The Quiet Hero

I know a hero who does not seek gain, but servanthood. He improves another’s day in profound ways with simple actions. He knows the meaning of sacrifice and the power of humility. This hero knows people are more important than things. He phrases everything in a positive light. He is someone who knows how to…

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Crown or No Crown, You’re Still a Queen to Me

“Crown or no crown, you’re still a queen to me.” I read these bold, black words in a small card with a picture of a silver glitter crown on the cover.  My friend, Desire—my coworker and fellow sorority sister—left this card for me at our work. It was a sweet gift: we had just learned…

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Class Act

I watched from the car. First a trickle, then a stream, and finally, a sea of maroon-and-gray plaid poured from the elementary building as I patiently waited in the carpool line. How many times had I strained to find my daughter amid the end-of-the-school-day chatter? I learned years ago that my best chance of locating…

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Drops of Kindness

When the pandemic hit, my business partner and I sprang into action. We felt called to serve and hold open space so that people could gather to be seen, to learn, and to process what was happening so quickly. The disruption, chaos and loss felt like a wildfire spreading faster than any of us could…

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Comforting My Critical Self

You know you have an internal critic when your therapist tells you that you have an “Integrated Self” and a “Critical Self.”

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Practicing Kindness

A friend gave me a Skylight photo frame that allows me to upload photos to the Cloud and then watch as the device takes me through the sequence I have uploaded. We have over forty photo albums, and each time I take out the aging pictures, I am thrown into a moment where I see myself…

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An End to Bitterness

Lately, I feel like I did as a child, when I would spin and spin in circles until I fell to the ground with dizziness. As a little girl this was fun. As an adult, not so much. In the past five years I can’t seem to find a single thing that I haven’t examined.…

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If Life Was a Food Fight

My critical eye takes in my form in the long oak-framed mirror as I tuck the billowy white top into my jeans. On principle, I don’t wear white. “White” is my lunch, make-up, and pit stains on display for the world to see. It’s impracticality, stamped with an expiration date.

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