By Candace Echols In one sentence—that’s all she could fit between two sobs—my little girl melted a lifetime of struggle into just a few words. …
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Author: Candace Echols
A Christian Responds to an Atheist on Good Friday
By Candace Echols It’s Easter weekend, and I’m a Christian. Typing that statement still fills me with angst. Not because of Christ, no, but because of…
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A soul fed by basketball, from Trezevant to Britain to the Grizz
By Candace Echols In my former life, I played a little semi-professional basketball in Britain. I know. It’s as shocking to me now as it…
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Today I need good
By Candace Echols I am so tired, So tired of the tough, So tired of reading about all the world’s stuff. Today I need good, I…
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The laughter we can’t live without
By Candace Echols Last week, I had the opportunity to drop into the lives of three people and interview them for another publication. When I…
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Unforseen fissures from a fractured year
“Brief, awkward exchanges reveal we differ on thoughts about pandemic life. It’s unsettling.” By Candace Echols Recognizing my old friends’ faces when I see them…
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God and Instagram: ‘Likes’ in the grand scheme
By Candace Echols You may know that I am new to Instagram. You see, I am a 3 on the Enneagram, which means I am…
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Emotional meltdowns, free and from a veranda near you
“. . . the day started to unravel a bit . . . I was coming up empty on all sides.” By Candace Echols Last…
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Holding onto something while the world quakes
The Yellow Chair ChronEchols By Candace Echols My sister lives in Italy. She called the other day and we were talking about a lot of…
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Called out by the little objects she left behind
More in The Yellow Chair ChronEchols By Candace Echols Just before Christmas, we lost a dear family member. She was elderly and it wasn’t a…
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