The Stories We Tell & The People Who Wound Us

I’m very careful about the stories I tell here. Primarily, because I know that sharing my stories will harm people I love dearly. I stick to generalities. Don’t give names. Rarely even refer to specific people. NEVER give descriptions.

Open The Churches! We Were Never Told To Stop Gathering.

There’s a church down the street from my Brother-In-Law’s house with an old fashioned letter board outside. It is a lovely church I’ve been inside of a few times. Once for a wedding. Once for a mom’s group. Nowadays, the letter board reads, “Wear a Mask, Save a Life”. Other times it reads “Stay Home,Continue reading “Open The Churches! We Were Never Told To Stop Gathering.”

You Are A Story: And You Have The Right To Tell It

There is that quote, “Show me your friends and I will show you your future.” It’s also true, show me your friends and I will show you the depth of healing you’ll achieve.

You Are Not Too Damaged. You Are Not Broken Beyond Repair: God Is Enough!

I hear it and read it all the time. But mostly I see it: people who have barricaded themselves inside walls built by trauma, lies, fear. It doesn’t mater who built these walls. What matters is that the walls are still standing. And sometimes I think we actually repair these walls around us. We reinforceContinue reading “You Are Not Too Damaged. You Are Not Broken Beyond Repair: God Is Enough!”

The Body of Christ Needs Women. Women Who Go Forth and Go Out.

And if it is true that when one part suffers all the parts suffer, then our words and our actions and treatments ought to be slung over our shoulders with all the respect of a an honorable weight…to be carried inside the walls of The Church, up onto its platforms, and out of our lips, God help us. Like a solider knows the sacredness of self-sacrifice and duty and this is why he must carry himself so. Because a weight is not the same as a burden.

I Am Not Content. And It Wounds The People I Love.

I am learning something so substantial, so weighty in all of this, that God sees the brokenness inside me and his response is not to shame me, his response is to remind me of who I am and to remind me of what actually matters. Because, deep deep deep inside of us, what sin has broken isn’t our perfection, it’s our identity. It has broken who we are. Our souls. Our cells.

You Don’t Have To Be A Foster Parent To Change A Foster Kid’s Life

Imagine that you have fallen into deep waters, but it’s your first time to swim. Fighting just to get a breath in; & then someone hands you a screaming child, a stack of paperwork, a bunch of trainings & appointment reminders. Then imagine being expected to complete it all while keeping yourself & that terrifiedContinue reading “You Don’t Have To Be A Foster Parent To Change A Foster Kid’s Life”

I Collect Dead, Dying Things. I Collect Brokenness.

I found this coin when I was 10 years old. I was camping about an hour east of Seattle, deep in the mountains, and as I walked barefoot through the camp sites I suddenly felt something underneath my feet that seemed out of place. I looked down to see a square coin, and couldn’t believeContinue reading “I Collect Dead, Dying Things. I Collect Brokenness.”