Why I am no longer afraid to share the gospel

Growing up as Christian, one of the scariest things in my mind was sharing the gospel. It was so awkward talking about heaven and hell with strangers on the street and passing out those little black and white tracks that you basically just dictated to the blinking, mostly nice strangers who stared at you apologetically.

He lived a full life…

I have not experienced much death in my life. But, for the first time, someone closer to me has passed away. Just this last Thursday, my family on my mom’s side, released my grandfather, Papa Ben, to heaven. It was peaceful and full of joy.

If you don’t give up you win

Each morning I’ve begun to wake up with more joy and energy than the last. I’ve started to dream again, to do things with a boldness and strength I haven’t felt in a long time. I thrive on consistency. I realized I’ve got to stop feeling guilty for this.

He is light

Light.
Piercing. Illuminating. Pushing back the shadows.
Erasing. Overcoming. Eradicating the darkness.
Light. It pulsates warmth, empowers hope, penetrates persistently.

When motherhood was not enough

I realized I needed space. I needed to be more than just a mother. I need identity outside of that. I need to admit that motherhood was not the totality and fulfillment of who I was. This was so hard to realize and even declare over myself. I had made motherhood an idol and it it failed me because it wasn’t suppose to be that.

How I started writing

I always loved stories growing up, I mean don’t we all. But I didn’t grow up with much tv until my high school years. So all my elementary years are completely immersed in reading. I swear I’ve read over a thousand books since the age of six years old. I’ve been slowly adding to my Goodreads account over the last decade as I remember books I’ve read. I’m currently at 681. I really do love to read. It why I picked English as my major in college. Books just make sense to me. They always have.