There is a specific moment this past year that changed me forever. But first, the backstory. When loneliness hits, especially as an extrovert, my instinct is to look outward. To reach for people to fill the empty spaces, to meet me where I ache. It ’s deeply innate, and don't get me wrong, I really love the part of me that finds joy in the people around me. It all makes sense, as I (and you) were created for connection. But that system has limits. People cannot always be p

The first thing humanity did after the fall was not rebellion. It was hiding. Adam and Eve didn’t run toward God in anger or defiance. They covered themselves. They hid. They felt shame. Our first act of religion was an attempt to fix ourselves, to manage our exposure, to soften the ache of being seen as we truly were. We reached for fig leaves before we ever reached for mercy. And God saw them. Not only their nakedness, but the fear underneath it. Not only their disobedienc

Potential rests in my hands Like something fragile I might drop or something heavy with no training to carry. They say it kindly Cant wait to see where you go in life As if it’s a room I have yet to enter, a life I haven't quite touched. Where do those words go after they've been recieved? They come home. They sit beside me in the quiet. They ask questions I don’t know how to answer. I carry them like sealed envelopes, full of futures I haven’t yet opened. Some days I want t

The outer courts of the home are slowly flooded with rising water. Very slowly. So slow that the children in the inner courts start to grow taller. Days and months pass by. Time ticks on. Inch by inch, the water rises up the foundation of the home. The water is dense, heavy with the whispered prayers of the mother and father in the inner courts. Days grow long. Hours become tiresome. Yet still, the water rises. No one inside the home notices. They move through their days as i