In the time since I started The Fulcrum Chronicles, I’ve made another trip around the block. I’ve gone from being a rookie, to a veteran pastor’s wife, to a former pastor’s wife (still married to the same dude, he’s still a reverend, but he’s opted out of paid ministry). Our family has had five different addresses, I’ve changed careers, my boys have grown a thousand inches, I’ve been through one major health scare but emerged… a little banged up, but thankful times a million.
- We live in the San Francisco Bay Area, and root for sports teams accordingly.
- Cleaning my closet helps me relax.
- I’ve been learning to cook for 20 years, and one of these days, I’m going to get the hang of it.
- I met one of my childhood idols, Tom Brokaw when I was a college journalism student and have this photo to prove it:
Is this your first time to The Fulcrum Chronicles? Welcome! I’ve written about: puzzles, sunscreen, playgrounds, white pants, pumpkins, morph suits and sexy Abraham Lincoln costumes, boredom, baseball, camping and not camping, the Container Store, reasonableness, turning 40, and Amelia Earhart, among other things. Your guess is as good as mine about what’s coming next.
WTFC? Or, Why The Fulcrum Chronicles?” Every day is a teeter totter. (Remember teeter totters and all the ways you could get hurt on one?) There’s that point on the teeter totter where the plank balances. I’m no scientist or playground engineer, but I’m pretty sure that point is called the fulcrum. I like to think that’s right where God is. Maybe smiling at us as we travel up and down, pushing off the ground with our feet, and then helping us out when we get trapped for an agonizing minute by the big kid on the other end, and maybe giving that kid a stern look. It’s fun, scary, and slightly nauseating, but not a ride if we don’t have the fulcrum.
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