You don’t need to be her.
I know when you see her, a part of you aches. She seems to have exactly what you want. All figured out – right there in the palm of her hand. But the truth is, the world doesn’t need another her.
I know when you see her, a part of you aches. She seems to have exactly what you want. All figured out – right there in the palm of her hand. But the truth is, the world doesn’t need another her.
My journey in minimalism began a few years ago with a single goal: A simple white bedroom.
“Am I okay?” I think it’s the most important question we’re forgetting to ask ourselves.
I teach middle schoolers, and from the beginning of the year to the end, something mysterious happens: They lose more of the child in their heart.
There’s no way God can use this. There’s no way God can use this. In many ways, I used to be the pessimistic version of Dorothy. But what I couldn’t see back then was this: God will bless the broken…we just don’t know when.
We all have a go-to method of hiding pain. Maybe it’s food. Maybe it’s alcohol. Maybe it’s really good acting. But we do it. And it’s not to hide from the world around us. It’s to hide the hurt from ourselves.
My father died on a Friday afternoon in late March at the very beginning of the COVID crisis. Letting go and healing in months of isolation is what I would describe as macro-grieving.
When we try to escape forgiveness, we begin to build a wall. Brick-by-brick we praise our strength and admire just how efficiently we can protect our hearts.
I think shame is the worst of all enemies. It doesn’t matter what we did. And it doesn’t matter why we did it. Shame enters our heart and is nearly impossible to shake.
I once attended a workshop called “How to Make Your Comeback”. And, frankly, it was terrible.