This newest book I’m writing is doing a great job of kicking my butt. And because it asks me to dig deeply, I’m still marveling at how much I’m also learning. I don’t necessarily recommend you find yourself in the same space I am even though you might also have decided you want to learn more about yourself and . . . well, life. I’m convinced there must be easier ways to do this work, but it seems I’ve found what works for me. Weaving the changes and losses of my own life through and around the courageous experiences of others to help me understand the possibilities of grace beyond grief has been the work of the sacred. Difficult? Oh yes, but well worth it. Right now, the collection of perso
As I sit down to write it has only been twenty-four hours since it happened. My daughter was hit by a drunk driver. And I was unavailable. These two facts knotted together as one horror and struck me like a lightning bolt. Before I gave myself the moments needed to calmly be present, to think about and process my actual reality, I fell back into another time when I worried about her safety every minute of every day because she was the only child I had left. I was blithely unaware, enjoying time with friends without my phone close, so I didn’t even hear her first call. It was about an hour later before we finally connected and I heard her say those words: “I was hit by a drunk driver.” My wor
