Goodbye for Now!

Hello Readers! (and goodbye for now)
This is my last blog post for a while as Shanty and I will be taking a sabbatical. Thank you for reading our words and helping us as we welcomed many guest writers to the blog. I’m leaving the site intact so visitors can peruse the contents, and who knows? Maybe I’ll start it back up someday. In the meantime … think happy thoughts!

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“You Too? I Thought I Was The Only One!” The Beauty of Sisterhood

by Jamie Lapeyrolerie
Recently I was skyping with my best friends and started talking about a show I was watching on Netflix. Confession: At first I wouldn’t mention the show name because it’s so cheesy, I’m not the intended audience, and it’s a bit embarrassing that I’m so hooked on the show. But what can I say? I can’t resist any sort of crime drama (that’s my one clue: detectives are involved). My friend asked me what show and so I came clean. She started laughing, saying that she had watched the show too. We all started laughing and I’m pretty sure we convinced our other friend to start watching it too. You’re welcome Netflix. Also, reason #18963 we’re best friends.

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Breast Cancer – Can Sickness Bring Blessing?

By Linda Buice   A few years ago I got the diagnosis that everyone dreads – you’ve got cancer. When the words were said I felt like a frozen statue. The doctor continued talking but I didn’t hear or comprehend much of what followed. Luckily, I wasn’t alone. My...

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The Possible and the Impossible – Healing after the Escape from a Polygamist Cult

By Anna LeBaron

I was standing at the sink washing dishes. Suddenly, a brown van screeched to a halt in the driveway of my house. Out jumped members of the “bad side” of my family carrying guns and assault rifles. They stormed into the house and, before I knew what was happening, sprayed the entire area with bullets. Shot in the stomach, I fell to the floor, face first. The shots hadn’t killed me, yet I knew if I got up, they would simply shoot me again. If I pretended I was dead, maybe they would leave me alone.

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Fluctuating Self-esteem and My Peculiar Addiction to the Myers-Briggs Personality Test

By Bethany Turner

Have you ever taken a Myers-Briggs personality test? (If not, the one at 16personalities.com is my personal favorite.) So, you know the thing with these tests. You answer a lot of questions about yourself and your preferences and tendencies, and how you handle certain situations. And if you answer honestly (and that means you answer as the person you are and not the person you wish you were), the results can be somewhat eye opening.

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But What Will The Other Moms Think?

By Heather L.L. Fitzgerald
“Mamma, can I have that?” As you select a half dozen pairs of jeans and head for the dressing room, Toddler asks this innocent question, pointing to a stuffed tiger discarded in a bin of scarves like a stray cat.
“Not today, honey.” You steer Toddler forward and smile at the fitting room attendant.
“But I want the tiger!” Toddler stops walking and gives you her best mistreated face.
Newborn stirs in car seat.
You level your mom-gaze on Toddler and will your voice to be firm but positive. “You have a lion at home. Right now, Mommy really needs to try these on.”
Toddler stomps herself into the dressing room. You close the door, lock it too hard causing Newborn to jump reflexively. With deft movements, you tap the pacifier back into her mouth, set the car seat down, hang up the jeans, and proceed to peel off your stretchy yoga pants.
“It’s not fair.” Toddler has face planted against the mirror.

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Some Grace For You, But Not For Me?

By Jami Amerine
She looked pale.
Worse than pale.
She was clammy, sweaty and a greenish-translucent-walking-dead hue. I barked, “Good grief! For someone so smart you are so dumb!” I know, harsh. However, I was tired of arguing with her. Our 15-year-old prodigy daughter (no really, she’s a genius, we don’t know what happened) was deathly ill and arguing with me about how she had 4 tests she couldn’t miss and a dance performance at the football game that night.

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When I Fail at Friendship

By Beth Vogt

I believe a girl needs her girlfriends.

When my husband and I were novice newlyweds, we moved across country from Maryland to California, thousands of miles from family and friends. When your husband’s in the military, you go to the assigned duty station – no arguing.

One night, homesickness and loneliness overwhelmed me. I stood in our tiny kitchen, crying, and said, “I want a friend.”

My husband’s reply? “I’ll be your friend.”

“No—” I choked back a sob. “—I mean a girlfriend.”

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