Eight hundred forks and knives clank ceramic plates in attempted quiet. Over scrambled eggs and pastries we meet police detectives, city council members, and prostitutes who were trafficked as minors.  We hear stories from a Frogtown St. Paul girl who is propositioned on her way to and from school each day, waiting for the bus.…

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It’s twenty-three degrees and tiny snowflakes lodge in clumps of brittle grass and into corners of the deck.  The email comes of Grandpa Joe’s death, and we all pause. Stomping up the downstairs’ kids in our odd intercom-manner, they tramp up the steps, and I read it aloud. They listen quietly, soberly, then smile in…

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He surprised me. I wrote him a note, tracing across my journal page that I was eager to learn from him. “God, talk to me through your word today, please.” We were interrupted by supper and elections, but picked up our conversation this morning. Opening my journal, I saw my scrawled note to God and…

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“You’re teaching Daniel Bible verses!” she exclaimed in excitement. I grinned and shifted into fourth gear, the Saturn humming. On our way to the dentist, Morgan sat shotgun beside me, and Daniel recited “Psalm four eight, Psalm four eight” in the car-seat behind us.  “Yeah, I’m trying to learn more verses, and I’m excited to…

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Orange flames wobble behind ghoulish grins.  My black ninja son has morphed into “a villain from the New Testament – you know, the ones that make the Good Samaritan necessary, Mom?” he grins mischievously, as he straps on two silver swords.  John is heading to church with his dad. The youth group teens will work…

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