Little Drops

Sometimes I feel so small. Like nothing we could ever do could make any difference. Like we’re just a tiny little drop trying to change the color of the ocean. And even if we make the biggest splash possible for a little drop, not much actually changes. But my heart was lifted today. We met a bunch of other little drops the same color as us, all marching along valiantly. We’re not alone. And even if we only change the color of a handful of drops, those drops will go out and keep up the fight, even after the original … Continue reading Little Drops

RAD and Adoption (My closest friend can’t attach)

So my best friend was diagnosed with RAD as a kid. He was adopted from Russia at 6, didn’t bond with his family, and went to a children’s home at 10. Some years later, I met him and we accidentally became best friends.¬†Somebody cautioned me about him because of his RAD diagnosis and I laughed in their face. We are¬†extremely attached to each other. There is¬†a mutual loyalty I’ve never had with anyone. When we were young, I told him about things only God had heard, things I would NEVER tell anyone else. He was my closest friend, my only … Continue reading RAD and Adoption (My closest friend can’t attach)

Expecting Death? Have a Broken Bone Instead!

“It just wasn’t what I was expecting! I wanted to see The Hobbit, not Lord of the Rings revised by a dumb writer!” I was really excited for the first “Hobbit” movie. My expectations were high, along with every other Lord of the Rings fan. But when I left the theater, I wanted to start a picket line against it. I HATED it with a vengeance. THIS IS NOT THE HOBBIT!!! I WANT THE REAL THING!!! After my rant lowered his expectations, one of my friends went to see it (out of obligation). He was okay with it. He was … Continue reading Expecting Death? Have a Broken Bone Instead!

Control (Valentin’s Story, Part II)

He knew life could be easier. He knew if he let her go, it would be easier. She could have a better life. But the thought tore at his heart. She was the only one he had left. She was a part of him. So he ran. He carried her. He cared for her, in sickness and in health. He used his wits. He kept them alive. Even when it was cold. He woke her up. He watched her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes silently and looked blearily out onto the alley. She wasn’t looking at anything … Continue reading Control (Valentin’s Story, Part II)