cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Everyone wants to be accepted by their peers, but belonging doesn’t come as easily for some as for others. For the elementary school student, the first day of school brings much excitement, but it also comes with new challenges that reach beyond learning contractions and double-digit addition. Social nuances abound and add new dimensions to…
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Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them. John 7:37-38 These verses, engraved on my heart, may be the single most moving verses to me. I have longed for the living water Jesus offers—a promise to…
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“Your destiny is never tied to anyone that left you.” — Thomas D. Jakes Your destiny is important, though sometimes people can’t see it, so they overshadow you with their own ambition. They place you last. They never listen. Your ideas are only valuable as long as they benefit. Often deemed charming narcissistic personality types,…
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I sit in a room of nearly 100 women assembled at my church for a dinner gathering. I try to engage in the conversation at my table as I pick at my meal, but I am distracted by the knowledge that soon a video featuring part of my story will play. At each of these…
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Growing up, I loved playing “house.” I’d run around the basement pretending to be cooking, cleaning, and going on dates with my “boyfriend.” Everything in my game of adulthood was easy and lighthearted. There was rarely any conflict or hardship, which might be why his words, spoken fifteen years ago, cut me so deeply.
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I pre-ordered Brené Brown’s new book on belonging as soon as I heard about it, both because I respect her work, and even more, because questions about belonging come up consistently for me.
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I could hardly stand the excitement I felt to be shopping with my mother for a skirt to match my Blue Bird vest. Some six- year old girls were talking about joining Brownies but my mother said Blue Birds and Camp Fire Girls had a much nicer camp and that sounded great.
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“Can I come?” These words were a real risk for me as a young girl.
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It was the last day of sixth grade, one of the few grades when I actually liked my teacher.
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