I am a child psychiatrist, and my children are littered across Kansas. They come to me broken, betrayed by those who should care for them, but can’t, or won’t. They have studied survival in the devil’s workshop and have buried their soul to save it. They bite and scratch and hit and spit, defying me to connect, to understand, to join.

My colleagues and I put our arms around our children, see through their snarls and claws, and seek the reasons for their buried souls. Why have they concealed their most precious gifts? What dangers chased the beauty they were created to be into darkness?

Customer service is alive and well, at least at a car dealership in Lawrence, Kansas. A couple of months ago I was car shopping, and stopped by Lawrence Kia. I met a manager who said, “What can we do to earn your business?” His question made an impact on me, and I bought a 2016 Hyundai Sonata from them that day. It has been getting 35 miles to the gallon on my commute, and I am happy.  

The remote access key I got from them had been glitchy – sometimes I had to push the button six times to get the door to open. The dealership wanted to make it right, and needed my car...

Dear Friends and Family,

I am now 60 hours into the 96-hour infusion. So far, so good. I call it, "Extreme Makeover, Chemotherapy Edition," or “Restructuring From Cells to Spirit,” spirit being that essence in us that creates consciousness. It turns out that the two titles are connected. I can feel the spirits of my little cells, each with their intentions and efforts, working inside my body.

I thought I could learn about my voice by reading the 26 definitions of “voice” I found on my cell phone’s dictionary app. I know, right? It says that a voice is a set of sounds, and it’s also the power of uttering those sounds. A voice can be still and small, when it belongs to God, or it can be a booming proclamation. Having a voice means...