ARTICLES BY COLLEEN CHAO
I’ll never forget Miss Moss, with her Coke-bottle glasses and a disability that left her slow and kind. She loved writing notes of encouragement even though her handwriting was chicken-scratchy and sloped down the page. And Earl Roland. He was a hunched old man who loved
When my son was only a few months old, I had a mother-of-four walk by me and say, “Oh, I remember the days of only one child. Enjoy it—you have it so easy!” She was right, you know. Mothering one child is enjoyable, and it
Her message left me shaken. She said if we had just 30 minutes together, she could get things off her chest; she was angry and needed to tell me the specific ways I’d hurt her. We’d had this same conversation a couple of years before,
This Sunday, you will not be far from my thoughts, dear one. With every fiber of your being you long to be a mom. You were made for motherhood, and everything within you cries out against your barrenness. I remember. I was 35 when I
He stole through the church doors, long, lanky, and strong of stench. His bony limbs were swallowed in oversized tweed, his hair a matted mess of gray, fingernails long and filthy. His face was gaunt, eyes expressionless. “Homeless” would have been a generous term for
Years ago, God gave me a simple mental image that helped me persevere through long years of singleness. I pictured a treasure chest where my tears were stored and turned into eternal reward. By imagining each tear of anguish counting for eternity (see Psalm 126:5),
I’ll never forget Miss Moss, with her Coke-bottle glasses and a disability that left her
When my son was only a few months old, I had a mother-of-four walk by
Her message left me shaken. She said if we had just 30 minutes together, she
This Sunday, you will not be far from my thoughts, dear one. With every fiber
He stole through the church doors, long, lanky, and strong of stench. His bony limbs
Years ago, God gave me a simple mental image that helped me persevere through long
