If you were to suddenly appear this weekend at the numerous BBQs or pool parties without any knowledge of our nation's history, it might be hard to understand the real meaning of Memorial Day.
My graduate course in crisis management was the 2012 Republican presidential primaries as a senior advisory and national media surrogate for Newt Gingrich.
This week, my mother called around 10 a.m. one morning to chat for a minute and catch up. During our conversation, I realized that she was still in her bed, waiting for an aide to help into a wheelchair.
Humans have long reached toward heaven. I don't know whether this desire represents an attempt to get away from the ground, an attempt to associate with God, or an attempt to peer over the balcony and look at all the little people below. But the desire to go higher and higher has long shaped the skylines of our cities.
I heard the news of the Boston Marathon bombings just a few minutes after I had undergone a biopsy. An annual OB exam had revealed an enlarged uterus.
My sister Kathy texted the news of the Boston Marathon bombing not long after it happened.
When Margaret Thatcher was elected England's first female prime minister in the spring of 1979, I was 12 years old and my father had been a congressman for less than four months. To me, it seemed as if it would be only a short while until my own country followed suit and elected a woman to serve as president.
It's confession time - I'm in love.
Just last week, I was commiserating with other moms of middle-school teenage girls about the lack of appealing clothing available to teenage girls and the appalling state of girl teenage fashion today.
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This year for Presidents Day, instead of buying a new appliance, I'm urging all of us to mark the holiday by reading George Washington's Farewell Address and Abraham Lincoln's second inaugural. I know. Focusing on two great presidents on Presidents Day. It's radical, but at least you won't be stuck in traffic on the way to the mall.
My first marathon was New York in 1992. I trained with a group for months but had never gone a full 26.2 miles before the start of the race. Turns out that's something you ought to do.
Transitional phases are never easy. Whether it's remodeling a kitchen, rearranging the furniture or cleaning out a closet, the transitional phase is always a bit messy. This past month, we had our children's bathroom remodeled. We put it off for as long as we could. The shower has leaked for years, so our two children have been using our master bathroom for showers. The water in the sink only ran out in a trickle, barely ...
The sweat somehow made the moment more real. There we were, standing on the stage at the Hilton Hotel in Downtown Columbia, S.C., on Saturday night with my dad, Newt Gingrich, celebrating his primary victory. It was the sweat rolling down the faces and dripping off the noses of the television cameramen, photographers, audience members and even those on stage celebrating that transformed the almost surreal scene into reality.
Part of the joy of a presidential campaign is visiting different parts of the country. This past week was New Hampshire week. I've been to New Hampshire about a half-dozen times. It's a beautiful state. Mountains, ocean, beautiful forests and normally snow this time of year. However, we were snowless.
Last night, after traveling from Atlanta, my family and I arrived - hungry and tired - in Des Moines, Iowa. We are staying in the home of a friend who is out of town and decided to order pizza. I found a restaurant on Google Maps and called to place the order, only to be informed that I had reached the wrong location. The man on the other end of the line gave me the ...
Christmas memories fill our Christmas tree. It stands in our living room, filled with white lights and ornaments. Our ornaments reflect the life of our family: varied and interesting, some old, some new, some precious and some common.
My first paying job was cleaning the bathrooms of the First Baptist Church of Carrollton, Ga. This was also my sister's first job. The money we made was our money. We could decide how to spend it: clothes, records, books, eight-track tapes, whatever we decided.
Last month, I wrote a column providing a midterm life update based on a question by David Brooks.
The first "official" Thanksgiving was celebrated 222 years ago. President George Washington's first presidential proclamation designated the 26th day of November to be set aside for giving thanks.
"What is the meaning of life?" my middle school daughter asked me recently as we were lying on her bed one evening. After a few minutes of contemplation, knowing that the answer was not about acquisition of money, fame or power, and that material items might provide ease in life, but not meaning, I responded that it is "to experience and then to allow God's grace to shine through you to others."
I'm going to take the opportunity this week to write a letter of thanks to our veterans. Our country is blessed to have people who are willing to serve in our military. They enter the service knowing that they might end up giving the ultimate sacrifice, their life. Still, they decide that our country is worth the risk. It's a risk that more than 24 million men and women alive today have made. Breathtaking, isn't ...
It will take more than a generic Republican candidate to defeat President Obama next year. Repubicans will need a leader that can inspire millions to get involved and take action. Enthusiasm, optimism and passion are called for to make the movement work.
Today, everyday citizens find ourselves at a crossroads. Abandon the ideals of the American Revolution, or take control of our destiny. The American people are called to action. Every generation must decide if it wants to leave politics to the politicians - or whether we are ready for our rendezvous with destiny.