Listening to: Sarah Maclachlan’s Afterglow. It’s about right where I’m at today.  I’m belting out the lyrics while I make the kids’ lunch.  Heartbreaking, humbling, hopeful.   Hope the neighbors don’t hear me.

Humble pie is hard to swallow.  Thank the good Lord that it goes down a little easier with a tall glass of grace.  And that it’s available by the pitcher, always sitting on the table, poured by Someone with great mercy for me.  Otherwise, I might choke.  I’m sitting at that table today, knock-kneed legs dangling from the chair.  Tie the napkin ’round my neck.