Category archives: Healing

When You Ache To Be Held

I haven't written much lately because I've been so tired. (We're expecting another little person the middle of August.) When the kids sleep, I sleep. And I'm very thankful for nap time but it doesn't leave me much room for being creative. But, my mind hasn't stopped pondering, of course. It's always going, especially in the quiet hours of the night. (Maybe this is another reason why I'm so tired.)  When the house is hushed and it's just me and my thoughts with my God, I lay awake for a couple hours, thinking and praying about lots and lots of things. It's funny how you don't know all the things your heart is carrying around till it's plumb silent and you're laying still. The other night, I lay awake wishing God would hold me. Do you ever wish that? That the God of the universe, the On[...]

What I Do When I'm Afraid of Life

Sometimes I get afraid of life. I can't explain all the reasons why, but I just kinda go through these spurts or seasons when I'm more prone to be fearful of things and my heart feels fragile and I have a hard time roping my imagination in.And it's strange because it's something that happens on the inside of me and I'm finding that it has nothing to do with what's going on, on the outside of me. Like, today for instance. Today is the most lovely, breezy, warm, full-of-light kind of day. And there's nothing in my life to be afraid of. At least nothing that I can see. But, for whatever reason, I have a lot of what-ifs running through my head, and before I know it, I'm plumb sceered! Scared of the world. Scared for my kids. Scared of what could happen in my life. Just scared. And I don't like[...]

When It's Hard to Put Your Wounds Away

I dreamed a dream.My friend was in a prison cell. She stood there, eyes looking down, face against the wall, and she was all alone. All her growing up years, her mama was a yeller and when she did something wrong, her mama screamed and came running with those angry eyes and she hit, fists pounding. And this friend, she'd just brace herself, while the blows came, bruising up her back and etching scars into her soul. And my friend's heart grew tough like leather, so she sewed it up to keep the pain from leaking out and the rage from seeping in. Or so she thought. I loved my friend and I missed her so I went down to that prison cell to see if perhaps I could get her out. I found the door was open, just barely open, but there she stayed. So, I went in to that cell and I took her hand. I gently[...]

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