I have a tendency to tell stories lavishly. I can be liberal with my facts. For my personality, it’s all about the experience. Unlike some of my friends, I rarely remember the name of a perfume I loved, or the dollar amount of a ridiculously overpriced item. What I remember (and what I cared about) is the experience—it’s the best perfume I ever smelt! It’s the most expensive item I’ve ever seen! Consequently when I tell stories, sometimes they’re just not 100% accurate. It’s not that I meant to lie, but usually I was so focused on the feeling that I didn’t give significance to the facts. Continue reading
One of my greatest purposes in God is courage: to have courage to be myself, but moreso, to give courage to others to truly be themselves. Shame is the ultimate enemy of my purpose, because shame talks badly about one’s core self. As you can imagine, then, shame has been one of my biggest enemies.
I’m glad to say that I’ve conquered a lot of my adolescent shame through the emotional and spiritual healing available in the blood of Jesus. I embarrassed myself thousands of times before I fully got that freedom, … Continue reading
I have decided that instead of trying to be a blogger (and in doing so, fail before I start, since “blogger” is hardly my identity), that I will simply have a blog. So here I am. I am not a blogger. I am a person who has a blog :).
As a person who has a blog, I will use it occasionally to say what’s on my mind. Most often I want to speak to someone whose reaction I can experience in real time, like my husband… or my dog. But there are times when I realize that there is no one around me ready to react to what I am ready to say. I suppose it’s those moments in which having a blog will be handy.
If you read this blog, you must be cool, as I am about to prove to you. Continue reading
In my early teens, I spent a lot of time within the urban Christian community, or what we called “Holy Hiphop.” I am white and was raised in a protective home, where although we had our struggles, we were well provided for, taught Godly morals, and learned to love and accept people from every background.
Throughout my time in the urban community, I perceived an esteemed value placed on having experienced and come through “the school of hard knocks.” Being poor, mistreated or misunderstood—or otherwise given the short end of the stick in life—were praised for what made a man or woman great. The worse your experience, the higher your credentials. Continue reading