Today I walked by your bedroom door and peeked in, out of habit I suppose. I saw your neatly made bed and your empty desk. I saw the closet holding just a few remnants. The things you didn’t need for college.

I ran the tape gun over the last box, pulled it tight, and cut it. I smoothed the tape and wrote with my black sharpie: Memories.

I don’t have a bucket list. But if I did, jumping out of an airplane wouldn’t be on it.

These aren’t just words that look good on a Pinterest board of inspirational quotes. It’s a prayer that makes me tremble.

When you feel yourself getting overwhelmed and feeling like you don’t belong, because others are farther down the path, or you start to believe the lie that you aren’t a real writer, please come back to this truth:

Gulping back tears, I made my way toward the back, searching for an empty seat. As I walked that lonely aisle I made myself a silent promise, “I will never tell anyone again!”

Join me for one MONTH of freedom from the constant connection. One month to step away from your screens and the endless input. One month to reflect, reclaim your time, and evaluate the use of your one, precious life.

You’re invited to join me and any other brave souls who are willing to take one single day to step off the crazy train and live present to their own lives.

“It took so much courage for you to expose yourself like that!” commented a dear woman after I spoke at an event.  Hmmmm… It never occurred to me that I was “exposing myself”.

We can’t determine how much fruit will come from our labor. We can only WAIT for it. In the waiting, it’s not just the seed that grows, but also our faith, our trust. Our self-confidence shifts to God-confidence.

Honest confession: I got lost on the way to writing.

This week, I made a list of 20 things that went right in 2019, and a bunch of things that didn’t.  And for once, I’m ok with it. I’m even ok with my failures and shortcomings. In His mercy, God keeps reminding me to stop striving for perfection. 

Free fall is complete abandon.  It’s full surrender to the one I’m strapped to, knowing He is trustworthy.  It’s exhilarating and risky, and, wondrous. But oh so scary and I resist it, though it beckons me to freedom!

Walking through WalMart, I passed a large Barbie display with this broadside banner, “I can be anything!”  There were Barbies of all kinds, dressed according to their chosen professions: pilots, doctors, lawyers, athletes and more. I didn’t see a “Mommy” doll.

When I look around and see all the other servants, making the most of what they have been given, suddenly my “talent” seems very small. And fear picks up a shovel.  

If it were up to us, most of us would erase, hide or cover up our scars, be they physical, mental or emotional… But maybe our scars are the very thing that God wants to use to resurrect the faith of someone else. Maybe our scars should be seen and celebrated because their stories tell of a God who has the power to bring life out of death, and beauty out of brokenness.

 At the start of every New Year I think, “I should have a word of the year.”  But I always miss the “deadline” and then give up on the idea altogether.  But this year, I felt more strongly than ever before that I needed a word. 

Did I really believe my happiness could rest on something so superficial as the amount of gravity it takes to hold my feet to the earth?

 Instagram did not produce envy in me, it just called out what already existed in my heart.  Ugh! I hadn’t seen that coming.

It’s those broken parts of our lives that people are drawn to.  Because they can relate to us; because they can feel safe in our presence knowing that we don’t have it all together either.