I was so excited when the confirmation letter came. A seat was reserved just for me. I was going to be seeing one of my spiritual super heroes, Anne Graham Lotz. At the time I registered for the event I didn’t even know what she was speaking about. All that had been posted on the website were the dates, location, and speaker. That was all I needed. Previous experience had taught me not to wait.
Within the first few steps out the back door of the inn, nature had my full attention. It was a stunningly gorgeous day. The sun was shining high above the forest floor, billowing, stark white clouds playfully breaking up the richest shade of sky blue. The remnants of the spectacular fall colors fell like giant snowflakes. My feet rustled the sea of leaves beneath them until I reached the gravel path and the sound of
The officer walked with purpose, sharply turning, marking out a random pattern on the lawn in front of his audience. His faithful canine partner kept pace with him, stride for stride, never leaving his side. A sharp right… three more paces… then a sharp left. The dog’s head was cocked sideways. He never once looked in the direction he was going. His eyes were locked and focused on his master. He trusted his master’s movements
This month, after more than 25 years, I officially retire from my beloved career in law enforcement. I thought it only appropriate that I republish this blog post that I wrote immediately after the terrorist attack that occurred in San Bernardino on December 2, 2015. On that horrific day, 14 precious lives were lost, 22 were seriously injured, and hundreds were significantly impacted by the evil actions of two individuals. One of the deputies who
Her voice was hard to miss. Lilting and sweet it cut through the bustle and din of the airport terminal like a cheerful, easy melody. I couldn’t help but overhear her as she spoke to someone on her cell phone. “Oh honey, you have been just so thoughtful and kind. The celebration was absolutely beautiful. I can’t begin to thank you enough for everything. I’m just so overwhelmed by how good you are to me.”
It was the end of my sophomore year in college and I was leaving the team. The basketball team that I had long admired, adored, venerated, and devoted my blood, sweat and tears to, was no longer going to be a daily part of my life. It had been a 6-year journey and I was empty. I’ll never forget the date, December 11, 1981. It was the first women’s college basketball game I had ever