“I used to be somebody.” Her words were faint, but I could hear the pain. Confronting her lost identity in prayer was her way of acknowledging the present and saying goodbye to the past. My heart ached for this beautiful woman of God whose perception of herself had...
The booming voice from the loudspeakers overpowered us. Common sense said it was a pre-recorded message, set to repeat as California travelers passed through, but for my husband and me, it was personal. We swore the stern tone in the message was chastisement for...
