It's not exactly a lie. But we're not wrapping up the whole truth for a meal, either. Why do we insist on sparing loved ones—or strangers—from the unvarnished truth? When St Betsy delayed telling David about the wild silver vine growing from his nostril's soil bed, was it the truth we need from our most dependable monitors? Sometimes we push broom. But if we do, someone needs to deliver Billy Bob's guttural response. In love.
