#GetHimZorro

Looking through the hundreds of tweets tonight, all with the hashtag #WhyIMarch. A few read… “This is what a feminist looks like. #WhyIMarch” “Feminist as F$#K. #WhyIMarch” “The Future is Feminist #WhyIMarch”  “Gay Power Women Power #WhyIMarch” “Today I am celebrating the anniversary of Roe v. Wade. This is why I march.” These tweets came…

I was still living in the home that once held our family of five.  Rooms were now completely empty, the living room bare and our bedroom was…well…void.  B and his kids had left. I would collapse at the smallest emotional trigger, a “train-wreck” as some people commonly refer to it. I shed tears daily, sometimes…

I don’t compete. Not really anyway. I mean…If I’m playing Catch Phrase or Heads Up, (or maybe basketball with a five year old), I will totally get into the game. I can yell and scream and cheer with the best of them. But I don’t really care if I lose. Maybe that is more what…

A couple years ago, when Wes was 5, he began to talk to me about salvation. He would randomly say, “Mom! I just asked Jesus in my heart!”  I’d follow up with, “Well, did you hear God speak to you?” He would always say no. He’d leave it at that and then go to sleep….