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Showing posts from February, 2014

Confessions of a good girl

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I was ending my sophomore year of high school when the conversation took place.  Her fair blonde hair was pinned perfectly away from the gentle curve of her neck.  A few curls framed  her face and spiraled down to her shoulders.  She was lovely as she spoke.  The gist of what she said was this, "I don't know if it is a sin or not, but if cutting my hair is going to keep me out of heaven, then I'm not going to do it."

I admired her conviction, her "better safe than sorry" standards.  I'd never really thought of it as a sin, and although my father didn't allow us to cut our hair my mom would trim it straight on occasion.  I began to wonder if it was wrong.

I was always a good girl.  A rule follower.  I worked well within boundaries, as long as I knew what they were.  Without realizing, I began to work hard at not failing.  I wanted to please people, and I wanted to please God.





The school that I went to was rigid on rules.  I believed that if I followe…

Learning love

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It was one of THOSE days.  You know, those days when there is too much laundry piled up, too many crusty dishes in the sink, too many children arguing about too many things.  And then a bare foot makes contact with a polly pocket or a lego or whatever else is laying on the floor.  Yes, one of those.


I felt it stretching thin, my patience and self-control.  I know how it all works to push me to the breaking.  I've been near the precipice too many times to not recognize how close my toes are to the edged.  I'm teetering, I know.  I try to balance, try to breathe, try to calm as I stuff another load into the dryer.  The whole room is hot.

And then I hear a vague slapping of limbs followed by a high pitched scream, and suddenly I'm diving over the edge.

In a fit of frustration and anger I search for the perpetrator.  I'm beyond the, "Please don't hit your sibling; that's not nice" stage.  I've shot up to the, "I don't care who did…

Grace limited

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Somewhere along the way
I gave it limits
I measured my portion
I said yes to so little.
But i am ruined
shattered
desperately needy
And you?
Well, we are all terribly broken.
i reject and am rejected
i am lost
and lost again.
i need more than
what I have allowed.
GRACE. . .
freely given
abundant
merciful
healing
beautiful
endless
yes, forever.
i am ignorant of its truth.
God?
Help me!

The monsters inside of my head

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The chorus is on repeat, and the words get jumbled but still they play their tune throughout me.

The Monster is written as, "I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed/Get along with the voices inside of my head."   Somehow, my mind keeps singing (and it sounds exactly like Rihanna), "I'm friends with the monsters inside of my head, get along with the voices that are killing me dead."  I don't know the rest of the song, but these words stick with me.

We tell ourselves that monsters aren't real, and that there is nothing to be afraid of, but the truth is they are and they have very loud and dangerous voices.  Their words speak into our lives in tones of discouragement.  They mock our good intentions. They tell us we are not good enough, we are weak, we are losers that are incapable of anything meaningful.  They remind us how we have messed up, and we are never going to get it right.  They are liars that point out the facade that everyone is …