My childhood memories don't exist like scenes out of a movie. There are no conversations or storylines. Instead, they are emotions triggered through one of my senses. Molitor Dairy Barn The distinct sound of the milkhouse door slamming shut. The smell of the freshly cut alfalfa fields, a freshly laid cow pie, or the wormy smell of a gentle spring rain. The sight of our road, knowing with this last turn, I was almost home. The feel of warming my freezing hands between the leg and udder of...

Last night, my 2- week-old James and I attended our first ultimate frisbee match. Because our school doesn't have a team, my son was eligible to play for the diocesan Catholic High School, 40 minutes away. I love to watch my kids compete- little James and I were at a middle school track meet the night before. What I love almost as much as cheering on my kids is the sideline social hour. It fills my cup chit-chatting with the other parents and grandparents. In true Leah Brix fashion, while...

My Beloved Son, How I long to come to you. With each day that passes, my heart yearns to see your face and to embrace you in my arms like I did when you were young. Oh, my sweet child, I can still remember the fear and confusion I felt when I was on my knees, contemplating the promises spoken to Abraham and praying for the Promised One to come. 1 An angelic being startled me. Was I dreaming? So I tested this spirit by asking how it could be. His response assured me that he was from Heaven...