jesus
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I’ve spent too much of my life feeling responsible for the crimes that were done to me. Someone did go to prison for those crimes but it wasn’t the prepetrators, it was me. I was a prisoner by no crime of my own and I lived that way for far too many years. I thought…
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I would love to hear from you! A Jewel: Are you shrinking away from your healing? Are you staying by abusers? Make sure you do not strengthen the hands of evildoers. I am not talking here about those that cuss, have a drink or smoke. That’s not evil. What I am talking about is vile…
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On the discussion of fear, do you fear love? “To love at all is to be vulberable.” C.S. Lewis Do you allow a love that is vulnerable? Do you allow yourself to feel a love that exposes you — soft, unguarded, and without control? So, I ask you again, do you live in a world…
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The world is loud. News cycles are filled with violence, outrage, and division. Social media amplifies the noise until it feels like it’s pressing in on every side. And for many of us, the chaos outside echoes an old, familiar sound—the chaos we grew up in. When your childhood was marked by instability, abuse, or…
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Season of Awakening is the first series in Seasons of the Huntress guided journals. These journals are for survivors of childhood sexual trauma. With gentle prompts, affirmations, and blank space to write or pray, it offers a place to release silence and lean into the presence of God. More than a book of answers, it…
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Survival doesn’t often look like the movies. It isn’t a dramatic rescue, a single victory march, or a tidy ending. More often, survival is invisible. It is the quiet work no one applauds: getting out of bed when your body feels like a battlefield, feeding a child when you yourself have no appetite, remembering to…
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My first memories of evil are not blurred—they are sharp, searing, and unshakable. Fear walked in the door before I had words for it. It crept into my childhood and sat heavy on my chest, teaching me to stay small, teaching me to hide. I carried that fear like it was part of my identity.…
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I wrote this after a conversation with my mom about scars. She said God doesn’t take them away. We carry them. Not as disfigurement, but as witness. For years I believed healing meant erasure. No trace of pain, no mark left behind. But when Christ rose, He kept His scars. Not because He lacked the…
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A cheap Saturday night took you down. You died stupidly and harshly . . . I failed you as a talisman – so I stand now as your witness. My Dark Places, An L.A. Crime Memoir, James Ellroy I cannot bring the dead woman back, but I am a witness to her last moments on…
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The heart is a wild thing. It runs after pleasures, it bows before honors, it clings to security, yet never is it at peace. I have seen souls chase endlessly after one comfort, then another, like a child distracted by every trinket. Yet the heart remains hungry and unsatisfied, for it was not made for…