It sits there, in it's place, torturing me. I know I need to write. I know I need to confess. I leave it there with its accusing black sc

I have never seen anything like it.  I cannot reproduce it.  I have no idea why it happens here.  But it does.

How do we get through the fields and the forests of our problems? Journey together. That is how.

Anger when we are hurt is a normal reaction. Long standing mad, though, ends up hurting us more than our offenders.

As we open our doors, it is good to know that those of us who are here for you have had our own shattered hearts...