I am the social media person in our family, so I am going to share a feel-good story for those who have been following our journey. By the way, I am the social media person everywhere I go. It feeds my hunger to tell real and true stories that would be missed if they were not pointed out. Hopefully making the world a little more beautiful and our communities a little bit stronger and more resilient.

When we left Sachse, it was with our heart in pieces. I still cannot quite figure out how things happened, but I do know it is largely because our systems are so over-burdened and there are no rules. Just like what is happening with our Republican Party. Anyway, soccer is now in season and Sachse is doing well. We are so glad. What I love even more, the boys are messaging Jake and letting him know about their season. They know he is proud and forever for them. Maybe they do not know this, so am I. It fills my heart with joy they are doing well and still want us a part of their lives. Our time in Sachse was a beautiful one.

The Girls Director of Solar FC also messaged Jake on New Years wishing him well and checking on him. He wanted him to know he is not forgotten. Y’all, tears are streaming down my face. Jake and I know a thing or two about building a beloved community together. We care about people deeply and want people to love what they are a part of and experience the feeling of excellence with excellent training.

Now that I have had time to reflect, and my bitterness has subsided, I think this distance has made us all grow up. We now can experience a relationship with each other with a different dynamic. No longer coach, player, mentor, mentee, student, etc: We can now be friends. Also, Jake and I are better when we build communities together. Now to get this work on my resume too. We have done this for years, and it matters. We know how to build, know that it might be temporary, can be highjacked, but most of all what we know this now: What God has joined together, no person can separate. (Matt 19:6)

That is the bottom that holds. Love is at the bottom.

I was talking to a friend earlier today about my last post. She’s my Texas-lifelong bestie and is super wise. She’s also my good-trouble friend. I was telling her about the beautiful communities we’ve been a part of in Texas.

My friend said this: you need that feeling of community without having to leave it.

That struck me as true. Why is it we do not know this, really, until it’s over? And these endings have been harsh for a variety of reasons, and we are not the common denominator. The reasons are all different for what causes the crash. My friend got me thinking about why we don’t feel our belonging until we are out.

There is a common denominator, and it is this: the community was lost before we were out.

I remembered what I wrote last night Emmanuel Acho said: we do not value gifts the same. We value the gifts of athletes more than we do an empath.

A lightbulb came on in my head.

Jake and I have complementary gifts. His is math and athletics—it’s his math background that makes him wicked smart at sports. I’m an empath with emotional intelligence that is sorely undervalued, but it’s not when we start forming communities.

In the beginning, most communities start with a desire for relationship. It’s more important than the achieving in the beginning. This is why in the beginning Jake and I are a great team. I do relationships well bc I love connecting with people. It’s more important to me than winning. Jake is an athlete but he knows how to teach the sport. His success has not come from stealing players or cutting corners to win. We are authentic in our gifts.

We value the athlete, but also anyone who achieves at a high level (school does this too) over the relationship. We also are scared of other peoples emotions and will sacrifice people to not have to deal with people who have unregulated emotions.

I realized that we have never belonged. Not truly. We’ve wanted it so much for others, so we strove for others. When achieving became the most important thing, it became exhausting and we lose ourselves. I’m out quicker than Jake bc my gifts are discarded first. This past year we were alone, a lot. And we got attacked.

But we were rooted enough in ourselves to say: Hell, no! We have worked too hard and sacrificed so much. No, you will not treat us this way. We are not people you run over.

We left. As quickly as we came.

God sent us home to a place where we can belong, too. To a people who love us just bc, not for what we can do. It’s life-changing. And we still want to offer our gifts.

This is my epiphany on this Epiphany Day. I think we can create a community that doesn’t have to crash, and we can stay included with relationships flourishing.

Side note: it’s a Friday in January and we are hanging out and relaxing. This is rare. Soccer starts later here. Instead of reading the paper, we are reading our phones.

I was not going to comment on Damar Hamlin. I am picking and choosing when I speak much more carefully now, and I know people who know me well know my silence is not for lack of care or paying attention. However, now I feel called speak because it continues a theme I have been trying to gain attention to: how toxic our dehumanized systems are to our bodies and spirits.

I am so incredibly upset about Damar Hamlin. My heart also immediately went out to everyone on the scene watching him collapse, having to be intubated on the field, and their feeling of powerlessness to the moment. That is trauma.

It is horrifying it took the NFL so long to call the game. The inability of these systems to see athletes as humans is so outrageous. And to not see the other athletes and coaches affected by the fall of an athlete as human as well. No, we cannot go on when one of our friends falls.

Football is known for this and has been known for a long time. The disparity in outrage over an athlete taking a knee in protest of police brutality while continuing to let players who have sexually abused or assaulted people carry on has been on my mind for a long time. We are finally to the point where people are willing to disrupt the status quo. We are way past time for this, but past time is better than never calling it out.

PantSuit Politics inspired this post. I like how Beth said this should give us pause in all work environments. If someone in our office goes down, for whatever reason, we should not be expected to immediately go back to work. Sarah brought up Richard Rohr and prophecy. It is funny how people of faith talk so little of prophecy when scripture is full of prophecy. Rohr says a prophet is not a person foretelling the future; they are people disrupting the status quo with the truth they see in the current moment.

I think about how much I was trying to raise awareness in seminary about the need for higher anthropology in our theology. People are not walking out of church because they do not believe in God anymore; at least, it is not the biggest reason I am hearing from my experience or from what I am reading. People are leaving because they do not believe the church cares about them. Achieving a means to an end is more important than tending to someone who has fallen and needs attention. This is in both conservative and progressive churches. Even those who have the person fall and feel powerless need time to process their emotions too.

Being human is a brutifal experience, and we need to be able to feel all of it. We do not need the shame of being told we are sinners until we find God. God is healing us from the sins that are telling us this. There are so few guarantees in life. We lose everything we love eventually. Being able to be human, and human together, is the only thing that will live on–even after we are gone. We remember people’s words, love, comfort and care. We may also remember when people were not that as well.

As long as there is breath in our bodies we can change. It is okay to change your mind.

I was reading an article on Oscar Romero in seminary. He is known as a hero in the Salvadoran Civil War. A woman who was speaking about him said what she finds most heroic about Romero is not the work he did speaking out against injustice; it is the fact he changed his mind to get there. In the beginning, he was on the side of the empire. He listened to the prophets and changed his mind.

Amy Grant is an artist I grew up listening to. She captured my heart, like so many others when she became a national phenomenon, with her song “Baby, Baby.” Before I left Texas, the Kennedy Center Awards were on and Amy Grant was one of the winners. What a gift to my spirit to listen to people singing her songs and hearing how her life has impacted so many.

You know who else was there?

Michael W. Smith.

MWS is lost in Christian Nationalism and far-right wing politics, but he still shows up for Amy Grant. He stayed when she got divorced too, and the evangelical world did not approve of that at all. Now Amy will be officiating the wedding service for her niece who is gay. That’s a big deal. MWS is not running away still, and she’s not running away from him either. They are a national treasure Christmas concert duo. MWS showed up, played and sang with a bunch of people who are very much opposed to his views at this event, and it was beautiful.

This is not a call for unity when there is none, but there’s something happening that might be transcending this moment we are in.

Wynonna and Ashley Judd did this too. Brandi Carlile even sang at the Judds concert. Wynonna was the headliner as Naomi tragically died by suicide. Wynonna is far-right, the rest singing with her in Naomi’s place are not. People were watching this moment where our politics and religious beliefs are being set aside bc who we are to each other is way more than what we have been taught to believe.

It reminds me of what Dr. Atlas said on Glennon’s podcast: if you can save a relationship, you should. It’s not good for our mental health losing all these relationships that are so important to us.

I feel like this happened for me in Texas. I needed this as much as Kimberlyn did.

I got in the car and turned on Amy Grant essentials. Here are some lyrics that spoke my heart:

She’s got her Father’s Eyes
Her Father’s Eyes
Eyes that find the good in things
When good is not around
Eyes that find the source of help
When help just can’t be found
Eyes full of compassion
Seeing every pain
Knowing what you’re going through
And feeling it the same

This story is going to be long, but it is worth the read if you like love stories.

Wilshire Baptist Church, the place I have been writing about ever since I found it in 2017. Wilshire came to me at the end of one of the worst storms (which has since been topped) of my family’s life. Wilshire is the transition place that became my safe haven after a long night of sorrow. I had been in the wilderness learning to rely on God alone when the house of the Lord felt unsafe. I am convinced now when you start seeking and finding deeper truths, your life will be upended. Be prepared for what follows when you give your prophetic yes to live into the way you know the world can be. But also, if you say yes and the storm does come (it will), there will be a new heaven too. Wilshire was the new heaven on earth for me at this moment.

I came to Wilshire raw from pain in 2017 but also on this brink of a major shift in me that was bringing me so much joy, and I could not stop talking about it. It got so bad, George sent me to seminary just to shut me up. 😉 I kid, I kid, but lets just go with that story because the other one is really messy. I deeply love that messy story, though. It cultivated healing and connection.

I found Wilshire, but Wilshire also found me. There was this synergy between us and we knew the sadness and the loss that felt dominate in our stories before was shifting to life and abundance.

I would not be in the world of faith, actively as a leader, without Wilshire. Wilshire saw something in me that I never even thought to imagine. No one gave me this imagination before. This will make Wilshire a majorly significant place in my life story forever. I am grateful. Wilshire reminds me joy truly does come in the morning (Psalm 30).

After joining Wilshire, which was on our second visit and unplanned, I met with George and Heather for coffee and conversation. I told them I had just read “Searching for Sunday” by Rachel Held Evans and I, too, had been searching for Sunday for over a year. RHE was still alive then. When they told me about Wilshire, they said everything I was longing for and more. I joined us on the spot without even consulting my family. Ha! No regrets. But you know what else is fun about this story? Timothy Peoples was preaching that day too. Who knew we came at the intersection of Wilshire history that was unknown at the time! For those who do not know, Timothy Peoples is the new head pastor of Wilshire Baptist now that George has retired. He is officially on Wilshire staff as of today, even though his first preaching assignment will not be until later this month.

Almost every single week I was at Wilshire I wrote a gratitude post following the service. So writing this post feels like one of the most normal things I have done in a long time. This is familiar. Just like what Kimberlyn said when we entered Sachse: “Familiarity!” Kim Mason even said this to me this morning: Seeing you at church feels so normal, but I know it is not now.

I was not sure I would be able to make it to Wilshire on this trip. It was questionable we were staying until the 1st, but Kimberlyn really wanted to stay and see one more friend before we left. Getting back down here once school and soccer start back up will not be easy. I had no reason to leave, so we stayed. Oh my gosh, I am so glad we did.

Since the second storm, and much much worse storm, I have been scared to go to places with a lot of people—Even if the people have loved me well and not given me any reason to doubt them. Trauma can cloud what is true. I learned this when I started seminary because I had unknown trauma at that time, and it was a long, hard and violent process healing from the wounds that were unknown then. Now I have wounds that I know, and because of that I am hyper-aware and I think critically (as often as I can—I still have my moments of lapse—I am human, after all). I have also been talking to a spiritual advisor. She told me if there is nothing that has happened to prevent me from going places, to keep showing up and just be myself. She told me who I am will attract people and it will be far more rewarding than staying home and not engaging the world again.

Friends, the hugs I got today were so sacred. I cried. I cried during the service too. The music spoke to me; the message spoke to me; and the people who were not there on my last day as an official member of Wilshire in August were there this time. This felt like a real good-bye, but also hello. I am a different person now. The second storm did not defeat me, close, but I found my way back to me—and I know myself even better this time.

Y’all, the work of healing works. Thank God I did all that healing work in seminary, in addition to learning the academics. I just survived almost the worst thing that I thought could happen to my family, and I am still on my feet and showing up to life with a heart full of love. Had I not had Wilshire and Perkins training, I would still be in the thick of healing right now. Now I am going back through my most recent story and finding out love was always the dominant narrative. That storm was just a blip (a significant one that will never be forgotten) in the story. This is what is real. I have no need to fear abandonment again because love will not abandon me; I learned that in the first storm. Now I know I will not abandon me; the second storm taught me this. What matters remains. Praise be to God.

I have more to say, but this is lone enough for one post.

I just read “Homecoming” by Dr. Thema a few days ago. She said life is a series of homecomings, over and over. Once we find home once, it won’t take as long each time we have to return again.

How divine is it that Dennis Smith said this to me this morning: Welcome Home.

Home is where love is.

Circle around friends, I have a cool story to tell. Another narrative where love is taking over where there was once a deep ache.

Today is Kimbo and Lindsay day. The first half we spent doing our own things in solitude.

I went to get my nails done at the Sachse Nail Bar, because this is my place. I went here for the first time when the storm was raging and my body was giving out. This place met me exactly where I needed them to meet me. I remember vividly the massage that brought me to tears because it felt so good. My body had felt so much violence for weeks and this was sweet relief. Emotional abuse is hard on the body. I do not share this for pity or for any other agenda other than to raise awareness that emotional abuse is just as damaging as physical abuse. Therapists and mental health professionals are saying this too.

Anyway, today was so lovely to go feeling a calmness my body has not felt in quite some time. The massage today was just continued goodness as goodness has been flooding my body lately. Praise be to God.

I was going to do clear nails, though, but my technician talked me into a color. So I did red like her nails, but with gold sparkles on top—total enneagram 4 vibe but also a New Years Eve/Day fun look. I am happy she talked me into this. I listen to the professionals. 🙂

Since I was feeling so good after getting my nails done and receiving a massage, I decided to get my hair trimmed too. This is where I really want you to lean in and listen to the story.

I went to a location in Wylie that takes walk-ins, and it is the same place that trimmed my hair right before I left Texas for good. I even had the same woman trim my hair. Glory! It was fun talking about New Years and our plans. Both of us have very relaxed plans. Here is our dialogue.

Her: I am just going to cook and spend time relaxing.
Me: That sounds divine. May 2023 be a year of relaxation and gentleness.
Another voice: A voice from another chair who I cannot see yet: AMEN!
My stylist: Yes! We have had enough bad years. Let 2023 be a good year.

And we all said “Amen!”

That was quite a moment, but it was topped when I stood up after my hair cut was done. I heard:

Lindsay?!

Me: (looks at the person in the other chair in complete astonishment. It was like seeing a ghost because I had not seen this person in years). OH MY GOSH, LYDIA!

It was Lydia Osvald, friends. My Sachse peeps will know who I am talking about. I went to her and we hugged so tightly, even with her in the chair.

Lydia: How are you? How is Oklahoma? I am so sorry for all you have been through. You and your family are dearly loved.

Y’all, I am in tears writing this. This is not a person I expected to see and receive such a wam embrace from. And to hear your pain named, validated, and cared about is everything a hurting heart and spirit needs.

What a gift.

It is like I am experiencing living spirits of my past, present, and future. But they are showing me life has been, is, and will be good.

Praise be to God.

I have been sitting on this post a while. I am learning not to share everything I am learning the minute I learn it; and, also, not everything is meant to be shared. I can try to explain until I am blue in the face certain things and it will not be received. It makes me frustrated and others frustrated the more I keep trying to explain it. That is too much energy from all of us. And I am sorry for all it has cost us not knowing this. But we do not know until we know.

Reflection: I did not learn what I learned because someone started explaining it to me without my asking or seeking this knowledge; the same is true for others. Even worse, what I think I am explaining can come back to me in a way that compounds the hurt I am trying to make known (explain). Vulnerability is risky and is to be shared with caution.

This one will not leave me alone, though, so I am going to write.

Grief teaches us a lot, if we allow ourselves to navigate it.

As a heart person myself, this is a lonely world. We are living in a world that wants everything explained. It does not have to make sense, it just has to be explained. Which is kind of weird and what sent me seeking because I wanted more sense. Also, this is the paradox to what I just said before: we want certain things explained—but not feelings.

I noticed the problem with explaining in church first, but it got worse when my family went through a storm and were seeking comfort—we were met with explanations everywhere we went to get help. Except therapy. Thank God for therapy. I recommend therapy if you feel like you need it. Go get it. I will help you find a good one if you need help. Message me.

I had a realization I shared with Jake Bruehl several nights ago. I have a gift people find intimidating. It is because we are so unfamiliar with what is going on the inside of ourselves. What frustrates me about this is I have to learn things like math, reading, writing, and whatever else I have to learn without complaint. I might kick and scream about it but I will learn it, because at the end of the day I know they matter.

The same is true for how we feel and regulating emotions. Actually, all of the things I mentioned above will not make a hill of beans of difference if we do not learn how to regulate our emotions. That is my expertise. But we dismiss it, because that is the unseen and unmeasured work that may or may not be realized under our watch. But God sees. The future community will see.

This inability to feel or talk about feelings is leading us to a place where we are lacking empathy and understanding for one another. We are not asking questions but making up narratives that may or may not be real and it is affecting relationships.

I have a gift that needs to be added to the others. It is just as important. It is what makes all the others thrive.

I will post this from Nate Postlethwait. I can follow trauma therapists on Instagram so I am still doing okay. Since I talked about breaking patterns (cycles) this morning, how ironic I found this post. I know I am going where the Spirit wants me to go. It is just really hard and lonely.

Right now my daughter and I are in Sachse, Texas. Our home for the last eighteen years and we love it with all our hearts. But it doesn’t erase a major problem that happened that caused us to move, and the problem isn’t a one-off, it’s a pattern. I’m not going into specifics here; my life will address the specifics. But here is what motivates me to not give up.

Facebook post 12-29-2022

I want to go back to these pictures. These two. What a beautiful friendship. These two became close just months before both of their worlds would fall apart in such tragic ways.

But look at them! Choosing love, joy, and life anyway. Rebuilding in the world as it is and they still are finding each other. Praise all that is still good in the universe.

I look at them and I’m inspired. My faith is renewed and I am also resolved to advocate for systemic justice. Both of these tragedies are very different but both could have been prevented had the systems been paying attention to patterns that were happening. And by responding to these patterns by breaking them. (or at least attempting to).

But the thing is, it’s hard to do that when a system is overburdened, understaffed, and fighting for its own life. That makes our lives as individuals less safe. We need people in their jobs understanding the impact doing their job well has on the lives of people. And we need the right people in these jobs.

I also know we need more resources to understand mental health, trauma, and abuse. We also need to work towards ending punishment as a solution. For one, the wrong person will get punished. And second of all, it only compounds the problem when there is a perceived need for one bc it’s not meeting the ache that caused the problem.

This is my path. These are the faces I see as I find my way again. Theologically I can tell you Jesus understands systemic injustice.

I’m listening to Matthew Perry’s memoir. Don’t worry book club, I’m not saying too much. But something he just said made me want to pause and write this down.

Matthew Perry’s early life is rough! So much abandonment and other issues. He decided at 10 years old to only live in his head and never his heart—you can’t be broken there, not yet anyway. No one was going to get near his heart, and he said that to himself at 10-years-old.

In a board meeting I attended shortly before I graduated seminary, we had a guest speaker who said head and heart people will have a hard time together. We needed to prepare for that and devise a plan for when, not if, this happens.The speaker caught me smiling while I was taking the minutes after he made that statement; I apparently smile loudly. He asked if I was head or heart since I responded to this statement (with a smile).

Everyone who knew me in the room: She’s all heart!

It was a funny moment I’ll never forget. I’ve never been called out for smiling before nor felt so seen & known in a public way.

In actuality I am a weird blend of head and heart, but I’m primarily heart, and I do struggle living in this world where most people are stuck in their heads. Every moment is an experience for me. It took me a while to realize not everyone experiences life this way. I was having dust ups with people not understanding why until I got to seminary and finally could see the difference.

This is one reason why some people love systematic theology and some people don’t. I like biblical scholarship better bc it’s bendier and gives me the mess and the heart of our ancestors’ message. This also makes me a good Baptist bc scripture comes first.

But I came around on Systematic theology, when I got paired with the right professor who understood me. So grateful for Dr. KBF! I got to be Lindsay with my theology and hold it loosely. Context, context, context. I’m already ready to write another Credo based on my current lives experience. I wasn’t going to make it in Systematics if we didn’t make a prof change, though. And now I understand better why—head and heart people can really struggle without understanding.

I also can see why people who live mostly in their heads like systematic theology. Systems give us something to live by. Being messy is harder to create some kind of form as to how we should live as Christians. It’s an anchor so we aren’t living in mass chaos with no form.

I get it so much better now looking back.

I wonder what it would be like if we let up on the tension of head and heart people and appreciated both for what they bring to the creation of this thing called life.

For people like me who like the mess, the experience, the ability to make mistakes and try again. And for those who keep telling people like me that we need to anchor somewhere and so we can have some kind of set guidelines. Or we need to choose one two ideas of your thousands.

Back to Matthew Perry. He brings up a good point that I haven’t even heard him expand on yet: he left his heart and got into his head believing he will be safe there at 10 years old. There’s only so many times you can handle abandonment and your heartbreaking. Gosh, I feel that. I was almost there too. But then he says, I can’t be broken in my head—at least not yet.

I think this moment in time we are living in is revealing how hard it is when a narrative falls apart that was believed in so hard in the head as absolute truth. People are reacting and it’s coming from their bodies with suppressed emotions.

Here lies the truth: we can’t avoid heartbreak, even repeated heartbreak.

We can love with all our heart so hard and get so hurt, over and over.
We can also believe so hard and get hurt, over and over.

We need better integration so we can manage our emotions or reactions without suppressing our emotions.

I have this picture hanging in my house. It’s a quote by my beloved Madeleine L’Engle.

I have been hearing people use the phrase: Have a gentle holiday. I like it.

Gentle. What the world needs now is sweet gentleness.

2022–What a year! It has been the worst of times and it has been the best of times for the Bruehls. And we have lived plenty of both in years past, but 2022 was extra.

Now that I am to a point where I am having more good days than bad, I am ready to share what 2022 has taught me personally.

1) My family went through a storm that was rough, and a lot of it unnecessary, that has and will leave a lasting effect on us forever, but…

LOVE followed the storm abundantly, and I am finding we are still being defined by LOVE versus the pain-EVEN in 2022.

2) Our systems are flawed and people are doing the best they can within each system.

Even the most cruel person I experienced in the eye of the storm, I got a taste of what they are dealing with every day and it opened me up as to why this person hardened instead of softened. My compassion grew even in the worst of the times for the person who caused us the most harm. No excuse, but it does explain. I always seek to understand. This is why I am still growing.

3) I am now working for us to be collectively harder on systems and more compassionate toward individuals.

Individuals cannot bear the weight of systemic injustice. This is a call for all of us who work within a system, which is all of us, to do the inner work on ourselves. Find systems, communities that leave room for questions and challenges. Systems, as well as individuals, need to leave room for growth. It is always both/and—individual and collective.

4) Give yourself a break. It is okay to make mistakes. We do not know until we know.

Be with people who understand this and encourage it. We will not grow without mistakes.

5) Systems will make mistakes too.

We talk a lot about personal repentance (although, we only demand it of some) but little about communal repentance.

I feel my Baptist connection is most strongly connected with Walter Rauschenbusch right now (1861-1918). He was adamant we understand why we are Baptist; that our places of worship and rituals are always going to be the thing that will be challenged when we lose our way—he said: “all religious bodies carry with them a good many clinging remnants of their childhood stage;” Rauschenbusch also believed it was time for systems to enter the kingdom of God—systems have to grow up too.

(This is true for all systems. We are trying to operate the United States with the same system set up at the founding, even though we have grown tremendously—in numbers, knowledge, experience, etc. The old ways cannot handle what we are facing now. Time for new wineskins—Scripture still speaks (also why I am Baptist).

6) We are all a mixed bag of good and bad.

I no longer view people as good or bad. I am working to no longer address other peoples’ behavior when trying to get my own point across. I want to address my own behavior; what I can control. I release others to do their own work.

7) You cannot assume to know how people are feeling or what their motives are.

Always ask if you really care to know. Caring to know means seeking to understand with compassion, not judgement or quick fixes. Assuming, even if you are only 1% off, really hurts people.

8. It is okay to be misunderstood. (That is a really big lesson for me!)

9) Learning to respond rather than react has grown my emotional maturity exponentially.

Things are way more complicated than our reactions. Responding brings a calming presence, even when I do not feel calm, to invite conversation and a new way of thinking/being. I cannot force anyone into a new way of thinking/being, but I can be more invitational.

10) While I said the old ways do not work anymore—old systems or old personal habits—I have found that there are some things that are always true. Do not throw everything away!

This season of going back and remembering who I am and where I have been has shown me what needs to go with us when we make changes.

Here is a simple human example that is spiritually transformative, especially on our toughest day: getting out of bed, brushing teeth, and taking a shower. I learned from Dr. Thema these simple acts of taking care of ourselves has a spiritual impact on our bodies. We are telling ourselves through action that we are sacred beings worthy of care and attention.

She is right. The days I do not want to get out of bed, I do these small things to keep moving. These seemingly simple and routine rhythms are profoundly healing when depression and anxiety want to take the reigns.

In Summary: Being human is a beautiful and sacred thing. It is also really hard, and lots of unjust and traumatic things happen to our bodies. Love truly does have the power to overcome even the most horrible atrocity. Trauma is the feeling of powerlessness. When we are given the tools to find where we still have power and can make decisions, we can face the next moment—moment by moment.

It is okay to go slow.

Have a gentle holiday, y’all. I love you. You can love you too (in the words of my dearest friend Teri Colleen).