peace
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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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On the question of fear, ask yourself: Do I live in the fear of what my future holds? Incest leaves a whole so large in the heart of a person seldom do they whisper, “I cannot wait to see what my future holds.” They’d never utter that because hope has usually been robbed from them. Hope…
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When I was a little girl, I learned that silence could become a second skin. It wrapped itself around what had been done to me. It taught me to smile while my spirit folded itself into smaller and smaller corners. It whispered that survival was the same thing as peace. It wasn’t. Silence did not…
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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…
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On the question of fear, ask yourself: Do I live in the fear of what others think? Fear with a capital “F” stays with survivors of incest. It was a gift given to us at breakfast, served with soup at lunch, and gluttonously given at the dinner table. Fear had to be consumed by us for…
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Jesus keeps setting tables in the strangest places. I know because I’ve stumbled into a few of them. A child’s bedroom where something sacred was being violated. A house full of secrets. A girl learning too early that the world could be beautiful and monstrous at the same time. I thought I was abandoned there.…
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Introspection — what better way to start a week. Question: Do you easily call out the deception in your abuser(s) or do you deny what you see? One of the easiest ways to stay outside of healing and freedom is to deny what you see. As children, if you came through childhood sexual crimes, you…
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People like to talk about trauma like it’s only damage. Something to fix. Something to soften and soothe until it disappears. That’s incomplete. I wasn’t just hurt. I was trained. Not in a way I would have chosen. Not in a way I would ever recreate for my children. But training doesn’t stop being training…
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Prudence doesn’t get clicks. Prudence is slow. Quiet. Unimpressive. It looks like saying no when everyone else says yes. It looks like leaving early, staying faithful, keeping your mouth shut, doing the long, boring work of healing when nobody is clapping for you. Nobody goes viral for self-control.Nobody gets applause for breaking a generational pattern.Nobody…
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The closer I draw near to Jesus, the more embarrassed I am by the things I once called freedom. I spent years mistaking chaos for creativity. I thought intensity meant depth. I thought wreckage was proof I was alive. That’s what childhood teaches you when love is unstable and safety is conditional. You learn to…