I tapped the red circle to end the call, slid the back door open, doubled over and bawled. Because after hard phone calls it makes sense to ugly cry into the grass. Chalk it up to a therapeutic watering I offered our droughty, California yard. My heart was racing from stingy words. I gave myself permission to cry and then asked myself, Where …
Truth and Becoming Original
Last April, Bryan and I were perusing a bookstore in sentimental San Luis Obispo, where I was drawn to The Beloved Works of C.S. Lewis . Blinded by the cover’s gold letters shining on ‘heaven’, it no doubt hit a close-to-home topic those days.