Every year, my boys count the days to their favorite holiday. Step aside, Santa. The Kauffman kids are Passover fans. As the sun sets,...

Happy Wednesday, friends! I wanted to share the next poem in the "Lord's Prayer Series" because I'm really digging the videos my church...

Along with everyone else, our family has been binge-watching The Chosen. Popcorn? Check. Blankets? Check. Kleenex? Check, check, check....

This is love. The confronted Carpenter’s hand – that once gripped dirt and molded a man – now tracing the ground by the scandalous woman....

Last week, when I told the boys we were going to see Dr. P, they were confused. "My old neurosurgeon?" Caleb asked. "That stuffed bear...

One year ago, I opened my eyes from a hospital bed. The lights were off, the curtains drawn, and foggy thoughts crowded my mind. Is it...

Last week, I reluctantly grabbed my garden gloves and wheelbarrow. After a summer of swimming in tomatoes and watermelon and chamomile, I...

“Cut. Cut. Cut.” It’s the mantra of every editor and poet. A good poet aims to stir memory and pull heartstrings with just a phrase. ...

Every summer when Caleb heads to the pool, he glances over his shoulder. The scar that runs the length of his back grows along with him,...

Read the story behind Laura Kauffman's poem "Caleb."