Our parents write the opening chapters. We spend the rest of our lives discovering that we are the author of everything that comes after. I spent the past couple of days with my family. Although I talk to my mother on the phone several times each week, I only see my parents a few times a year because they live more than three hours away. My mother is a remarkably strong and resilient woman. She was 17 when I was born and she went on to graduate from Emory as a registered nurs

Tonight I watched my beautiful niece marry the man she loves. Their ceremony, officiated by the groom's father, was traditional, filled with Scripture, prayers, and reminders that marriage is more than a celebration. It is a covenant. A promise. A decision made over and over again, especially on the days when it isn't easy. There were passages about commitment. About forgiveness. About sacrifice. About a husband leading and protecting his family. About a wife honoring and tru

For a long time, I looked at my life as if it were a rough draft. There were chapters I wished I could rewrite. Relationships that ended differently than I had hoped. Mistakes I replayed. Lessons I seemed determined to learn more than once. Seasons that, if given the chance, I might have quietly deleted altogether. But lately I’ve begun wondering… What if none of it needs editing? What if every awkward conversation, every broken heart, every frightening diagnosis, every wrong

Some of the most powerful things we can do for our health will never come in a prescription bottle. They won’t require expensive equipment. They won’t demand extraordinary talent. Instead, they arrive quietly. A warm cup of tea. A walk around the neighborhood. A few moments of meditation or prayer before the day begins. Reading a chapter of a favorite book. Watering the herbs growing on the patio. Writing down three things that made us smile today. For years, I think many of