New Year, New Day Thoughts: hopes and prayers to be a little more like Jesus.

I’m sitting here, cuddled on the couch in my great grandmother’s quilt, staring out into the snowy world beyond. There’s always something thrilling about turning the calendar to January. We see the social feed filled with thoughts about resolutions and whether or not they will be made. We see the end-of-year thoughts and praises and …

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When the Quiet Girl Speaks: thoughts on identity, comparison, and little “g” gods

Much of my childhood could be represented by the casual question: “why are you so quiet?” As if that had a simple answer. I encountered this question at school, at church, at home when people visited and—generally—anywhere I went. In high school, one of my teachers suggested before the entire class that my “superlative” for …

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Whisper Words: thoughts in the aftermath of tragedy

Lately, it’s been hard to find soul quiet in which to sink down, rest safe. But, even in this unrest, prayer has come more naturally—more needfully—to these dry lips lacking Water. Why need it be the hard that pulls us to God? The hurting church—licking its wounds. The disconsolate life—sucked dry by entertainment. The gun-ravaged …

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The War We Wage: some practical thoughts against anger and self-righteousness

Out of the blue, she spoke the biting words, aimed at me, in front of what felt like a crowd. I didn’t say anything—couldn’t look up from the computer—but in that moment my spirit hardened and my own biting words formed themselves loud and shouting in my mind. And this introverted mouth barely held them …

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The Chronicles of an Unfinished Woman

I am craving vulnerability, folks. Realness. And though my flesh is desperately trying to regenerate itself over these humble bones, I’m dying to be naked and unashamed—baring the soul to showcase the Soul-Maker. Covering up all our real-ness closes off the mind to the things of Christ. Because I am not a perfect Instagram page. …

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These Given Gifts

The wispy page crinkles as it turns, and I smooth it down with a palm. I’ve been slowly trekking through Exodus, a book unexpectedly filled with gifts. It says it here, right in the black print, that God gifted the builders of the temple: He says of a man named Bezalel, “I have filled him with …

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Our Strong Escape

We need a Strong Escape from the harshness of this world. We need a Refuge. I sit on my knees by the window, fighting the wave of panic that is inching up into my stomach (and, slow and steady, into my mind). A surge of nausea makes me swallow hard. I anxiously try to breathe …

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