Write letters to your grandmother. She will love it. And leave you money in her will.

Raw pain alarms. us. It reminds us that life isn't as orderly as we'd hoped. We demand that pain settle down before we shuffle it off to the quiet table. We want pain to stay in its own little section, want to keep it from spilling over into the other parts of life. Just like . lunch trays. Keep pain in its own little compartment.

Too many times we pray for ease, but that's a prayer seldom met. What we need to do is pray for roots that reach deep into the Eternal, so when the rains fall and the winds blow, we won't be swept asunder.

We just never know. We think we do. We think we have life figured out, and in our arrogance we become hard. But life has a way of humbling us, of softening us.

Write letters to your grandmother. She will love it. And leave you money in her will.

There are things we see with our eyes, sitting high and looking out. And there are things we see with our hearts, sitting still and looking in.

When love takes you by the hand and leaves you better, that is home. That's the place to stake your claim and build your life.