When Passion Feels Like Failure
Jill Richardson
I couldn’t explain the tug on my heart to work with refugees and immigrants. I just knew it was there, under the surface, staying
I couldn’t explain the tug on my heart to work with refugees and immigrants. I just knew it was there, under the surface, staying
Do you remember being little and playing too long in the bathtub to the point where your skin would start to wrinkle? My mama
Reality slaps me in the face on occasion. OK, daily. The reality of my situation is that a genetic disease took up residency in
Eleven years ago, my hips and ribcage framed a small home for a baby to grow. But also alive in my cells were currents