I’m alone in a way that will never be remedied. And I’m still coming to terms with that.

Sometimes there's great gain in asking ourselves, "What specifically do we need from God?" and then telling him what we decided!

52 years . . . and I almost forgot!

David stayed true to the commitment he and Jonathan had made to each other, long after Jonathan was gone. What can we learn from such an example of faithfulness?

Sometimes memories from 20 years ago make us sad. Sometimes they do something more. That’s what happened for us this week.

“I told Siri I was lonely, and she apologized. So that was nice.” But when it comes to caregivers and friendship, we all need better than ‘nice.’

These are not new thoughts to me. But now I find they’re guiding me in ways I wouldn’t have imagined.

The giant David faced reminds us of the giant looming large in our lives: Ugly, strong, and inspiring fear. Will God help us fight this battle, too?

We’re glad she seems generally healthy. But sometimes we grow weary with figuring out the diseases daily damaging her brain.

All of us know the problem with a wrong choice. And every caregiver is beset with the challenges of making many choices. Maybe that’s why we resonate with the story of Samuel’s difficult task to choose the future king.

How is this moment preparing me for the opportunities to come? What will they be, and will I be ready? While dealing with today, I do well to think about tomorrow.

Which part of Nehemiah’s pattern would you do well to imitate first?

I can tell you exactly what it meant for me to have Covid. Evelyn suffered, too, but we could only guess at how she felt.

In Jonah’s words of distress from the pit of his suffering, we can find help for our own prayers today.

“Writing is an act of ego.” I’ll agree. But as readers write in response to these posts, I see how writing can be about so much more than the writer.

Elijah had given his all, but still his problems kept coming. It was a situation different from—but also similar to—what caregivers sometimes face.

Finally! I have quit talking about a task I was dreading. I’m struck by how I never anticipated I would do this.

Most caregivers sooner or later will admit something close to what Solomon said to God: “I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.” All caregivers do well to repeat what Solomon sought from God next.

Rather than deny my advance (or is it slide?) toward 80, I’ve decided to pause and take stock of what I’m learning about life from this crossroads.

We can imagine the words meant more to the disciples that day than ever before. They had likely never felt less at peace.