In this moment, Joseph had all the power. And he used it for God. God has given us power, too, to cope this week in ways that please him.

My friend gave me a word better than “lonely” to describe what both of us are feeling.

Perhaps his trip to Egypt was the world’s first “unchosen journey.”

First my wife and today my dad. I never would have expected these caregiving duties—or the blessings that came because of them.

“The evenings are long, and I can feel so lonely.” I realize I share his experience, but for a completely different reason.

The person you’re caring for has changed so much that you may have forgotten what attracted you to them the first time.

The caregiver cannot maintain his former life completely. But he cannot and should not give it all up. How does he find balance between the two extremes?

Abram’s life turned out as he never imagined it, just as ours has. But we can’t imagine what he may do with our submission to what he’s given us today.

Today I’m celebrating new fruit from a relationship that began many years ago.

Satan points us to our problems, but God comes beside us with comfort and provision and strength for each new step.

The story of how our life has changed, beginning with a senseless auto accident in 2014.

“There are two words we don’t honor enough. One is ‘over’ and the other is ‘next.’”

After what I’ll honestly call a very difficult year, I can say, I’m doing great. But the hope we celebrated at Christmas means more than ever.

“Oh what a foretaste of glory divine.” This year I’ll settle for the foretaste while nurturing hope for glory someday.

We’re glad to see her again, but I’ve decided I just can’t give Christmas all she may want from me. And that’s OK.

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” I’m trying, I’m really trying.

Through the decades, we stay the same, but our circumstances change. We approach life as we always have, even though life has become so different. Christmas is the perfect example of this.

I have lived a privileged life . . . even now. Especially now. That’s what I’m coming to realize.

Despite the difficulties in our days, here’s a gallery—just in time for Thanksgiving—to help me express a few ways I’m thankful.

“We ARE our memory,” a friend said to me. And this adds another layer of sadness—and resolve—as I watch my wife’s memory fade and falter.