Family

No parent or caregiver wants to get a call from the school principal’s office. Last year, I got that call. “I have your son here in the office with me,” said a school administrator, adding, “There was bullying on the playground.” She relayed the offenses, which...

Every Advent, mom would drag the yule log out of storage and place it on the kitchen table. She’d made the dusty birch centerpiece herself, complete with greenery and holes to anchor the Advent candles. Although I can no longer remember if we lit one or all the...

“Will God and Jesus ever die?” “When will Jesus come back to earth?”  “Why did God make flowers?” “Is everyone in heaven a grown-up?” “Why can’t people come back from heaven?” Eight years ago, I opened a Word document to record the questions my kids asked me about God...

I recently returned from a remote village in rural northwest Alaska. I’d been attending a regional Lutheran conference there. The highlight—aside from hours of singing gospel hymns and participating in business meetings—was visiting people in their homes and accepting...

A while back, one of my children was struggling with some behaviors that I thought might indicate a mental health issue. It created a challenging situation at home; it upset our daily life. I didn’t know where to turn. First, I talked to his elementary school teacher....

By Lisa A. Smith “Who knew that the hardest part of being an adult was figuring out what to cook for dinner every single night of your life until you die?” asks a popular social media meme. As a parent, I feel this deep in my bones, especially after I’ve chopped,...

By Erin Strybis— When I think of home, I imagine my childhood bedroom. With sky blue walls and matching sheer curtains, it was my oasis. As a shy, introverted child, I relished my alone time. Sometimes I’d lie on my queen bed and pretend the pastel ceiling was a...

By Elise Seyfried I AM NO STRANGER TO SACRED SPACES. For 20 years I worked at a church where, several times each week, I’d leave my office, slip into the sanctuary, and sit in welcome, peaceful silence for a few minutes. On frantic Sundays, I had a hard time feeling...

by Jennifer M. Ginn A mom living, and dying, with purpose MY MOTHER WAS ALWAYS on the way somewhere, her heels clicking briskly across the church parking lot or her Daniel Green slippers clomping on hardwood floors toward the kitchen. She moved with purpose you could...