It's funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty b...
I'll live as well, as deeply, as madly as I can--until I die.
...and then I remembered this basic religious principle that God isn't there to take away our suffering or our pain but to fill it with his or her presence...
It's so awful, attacking your child. It's the worse thing I know, to shout loudly at this 50 lb. being with his huge trusting brown eyes. It's like bitch-slapping E.T.
