Author: Emily Chase

    When our son John was a boy, he had a special pillow called his “comfy pillow.” He took it to bed each night and fell asleep with his arms wrapped around it. He hugged it while he sat in the family room and watched TV. Very soon the pillow became a dirty gray …

      One summer, our friend Tom created raised beds for my backyard garden. It was a dirty and time-consuming task. He had to remove the stubborn weeds and pull back the sod. He dug deep and removed stones from the soil. He built a sturdy frame of wood. He carted in loads of …

    This past year began with the death of seven of our friends. Every week we attending another funeral. Some of the services were joyful ones. The person had lived a long life and served Jesus. In other cases, however, the person was young – one was still in his teens – and had …

    When our children were small, a young woman came to live in our home. The woman, severely depressed, had made multiple attempts to end her own life. Her arms were covered with scars where she had cut herself. My husband and I offered counsel to our guest during this period, but our children …

    The classroom was in chaos. Students refused to sit at their desks. They laughed and threw paper wads across the room. The substitute teacher tried in vain to call them to order, but the students made a mockery of academics. When her efforts had no effect, the teacher called the main office. Minutes …

      Despite the convenience of all the new electronic gadgets like Kindles and Nooks for downloading E-books, I still prefer the tactile sensation of holding a real book in my hands. I love turning the pages, smelling the binding, and hefting the weight of the volume in my hand. And I experience special …

  Most people who know me well realize I love to swim. I love the freedom of movement that is possible in the water. I can do flip turns in a way I could never do on land. But I also enjoy the physical sensations of jumping into the cool water, then feeling it flow …

    One hot summer day, my husband Gene and I took our oldest son and daughter to a local street festival. Prisca sat in the stroller, securely strapped in, but Tim was walking on his own. Almost 20,000 people had gathered for the event. We were pushing our way through the throngs of people …

  When our daughter Prisca was dedicated as an infant at our church, she freely expressed her distress at being held by anyone other than her mother. Her wails, growing louder by the moment, soon filled the sanctuary and flustered the pastor. Anxious to move through the prayer of dedication, in his haste, our pastor …

    Yesterday I dandled a friend’s baby on my lap. What a sweet lump of flesh! Despite drooling and clumsy efforts to hold a toy, he charmed all in sight. What a contrast to a night or two earlier. That night I lay awake in the wee hours of the morning while my son …