I went to the doctor this week to get established as a new patient here in my new town. Of course, they took my weight. Okay, nothing I didn’t already know. Then they measured my height. I’ve lost two inches! Seriously?

When I moved to Indiana, I swear I grew taller. I could tell because I could barely reach the second shelf in the kitchen when I arrived. I could only set a glass at the age and then slowly push it to slide back away from the edge. Over time, I realized I could fully reach up and set a glass deep onto the shelf without strain. “I’m getting taller,” I told my friend. She pointed out that wasn’t likely; that I was just becoming more limber and able to stretch further. Well, I had become more physically active. I guess that explained it.

Now last week I was shocked to have lost two inches. But hey! I think I found them. Those two inches traveled from my head to my waist; from height to width. Not a good trade-off. I wonder if I can stretch and move enough to push them from horizontal mass back to vertical. That would be nice, right? We’ll see.

Meanwhile, I hope you’re able to stretch and reach everything you desire. May you grow taller and prouder . . . at least in your soul where it really counts.