A follow-up to my post on healing: sometimes it means admitting you’re wrong (aka “It’s the shoes, stupid!”)

In a previous post about healing, I wrote that it takes a partnership between ourselves and God to experience healing. It also requires admitting when you’re wrong. Case in point: my longstanding battle with sore feet, aching legs and a consistent backache. I started walking at lunchtime a couple of years ago, just after I

Opening my eyes to winter

I used to hate the winter. The cold (and the subsequent heavy clothes). The darkness. The snow. The ice. The silence. And how difficult it can be to get around. I used to hate winter. Until I read The Outermost House by Henry Beston. For now I will just elude to it because I am