Dear Friends,

This has been an extraordinary day in the history of American finance. I can't begin to understand it all, but I know that many are worried about the future tonight. I think it's all made even more distressing when we consider that so much of this current tumult is a result of greed and poor judgment on the part of people who have been entrusted with other people's money and, therefore, with other people's dreams. It can be very frightening when we feel betrayed by people and institutions that we trust. I imagine more that a few of us will go to bed tonight wondering what on earth is going to happen tomorrow. And the day the day after that. And the day after that....

The night before St. Patrick's Day my six year-old asked, "do we get presents tomorrow?" I shook my head and said no, it's not that kind of holiday.

But then I started thinking and I realized that St. Patrick's Day is something quite unique and worth celebrating as a kind of gift in itself. It's the only day I can think of where we all adopt a culture as our own for a day. Folks of every color and heritage are wearing green today.

I am finally emerging from the fog of antibiotics and cough syrup. Just about everyone I know has been fighting the flu or bronchitis or pneumonia this month. And they all say the same thing: "I just can't seem to get over it."

It's been awhile since I felt well enough to sit at the computer and try to write something with even a "touch" of encouragement. I had plenty of ideas but not enough energy to do much about them. And one by one, those great ideas would float away. But one thought has persisted, the idea that we just don't give ourselves time anymore to heal. We don't allow our bodies the time they need to rest and recover. We don't allow our hearts the time we need to mend and overcome loss and pain.

Dear Friends,

This was a difficult week for me; it was the anniversary of my father's death and it is always an emotional time. Seventeen years have passed and yet, as so many of you understand, a song, a photograph, an old letter can still bring back the crushing pain and the seemingly unbearable loss. For a moment, it all creates that familiar, terrible hole in one's heart that we spend so much time trying not to look into. And if we aren't careful, we can fall into that hole again and get lost in doubt and heartbreak. That's what I struggled with this week and it was hard to get back to the computer, to you and to my work. I prayed for peace, for reassurance, for meaning. And then I waited on the Lord.

My answer came as soon as I sat back down at my desk and opened up this website.