Wednesday, February 05, 2014


It was Thanksgiving, 1980.  I had a three-year-old and a six-week-old baby; and for some strange reason, I volunteered to host Thanksgiving for my husband's family.  Sleep deprived as I was, I don't remember stuffing the turkey.  I don't remember making the pies. However, I do remember going to the library to find a prayer to read before we ate.

I went to the library to find a prayer to read.

That still seems bizarre to me almost 34 years later. How could I not know that I could use my own words to talk to God.