I Can Do It Myself

By Jane Thornton 

“That’s just weird.”  My teenaged daughter scowls at a car when its driver honks at us.  We are walking in shorts and strappy shirts (soaking up some sun), headed to the Rec Center to work out.  “Maybe it’s someone we know.”  I try to catch a glimpse through the windshield as it passes.  “It was a guy, and I didn’t recognize the car.”  My mind flies to my husband’s admonition to be careful.  Although we live in Suburbia, USA, he gets anxious over our safety on the half-mile walk.  Yet, determined, we cling to our independence.  We offer reassurances:  it’s broad daylight; the street’s well-traveled, etc.  He concedes, we walk, and he worries.  I like being self-sufficient, and I want that trait in my daughter—but not to the point of foolishness.  I remember my pride, and frustration, as she reached age three.  Her typical claim:  “I can do it myself.”

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A Door Without Hinges

By Marty Norman 

A door is an interesting thing.  Everyone has them, everyone uses them.  A working definition, for purposes of this article is: an opening that allows a body to move between two places quickly.

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Doormats

By Khristy Hullett 

Jesus was not a doormat.  He cleansed the temple with a whip.  He mesmerized crowds of 5,000.  He debated and stood up to the Pharisees and Sadducees.  He endured inhuman pain and death.  He was a man in the best and truest sense of the word.

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Waiting

By Khristy Hullett 

Waiting stinks.  For all that we counsel our kids to be patient and reel it off as one of the fruits of the spirit, do you actually know any patient people?  People who truly don't mind waiting in traffic, waiting at the DPS, waiting in the school line, waiting to check out at Wal-Mart … ?  My patience-ometer is kind of schizophrenic.  It veers way up and way down with little warning, depending on how tired I am, how hot it is outside, and how much the kids are fighting.

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Batten Down the Hatches

By Jane Thornton 

"The British are coming! The British are coming!""Batten down the hatches!""All hands, man your battle stations!"Warnings which echo through the ages. A similar cry rings throughout my household once a month.

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