learning

  • You Don’t Have to Remember Everything for It to Have Happened

    You don’t have to remember everything for it to have happened. There are things I remember with photographic clarity. There are other things that exist only as fragments. A feeling. A room. A particular kind of silence. The sudden awareness that something was wrong without having the vocabulary to explain what “wrong” meant. Childhood is…

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  • The Kingdom Hidden in Plain Sight

    “I left the fairy tales lying on the floor of the nursery, and I have not found any books so sensible since.” – G.K. Chesterton The older I get, the more I suspect that fairy tales were never merely stories for children. They were maps. Maps for navigating a world filled with beauty and terror,…

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  • Heart Work Comes First

    Heart Work Comes First

    Some mornings it feels like my heart is its own little plot of land, stubborn and overgrown. Not a polished garden, just soil that needs attention and a woman determined to show up anyway. That’s the real work: tending what you’d rather ignore. I’ve learned that resentment grows fast if you let it. Neglect does…

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  • In the turbulent waters of my heroin addiction, I was a sailor lost, my vessel breaking against the jagged shores of despair. Every needle was a desperate row, an attempt to steer away from the wreckage I was becoming. My oars, stained with the shadows of self-destruction, fought against the currents that whispered of a…

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  • I was born into a world that seemed to shun me, a fragile vessel adrift in a sea of despair. My earliest memories are tinged with shadows, the kind that cling to your very soul, refusing to let go. Pain was my constant companion, whispering cruel nothings into my ear, convincing me of my unworthiness.…

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  • Shadows to Sunlight

    Childhood trauma is an inheritance no child asks for. A ghost sewn into the seams of small, trembling bodies. It lingers in the marrow, in the hush of a locked door, in the filth of hands that should have protected but instead desecrated. Incest—an unspoken horror—warps time, fractures identity, leaves a child stranded in a…

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  • Parenting after surviving childhood abuse feels like steering a ship through a storm without a compass. You become both the protector and the frightened child, caught in the echoes of your past while trying to build a future for someone else.  There’s no map for this kind of journey, no help from extended family to…

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  • In the turbulent waters of my heroin addiction, I was a sailor lost, my vessel breaking against the jagged shores of despair. Every needle was a desperate row, an attempt to steer away from the wreckage I was becoming. My oars, stained with the shadows of self-destruction, fought against the currents that whispered of a…

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  • This restlessness, this void that you can never quite fill, this persistent tooth nibbling at your soul—I would suggest today that this is the call of God. It is deeply personal, a matter solely between you and Him. This call may come and go, or it may seem to permeate the very air you breathe.…

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  • In this world are millions of evil people. “The people of the evil one.” 37 He answered, “The one who sowed the good seed is the Son of Man. 38 The field is the world, and the good seed stands for the people of the kingdom. The weeds are the people of the evil one,…

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