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Why We Must Fight For Our Joy, Now, More Than Ever
Sunday evening before bed, my youngest daughter was talking through her upcoming freshman walk-through—an event offered to rising high schoolers to help them become more acquainted with their new school. As we conversed over the subject, she made a comment…
Trauma’s Song
Trauma. I am no stranger to its ways.
It comes without warning and takes hold playing me like a fiddle. It readies its bow and strikes the dissonant chords of an all-too familiar place.
Appreciating the Storms of Life
Last night it poured. The rain was unexpected, but in the heat of a Tennessee summer, it is always a welcomed sight. As the downpour trickled to a light summer shower…