When the trailer for a movie makes you cry, you know you’re in trouble.
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cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
When the trailer for a movie makes you cry, you know you’re in trouble.
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“No!! Please don’t leave me here with these people I don’t know!” I begged desperately for my husband not to leave.
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Our yes’s and no’s define us. They’re the choices we make to pursue or stop the cause of what we find permissible.
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“Seriously? Again? Now?!” I frequently hear myself exclaiming these words in exasperation and despair.
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“Hello, my name is Robert”, spoke a tall statured middle aged man. I paused and reciprocated the greeting with the exchange of my name, and we discussed a bit about our professions.
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It was a hello unlike any other in my life except one, the birth of my daughter. This one was the entrance into the world of her first child.
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My friend called me after reading my last Red Tent Living Post. He is not just any friend, he is my friend whom I trust and love as a brother.
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When a person experiences trauma, parts of the heart feel ripped loose, shattered, and blotted out.
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“To Matthew, from Santa.” “Here!” His little boy face lit up with excitement, he reaches eagerly for the present his dad holds out.
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It’s a dull brown, caked with rust, and the points are sharp enough to wound. That’s a good description of the barbed wire I’ve created within to frame some of the stories in my memory.
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