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Kay Griggs FULL Interview 1998

THE “W” IN CHRISTMAS

Morning Story and Dilbert

Morning Story and Dilbert Vintage Dilbert
December 16, 1994

Last December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations – extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six year old. For weeks, he’d been memorizing songs for his school’s “Winter Pageant.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there’d be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal…

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Too many people are confused about atheism…REALLY???

Culture Monk

did-you-really-say-that3

By Kenneth Justice

~ At coffee recently an evangelical acquaintance of mine went on a long tirade against atheists, “If you have a worldview that is absent of God then you have no morals; you are left with everyone doing whatever they want and mass chaos” he said

Twenty years ago I might have said the same thing. I used to believe quite vehemently that being a Christian was the only way to ensure a society of peace and tranquility. Then I actually started reading history and boy was I wrong, after all it was “Christian” America that went to war against the Native Americans, Mexico, and a whole host of other wars and battles that stain the history of our country. But it wasn’t even history that woke me up; it was merely living amongst other Christians and being on the other end of their unpleasantness that left me…

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How do you find stillness? We asked TED speakers—and want to hear from you too

With a Bow on Top

Beautiful Life with Cancer

Seven year old smile spread wide and missing teeth are exposed. She shakes with excitement, eyes wide open in wonder. Two little eager hands clutch a box, a wrapped box, a wrapped box with a tag, a tag with her pet name. She speaks a million words a minute, leaving the impossibility of the questions being answered:

Can I open it early?
Is it alive?
Will I like it?
Did I ask for it?
Have I seen it before?

So many many questions continue. I’m not sure she is even speaking to me, probably just her wondering mind. I know the contents inside. I know the hidden toy that is sure to bring a smile and hours of play. But I know the gift is so much more than that.

It is a memory. Innocence wrapped in a bow. Mommy – Maddie time that will be spent in play. It…

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HOLMBERG: Will professional cuddling catch on in the old Capital of the Confederacy?

Tulare Dust

The Me I Don’t Like, As Much (Redux)

Stories that Must Not Die

This post was originally shared on Brother Jon’s Page, nearly two years ago. It’s nice to go back every so often and reflect on how our lives have changed, even in just a span of two years. Things are getting better, everyday. I believe daily reflection is important for us all. In the past we can find many, many things for us to learn from. But, it is also important for us to not get stuck in the past. Author John Green once wrote* “Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.” Nostalgia, by definition, is a longing for the past. This quote turns it around and helps show the importance of looking forward in our lives. Or, you can just ask what Dory would do. Just Keep Swimming.


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Flash Movie Review: The Babadook

moviejoltz

Though I never had a nightlight, when I went from my crib to a bed I had to have the bedroom door opened a crack. It did not have to be opened wide, just enough to let a sliver of light cast a pathway for me if I needed to make a quick exit. You see there were times when I had to hide under my blanket because there was a bunch of birds or bats fighting to get through the bedroom window. I could see their shadows flapping against each other up on the far wall of the bedroom, opposite the window where a huge oak tree’s branches were reaching towards my room. The limbs looked like long arthritic arms shaking their fists of leaves at me. Sometimes there was an unusual sound; something I had never heard before. It sounded like the wooden floor was groaning from an…

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