As I was scrolling through social media, I saw something that didn’t sit well with me. I ignored it. As I usually do. Because I learned a long time ago that responding to posts like this really won’t get you anywhere. But I kept coming back to it. I kept thinking about the words I read and the comments that followed this…
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Have you ever had your skin pierced by a thorn? I have. Plenty of times. We have beautiful rose bushes that bloom in the front of our house. They grow quickly, and need to be trimmed regularly. I am always cautious and aware of the thorns, but inevitably will be stuck. At least once. Usually more. I have had thorns…
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If you knew how I voted, would you still like me? If you knew my past, would you still talk to me? If you knew the shows I watched or the music I listened too, would you still respect me? If you knew I watched church online, or didn’t attend at all, would you think less of me? If you…
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This morning, as I was walking around upstairs, in and out of my children’s rooms, looking at the posters on the walls and the trinkets lining the shelves and the mascara that had rolled off of the counter onto the floor – I was struck once again with a familiar feeling. The years go fast. Don’t they? When the kids…
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I want to be loved and accepted for who I am. I want to know I can walk into a room with all of my inadequacies, without the perfect outfit or the most witty remarks, and people will still be glad to see me. I want to know I won’t be talked about the minute I leave the room, or…
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