Why are we here? Even as a writer, I so often find that words fail me. They fail to express the swarm of emotions that swirl around us in the ebbs and flows of this life. If you’ve been following us on social media, you’ve no doubt heard of the passing of my Grandpa Larson.
I am here. Despite the plague having hit our house hard over the last week and a half, I am here. I may be buried under no less than nineteen loads of dirty towels, sheets, pajamas, and pillowcases… but I am here. And you know what? While I wasn’t here, but rather swimming in the
What to say. Oh, what to say. More often than not, my words fail me (hence the need to type them out once my brain has had a chance to connect with my tongue). A few months back, my husband took the pulpit to preach to our small, faithful congregation that meets each Sunday morning