My 4-year-old son Noah has discovered how functional his pants are. He can, for instance, jam Legos into the pockets as he darts out to school in the morning. He can shove even larger things down his pant legs. I noticed Noah’s revelation after a recent trip
Read more →When my first child was born, I was unqualified for the job. If there were a test, I would’ve failed. Knowing my ineptitude, doctors and nurses would’ve snatched Noah and shooed me out of the hospital. A hormonal haze clouded me into thinking I did fail. What
Read more →My son turns 4 years old today. So do I. Noah’s birth was my rebirth. I awakened to the glorious, to the awful. To the sweeping power of a God who saves, redeems, loves. For awhile I mourned the death of my old self. Had life gone
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