A friend once described the vacations my wife and I take to rural Indiana as “homey.” That is an apt description. Life slows down dramatically, and we get much-needed rest. If you are stressed out or suffering from insomnia, read on.
One recent vacation highlight was daily watching a groundhog venture out to forage for food. The chubby rodent had burrowed under a storage shed behind my father-in-law’s house.
My wife and I just returned from two restful weeks in rural Indiana. For the first time in years, we made the trip by air, flying out of the Destin-Fort Walton Beach airport.
On our departure day, the airline sent a notice encouraging us to arrive 2.5 hours early. Not a problem, we were packed and ready, and our ride picked us up on schedule.
As I write this, my wife and I are preparing to leave for Indiana for a two-week vacation visiting family.
Our goal is to eat lots of vine-ripened tomatoes and sweet corn, and at least one pork tenderloin sandwich.
I was in the first grade at Sacred Heart Catholic school when Sister Eileen read to us from Exodus 16, “The Israelites called the food manna. It was white like coriander seed, and it tasted like honey wafers.”
I didn’t hear anything else she read or said. In my little kid-brain I was scurrying around the wilderness gathering up this mysterious candy God had provided.
The condominium collapse in Surfside was profoundly tragic. Daily news updates only confirmed our worst fears. Hope seemed so very elusive, yet stories of hope did emerge.
The Associated Press ran a story about a 12-year-old girl, who had come to the collapse site because her father and her uncle were residents of that building and had yet to be found.
Recently, I did something that I had purposed I would never do – I engaged a social media post that was obviously intended only to incite.
A friend posted a meme claiming that 56% of conservative Christians reacted in laughable ignorance to a statement that employed a generic word close in spelling to one which was sure to elicit a negative reaction from them.
It is interesting how habits creep their way in and out of our lives.
When I arrived in Navarre late in 2018, it was my habit to work out four to five days a week.
Helen Keller wrote, “I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man with no feet.”
Blind for most of her life, Keller’s fame as an author and human rights activist shows that she chose not to wallow in self-pity. I must confess, I have wallowed in the past, only recently in fact.
It is a fact of life that not everything is as it appears; expectations are often dashed by disappointment.
What sparked this cheery thought? I had carefully studied a small basket of apples in my kitchen to select a perfect orb of crunchy deliciousness.
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