overcoming
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They tell me I’m wasting my breath—picking at scars that should be hidden under sleeves. As if we are best served by silence, wearing smiles like masks stitched too tight, our eyes peering out like ghosts from behind glass. These are the ones who believe in tidy appearances, that betrayal and pain can be buried…
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Come into my home with me today, join me in my prayer life, and my daily reading. Welcome! A Jewel: God’s love separates. So many religious folks like to believe that unity is the only message in the Kingdom of God. Not so! His love often separates us for protection, for growth, for nourishment and…
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Introspection — what better way to start a week. Question: Do you easily call out the deception in your abuser(s) or do you deny what you see? One of the easiest ways to stay outside of healing and freedom is to deny what you see. As children, if you came through childhood sexual crimes, you…
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I see it everywhere—in my own life and out in the world….men in collapse. Not just tired, not just distracted, but completely surrendered. No fire. No vitality. It breaks my heart… I want to fix it but I’m not even sure how to diagnose it. I think about it a lot as I’m raising my…
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Come into my home with me today, join me in my prayer life, and my daily reading. Welcome! A Jewel: If my life were not changed, I’d have nothing to write about. The truth: my life is forever changed. I should NOT be who I am. I am a walking, talking, breathing miracle of the…
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Come into my home with me today, join me in my prayer life, and my daily reading. Welcome! A Jewel: There are days when my soul feels that God has forgotten me. That somehow in His busyness, He doesn’t have time to see my dreams. Then, I am reminded that most dreams that live in…
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Once there were always people. Houses full. Cars in the driveway. The long gravity of family gatherings pulling everyone back to the same kitchen table. Someone always pouring coffee. Someone always arguing about politics. Kids slipping between the legs of adults while the grown-ups talked too loudly. People orbited your life then. Parents. Aunts. Cousins.…
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I miss something I never had. That is the cruel math of it. A man stood in the doorway. He shared my blood, my last name, the air in the house. He existed. But he was not there. He was a storm that learned my name and used it. I grieve not a man, but…
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Daughter, little lamb, soft as dawnlight— the world is a hungry thing, its hands are thieves, its tongue dripping honey, laced with thorns. Once, you were nothing but lullabies and milky breath, your body a temple of baby fat and unbruised trust. Now the wolves call you darling, the merchants weigh your worth in flesh.…
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Heroin was the obvious lie. Perfectionism was the respectable one. Same mechanism. Different costume. One numbed the pain. The other anesthetized it with achievement, productivity, and praise. Both promised relief. Both demanded everything. The needle and the calendar were never enemies. They were accomplices. People like to call that growth. It isn’t. It’s substitution. Perfectionism…