I’ve written before that ~I write like a woman drowning. I write with a desperation to know and be known, to understand God, to see glory. I write to breathe again.~ I’ve been breathless lately. Mental illness is a riptide on otherwise calm shores. It is the pull of deep waters lulling you further and further from safe and sturdy ground, all at once weightless and buoyant, caressed by the lapping tides. It invites you to surrender, to be carried away in the vastness of the sea. To be small and …
Suffering
Where Is Home to Me?
We cannot have reconciliation without first having truth. I. I climb back into my minivan, fumbling with my keys. My face is blazing, my breath coming in short bursts, fevered and sour on my tongue and in that moment I don’t know whether I want to explode in a stream of expletives or lay my head down on the steering wheel and weep. Maybe both. My mom is waiting in the passenger seat and I relay my story to her, words tumbling out of my mouth blistering with rage. Minutes before I’d stood in …
I’ll Sit With You: An Incourage Post
We’re sitting in the glow of neon, the golden arches casting pale yellow and red on the wet asphalt where we’re parked. I’m sipping iced tea even thought it’s cold and we’re clutched by winter's deep spell, flurries scattering around outside haphazardly lacking the stamina to collect themselves on the ground. The windshield wiper swipes at them randomly streaking the window with frost. I’ve pulled my hat down low over my unwashed hair and my arms wrap across me as if my embrace could …
