The Epstein Effect: When power trumps justice

“While Jesus was here on earth, he offered prayers and pleadings, with a loud cry and tears, to the one who could rescue him from death.” Hebrews 5:7 (NLT) Truth: I avoid the news these days. My desire for justice often leaves me with gut problems; stomach aches over the inaction of men, women, silence of…

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Power and Privilege

Panic attacks, high anxiety, and digestive issues were the symptoms that encamped my body anytime I went to church as I began to process part of the sexual harm that marked my young personhood. I told the story nearly eight years after my childhood pastor was arrested for exploiting children and women through the means…

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A Brilliant Escape

Today I saw a caterpillar smashed on the sidewalk. She met her demise before she met her destiny. Sometimes, I want to be that caterpillar. Pleading that my life might somehow end. This desire for eternal rest comes because emptiness has found her way back to me again. I try relentlessly to fill her but…

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Stage Four Racism and the Truth about Love

He loves me between his smiles and contagious giggles. The brown guy in front of me wrinkles his nose and anger passes through his eyes, the anger he’s absorbed all day. I squeeze his arm. He flinches. How did I forget he cannot bear the gentle touch I offer after a long day? I’ve encouraged…

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Chasing Passion Among Sheep

It is approximately 1:00 am when the bus pulls into the service center and I file out behind the women wearing headscarves. I am a spectacle, to be sure. I pay to use the Turkish toilet, remembering the awkward squat this set up requires and one particular time on a ferry boat while 7 months…

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Deep Waters

I have spent the vast majority of my professional life navigating spaces dominated by men. I have patted myself on the back for refusing to conform, pursuing jobs that are less “girly”, and those that require less emotion and more logic.  I have felt strong, stoic, and independent.

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Distorted

My name is Holly, I am an addict. It does not really matter what my addiction is. What matters is my addiction was what I chose to fill the God shaped hole in my life.  My addiction kidnapped my heart, my soul and my mind. But God. God ransomed me.  I used my addiction to…

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Shattered Like Glass

Part of the spirit dies a little each time it’s asked to carry more than its weight in terror, violence, and betrayal.          Tattoos on the Heart by Gregory Boyle It’s a complicated truth, and people don’t like complications. Set This House in Order by Matt Ruff What does one do with…

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Glory and The Dirt Underneath My Fingernail 

I hear the pattering of feet and my seven-year-old son bursts through the bedroom door. I squirm, anticipating the end of my slumber.  Every morning, shortly after I hit my alarm at 5 a.m., he opens the door, declaring, “Mom, are you still here?”  I roll over. The door is shut. Luis is on his…

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Anywhere Can Be Holy

I sigh, and park my car between an instructional parking sign and the bumper of an Audi. Breathing the psalmist’s holy plea, “Lord, you have seen this; do not be silent. Do not be far from me, Lord.” I exhale. God returns silence and presses me into service with little to offer. My friend and…

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