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Where I’m At

Where I’m At

When I was growing up in Phoenix, every Good Friday during Lent between noon and 3 PM, my mom would turn off the television or any music we had playing so we could spend some quiet time in prayer.  We couldn’t play, or swim, or basically have any kind of kid fun during those hours. Me and my siblings always complained, of course.  “We’re bored,” we would say. “What are we supposed to do?” “Think about Jesus hanging on the cross,” she would reply matter of factly. “And go outside and pull weeds.  Or rake the...
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The Dry-Erase Board that Lives in My Bra

Kicking off my week away is a favorite here around MWOB and one killer writer, Kath.  She’s part of the larger rescue plan I have going on over here but she doesn’t know it yet.   All I know is every time I read her words, I want to jump through the computer or jump on a plane and go give her a huge hug.  I love this chick. Here’s Kath: This morning, I went for a nice, long run.  I started running for exercise a little over a year ago, which is completely ironic to me because I’ve always hated running. I played lots of sports as a kid and I...