One moment they were in their apartment building. The next they were under it. Ninety people trapped when a 7.7 magnitude earthquake in Myanmar suddenly leveled their building.

Fifty Myanmar children went to pre-school that day. At least a dozen died there in the sudden collapse of their school. The rest were listed as missing.

One doctor in Mandalay said: "Wherever I looked, I saw collapsed buildings. Only dust."

By Ron Hutchcraft

Sometimes "Breaking News" is really "Heartbreaking News." This is one of those times.

They're running out of disaster words to describe it. The damage done by those monster California fires that have consumed everything in their path.

"Devastated." "Obliterated." "Apocalyptic."

By Ron Hutchcraft

"But wait! There's more!"

No, not the line at the end of a TV infomercial...

But the line that lingers at the end of Christmas. Despite all the great that Christmas offers - there's more! So much more!

All those people in the Christmas story - Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, the Wise Men - they had been living with anticipation of the coming of the Messiah.

By Ron Hutchcraft

Health clubs and spas love January! Business skyrockets as December bulges turn to January workouts.

A "new year" sounds like a great time to work on a new you. Thus, the infamous New Year's resolution. "A firm decision to do or not to do something."

Sadly, research shows that about 88% of our resolutions won't happen.

By Brad Hutchcraft

It's our daughter's first year of college, and I don't really try to hide the fact that I miss her. Even if I did try, my eyes would tell the full story. So, it should come as no surprise that the anticipation for her Christmas break hits a little differently. In the midst of all of the baking and decorating, while hanging Christmas ornaments, while balancing on the ladder with lights in hand, there is this recurring thought...

"I can't wait to welcome her home!"

​​​​​By Ron Hutchcraft

Poor Charlie Brown. For over 50 Christmases the same frustrated question has wailed from his mouth - "Can anyone tell me what Christmas is really all about?!"

My eight-year-old son could have told him. We were at the kitchen table devouring a Christmas Eve pizza, eager to start opening gifts. That's when the call came. Our kids sort of groaned collectively.

Living in New Jersey, one of the nice things about our yard was the trees. Also, one of the frustrating things about that yard was the trees. See, every fall we would fill about a hundred or more bags stuffed with the leaves that came from those trees. We appreciated those leaves most of the year, but there was a month where they weren’t much fun at all.

Our then-18-month-old grandson rapidly became a bulldozer on two legs. He didn't actually walk anywhere; he ran everywhere. Of course, he didn't always get around like that. First, he only went where one of us carried him. Then the crawling started. He didn't do that for long. He graduated to walking real fast. And, like every baby who ever learned to walk, he began by taking a step or two and then he fell down. I guess he could have said to himself after a couple of falls, "Oh well, I guess I wasn't cut out to walk. It's just too hard. I keep falling down. I think I'll just lie here from now on." Oh, great! Fast forward to when he's 18 years old, and his mother has to vacuum around him. His friends come over and he says, "Hey, you want to roll into my room with me?" No, it didn't work that way. After he went "step-boom," he got back up and went "step-step-boom." And then "step-step-step-step-boom." Then you couldn’t stop him!

Over the years, one of my areas of giftedness has been in the area of sleeping. So, when my children were teenagers and came home at night, they could ring the doorbell, could stomp upstairs or even over our bed, and I would probably barely stir. Oh, but not my wife. I think there's something about the way many mothers are wired. They sleep real light - if at all - until everyone's home safe. It's a mother thing. They just can't rest until all their children are in.

By Ron Hutchcraft

It was about 11 o'clock at night when I suddenly got a cryptic text from my son - "Please turn off your porch lights." Excuse me?

Next weird thing - there are a dozen people in my front yard, all looking up at the sky. I can't really see them. Oh, but I can hear them in the dark.

Then I get it. They've come where it's further from any light to see the show in the sky. The northern lights. The aurora borealis. That spectacular display of colored lights, seldom seen in the lower 48. Caused this time by an unusually large storm on the sun.