Dealing with Challenge

She knew that her mother was unlike other mothers. She knew that something had happened to her, but she was never exactly sure what had happened. Her past was divided into “The War” and “Before The War,” never talking about either...

I realized that fear can be used for growth. Here are three fears that help us instead of stopping us in our tracks . . .

“You are the most despicable, disgraceful and rude person! I think you need to change your attitude, and I wish you luck!” And then she hung up the phone...

If a person has something of great value but doesn’t realize it, it is as if he does not really own it. In order to acquire something of value, it is first necessary to appreciate its true worth...

The last few days have been a constant stream of neighbors, friends, clients, whomever, coming in for breakfast, dinner, to work ‘remotely’, or just to recharge their battery-literally and figuratively...

I have written about the accident cursorily and somewhat lightly...but my religious identity has pursued me—or I it—throughout this ordeal, and I have a desire to write about some of the more complex aspects of the accident and recovery as an observant Jew...

Being in the hospital can be lonely and depressing, but this 16-year-old girl took the opportunity to bring light and joy to others...

My father did reach out to me a number of times. I, however, could not bring myself to answer his messages. I was afraid that somehow he would rob me of the peace and happiness I had found, and reawaken old and painful memories...

My stomach fell; my heart skipped beats. My throat had a lump in it, and tears were about to burst forth on my cheeks. I was exhausted, worn out and drained. We have no one to call, no one to turn to...

I tapped into a part of myself that’s generally under wraps. Mummified, really. This part of me, in case you’re wondering, is my integrity. My authenticity. Not that I’ve been living a lie, but I haven’t been so honest with the world, not even with myself . . .

I wanted my father to cocoon me, like he did when I was ten years old. Isn’t that what fathers are supposed to do? Shield their little girls and keep them away from fear?

I was thirteen years old when my life with the Tanners began. It was a cold day in January in the year 1985 when I stood clutching my meager belongings on the concrete stoop of the Tanner family’s residence . . .

Things were going well in my life. Oh, there were a few bumps ahead but I had enough experience and, hopefully, faith to know that they could be overcome. I definitely wasn't ready for allegations of verbal abuse, harassment and being the cause of a nervous breakdown...

Keeping the connection is what helped me overcome and recover from a tragic childhood that was filled with misery, pain and constant struggle. Thank you G‑d for helping me overcome this challenge: the dreadful storms of childhood neglect and abandonment...

I spent twenty years of my life wishing he were “normal.” Imagining. Yearning. Wondering about ordinary things like—what would he be like? What would he look like? Would we get along, and what would we have in common?

A close friend of mine has been fighting breast cancer for nearly five years. It seems like her cancer is winning the battle...

I don't want to pass the pain on to my kids. I want them to have love and closeness with me and with others. But I see that as much as my revealed love for them is in the home, my hidden hatred of myself creates a stinging bubble around me that fills the house when I hit bottom...

I know it’s a childish and irrational projection, but that’s how I sum up my heavenly Father – the One up there who has no malice towards me, but is certainly not dependable, who will lure me into a false sense of security, if I let Him, but then will pull the rug out and disappear in the middle of the night...

She says that she is running on empty. She says that there is vast, useless space inside of her. She looks the same on the outside. But things are subtly falling apart. She is bored literally to tears even though her schedule is full. She can’t find meaning despite the rituals and beliefs that frame her days. She doesn’t want to do anything, but she does everything anyway. She can’t figure out where she went wrong when she was playing by all the rules . . .