If people close to me can hold such differing views on something as simple as rinsing after brushing, then no wonder an entire nation struggles with differing perspectives on far more complex issue
Tag: hard things
The Story That Plays on Repeat
What’s the story that plays on repeat in your mind, the one you’ve carried with you for years?
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?
The small shifts that change us all
Instantly, judgement and blame swirled in my head. Old offenses surfaced. I felt separate from them, and they became the “other.” Conflict had begun, and its roots quickly spread through my hea
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
When Anxiety Knocks, Love Answers
Panic caused cold chills to rush down my body. Fear disguised itself as anxiety, and within seconds I broke out into a sweat. In that moment, I was convinced I wasn’t going to be okay.
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
Reframing Rejection: The gift in being told “no”
When was the last time you were told “no”? As a two year old, I might have argued with a defiant “yes,” burst into tears, or even thrown myself on the floor, kicking and screaming. But as a