“I can’t believe how awful I was. I keep imagining his sweet little face looking at me like that. How could I have yelled at him with such anger?” I put my head in my hands, sobbing. Overwhelmed by emotion, I imagined my oldest son, my firstborn baby, looking wide-eyed at me, wondering who this …
Staring blankly ahead at cabinets that need a thorough cleaning, I pour caffeinated coffee into a small mug. Bringing the steaming mug to my lips, I read the verse on the inside of my coffee mug: “His mercies are new every morning.” I love that, I think. New morning, with the delicate sun tenderly painting …
