redemption
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Let me tell you something about stories—they are the bones we bury, the ones we dig up, hoping the earth hasn’t gnawed them clean. When you come from a childhood where the wolves wore human faces, it is tempting to keep silent, to let the past rot beneath your skin. But silence is a cruel…
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Prejudice exists. I’m often judged and categorized for discussing my upbringing. It gets old. I’d be much more acceptable to them if I didn’t stand by my right to speak. Uncomfortable and unending, the opinions around me fly. Why don’t they be quiet? I didn’t ask them, did I? Unfortunately, this judgment and my shame…
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I was a child waiting at the door, knuckles pale and small, knocking and hoping, waiting for a world that never answered. I used to believe that if I kept quiet enough, the hurt would pass over me, a storm cloud that didn’t know my name. But it came, it always came—silent as a shadow…
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Incest left a scorched path of intolerable pain that I needed healing for. No amount of reparenting my soul was going to touch that pain. A yoga session was not going to be able to quench the sting of this long-laid plan to destroy parts of me and still the lost integrity to my soul.…
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I was born into a house where the walls knew my name before I did, and the ghosts hung heavy. Childhood was no tender womb; it was a gauntlet of fists, of silence so thick you could choke on it. I learned early how to disappear, how to make myself small enough to fit into…
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When I was on heroin, for 10 years of my life, sometimes it would occur to me that I was using them, in part, so that I didn’t have to face taking true risks and failing. I could always blame drugs on the fact that I wasn’t fulfilling my potential. I knew it deep in…
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Let me tell you something about hope and keeping faith going—it’s not a one-time decision or a magical moment. It’s a relentless, everyday choice. I’ve learned this through my own journey of healing and rising above. And trust me, it’s a messy, beautiful ride. Optimism isn’t about ignoring the dark parts of our lives. It’s…
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“. . . I have looked upon my people because their cry has reached me.” I Samual 9:16 What if God chooses people to help the hurting. Do you believe in God’s annointing? I do! God heals through people. Every word we speak in silence to God, he remembers. He makes a record of our…
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I was miserably assaulted in my childhood by many members of my family – my parents included. I left that home and went right into the home of another abuser. Me and my children were assaulted by him for almost 18 years. My heart sobs over the loss and victimization that plauged me and my…
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There’s a lot of talk about forgiveness, and while I believe wholeheartedly in forgiveness, I’m hard-pressed to understand the ability to reconnect to the people that violated my innocence, my trust, and gave me no protection. The way I see it is that to extend my hand to my mother, my father, my brother, or…