The Gob-Smacking Nature of Grace
The scene generally looks the same: after my older son and I pick up his brother at preschool, I have a choice to make. Do I take the shorter route, the one that winds down MacArthur and through the center of town, complete with stoplights and traffic and grit galore? Or do I take the back roads that take a few minutes longer but guarantees a glimpse of the magical view?