My mom’s birthday would have been tomorrow. Her hair would still have been dark brown, almost black, but probably sprinkled with a few more silvery strands. These are years she should have seen, though I’m sure she observes still just from a different vantage point. I still see her in my son’s smile, an impish

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Our little miss is our messy one. It’s not that she intentionally tries to make messes, it’s that she moves from one thing to another quite quickly leaving behind a trail of disaster. Getting her to clean up her messes is equally tricky. She might pick up and put away an item or two, but

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Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits– who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

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