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I lay the flat iron down next to the sink, and when I lean in close, I see the gray is creeping up again. I wonder if I should do something about it...
The space could easily be mistaken for an expansive art studio. The floors are old sleeper beams. The sash windows creak and need a stiff jolt to open. The red brick walls mixed...
Editor's Note: This month we're in a series exploring the joys and struggles of marriage, broaching the topic from multiple angles for the sake of helping, healing, and considering. He sits silent, nervously...
When I read our chapters for the book club this week, I couldn’t help reflecting back to when we first started reading The Social Animal: The Hidden Sources of Love, Character, and Achievement...
I'm not a child of divorce, but I have a half-brother and half-sister who are.
A dysfunctional workplace drama can only end badly, and that’s exactly what happened. Somehow, the people working for my boss had become a threat. Our work would have made any boss proud—innovative, game-changing...
“I can’t do this anymore!” he says through clenched teeth. His hands clutch the dark waves of hair now mixed with a hint of gray. I try swallowing the lump in my throat...
Editor's Note: For the month of February, we're launching a series exploring the joys and struggles of marriage, broaching the topic from multiple angles for the sake of helping, healing, and considering. I...
The memory of my suffering and homelessness is bitterness and poison. I can’t help but remember and am depressed. I call all this to mind— therefore, I will wait. Certainly the faithful love...
Hugh Atkinson is a third-grade teacher who loves his job. In his blog, Ramblings of a Third Grade Mind, he writes about...