eyes well up with tears.  I have a great urge to cry just like I cried yesterday morning.  I don't know what to do and nobody else knows either.  I am helpless and don't like being helpless - so I cry.  I guess I am not the tough-guy I like to think I am.

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