I’m not gonna lie. Mother’s Day this year was rough for me. I’m still learning to sort through all the wounds of the past, to sift through what is real and what isn’t, to let the right things go, to dive deeper where I must, to allow God into the pain.
I’ve lived through my fair share of traumatic moments. And I’ve learned that no one will ever stand up for you the way that only you can stand up for yourself.
If God has called you to it. Do it.
Recovering from an abusive relationship is no small task. You have to relearn how to like yourself, how to love yourself, and how to trust again. Your pain is valid. Your suffering and struggles are valid. You are not exaggerating. It’s not “all in your head”. You struggle for a reason. And it is NORMAL toContinue reading “5 Questions You Need to Ask Yourself if You’ve Ever Loved a Toxic Person”
There is a cost for every choice. And what you sacrifice or willingly offer up either wounds your soul or else repairs it. Because you are not just flesh and bone and blood pumping through veins. You are spirit. You are soul. You are deeply and irrevocably eternal.
Maybe we have it all wrong. The idea of what healing means and looks like. The way it ought to feel. Maybe for some, healing is like a home with decay so deep the only thing to be done is to light a match and watch it all burn. To feel the heat of theContinue reading “How To Build A House: An Allegory”
Sit down and buckle up, because this is going to a good read. First of all, right off the bat, can I just say that if you clicked on this blog post because you thought, “Oh my gosh. That’s totally me.” I am so sorry. I’m sorry for the wounds inflicted on you, and for every day you’ve had to spend fighting back the lies that were spoken over you by the very people who should have been fighting for you.
Let go of the people who say they love you but hold everything against you. Because true love doesn’t keep a record of wrongs. Let go of the people who tear down your dreams with wild words of incapable fears. Because real love always hopes.
I remember the way my body shook the first time I typed up my story. The words just poured out of my fingertips, like water tipped over that cannot stop from spilling. It was gonna happen anyway. And maybe the water had actually been waiting all that time. Waiting to be tipped.