Last night I started reading J. P. Moreland’s book Finding Quiet. In it, he discusses his personal battles with both depression and anxiety. This morning, the first thought that entered my brain was “be anxious for nothing.” I knew the verse was in Matthew but I could not remember where, so I grabbed my Kindle... Continue Reading →
And my heart whispers, “Bring me back to the One who loved me most." Tiny feet making giant steps forward, backwards dancing, straight toward her Hell. What happened to time? Gone. Whisked away, a gentle wind breeze. So my heart sobs quietly, “Bring me back to the One who never hurt me." Years passed, eons... Continue Reading →
Dear writers of trauma, You and I both know that writing about trauma can be cathartic in any form, be it fiction or nonfiction, novel or personal essay. We are encouraged, as writers and storytellers and trauma survivors, to “write our truth” so we can heal but there is an underlying occurrence that I don’t... Continue Reading →
Don’t let the midnight swallow you whole and make you forget how beautiful the sunrise is.
“...What year is it?” I asked J. near the beginning of our session as I tried hard to ground myself to reality. I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe. “What year do you think it is?” He, being the therapist that he is, never gives me a straight answer; always opting for me to figure it... Continue Reading →