Hurt people, hurt people…

I grew up in a black Baptist Church on the corner of two financially neglected streets in Baltimore's Inner City.  My home pastor was like my father and while I would love to say that I paid attention to everything that he ever preached, I didn't (sorry Pastor!) But there was one particular sermon that …

You could complain…

It's Friday. Whatever semblance of patience that you had disappeared by Wednesday morning. Yet here it is Friday afternoon and you are trying to find the strength to last the rest of the day. The same colleagues that worked your last good nerve on Monday have returned with their unsolicited encore performances today. When you look …