Finding Compassion at a Stoplight

As a parent of three active kids, I spend a lot of time in our minivan. It’s messy, cluttered with straw wrappers and stained with muddy shoe prints and spills. Life happens in that van.

It was a day that started like most of our days. We were strapped into our seatbelts, waiting, waiting and more waiting at the longest stoplight in America. You know the one—it’s just like the tortuous stoplight that is situated between you and your most frequent destination.

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