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For most of my life, anxiety felt like something I needed to silence, outrun, or shame myself for having. But through Internal Family Systems, I’ve begun to understand anxiety not as the whole of me—but as a younger part that learned how to keep me safe. When I approach that part with curiosity, compassion, and God’s presence, something remarkable happens: my body softens, my fear loosens its grip, and I experience a freedom I didn’t know was possible.
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I’ve been deeply hurt—and I’ve hurt others too. Over the years, I’ve carried stories of betrayal, misunderstanding, and quiet relational pain. I’ve wondered if being hurt is a central theme of my life. But I’m not bitter anymore. I’ve done the hard, holy work of forgiveness, the kind that costs something and rebuilds you from the inside out. Forgiveness is complicated. Sometimes it’s a quiet release. Sometimes it’s a trembling surrender. Sometimes it’s a daily decision until your heart catches up with your choice. And sometimes it invites you to revisit old wounds—not to reopen them, but to allow God to bring a different kind of healing. I’m sharing a journaling exercise that has helped me more than I can say. It’s tender, brave work. And I hope it might be a gift to you too. Heal them. Heal me. Set us both free. For more stories and reflections like this, check out my newest e-book, Stories Only Strangers Can See.
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Sometimes, one phone call can change everything. For me, it happened just after high school, during the messy, confusing world of first love. My first boyfriend had cheated, my heart was unsteady, and I didn’t really know what I deserved—or how to receive it. A mutual friend’s conversation set the stage for a young man I had long admired to step forward, and suddenly, everything felt possible. But possibility didn’t mean easy. I argued, I sabotaged, I craved love even in dysfunction. I chose poorly, I hurt people, and I learned the hard way about self-worth, timing, and God’s patient redemption. That one phone call didn’t just alter the course of my relationships—it shaped the trajectory of my life, showing me that even our mistakes can be woven into a story of beauty and grace. Looking back, I see the messiness, the regrets, and the lessons. And I see how God can take the roads we almost took—and the choices we did make—and turn them into something far richer than we ever imagined.
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There’s a photo on my refrigerator that I’ve kept since 2009. It’s me in Liberia, Africa, surrounded by children teaching me how to use a slingshot. I didn’t even realize I was being photographed, and yet when I look at it now, I see pure, unguarded joy—laughing, clapping, completely myself. That joy stands in stark contrast to other moments in my life, when happiness was scolded, silenced, or made to feel wrong. For years, I doubted my right to laugh freely, to be fully me. Now, I live differently. I reclaim my joy daily, letting myself be loud, silly, exuberant, and fully alive. That woman in Liberia—laughing without fear—is still inside me. And she is free. Let this be a reminder: your joy is yours. Your laughter is yours. Your life is yours to live fully, unapologetically, without permission or validation.
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Discover a daily manifesto for women rooted in faith, resilience, and purpose—empowering you to start every day confident and grounded.
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When the kids leave home, your marriage is exposed. Here’s how to strengthen connection, faith, and stability in the empty nest years.
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