Dragon In You

It hasn’t yet been a year since joining my new church. I can’t help but reflect on where these months have taken my family. In late October of 2025, I dropped off my son at Kids Ministry at that church for the first time and walked away with a prayer in my heart that he would be okay there. I was constantly checking my phone for a text telling me to come pick him up. I took him, with hope that he would behave. My son had a "bad rep" it seemed everywhere we went. I was so used to being called in because he was having a hard time expressing himself appropriately. It was such a lonely and devastating feeling. My best case scenario was that if he could make a friend and play quietly in a corner then it might be ok. I was defeated and lost. My son is incredible and so many people missed out on what he had to offer because they simply did not have the bandwidth or resources needed to help him when he was struggling to communicate and connect.  I can still remember the exact seat I ...

     It's amazing how a song I heard years ago has a whole new meaning now. I've thought about the lyrics a lot... "Next time, I'll be bulletproof..." It got me thinking about estrangement, boundaries, forgiveness and protection... from people. A grueling thought... protection from others. Almost a flippant word sometimes... boundaries... no contact... But what does that look like to someone who still prays daily for those she's "protecting herself from" for them. Praying for them to have peace and healed? Is there an unhealthy attachment in continuing to hold onto people emotionally even when there is no contact? Am I being ridiculous for assuming they may still be unwell? And worse, what do you do when they do reach out and you have to ask yourself "are they still an unsafe person?' How do you reconcile knowing those wounds don't need to be dredged up through a shallow encounter while knowing deep down the forgiveness is there but the ...

      I reached down and put the blanket over my little girl after she was sound asleep. As the covers fell to only reveal her face I thought "her father  will never do this." Grief struck again. As I turned and walked away. Not taking in the softness of her eyelids or the peace on her face of deep restful sleep. I just turned and kept walking. Partly because of the shock of my thought, and also because of the routine of the night. I'm so grateful that the nights are rare that I don't get to do this. And it's met with devastation that my late husband will never know this joy.      This month has been a lot. Without going too much into it, our routine has been disrupted to help someone in need while they recover. This has been a blessing to our family in only ways that God can do. Then two days after this moment with my daughter I was brought into a conversation that if I'm lucky I will never forget.      I sat there eating lunch with a f...

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’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. 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 home for the very...

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...

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...