Category: Uncategorized

Last night damn near broke me. I found myself sitting on the floor with my 16-year-old son, holding him in my arms like I used to when he was small. Only this time, it wasn’t scraped knees or bad dreams that brought him to me—it was something heavier, deeper, unspoken. And for the first time…

Parenting through the silence and trusting God with the pieces.  Ugh. There is nothing worse than knowing you’re about to break your kid’s heart with something that’s completely out of your control. Especially when it’s one of the ones who hasn’t quite found his way to God yet. Big changes are happening in our family.…

Finding peace in the place I was once ashamed to stand. I’ve spent most of my life on the outside. Not by choice—but by nature, by design. It started early. In kindergarten, while the other girls laughed and danced in circles, I was peeling glue off my fingers, sitting with the girl in the wheelchair…

Thoughts from the In-Between t’s a strange thing to feel both deeply planted and quietly pulled. When we moved to Georgia four years ago, I had no idea how much of myself I’d find here. Or how much I’d lose, and then find again in new ways. This place has been a classroom, a chapel,…

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the better version of me. Before I had kids, I had this vision of who I would be.The cool mom.The one with the stocked pantry. The one who always had snacks and open arms for the neighborhood kids. The one who made the costumes from scratch. The one who was…

Trauma taught me how to survive. Healing is teaching me how to live. The first time my baby had a fever, I couldn’t breathe. I held his tiny body in my arms, pressed cool cloths to his forehead, whispered every prayer I knew—but inside, a quiet terror began to hum. A familiar one. A voice…

Quiet strength. Soft presence. Unshakable grace. The Day I Started Believing in God I don’t know if everyone can pinpoint the exact moment they started believing in God—or at least in the idea of something bigger than themselves. But for me? I can. I was eight years old, sitting in a hospital room, watching my…

For the woman who is healing and still showing up- for her kids, her marriage, her life. I didn’t stop being a mom just because I was in pain.I didn’t stop making dinner, folding laundry, or showing up to all the activities just because my heart was unraveling.Healing didn’t tap me on the shoulder and…

A reflection from the messy middle, before the healing began There’s something I don’t talk about much.Not because I’m hiding it—at least not intentionally—but because I’m still learning how to say it without choking on the shame. I was the villain in someone’s story.Maybe more than one.And I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t wake…

A look at unexpected emotional flashbacks, shame spirals, and how healing doesn’t mean we never get triggered.  I thought I was over it. The hard thing. The chapter I never signed up for. The ache I’ve prayed through a hundred times. I’ve gone to therapy. Done the work. Wrote the journal entries and whispered the…

Losing who you used to be isn’t failure. It might be freedom. I used to think that change meant something had gone wrong. If I didn’t recognize myself, I must have drifted. If I didn’t fit the rooms I used to walk into with ease, I must have lost something. If I was more quiet,…

Because some weeks just need bagels and tenderness. Some weeks don’t tie up neatly. This was one of those. I came into it tired and am leaving it feeling a little more undone — stretched thin by motherhood, misaligned in marriage, and unsure about where I’m standing in my life and calling. If you’re feeling…

Love, Laundry, and Learning to Speak Human Again Some nights, my husband and I pass each other like coworkers on a long shift.“Did you feed the dog?”“Did you switch the laundry?”“Did you schedule the dentist?” Sexy stuff. Marriage, they say, is hard work.But they forget to mention that the “work” sometimes looks like arguing over…

I’m still learning that I don’t have to shrink to be safe. I still say “sorry” too much. It slips out of my mouth like breath — automatic, unconscious.When someone interrupts me.When I disagree.When I ask for something I need. Sometimes I hear it come out and want to pull it back midair.Why am I…

One still calls me “Momma”, one grunts from behind a closed door, and one texts me from his own kitchen. Some days, I feel like a human time traveler. At any given moment, I could be wiping peanut butter off a five-year-old’s face, reminding a teenager that deodorant is not optional, and Venmo-ing my grown…

When you don’t agree with your teen, or your spouse, and your heart is stuck between love and letting go. Some days, I feel like I’m parenting from the sidelines of my own child’s life. He walks through the room, and I see him — but only glimpses.Not the wide-eyed kid who used to beg…

What do you do when your kids break your heart a little, and you still have to keep showing up? Oh hi there. Welcome.Pull up a chair, grab your tea (or the cold coffee you forgot about), and settle in. This one’s a little raw, a little tender, and a whole lot of honest. Some…

On holy words, soft places, and skipping around in your comfort shows when you’re deep in your feels. Some days, I don’t need a sermon.I don’t need a solution.I don’t even need advice. I just need to feel held. And on those days, I go to the Psalms. Not because I want a theological unpacking…

A journey of healing and hope I was raised in silence, in rooms full of noise Where love had sharp edges and fear stole my voice The nights were long and the days wore a mask, Each smile I offered, a difficult task. Bruises can fade, but echo’s remain, Like whispers of shame in the…

When your too tender, too quiet, too much- and exactly who God meant you to be. All my life, I’ve never really felt like I fit in. When I was a little girl, my favorite thing wasn’t playing tag or dolls or whatever everyone else was doing. It was sitting with my neighbor’s elderly mother…