Hate is Not the Way: Don’t Pass it On
I’m sitting on our patio overlooking a tree-lined canyon. The hummingbirds dive at my red-headed husband. The ground squirrels peer suspiciously at our dog, passed out in the shade of a Ponderosa pine. And it’s still, so very quiet. Peaceful. And the guilt washes over me. My family is safe, ensconced in our little tiny bit of southwest Colorado real estate. No death, no protests, no destruction. No illness. But not no worries. Facebook has been ablaze for seemingly forever. And of late, the flames get fanned on a minute-by-minute basis. There’s always a cause to defend, there’s always someone…
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