Go to the Funeral

  “There was a funeral at school today.” I don’t suppose that’s something you often hear, but that was how my youngest son answered a recent “How was school?” query. Usually, since he’s sixteen, his response is mundane, often a little cynical. Why describe the school day...
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From Another Mother

     Thinking of you living under the same sky, and on the same earth as me, I miss you. I do not know what I should say, or how I should say it. Even though I am ashamed of myself, I want to be called your mother . . . When I had to send you away at the hospital, I...
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Standing Tall, Feeling Small

  I’ve been fingerprinted several times, from our international adoption to TSA Pre-Check. There’s nothing like it for making me feel clumsy—my hands are not my own as someone else rolls my fingers this way and that—or for making me feel like a criminal when I’ve done...
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Go to the Funeral

  “There was a funeral at school today.” I don’t suppose that’s something you often hear, but that was how my youngest son answered a recent “How was school?” query. Usually, since he’s sixteen, his response is mundane, often a little cynical. Why describe the school day...
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A Tale of Two Villages

As we drove through the beachfront resort community, our guide pointed out all the homes of famous people. These were second (and third) residences that belonged to people who lived elsewhere most of the time. Gesturing to one of them, he told us a little about the famous movie...
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Annie: Great-grandmother by Love (not Blood)

Annie Frances McCampbell was born in 1897 on Christmas Day. She hated having a Christmas birthday. As a child, I recall being shocked to hear an elderly woman complain that having her birthday on Christmas meant she got only one annual gift instead of two. Somehow, hearing an...
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Standing Tall, Feeling Small

I’ve been fingerprinted several times, from our international adoption to TSA Pre-Check. There’s nothing like it for making me feel clumsy—my hands are not my own as someone else rolls my fingers this way and that—or for making me feel like a criminal when I’ve done nothing...
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Seeing in Color

  A well-meaning friend recently told me that she does not “see color.” By which she meant she did not take note of the color of someone’s skin, but instead, she insisted, looked people in the eye. It is a noble sentiment, and one I used to espouse before I became the mother...
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The Banners We Raise

State endorsement of Christianity (or any religion) is naturally temporary. Trends come and go, and with them all forms of tolerance—or intolerance. Yet Christians today seem to take comfort in perceiving ourselves to be in (secular) power; we should not.
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The Names We Give

  I have taught in schools, seminaries, and churches all my adult life. My first job was as babysitter to my cousins, followed by nursery attendant at my church. My first job after college was teaching pre-school, where I was assigned immediately to the beleaguered...
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