“‘Dear God,’ she prayed, ‘let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.’” —Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn Her parents started a major missions organization that impacts thousands
I'm sitting at the breakfast bar in my parents' kitchen. It's 9:30pm and I'm knocking back coconut chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven, courtesy of my mom and her practical love. I'm thinking
I've recently noticed that I have a natural aversion to things I cannot figure out, pin down, hammer out. It stresses me out if I cannot put something in a box; life is so complex,
The black hole of my mind. I can spend hours pondering my future, internalizing anxiety and trying to over-analyze my heart's current state. I can become absorbed in replaying memories, following threads into tomorrow, running
Motto for the summer, courtesy of a fictional children's hero: "Get scared later." I have been blessedly led to an internship in The Suburbs. I have been working with H the Women's Ministry Director. I
Orlando. Jane Doe, the survivor of the Stanford rape case. I read their words today. The world is broken, suffering, a slew of one-after-the-others. ISIS. Another Ebola outbreak. Another mass shooting at a high school.
"Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." -King Solomon. Prov 4:23. I grew up in the mid-2000s, hyper-purity youth group culture of Christianity. Youth group emphasized saving yourself