When Les and I got married, he was still a college student, working as the unglamorous “chicken boy” at a high-end meat store. I was working at Wanamaker’s department store as a mininum-wage saleswoman (probably salesgirl in those days—both age-wise and cultural-language-wise). We had no money. As we sped away for our honeymoon, I sat
I’m No Superstar
I’m No Superstar is a blog for people like me who want to make a difference in the world but know they aren’t activists. Each post contains a social action idea that most of us could do, a book that’s worth reading, or a link to a website that offers other ideas. Oh, and it’s all introduced by a sometimes quirky story from my life.
Confession: When I read, I get so wrapped up in the story, I forget the characters aren’t real. If at the point I need to stop reading and the characters aren’t doing so well, I find myself vaguely depressed without being sure why. I’ve actuallybegun to pray for a person only to remember she doesn’t exist
We’re headed into that fall season when the begging letters begin to show up in the mailbox, when the charity event invites roll into our inboxes and when our friends hope we’ll help them by buying their kids’ wrapping paper, their favorite charities’ fair-trade item or their own newly published books. And the guilt rises.
Discipleship Journal’s Online News e-mail came with an interesting article today, one on creating margins in your life (read it here, and subscribe to DJ’s newsletter: www.navpress.com/magazines/archives/article.aspx?id=16167). This is an issue I’ve wrestled with over the years, both from being too busy in years past, to where I am today—fighting feelings of guilt that I am