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doorway to hope
Crossing the threshold of the dining room, an oversized wall clock caught my attention. Its hands had been removed, indicating a suspension of time in this place dedicated to hosting memorable moments. God had brought me here to celebrate life—of that, I felt convinced. Yet, I couldn’t drown out the ominous ticking that sounded in my mind, counting down toward the expiration of my hopes. I’d prayed God would write a love story with my life: this didn’t seem to be it. Still, I clung to the truth of His faithfulness, determined to believe He hadn’t forgotten me.
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the fellowship of suffering
What if life is not about trying to be better? What if what matters is becoming present in the midst of it? I’m mulling over the introductory chapters of my preordered copy of K.J. Ramsey’s new book, This Too Shall Last. It is a raw account of learning to sit with pain and suffering so that grace has room to well up in our weakness and speak louder than our shame. It is a message that has arrived in my life at the odd juxtaposition of facing the pain of perfectionism, the shame of singleness, and the inescapable reality of my identity as a writer. In this book, K.J. weaves…
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vibrant
An earlier post I shared — the first about my struggle to live the single life well — received more comments and feedback than anything else I’ve written in recent memory. That told me something I had already suspected: that I’d touched a nerve, connected with an unmet need. In writer-speak, I may just have landed on my “platform.” There is a weight on this message, an urgency to speak it forth, yet I feel a bit as if I am stumbling around in the dark, stubbing my toes as I grope for the light that was just right there a moment ago. What is it, Lord, that You would…
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hope deferred
One by one, I’ve been flinging open the doors to all the hidden closets in my heart, inviting the Spirit to blow through with His cleansing, invigorating breath. All the doors, that is, except this one. This one has remained tightly latched, painstakingly guarded, deliberately ignored. Until now. I wasn’t ready yet to write on this topic in my 20s, or even in my 30s. I’ve had to endure the long wait, to experience both love and loss, to learn to find hope on the other side of heartbreak. And now — now that I’ve spent time in all these excruciating, unsought valleys — I find myself in a new…
