Always a Full Moon

The moon hangs stubbornly in its space several hours after the dawn. It is nearly full, I notice. It gets me thinking — during my morning drive — about the waxing and waning. And the way the moon looks different depending on the day. And then I remember. The moon…

Why a Manger? (the part of the Christmas story I missed for 40 years)

Sugar-free for 63 days, and I have reached the bargaining stage of my grieving its loss. Creeping as close as I can to its boundary. Nibbling the edges of sobriety by wondering if allowing myself the crumbs of something sweet would send me back to Day 1. Wanting my cake.…