And the clouds prove it.

This summer my husband, Scott, and I have taken a profound interest in clouds. We’ve had the most stunning skies recently. Beautiful puffy, fluffy, billowy, white clouds or cottony swishes splashed across the sky that reflect brilliant sunbeams. And at dusk, the colors are magnificent. Magentas and yellows and pinks and blues. Breathtaking. Almost every evening, Scott and I walk outside, point to the sky, and ooh and aah. Like five-year-olds, we identify flying dragons and Irish Setters wearing party hats.

Petitioning for pain in order to reach a positive outcome

Two months ago, one of my friends made a formidable promise: "I'm going to be praying for you."

Usually, I'd welcome someone's offer to intercede on my behalf. But, after a brief conversation with this friend, I realized he'd be praying for ill. He'd asked several questions about my boyfriend's current spiritual state, and then, instead of offering to pray for my boyfriend's struggles with doubt to abate or for the health of our relationship to improve, my friend had implied he'd be praying for a breakup.

Olympics reflections both sappy and snappy—and a sneak peek at our interview with a gold medalist

I'm an Olympics junkie. So, as of last Friday night, I've officially become a couch potato. But it's for good causes: world peace, stunning displays of sportsmanship, and those wondrously sappy "Olympic moments."

I watched the opening ceremonies at my friend Melody's place. She and I munched on Chinese takeout, her cleverly appropriate dinner suggestion, while we oohed and aahed at the eerily smiley drum corps, the world's largest LED screen, the gorgeously embroidered costumes, those crazy green Christmas light people. And Lin Hao, the nine-year-old Chinese boy who survived the Sichuan earthquake and then rescued two of his classmates. He made us cry.

When I’m trapped in the vicious cycle of self-pity

My fingertips tapped impatiently on the armchair as I listened intently on my cell. A girlfriend had called, and, for the past several minutes, we'd chitchatted about family doings and my upcoming vacation.

Then, somehow, our conversation had taken a left turn toward an all-too-familiar destination: her divorce. The day before, she'd encountered one of her ex's acquaintances. "She told me he's not looking so hot," my girlfriend chortled. Then, "More of our friends are giving him the cold shoulder. That's what he gets for betraying me. Can you believe he's now shacking up with some trophy babe who could be his daughter?"