By Marianne Wood Santi Yurrita serves as our Missions Minister at The Well. I ran into him one Sunday morning last year, and like many who knew about our recent loss, he suggested a book to read. But the title is somewhat disturbing. “You’re recommending a book with despair in the title to a grieving mother? Seriously?” That is not

By Marianne Wood About a year ago, on my way home from Philadelphia bearing a freshly broken wrist encased in a huge splint, I sat down at a bar in the wrong terminal. The menu had attracted me, not the hope of wine or spirits, but the truth I found in this experience is worth telling: God sees us. He

By Marianne Wood I learned to sail on Lytle Lake and later Lake Brownwood as a teen. I’m not good at it, though my husband has the knack. He recently used a practical sailing term, “coming about,” to describe our pivot in life due to a great loss. His comment got me thinking about “abouts.” “About that time Caesar Augustus

By Marianne Wood Perhaps you need a Dammit Doll. I discovered that I did one day while at an appointment with my daughter about one year ago. The doll provides good therapy. On visiting a new physical therapist who turned out to be a-mazing, my daughter and I noticed a brightly-colored stuffed figure at the reception desk. Boldly emblazoned on

By Marianne Wood Someday I hope to write more about growing up with Dick and Jane in the 1960s and ’70s. Aren’t they characters in a young readers’ series back in the “duck and cover” age? Why, yes, they are. Our mother taught primary-age children, so my siblings are aptly named. She also studied French and naturally liked one of

By MARIANNE WOOD Sometimes, you must admit out loud or at least in a private journal, saying what you don’t like and do like. It’s cathartic. I’m going public with one of mine. I’m not too fond of flocked wallpaper. Invented initially to imitate expensive cut velvet hangings, flock wallpaper (or “flocked” as we say in Texas) gives me the