That day, in the warm sun, surrounded by the solid proof of an ancient realm, I let go of forming theories. I only know that, given enough time, this wound would scar over. The layers of my life will slowly cover and fill the gulf cleft through my heart. But deep in the bedrock of who I am is a record of these things I will carry with me, a new map whose boundaries have forever altered the way I view the world.

We learned last year in biology that the cells in our bodies are completely replaced by new ones every seven years.

I want to tell her that I don’t think a book from the Bronze Age is a good enough reason to relegate women to the role of “helpers” for all time.

What bothered me most was how Will didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why I was upset that he was telling these girls they don’t measure up. He acts like he has some natural right to tell them they should look a certain way. Why? Because he’s a dude?” “It’s.

Given enough time, everything changes.

What about me?” I choke. “Do you owe me something? I was just as wasted as she was. Why do I get driven home and kept safe but not her? Why not just leave me to Dooney and Deacon and the boys in the basement?

Given enough time, everything changes. Maybe this sense of how fragile our connections are is what makes us obsessed with saving them – writing them down, taking pictures, recording them in tweets, documenting them with status updates and videos. It is clear to me now that when the earth does move beneath our feet – when our hearts slam and scrape and break apart – when we barely survive the flood, we take precautions. We.

You’re doing the right thing,” she says. “Doesn’t feel like it.” I wipe my eyes. I am so tired of crying. She nods, reading back over her list and flipping to a new page in her steno pad. “Sometimes, that’s how you know,” she says without looking up. “That’s how you know.

Tri-City students are encouraged to go to college wherever the Lord leads them, but you can tell that most of the teachers and the administration hope that the Lord leads you to Bob Jones.

There’s no going back. Once you know something for sure, the only path through it is forward. Alfred.