Words That Heal

| This is the 262nd story of Our Life Logs | Trace all our sketches, all our etches in time, some hold all our reasons, some only a rhyme. —“untitled” by John Stalter I was raised through the ’90s in Midwestern Minnesota by parents born in the ’60s, two upstanding, conservative Christians who worked their way into a larger piece of the pie thanks to their … Continue reading Words That Heal