Raise a Hallelujah

I will raise a hallelujah even in the darkness. Even when the chaos descends. Even if my peace gives way to my anxiety. I will raise a hallelujah. He is with me. He's got this. I will keep singing. Hallelujah.

Good Enough: Perfection and Parenting

I know these things, and these things tell me that I’m definitely screwing this up. I’m definitely not Good Enough. And I’ve not been Good Enough for quite a few years. My oldest is 17, and as I think about launching her into adulthood I feel the questions bubble back up and catch in my throat again and again. “Am I doing this right? Am I screwing this up? Is this Good Enough? Am I Good Enough?”

Proud

I’m making a concerted effort to give myself credit. I did this. I fought through this. I lived through this. And you did too.

Stumbling Together in the Right Direction

The idea that our journeys, both with Jesus, and with progress through our mental illness will be a straight and easy line is a falsehood. It is not as easy as deciding to make a change, or do the work, or follow the path. It’s a winding trail, full of obstacles and switchbacks and hairpin turns. And you will stumble. I have. More times than I can count.

Twenty Years a Wife

It hasn’t been easy, these past twenty years. It HAS been beautiful and amazing and some days are perfect. But it has also been a battle. I’d be lying if I tried to sugar coat it.

Hunting for Sunshine

I remember that I need the sun like I need air to breathe. I remember that the darkness makes me feel like I’m crawling within a fog, that I’m living a life I can’t quite recognize. I remember that between the dark and the cold and them impending holiday chaos, I feel as though the world is ending around me.

Breathing Hope

Hope that progress, small and steady, can be made. Hope that can be found in the belief that Jesus hears your cries, and holds you closely. Hope that there is purpose in this journey, and that joy can still exist - both within the journey and on the other side of it. I won’t pretend that the darkness isn’t real. But I will light the candle regardless.

It Bears Repeating

The knowledge that we are not alone in our darkness ignites a tiny spark. It may be a small and distant lighthouse on a far-off shore, but the pinprick of light is visible. And real.

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