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Until I Met My Savior

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This might be the most polarizing blog I ever make. And yet, on good Friday… I feel the need to share something so deeply personal that the weight of it not only broke me, but freed me forever. Something I’ve shied away from because it feels impossible to explain and in that, the weight it carried is being left at the cross today. It was a long twenty nine and a half years. As I sat there I said, I said “I’m just waiting for my twenties to be over.” (April 2021) Somehow, deep inside... I knew I needed to just get through my twenties. I was angry. ...that it had to be over. My marriage, my choices, everything I worked for. Over. Four months later my husband died. In a shocking turn of events, I’m not done writing about this (shocker.) Well, whats hard about calling him my husband is…he was also so much more than that. We were together for 10 years, almost all of my twenties he was written into. A year and a half prior to his passing (June 2020), I had to walk out the door of my ...
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Lightning Strikes (Know where to stand)

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When I first went into a Baptist church, I was a little afraid that lightning would strike me as I walked through the doors. So much fear to go, but even more fear to stay home. I spent the following two years, week after week walking in and finding my seat. I stood to worship, and learned to sway. I slowly started to hum the words after over a year. I made friends, joined life groups (and eventually led one!) I studied and learned what was in the Bible. And as they say... to know and love the real Jesus. Not the Jesus I made up in my head, or what I thought I knew. The Jesus I thought I knew was the one where children gathered at his feet and he gave a good feeling to. Despite my past, and in no way placing blame... This was the lens of what I saw everything through until that view broke and I needed a savior.  The Jesus I knew prior could not fix me, in fact that God I knew I was angry at. What changed was when God told me to be angry at him. This permission, I did not understand...
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I Believed Them

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An all expenses paid trip to Disney World. Thats the email I got. Excitement should have embraced me but instead I didn't utter a word to anyone for months. I looked at the email unsure what to make of it. I waited for followup information and received very little. Months went by as the date loomed. Little excitement came as I thought of getting on that plane. Briefly here and there I imagined standing in front of the castle, of the joy on my children's faces, and of feeling like I was doing a "childhood staple." But as I reached the week coming up, panic consumed me. What exactly did I sign up for? Why did I think it was going to be fun? What part of my brain hit submit on this form to go? That part, seemed to have vanquished into nothingness as I stared at an empty suitcase. I started to prepared. Canceling standing appointments because we would be out of town. Excitement from the person on the other line when I explained where we would be going. Then to my surprise...
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Pray with Me

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I sat down. Close, but not too close to the front. Enough to see the eyeballs of the preacher, but far enough away that I could remain anonymous. Intently I listened as he spoke. Listening for the subtle brainwashing or corrupt biblical interpretations that my hyper vigilant mind demanded of me. Listening, praying, and hoping it would not be there. As I sat in suspense, something happened that should be normal for me now, but still always catches me off guard. Instead of finding the reason to run (that I have yet to find here) I noticed myself narrow in on a question he asks that I too, have been deeply engrossed in for weeks. Spending all my time researching in hopes to wrap my head around this question. “How do you feel knowing God loves you enemies?” The pastor spoke.  In my answer I have felt so alone. I have found myself on the outside looking in on dozens of conversations. Each one allowing more and more hurt into my heart. My answer, although it feeling self righteous i...
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You have a(n) (Audio) Book

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On July 31st 2025 my audiobook went live. I was so proud. I worked SO hard on it. Even after publishing my book, I thought I would be able to set it down but I wasn't finished yet. I had to finish it. Close the book on this that consumed me. But all this talk of endings, got me thinking of those beginnings.  All the moments I moved from pain to true self love. It had me wondering if instead of God waiting to give me things I've been praying for, I've actually been given the greatest gift. Time. Time to learn to trust that I AM a person who puts God first. That conviction for a good God was not something I had to convince myself of but a God I got to LOVE.  God showed me how to love myself, by loving me first. Until I understood and fully felt what that meant, I was pouring all my heartache and desperation into loving others and hoping my fogged up and fearful interpretation would be "good enough." So God gave me time, patience and loved me through the process of ...
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I Just Want to Live My Life

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Haven't we all said it at one point in time... I mean sometimes daily. "I just want to live my life" has been one of the most confusing statements for me. What is the balance of healthy boundaries and bat sh*t crazy? Why does it seem the bat sh*t tell you you're crazy and they are normal? And the real million dollar question... are they actually right? Why has my value always been in the hands of another? Who was it on the playground in first grade? What teacher gave me a side eye? And who told me to stop dancing? Most importantly, why did all these voices matter if God just asks us to aim partly at the dart board of ambiguous instruction, intermixed with what feeds our carnal and instant gratification....then hope for the best. That is after all how I lived almost all of my life. Thinking things would work out the way I wanted IF I did everything I possibly could to make that happen. Including loosing myself and becoming others personal saviors trying to convince peo...
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Did I Choose God, Or Did God Choose Me?

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Sometime I wonder why I was given such an awful title. Widow. I wrestled not only with that title but the one of daughter, wife, friend. All these identities attached to me and yet I feel like oil and water. I don't fit any mold and yet I fit them all. A daughter does this, a friend does that. Well. A widow most certainly does not almost divorce her almost late husband. A widow does not battle with her inner voice that wanted autonomy from the person who hurt her when she also wants to be able to love and miss the man he was before he was lost to PTSD and Addiction.  A widow like me wonders if he was always lost though so if that's the case then he was never actually found, ever. To which that means she never knew him. So why did she categorize him as her best friend? A quick to judge person might judge that "best friend" comment as love bombing or Stockholm Syndrome. Someone who's heard me unload my heart of the devastations in our marriage and now I'm claimi...
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