You are a warrior.

You are a warrior.

You are a warrior.
You’ve walked a
tightrope –
steady –
the balance
hope and grief,
joy and pain,
digging in and
letting go.
You’ve trusted.
And you didn’t fall.
Somehow you
found a way to
be present in the
midst of holding
so much.
How did you
manage to dance
on a tightrope?
You’ve learned
and relearned
who you are;
who you are
meant to be,
created to be.
You’ve discovered
both your need
and your strength.
May you see,
dear warrior,
the way
you’ve grown,
the way you’ve
been held.
Hey, skinny jeans.

Hey, skinny jeans.

Hey, skinny jeans.

I know that you have 

felt my absence. 

It’s nothing personal…

I still like you. 

I also like breathing. 

Things have changed 

in the last 10 months 

and what was once 

‘fit like a glove’

is now painful contortion. 

It’s not you. 

It’s me. 

You can’t encompass

the results of

my coping mechanisms.


ice cream, 

sitting in a chair and writing, 

watching movies with the kids,

and lots of snacks, and not an

equal amount of walks,

have been my regulars.

It would be unfair 

to us both 

to ask you to

hold all of me. 

I should tell you, 

I don’t feel badly 

when I pass you over

each day.

I don’t feel guilt or shame 

that my curves no longer fit 

within your seams.

You require that I be less, 

but I am more. 

I’ve changed.

I am stronger than I’ve ever been before.

I’ve seen more and felt more. 

I’ve hurt more. 

I am softer. 

I am more reliant. 

I need more than I thought. 

I need less than I thought.

A paradox like the rest of life. 

Skinny jeans –

It’s not you, 

it’s me. 

You ask me to be less,

but I am more. 


The best thing

The best thing

You are 




Me too.

I am 

really trying

to be there 

for you – 

to be what you need

even though it’s

not my role to fill.


When there are 

tears –

I want to fix it

as if it’s blood, 

not salt.

When you have a  

hard question,  

I want an answer

like I want breath.

When you feel 

like you are 

coming undone

I want to

stitch it all up

and make 

your world 

cozy again.

The thing is 

I don’t have 

the fix, 

the answers,

and I can’t mend myself

or you.

Let’s lean in together.

Let’s lead 

each other to peace. 

Let’s rely on the 

strength that’s

the same 




This is the 

best thing

I can do for you, 

for me. 



I’m struggling to remember

I’m struggling to remember

It’s always been true. 

I am not what I do. 

I am not the sum of 

what I check off 

on the to-do list. 

I’ve always believed that,

even if sometimes I’ve 

not acted like it. 

And I am struggling 

to remember.

Here in this time. 

Here in this space. 

I am not what I do. 

I am not what I accomplish 

in a day.

I am more than 

what my house 

looks like. 

I am above and beyond

what is for dinner. 

I am still a creative person

even if I can’t seem 

to start something 

new right now.

I may not come out

on the other side 

of this having 

checked off boxes 

on my quarantine 

bucket list. 

I’m in some sort of

wrestling match.

I want to do more

and yet

I’m struggling 

to remember

what is true.

Here in this time.

Here in this space.

I need to 

remember who I am, 

remember my roots,

remember what centers me, 

who holds my hand.

I need to 

dig deep.

Show up 

for my family

and friends. 

All I need to do 

is be present.

That’s it –

still means I’ve got

to dig deep.

I will show up.


The long night ahead.

The long night ahead.

She decides between coffee or 

a small supply of the kids’ favorite cereal. 

It’s one or the other on her budget. 

The cereal wins because it is 

about more than just cereal. 

It’s a reminder of 


It’s a reminder to the kids

that she remembers.

It is a small way to 

introduce a bit of joy 

and she will make whatever

sacrifice is necessary

to do just that.

She doesn’t have the 

time or energy 

to keep count –

but this is a regular thing for her.


This or that.

She would love a cup of coffee

right now to get her through 

the long night ahead

as her second job begins.

She pushes back 

the fear,

the worry,

for if she allowed it

room it would run through her

spare energy resources

in 60 minutes flat.

And then,

where would she be?

A thought creeps in but she 

speaks to it and tells it 

to go away. 

She shakes her head to 

get free of it.

There’s no time to address

the gaping wounds in her heart

that bleed so easily. 

So she chases the 

memory away.

It is what it is.

Dreams are a luxury and 

her sleep,

her awake

her sorrow

her joy

her energy 

is for her boys. 

Her every minute is

meet the needs.

Her job is survival.

She sorts through

the bills in the mail

as she logs into the

customer service website.

An envelope that isn’t a bill

sorts itself from the stack.

She rips it open to 

discover a card,

and a gift card 

to her local

grocery store. 

There’s no name.

No one to thank

or feel indebted to. 

Just provision. 

A deep breath –

just what she needs. 

And maybe, just maybe, 

some coffee. 




Are you in the midst of a long night? Reach out – you don’t have to do it alone. Allow others to help you take up your space – to be all that you can be.

Are you in a place where you can leverage where you are to make someone else’s burden lighter? Step into that. Do it for the right reasons and be an encouragement to others.

Show and tell

Show and tell

Please unpack your lunch. 

Put your shoes away. 

I love you. 

Please put your clothes in the dirty clothes hamper.

Use kind words. 

Your family matters most. 

Please tie your shoes. 

Don’t mess with your sister!

Leave your brother alone!

Jesus loves you more than I do. 

These are a sampling of the

reminders I say to my kids 

a few times a day,

okay, well, maybe more than a few – 

just depends on the day!

Can I be honest?

It can be frustrating 

to have to repeat 

myself over and over 

and I can’t help but think –

If they would just listen….


And yet – I am like them. 

I need daily reminders.

Your words matter. 

You have a purpose.

God loves you. 

You are enough –

but you can’t do it all.

You can rest in God’s provision. 

You can let that go. 


I forget.

I get distracted.

I get overwhelmed. 

I get focused on what 

I wish would change. 

I need the reminders

that come through 

a song, 

a flower, 

a leaf, 

a bird, 

a friend, 


my family.

I’m working hard to be

a better listener but 

keep the reminders coming. 

Show and tell me 

what I forget,

what doubt taints,

and lies discolor. 

I need the reminders

of what is true.