It was a big day in the Dudley household. My sixteen-year-old passed the written driving test to get his learner’s permit. Shortly after, I handed over the wheel and was out on the road with him, traversing through neighborhoods. Handing over the controls isn’t an easy task. My right foot pumped an invisible break, and my grip tightened on the door handle. Somehow, I maintained a calm voice, “you’re doing well, now break… break… break harder.”

Waiting can be painful.This year has been full of long, agonizing waiting. Waiting for schools to open, see family and friends, travel or vacation, a job position to open, and relief from bills or payments that have started to pile up. We’re told to hang tight for another 2 to 4 weeks, but the waiting has begun to feel endless.

Ever feel bombarded by small battles? Multiple gauntlets are thrown down, issuing one challenge after another. We seek satisfaction, running around picking up gloves, accepting challenges, and dueling in match after match until exhausted and spread too thin.

Sometimes you don’t know whether to cry or laugh. Back when all three of my boys were under the age of five, I had come down with an infection and overnight started running a fever. I didn’t realize how bad I felt until I laid down in front of the fire to close my eyes for a second...

I’m writing this before the final day of the election. I don’t know if the next president will be determined by the time this blog is posted or f the new president will be announced by the end of the week, the next month, or next year. What I do know is...

I’m unqualified for my life. I don’t have a degree in creative writing, but I write books. I majored in psychology so that I wouldn’t have to do math, and go figure, I do bookkeeping and accounting for my husband’s businesses. I don’t believe there is a degree that could teach everything a mom needs to know to raise children, but I’m in the middle of raising three teenaged boys anyway. I don't know what I'm doing. Fortunately, God does.

As as author, I love to play the what-if game. What if the heroine gets robbed, thrown in the poorhouse, or falls overboard. As a mother and wife, the what-if game isn't as much fun...

Don't abort the mission. You may have to re-strategize, change tactics, or reprioritize, but keep your eye on the goal. I left this message for a friend before he proposed to another friend of mine over the weekend. He’d elaborately worked out a scheme to ask her to marry him at the top of a mountain where the view is spectacular, but the climb isn’t for the faint of heart.

Our newly remodeled four-bedroom rental unit had to be stripped to bare studs. The apartment could have appeared on the tv show hoarders. As landlords, my husband and I became leery when...

The speedometer read 40 miles per hour. I sat white-knuckled behind the wheel, flying through the empty school parking lot, my heart pumping faster than a techno dance beat.

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing,” said Greek philosopher Socrates. We can think we are so smart, but our brains are easily fooled.

I love a good rescue. In most romance novels, after the darkest moment, when all looks lost, some heroism allows for a happily-ever-after. Sometimes it’s the hero swooping in and sacrificing something to save the heroine, sometimes it’s the heroine relinquishing her goal in order to protect the hero, or it could be both. Often it takes this black moment for them to realize they aren’t strong enough, smart enough, or brave enough to endure on their own, and that’s when...

I won’t drive with my husband in the car and haven’t done so the entire time we’ve been married. He’s a great man, but he backseat-drives

Sometimes I wonder if fiction mirrors life or if life mirrors fiction. Currently, I’m in the process of plotting book number five...

I was Zoom caller 219 out of 428, not even a blip on the screen.

We have a neighbor who spits at us.

I used to cringe when the phone rang. There was a time in my life when I was called down to my son’s school daily...

The average person will spend five years waiting in line and an additional six months waiting on stoplights. How do we reclaim our waiting time? How do we turn our stalled moments, especially during a pandemic, into preparing?

It’s never a good time to be inconvenienced, but often it's worth it. I can’t tell you how many nights I’d be exhausted and looking forward to getting the kids in bed so I could slump down on the couch and veg.

We can have the best mattress, a pillow that puts us in the proper alignment, and sheets made out of cotton from Giza, but if there’s unrest in our thoughts, then we won’t sleep well.