Articles

A Year Ago, I had an amazing opportunity to visit Burma (now called Myanmar). And while there, I was to teach a one-day watercolor class to children in an orphanage.

Earlier this spring, I heard about a Spiritual Activist Summit in Los Angeles for young people from ages 12-30. Since I live close by in Burbank, I figured I'd go, but honestly, I didn't expect to get much from it.

The Day Of Our Bike Ride Was Glorious —the sky clear and the surrounding hills bathed in golden afternoon light. The rocky area surrounding us looked as timeless and eternal as God.

I'D MADE IT. JUST CHOSEN AS A MIDDLE INFIELDER on a prestigious men's softball team in Vancouver, British Columbia.

When I retired in 1986, after almost 40 years in education, I decided, Now it's time for Jo. I get to do the things I want to do! My husband retired the same year I did.

When a person decides to go into the public practice of Christian Science healing, he or she is a messenger of freedom and love. The suggestion, whether it's internal or comes from someone else, that it is too early or too late to go into the public practice is really just a false resistance to the Christ—to the healing message that frees humanity from sin, sickness, and death.

The conventional shape of good career—basic education, entry-level jobs to get experience, advanced education or training, accomplishment rising to a peak, and eventual retirement—is not the only choice we have. The problem with that scenario is that if we get off track along the way, we may never get the training we need or we might miss important opportunities for progress in our field.

Time—ever elusive, always nipping at our heels—can sometimes feel like an arrow shot from the moment we appear on earth, carrying us straight through our lives, continually diminishing our energy and opportunities as it seeks its vanishing point somewhere on the horizon called old age. Let's defy that scenario.

When a dear friend passed on a couple of years ago,  I felt a big void in my life. One day when I had something to share with her—but couldn't—I realized how much I missed our conversations.

Many years ago I lived in a rural community, filled with Amish farmhouses. Amish horse-drawn carriages (behind which I occasionally became trapped if driving somewhere) served as a quiet reminder to slow down and acknowledge the heavenly Father's presence and His simple, timeless care for me.