Between the cast of her eyes, the tone of her voice and the way she had touched me as though estimating the size of a horse in hands – it was abundantly clear that my body was . . . wrong. Defective. Obviously not as beautifully made as her daughter’s.
So, thank you for not giving up, thank you for loving us in the darkness, for continuing to stay beside us even when you are exhausted and we are not responding the way you hope we would. Thank you for propping us up when we are falling over, for calling us out when we need it, for wiping our tears, for all that you do. Thank you for being the greatest.
So yes. It may be a messy thing you are facing. It is worth the mess. You are worth the effort. Be brave, reach out, let someone help you heal.
Like sunburnt skin that hurts to the touch, I am Raw. I'm edgy and sore and hiding.
It’s hard to even see God, much less come close enough to Him to enter His courts with praise and palm fronds.
It felt important to speak up. To let them know. To help make sure that no one else feels like they have to walk through this alone.
"This is the kind of stigma that can make people feel unloved by God for struggling with their mental health. This is the kind of stigma that makes people ashamed when their prayers don’t “cure” their depression. This is the kind of stigma that keeps people from reaching out for help when they need it... Continue Reading →