Spiritual healing isn't chancy

I was in my element that day over spring break, racing down the powdery slopes on a pair of skis I'd been given as a Christmas present.

My mom, sister, and I had taken an extended weekend trip to Lutsen, a ski area north of Duluth, Minnesota, where we'd hoped to catch some late skiing before the season was over. My sister and I were making the most of that Saturday, knowing we'd have only half of Sunday to ski before we'd be on our way back home.

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