faith
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Recovery from childhood abuse is a long, winding, badly paved road. There are stretches where you think, I’m finally getting somewhere. Then suddenly you hit a pothole you didn’t know existed. A memory surfaces. A feeling you buried twenty years ago walks into the room without knocking. And then comes the part nobody talks about…
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There is something almost offensively beautiful about the way children demand repetition. “Again.” Read the same book. Sing the same song. Push the swing. Build the tower. Knock it down. Again. And again. And again. We call it exhausting because we have forgotten how to be alive. Chesterton noticed something profound about children: their appetite…
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The Things Logic Cannot Feed There is a peculiar poverty in a life that has learned how to explain everything. We have become suspicious of mystery. We want to know why the child died, why the marriage failed, why the heart broke, why the stranger appeared at precisely the right moment. We dissect our suffering…
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Somewhere along the way, we started believing that everything depended on us. Our healing. Our children. Our marriages. Our homes. Our futures. We clutch at them until our hands ache, convinced that if we loosen our grip for even a moment, the whole world will come apart. It is a curious form of pride disguised…
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Come into my home with me today, join me in my prayer life, and my daily reading. Welcome! A Jewel: Unfettered consistency. I heard the Lord quietly whisper unfettered consistency to me this morning. “What does unfettered mean,” I thought to myself. Unfettered means unrestrained or uninhibited. God himself was telling me that nothing would…
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‘You weren’t born to be anything you want; you were born to be something quite specific.’ —Martin Shaw, Smokehole Somewhere along the way I was taught that freedom meant becoming anything I wanted. Build yourself. Reinvent yourself. Curate yourself. Keep every door open until life itself becomes one long hallway of mirrors. But God has…
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People often imagine God’s miracles as lightning bolts. A flash. A spectacle. A man wakes blind and goes to sleep seeing. But there is another kind of miracle that receives far less applause because it happens so quietly that, for years, no one notices they are standing in one. It is the miracle of the…
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My body became a monument to everything I refused to say. For years I searched for what was broken in me, never suspecting it might be my soul crying out. Headaches. A neck so tight it felt like it was holding up decades instead of a head. It is a strange thing, how flesh becomes…
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There was a time when I confused trembling with devotion. I was a shattered, self-destructive girl, forever sweeping up the glass of my own life, believing God was standing over me with a ledger instead of open hands. I knew how to run from Him. Then I learned how to perform for Him. I traded…
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The world can offer advice for healing the body. It may even help us understand parts of the mind. But the healing of the heart belongs to God. And I don’t believe healing is something we finally “arrive” at, as though one day we become completely fixed and untouched by pain. I think we…