I’m oscillating between strength and weakness. Between functioning and being back to “normal” but then mourning and being angry that instead of packing my hospital bag and putting the finishing touches on our nursery in these last few weeks, I’m not. There is no stocking up on supplies. There is no prepping and planning.

The moments that change us have a way of dividing our lives into a before and an after.

I think that happens multiple times in a life. As sad as that is to think about, knowing that we have experiences that we go through, that as monumental as they seem at the time, that there is no guarantee that something even more altering won’t come somewhere else down the line. That’s the side effect of living – leaving ourselves open to knowing that one day it may take every effort we have, just to breathe in and out.

I have a tendency to make more of things than they may be. [If you listen close, you can hear the sound of a collective sarcastic gasp from anyone that knows me at all…]

Still, when it comes to matters of the heart, of emotion – feeling tends to be stronger than practicality. Particularly when it relates to rejection…

I understand that God made me a person who feels the feels. All of them. And that I can feel big.

Rejection gets to me. Slices deep and separates tissue and leaves a permanent mark. Side effect of the caring big part.

I wish it wouldn’t.

One of the undeniable attestations of being a human is growth will keep coming. One of the side-effects of being an adult is the hurt will visit frequently and the discomfort will be a close companion. I’ve had the topic to which this post will explore stirring within for quite some time.

The Thing About Giving Up

“That’s the thing about giving up. You don’t realize you’ve done it until it’s too late.” There are moments where art speaks what your soul has monologued most of your life. Raw exposure of surprised bareness.         Music does this often. Poetry most. And once in a while, the stage – theater …

I see her

Sometimes I see her, wide eyed, eager, searching for someone to introduce herself to. Hand outstretched, smile beaming and blue eyes open, expecting and warm. She carries herself, ever-in-movement, as if everything around her is a ride in a theme park of thrills and she can’t wait to try each one, unable to be still …

I Still Believe (A review of Jeremy Camp’s memoir)

Jeremy’s music is such that I forget to match his voice with his name.   Let me explain, for this is not a negative statement:        The depth of his voice is so captivating, that a name is not the identifier – the voice becomes the instant recognizable distinction. And now, after reading I …

Sometimes, you leave

Last night I was able to rejoin an in depth study into the Word, where this semester, basics are being revisited. Last night’s topic was prayer. Among the many verses given as examples of either how Jesus, Himself prayed or how we should approach prayer ourselves – there was a reference to Mark 1:35-38. I saw …