For some of us, the more mature we become, the more we are able to see the perfection of our mother's love. But our mom was out of the ordinary. Not just because she was ours, but because she overcame all the odds against her.
We will not come into our own authentic power as grace-filled human beings until we first are able to give ourselves to others. Perhaps, we would not have to live through such great tragedies if we opened our hearts with love the way God intended.
I want best friend who will tell me I need one more pair of shoes and a man who will remind me to save for my retirement account. And I want to get into bed at night with a man who ignites things in me no one else can.
When Sarah Palin commented, at this last week's national National Rifle Association convention, "...waterboarding is how we baptize terrorists," she did worse than offend, worse than degrade human beings, worse than stir up a group of weapon-advocates. She did so in the Name of God.
There was no bar mitzvah, no ceremony where a rabbi and temple congregants congratulated him, no family and friends invited from far and wide. I am sad about this and, yet, here we are, a couple days away from the sleepover and paintball party that will mark my son's coming of age.
Mastering the precious commodity of time is not as much about the organization of time, but rather, it's much more powerfully about the attitude you hold about yourself and how this attitude affects every happening in your life.
I was a troublemaker in Sunday school. No, not because I was passing notes (though they were passed, discreetly). I was a troublemaker because I did the worst thing a young Southern Baptist born and raised girl can do: I asked questions. The big questions.
The recently released film Noah likewise is a call to all viewers to tread gently on the earth and to treat our environment with care, raising a moral parallel between the flood and the continuing onslaught of climate change on our earth.
Children, women and a scattering of men, who have endured unspeakable violence and anguish, loss and horror, agony -- biblical in force and nature -- and have responded with unbounded love. Redemption. Resurrection. Faith. I leave Haiti with these gifts in abundance.
I wondered how I could be certain I wanted to be a Catholic when I didn't know anything about other religions. I recalled my mother telling me that I should always read the fine print before signing up for things.
Hope is never more needed than on the Saturdays we face. Something has gone. Something has died. Something or someone that once filled a great place within has left us just as empty as we were once full, just as lonely as we were once befriended, just as uncertain as we once were so sure.
Leaning in for closer review, Sadie and I both catch a slight body quiver, but our excitement dissipates as we realize its leg is broken. The two of us make a grim, silent eye pact to do what we can to save it, or at least make it more comfortable dying.
Some years ago, during a visit to Jerusalem, I went to visit the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, reputed to be on the place of Jesus' tomb. I was rather underwhelmed, and wondered where Jesus really was amid all of the tourists and souvenirs.
Because of you, I am beginning again to believe in miracles. Because in the depth of despair over losing your beloved son you took me into your arms and guided me back onto a track where love is real, positive thinking is a choice that saves us, and miracles do happen.
Why am I writing this? As a single mother, raising two black young men and surrounded by the death of so many young men, I am constantly in search of positive influences that will inspire them, motivate them and keep them on the right path.