Mamas and Boys

Four mamas, nine boys between us.  The oldest is fifteen, the smallest fiercely five, and we’ve been through it.  From infertility to a whole lot of surprising fertility, from spectrums and conditions to hand-wringing and tears.  We’ve seen the inside of a lot of hospitals and churches and counselors’ offices and McDonalds, laughed and snorted... Continue Reading →

That prayer is weak sauce.

Maybe you’ve prayed it, too —  Dear God, please don’t let my kid become an illiterate hobo.  Please don’t let me kill that woman, not today.  Please let most of the regulars show up this week.  Please don’t let us elect Hitler. Maybe it started out as a joke — she’d lose her head if... Continue Reading →

Stacking the odds.

"Best part?" he asks every night at supper. And the kids shout out, especially the happy ones, "Playing with Legos and building a Star Wars/Lord of the Rings/Velociraptor!" "Eating doughnuts for breakfast!" "Being here with you, Dad." That one makes a regular appearance, equal parts delightful and deliberate. But some days the kids are grouchy,... Continue Reading →

Tell it like it is.

They say pastors need soft hearts and thick skin. Don't we all? So you write a book, you put it out there, ay yay yay! Here come the critics. And you can stick your fingers in your ears and sing it out, "I can't hear you..." or you can take a deep breath, listen attentively,... Continue Reading →

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