cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I sit on my front porch alone. Although I was invited to the graduation party, I simply cannot go. My heart simultaneously longs for connection and dreads the pain of showing up in community. Our family has been navigating acute crisis for more than a year. I am battered and bloody and desperate for care.…
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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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My surprised skin bumped into the chills of the new fall morning air. Inhaling deeply from its fresh coolness, I steadied my beating heart’s morning aches that were left over from last night’s racing internal discussion about a life and a death. A young 19-year-old woman hung, suspended before my mind with her long, coarse,…
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As I was preparing my talk for the Brave On Conference, I was searching for clues as to why March 22, 1990, was the day that changed my life. It was a pivotal day that ended my 25 years struggle of an eating disorder addiction.
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It has been one year since I received the call, one year since the news dribbled out of the earpiece that I was sister to one less brother.
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Christmastime is my favorite. The music, decorations, ugly sweater parties, cookies and candy canes – all of it ignites child-like excitement within me.
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Dear Eighteen, Here you are. Yesterday’s child is today’s legal adult, and yet, nothing has really changed.
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“Forgive me.” Ugh…I will admit that I have not practiced the art of asking for forgiveness.
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My parents asked me if I had any questions. But, I simply nodded no and told them I understood what was happening.
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Three days after Christmas in 1999, I found out that my mom had died her in sleep.
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