by Wendy Widder | Oct 25, 2022 | Memoir--Every Road, Pain, Wayside Stops (Reflections)
My new book is releasing November 1…just one week from today, but it’s available for preorder* NOW!). Below is an excerpt from chapter 9, “The Avalanche.” When another round of candidating for a teaching position came up empty, I gave up job...
by Wendy Widder | Jul 12, 2022 | Blessing, Pain
The Israelites had some mountaintop experiences in the colorful years after the exodus from Egyptian slavery. The midnight hustle out of Egypt, the crossing of the Red Sea, and the first morning of manna were all occasions for celebration. Surely one of the most...
by Wendy Widder | Apr 22, 2021 | Dad, Pain
We vacuum religiously at our house. Dusting is another story, but you wouldn’t know it from our shelf full of dusting supplies: fuzzy blue Norwex dusting mitts, a California Duster, cans of Endust and Pledge, a Swiffer duster, and a pile of rags big enough to suds the...
by Wendy Widder | Apr 4, 2020 | Dad, Pain, Tributes
It won’t be long now. We’re about to lose our dad for the second time. We lost him the first time on June 1, 2005. That morning as he prayed with my mom—as he did every morning before the day got going—he suffered a massive stroke that robbed him of a great deal...
by Wendy Widder | Feb 26, 2020 | Dad, Pain, Transitions
As I stared into the porcelain bowl of a hotel bathroom on Sunday night, I wanted two things. First, to stop puking, and second, to go home—in that order. A stomach bug when you’re an airplane trip away from home is magnified misery. Think TSA, crowds, and carry-on...
by Wendy Widder | Jan 3, 2020 | Christmas, Dad, Pain
It’s a mild January afternoon in Minnesota, but no one here is fooled. Daffodils and daisies, some of the earliest and cheeriest signs of spring, are months away. Plenty of subzero temperatures, sheets of ice, and piles of snow lay between here and that most wonderful...
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