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A reflection on the year we (almost) adopted.
Just how can we know when we’ve crossed over from self-care into selfish care? The “line” can often seems hazy, and I have a suspicion it’s not the same for all women.
Lately, I’ve been asking God for something that makes me sweat. Each time I say it, it’s like I’m dangling not only me but also my kids out over a precipice—on the edge of disaster.
Our trips not only colored my childhood with magic and memories, but also made me secure in my father’s love. I may not having loved camping—but I was better for it.
My knees hit the floor with a thud, and my face planted in my hands as tears filled my palms. Kneeling next to our dirty laundry, I cried out, “God, why am I always the afterthought?
While summer has its challenges, it also is ripe with possibility, with potential sacred moments and evolving memories. Let’s not miss it…
As a mother who was given her options, I know how pain can wreck a person. Life feels incredibly unfair and impossible sometimes.
While we could see the never-ending struggle as a burden, I want to see it as a gift. A beautiful package that reveals my need for a Savior and keeps me leaning into Him.
I can still feel the pull, the desire to slip back inside my melancholy and stay there. But then I remember the pennies. I feel their presence…
Grace doesn’t always come in pretty packages. Sometimes, it comes as a gift of brokenness.
I will never lose what I learned at the table: To gather regularly. To invite people with varying opinions and stories and perspectives into my life and into my home.