Time and a Woman’s Highest Calling

When she was through, her chubby hands and face giving her smallness away were covered with a gooey chocolate layer. She’d just eaten an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie, still soft and warm from the oven, in that distinct way toddlers do, not caring about proper protocol or mess-factor. Miraculously, her golden curls were spared…

Goodbye Guilt. Hello Grace.

Writing about work is something I have avoided. Like poison ivy. Or a certain detrimental food allergy. Talking about it makes me itchy and uncomfortable. Like a wiggly child with scratchy tights, I find myself shifting my weight from side in side when discussing this part of my life with…