Forgiveness, in some cases, is a flipping miracle in the sense that you're fighting, and suddenly something happens. It's a kind of grace. Whether you believe in God or not, something happens, and it's transformative.
Trump was our last shot. I kind of thought it was Romney, and then lo and behold, like a miracle, Trump comes along. I still believe in Trumpism. I have no regrets for ferociously supporting him. What choice did we have?
Usually my Easter reading consists of 'Who Moved the Stone?,' which gets dusted off annually and read, often in one sitting, to remind me of the miracle of redemption, resurrection and life after death.
I am quite surprised, that with all my work, and some of it is very, very good, that nobody talks about The Miracle Worker. We're talking about Mrs. Robinson. I understand the world... I'm just a little dismayed that people aren't beyond it yet.
My parents, and librarians along the way, taught me about the space between words; about the margins, where so many juicy moments of life and spirit and friendship could be found. In a library, you could find miracles and truth and you might find something that would make you laugh so hard that you get shushed, in the friendliest way.
It's terrifying, that unconditional love you have for a child. I still wonder if she really came from me, from my womb. It's a miracle. I don't understand it. I live it very intensely.