What’s the story that plays on repeat in your mind, the one you’ve carried with you for years?
Category: Hard Things
Unmasking Hate: What Lies Beneath
But here’s a question I’ve been wrestling with: Is hatred also a secondary emotion? Is it anger’s cousin? Does it, too, act as a bodyguard shielding even more vulnerable feelings?
Choosing Discipline in the Everyday Hard Things
As I pushed through, my mind kept trying to bargain with me. You could stop now and you still started the morning with a work out. This is hard–why not quit after two repetitions? I couldn’t de
Why Freak-Outs Aren’t the End of the Story
When was the last time you freaked out? Maybe you spotted a snake or shattered your favorite dish. Can you recall a moment when everything felt out of control–your reactions, your words, even you
Where Love and Forgiveness Meet
We assured her that we loved her and it was okay to let go. We promised to love and take care of each other. With everything we knew to do complete, we said goodnight and went to bed–our final sl
Holding on when I’m not in control
I remember being pushed on a merry-go-round as a child. At first, it was thrilling. But as the speed picked up and the world began to spin faster, I wanted to stop. The person pushing, however, lau
Beauty from Ashes: Wrestling with loss and renewal
How can something so horrific have such an earthy, almost sweet scent? How could devastation be so quickly clothed in green new life? My mind wants to rebel against the idea, yet I couldn’t help
The Blinking Cursor and the Unspoken Struggles
The cursor blinks, nudging me as if to say, Write something. The white page stares back–stark, blank and a little overwhelming.
Keeping Afloat: Faith, Support, and the Power of Asking for Help
I wish I could say that my story felt as neat as the man in the Bible. The childhood images in my mind depict the man calmly reaching for help, being lifted to safety. My experience felt far less g
The Cost of Conflict: Navigating Discomfort in a Divided World
The louder their voices got, the more tense I felt. I muttered, “This is how conflict-resistant I am. It makes me uncomfortable to listen to this.”