“How are you feelin today? Ok to visit with the kids?” Is the last text I sent you. I can’t bring myself to erase it. Just like I can’t bring myself to erase your number from my phone. It belongs to someone else now. Someone who has no clue how many times I went to…
“You don’t know what it’s like,” she said “you don’t have kids.” She had no idea how those words stung, or maybe she did. She had no idea how badly I wanted her biting words to be untrue, or how hard I was striving toward the dream of becoming a mother. I collected her cruel…
On April 25, 2018, my world imploded and I’m still living in the aftershock. Every day since has felt like wandering through ash and wreckage blindly, arms out to brace a certain fall, feet shuffling to feel my way through the entangling debris. I had returned to work that day after a few days of…
I am the daughter of a pastor. I grew up considering our church a second home. My siblings and I were ushered in the church doors just about every time they were open and even when they weren’t. I attended all the camps and conventions, I went to youth group and Sunday School. I graduated…