I don’t remember ever saying “I hate you.” My parents discouraged those three words in our home and we tried to raise our children with the same mindset. Love the person. Hate the act. Now, there are things I dislike. Okay—hate, even. Things like… Processed cheese. Black licorice. Paisley prints. Cat puke. A dripping faucet. Price rollbacks that really aren’t. …
Hold the Hate, Pass the Love
Okay, I don’t know about you, but there are some weeks (like this one) that just leave me breathless. I shake my head. Heart-grieved. Stricken. Torn. Enough, already. Sometimes, I want to shout it. (But I don’t. Loud doesn’t necessarily mean brave. Think about it.) Sometimes, a different (notice I didn’t say softer or quieter—just different) approach—is called for. I’m …