Posts by pamelajmorton

The Crepe Paper Grew Taut

The Crepe Paper Grew Taut

By on Jun 30, 2019 in Blog | 0 comments

“T-A-U-T. Taut,” he said. I let my imagination follow his words. He continued, “The crepe paper would grow taut…” I attended a conference this week with colleagues who dedicate themselves to being light in dark places. The speaker to whom I was listening had grown up in a foreign country, though American. He displayed a photo on the...

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Two Llamas, A Laundry Bag, Sumo’s & Kindred Souls

Two Llamas, A Laundry Bag, Sumo’s & Kindred Souls

By on May 30, 2019 in Blog | 0 comments

“I am not making this up,” I exclaimed to my friend. “Two llamas ran free in the yard where you were staying?” she asked incredulously. “Yes, but that’s not even the WEIRD part,” I protested. She laughed and listened to me regale her with our latest location we had stayed at while traveling in the Pacific Northwest. Pacific...

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Cheering Not Competing

Cheering Not Competing

By on Apr 27, 2019 in Blog | 0 comments

Recently, I had the great privilege of addressing a group of leaders in Southern Missouri. So many of these women have mentored, encouraged, and cheered me on. One of these ladies, Vicki, read a postcard that a friend and I had written to her as 14-year-olds. What?! First, what kind of organizational system does Vicki have that would allow her to put her hands on a...

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The Love Doctor

The Love Doctor

By on Nov 19, 2018 in Blog | 0 comments

“Tell him about the languages! our host said. John looked at him and replied, “I’m not sure what you mean.” Shaking his head, “The languages! The languages! What you told me before about your wife!” It seems that during our last time with our new friend (the host), John made polite conversation and talked about our 31 years of marriage. Intrigued, our host asked how...

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A Good Egg

A Good Egg

By on Nov 1, 2018 in Blog | 0 comments

I burned a pot of eggs the other day. Not just a little. In fact, so far removed were these eggs from my memory that only the sound of them shooting across the room in the kitchen would jar my attention. How great was the carnage! John followed me to see what all the hubbub was. He looked at the Picasso-like egg installation and then at me, then back to the eggs....

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