Each morning I peruse through a variety of blogs on many different topics, including faith, fitness, and leadership.
I decided I should probably share with you some of my favorite blogs, books, and other cool things I find.
I love my birthday. Always have. It drives me crazy to see people complain about their birthdays and how they’re getting older and blah, blah, blah.
I get to celebrate another year – the fact that I’m still here and alive. I shouldn’t be here and six years ago I had the desire to end my life. But God is bigger and that’s worth celebrating.
As I prepare to turn 25.. ahem.. 32.. I’d love for you to celebrate with me.
Six years ago I sat in my tiny apartment, sleep deprived and broken-hearted, trying to figure out what next step to take in my life. Suicide was looking more and more convenient.
I hadn’t look at pornography in a couple of years. I’d vowed to quit after giving my life to Christ and was determined to make it happen. Until it happened again.
August 24, 2009, I sat with the laptop in hand, borrowed from the church to design the worship slides for the following Sunday. Shame. Disgust. Rage. A deep sadness I couldn’t avoid anymore. It all welled up in me like a volcano ready to erupt. And just like that – the promise I’d made to God to never look at pornography again was broken.
I’m scared. Out. Of. My. Wits.
My phone rings and someone wants to know how they can make a donation to Esther’s House. It rings again and she asks me how she can volunteer. I answer it again and tell a woman struggling with the shame of her sexual abuse we’re not open yet. I spend a couple hours on the phone interviewing potential team members. I pray with a woman over the phone, inviting Jesus to set her free. Then a news reporter calls and wants to do a feature on the ministry.
Then I freak out and ask myself, What is happening? Why do these people want answers from me? What if I don’t know how to answer their questions. What if I totally fail at this leadership thing? What if God is making a huge mistake?
My grandma had a beauty shop in her house when I was growing up. Older ladies from all over town would come and get their hair done while us grandkids ran all over the place. The house was big enough you could always find new places to hide. The beauty shop was the only place in the house you could wash your hair because there were no showers – just bathtubs, which seemed to be ancient in my little mind. They did the trick, though.
Last night I took a trip to Heaven. Okay, not literally like John did when he was hanging out on the island of Patmos and wrote the book of Revelation, but close enough.
And on my recent trip to Heaven, there was wiffle ball.
Last night, a group of us from my new church home of only 5 months, gathered at another member’s house for a high stakes game of wiffle ball and hot dogs.
On a Friday night in my little hometown of Belle (population 1500), you’ll see several cars sitting in the parking lot of the First Christian Church. If you show up around 6:30 there will be a hot dinner, followed by some great worship, fellowship, and deep conversations.
Every person who walks through the doors on Friday night struggles with some kind of life-controlling issue, whether it’s addiction, depression, anxiety, co-dependency, people pleasing, etc. But in the midst of our struggles, we all Celebrate Recovery together.
In some recovery programs you’re taught “Once an addict, always an addict.” What if that’s not true?
Hi, I’m Sundi Jo and I’m a survivor of sexual abuse, too.
I start this letter with an apology. I’m sorry. Sorry sexual abuse is a part of your story. Devastated it was written into the book of your life. I’m sorry someone stole innocence from you without your control. What happened to you isn’t fair.
I want you to read these words carefully. Hear them. Believe them.
What happened to you is not your fault.
Official as of today, the Supreme Court ruled same-sex couples have the right to marry nationwide.
As of today, my Facebook and Twitter feeds have blown up from both Christians and non-Christians sharing their thoughts and opinions on the matter.
I don’t really need to write about it, because a million other blogs are already discussing it, but I do have something to say, so I’ll make it short and sweet.
Are you dealing with the same struggle over and over again, feeling stuck in your desperation?
Perhaps you just keep going back to that addiction. You stay sober for a week, then have a drink on a lonely Saturday night. You’ve been on track with your eating habits, then one bad day sends you into a spiral of emotional eating.
My friend, that’s called bondage. It’s very real.