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Last night I was upstairs in my house, doing some cleaning. I sat down in the big, squashy, rocking armchair in my room to take a break, and I picked up my phone and opened Facebook to scroll for a few minutes. And immediately I saw a post from a theologian I follow who posted something I didn’t want to believe. I googled like I do with everything to verify, and then I started sobbing. Despite the television on downstairs where the kids were watching a show, my oldest son, nine-years-old, heard me crying and came to find out why.

Anna Elisabeth Howard

Anna Elisabeth Howard writes highly caffeinated takes on shalom as a lens for everything from her front porch in Hendersonville, TN.

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