More than a decade ago I was involved in a prison ministry called Kairos. A team of us would prepare for months to go into Lakin Correctional Center for three and half days for an intense spiritual weekend which included singing, talks, good food, and thousands of dozens of cookies. Our motto was “Listen, Listen, Love, Love” and our main purpose was to share love by allowing each woman to be truly heard. One of the most important aspects of the weekend was time with our “table families”. Each table family consisted of three volunteers and six inmates and we spent the time sharing our stories with each other, our frustrations, our disappointments, our joys, our regrets, our heartaches. Peo
Yesterday I spent most of the day working on a tax issue for my business. I had tried for a week to resolve this issue over the phone and through email and finally decided to drive down to the tax office. I showed up unannounced at the wrong building. They kindly sent me to another one. I walked all over downtown Charleston in the stifling humidity looking for the office to no avail. When I finally asked someone to help me find it, they pointed to a building right in front of me. You know those days, those days when you do a lot of sighing and shaking your head, that’s the kind of day it was. I won’t even describe what happened once I went inside. Let’s just say it wasn’t good news, bu
Many years ago I bought a couple versions of The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook. I learned how to stop a runaway camel, how to escape from quicksand, and how to deliver a baby in a taxicab. I read that you should fight during a shark attack, play dead if you encounter a bear, and make yourself look big for a mountain lion. And I wondered how in the world I was supposed to remember all of this in my time of crisis? Instead of feeling empowered with all of this helpful information, I felt vulnerable and small, just more proof that the world is a scary place and I need to brace myself for the next bad thing. It seemed that in order to stay safe, I needed to live in a state of anxiety
How can you be utterly heartbroken and overwhelmingly full of gratitude at the same time? It seems impossible. But this is how so many West Virginians from my home state feel right now after the recent devastating flooding. Many people lost their homes, everything they owned, and not just replaceable items like refrigerators and couches, but handmade Christmas ornaments their children made in second grade and scrapbooks full of memories and their grandmother’s wedding band and so much more. Some lost their loved ones, their beloved pets. The heartbreak they feel is almost unbearable. And yet many of these people are the same ones overwhelmed with gratitude. But why? And how? How could
