Years ago when Larry and I lost our first baby to a miscarriage, I had some of the worst experiences with attempts to comfort gone awry. People said things that compounded the pain, rather than helping. A lady in the church walked up behind me at the altar, put an arm around me to pray and before she did said, “Honey, just count your blessings. The baby was probably retarded…” (No, I am not kidding! She really said that.) Another lady in the church said, “Well, look on the bright side…you’ll have more kids eventually.”
This blog focuses on life at the intersection of family, leadership and faith. On my day off, I live in my pajamas or ride my bicycle, though usually not at the same time.