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I am sitting in the back row of the church service, observing the people with whom I have chosen to share a faith journey. We are a small but colorful group of people, diverse in most every way. We are old and young. Gay and straight. Nonbinary and cisgender. Black and white and trans.
I am sitting in the back row of the church service, observing the people with whom I have chosen to share a faith journey. We are a small but colorful group of people, diverse in most every way. We are old and young. Gay and straight. Nonbinary and cisgender. Black and white and trans.
I am on the phone with my sister Susie while driving to work. We are carefully choosing our words because she’s already done her makeup for the day and doesn’t want to cry. After 35 years behind the chair as a hairstylist, she is switching careers to become a care companion for the elderly,
I am on the phone with my sister Susie while driving to work. We are carefully choosing our words because she’s already done her makeup for the day and doesn’t want to cry. After 35 years behind the chair as a hairstylist, she is switching careers to become a care companion for the elderly,
There has been something niggling at me these past weeks, something sharp and slightly debilitating, like when you have a small shard of glass stuck in your foot and it sends a little shock wave through your whole body every fourteenth step, although you’ll be darned if you can find it. I’ve searched my