by Laura Straub
Lent went. Those two words make up the shortest poem ever written; at least that's what we learned in elementary school in the '80s. I don't know whether that's true or not, but I do know that I don't want to be repeating those words regretfully at the end of Lent this year as I have in the past. So, what to do? What to do?

Rating: 4.0/5

by Laura Straub
I am the mother of an only child. This is not by choice. I spent many years grieving the death of my dream of having more children. I mourned this situation deeply and passionately not only for my own sake, but also for my child's sake and for the sake of my marriage.

Rating: 5.0/5

by Laura Straub
I'll take plain spoken common sense over rhetorical eloquence. I'll take rugged good looks over sartorial sensation. I'll take a simple pick-up truck over a souped up political machine.

Rating: 3.9/5

by Laura Straub
For a few weeks now God has been waking me up at 4 am or thereabouts. Because my back is aching from a recent car accident, I think God makes use of that pain to prod me awake at that hour. It is working; I end up praying then.

Rating: 4.0/5