On a fall morning over a decade ago, I sat in a circle of women whose ages and stories varied. We clutched coffee cups and held in our emotions, no one wanting to be the first to share. What did we all have in common? Being part of a class at my church called “Interrupted Expectations.” I, as a counseling intern and co-facilitator, felt the pressure to say something brilliant but instead stared at the carpet. Our leader, Jan Stockdale, pulled...

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