“Tell me why it can’t be that simple,” I plead with my husband. “He needs a bed. We have a guest room.”
I am desperate for an answer that will assuage my guilt and brighten my mood. It’s more than that, though. I want an answer that will fix the problem of Michael’s homelessness, one that will ease both his pain and mine. Continue reading “Smells Like Homeness by Erin Lane”
Feminism and Religion 