You Want Me to Change the World Where?

  “I just want to do something that makes a difference,” my daughter cried during a phone call with her this week. Work had been rough that day and the job seemed the wrong vehicle for world change. She felt trapped, ineffective, and hopeless. Why couldn’t she have a job that mattered? I feel for…

All Washed Up

When we pulled into the truck wash, a group of tattooed, bandana toting, life-lived-hard men descended on our truck and travel trailer. Brushes in hand, they worked vigorously, scrubbing every inch of its surface. Water sprayed, soapy bubbles cleaned, and the mud ran off. They made quick work of the dirty job. It’s good to…