The Tent.

Brave On was a safe space for my heart to rest and to shift.  Who knew there could be a place with (gasp) a bunch of Christian women that also carried the adjective “safe”?!

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Empty Spaces

I whispered, “I am not my burnout,” a phrase I held underneath my breath just silent enough so no one else could hear. These words erupted as Jen Hatmaker was giving a stellar keynote at the recent Brave On conference. While I do not recall Jen’s exact words, I sharply remember her speech triggered a new…

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Something Always Shifts

Shards of glass rage against my vocal folds as I slowly swallow to lessen the pain. Lymph nodes appear to be working overtime as swelling and tenderness make me want to wrap a warm compress around my neck. I awoke days ago to a raw, scratchy feeling in the back of my throat. Sickness has…

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Quiet Familiarity

I was born in the suburbs of Chicago, raised on the dynasty of the Chicago Bulls and the “curses” of the Chicago Cubs. I lived in the same town until I left for college at the age of 18. “Home” will always be that Chicagoland suburb, but it’s no longer the only place where I…

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Familiar

This season feels familiar. I find myself repeating these words often. When this happens, I have learned to take notice. It is the start of a new school year. The four children who live at home range in age from 15-10. These are my (not so) littles who are now the ages of the “bigs”…

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Stretch Marks

Chris caught the flu near the beginning of my second trimester with Asha. At the time our home was under construction in an attempt to restore decades of mold and wood rot that we unknowingly inherited. Our first house, once a hopeful purchase, had turned into a homeowner’s nightmare, and we could not wait to…

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A Time

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep…

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Ready or Not, Here I come!

From the moment the work truck pulled into the driveway when the kids were small, a beautiful anticipation bubbled up and filled the air.  Happy squeals and scurrying feet abounding as we all took cover to hide from dad, including the big black lab who always gave us away. Kevin would enter with such joy and…

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While I Wait

A few weeks ago I felt the Spirit’s prompting to make a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. The invitation did not feel uncanny; I love nudges to create. Instead, I was curious about the message I would receive in the process. Baking chocolate chip cookies is a ritual I practice during seasons of the…

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Burning life scripts.

“I’ll never pierce my cartilage. That is just gross.” I said the words to my mother and sister with the absolute, undeniable certainty every 15-year-old possesses.

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