How Can I Die to Self and Love a Little More Like Jesus?

Her fierce little eyes glared at me across the crowded hospital cafeteria. I felt the heat rising into my cheeks with each angry word she shouted. Although her words were in Bulgarian, there was no doubt this little girl was cussing her mama out! And my ability to love more like Jesus was wavering.

Her red punch splattered across the floor, she blamed it on me. I hadn’t touched the drink, much less spilled it, but that was irrelevant in her eyes.  

In the eyes of my daughter, I was at ...