Anne Marie Miller

Category: Blogging

  • Practicing Trauma Recovery and Replanting My Feet

    In 2017, I never thought I’d be back in the writing world. I “retired” and went into nursing school and closed down this blog and my public social media. I began that goodbye saying, “This is my final post.” It wasn’t, and so I won’t say that this is my final post. I only have two feet to put in my mouth and I’ve used both of them up.

    The Revival

    In 2018, I decided to report my childhood sexual abuse. Mark Aderholt, the man who sexually abused me in 1996, was arrested and indicted on four felonies: Indecency with a Child: Sexual Contact and Sexual Assault of a Child under 17 years old. While the Tarrant County DA accepted a plea bargain presented by the defense (Aderholt pleaded guilty to a fifth charge: Assault Causing Bodily Injury), I decided that this was the end of that trauma in my life.

    Recovery is a lifelong journey, but I’ve taken my power back. This is over because I spoke the truth and I forgave him. This ending has nothing to do with his cowardly lack of admission but instead my choice to leave it behind. I had the opportunity to face him at his sentencing and read him a victim impact statement which you can read here.

    This event was in the middle of a reckoning in the evangelical church (in my case, the Southern Baptist Convention and it’s foreign missions organization, the International Mission Board) and the #churchtoo movement. It’s been encouraging to see the baby steps they are taking to prevent and heal sexual abuse that’s happened in the church. It’s frustrating that (yet I am grateful for) the mainstream media bringing attention to it after years of voices within the church trying, but it is what it is, nonetheless. A personally meaningful and memorable piece was when Rachel Martin from NPR’s Morning Edition took the time to listen to my story. The last-minute of the interview is a perfect example of holding space for someone in their grief.

    In the journey over the last year and a half, I saw the need for a resource for those who support survivors. I began writing it with the intent to self-publish it, but the publisher of my first book decided to pick this one up. My latest book, Healing Together, A Guide to Supporting Sexual Abuse Survivors, released on October 15, 2019, through Zondervan. You can get a copy here.

    As I did in 2017, I don’t expect to pick up the pen professionally again at this point. I began nursing school in 2017 and after a year hiatus due to the criminal investigation, I intend to finish my BSN at the end of 2023 and continue on to graduate school to work in psychiatric nursing. My current job at a DFW hospital system, which I love, the joy of serving my family and my patients and my focus on my education is more than enough to prevent my hands from being idle.

    Practices in Healing

    Some have asked what therapies and practices I’ve found to be most effective in my healing. I say the word practice because that’s exactly how it works. We practice. Sometimes we master it and sometimes we fail. The point is, we practice. Have grace and be gentle with yourself.

    The below practices and resources are the ones that I’ve personally found to be exceptionally helpful at healing trauma and opening up space for me to find new joy, make daily choices to continue to grow, stay healthy, and not allow the trauma of the past to linger within my body now that the threat is gone. It’s been about nine months of intentionally choosing to move within this flow, and while there are challenging days and events, I’ve found that far more often than not, I feel balanced, calm, and hopeful. Disclaimer: I’m not a doctor or psychologist, so please check with your own health care providers to see what healthy options are available to you in your unique situation.

    Physical Health

    • Eating a completely vegetarian (no meat or fish) diet, consuming fewer animal products (usually humanely curated cheese, butter, and eggs), fewer processed foods (keep in mind, we have a three-year-old so boxed mac and cheese is a staple).
    • Drinking a lot of water. A LOT. No soda or alcohol, and coffee as needed but only until noon.
    • Going to bed ideally by 9 pm (10 pm at the latest) and waking up by 5:30 am (6:30 am at the latest) even on weekends. In either case, listening to my body and giving it grace for the exceptions is just as important.
    • Exercising in some capacity once or twice a day with slow-paced exercise. For me, it’s been yoga, mostly power yoga (yoga combined with HITT and calisthenics) for 30 minutes a day (and if I can’t do that, at least 10 in the morning or before bed). I also try walking the dogs every night after Charlotte goes to bed but when it’s cold or windy, Tim graciously walks them. Also, stretching every morning and before bed.
    • Practicing deep breathing in the morning, at lunch, before bed, and as needed.
    • Being more intentional about my posture. This tiny act helps breathing, the energy I put out into the space around me, and my confidence. Who knew?

    Mental and Emotional Health

    Spiritual and Relational Health

    Out of all the health compartments, this is the one I struggle with the most. I’m introverted so I refuel alone, and after working a full day with 20-30 patients and coworkers, even on the best of days (most of them!) I am mentally fulfilled and also exhausted. Even with my introvertedness, I prefer face-to-face contact, and I’m horrible at responding to email and texts. I communicate with my best friends (who don’t live in DFW) on Snapchat just so we can use video instead of texting.

    With that disclosure, here are some goals I’ve set for myself and that I’m intentionally taking baby steps to accomplish. Remember: practice.

    • I want to join interest groups. There are a few health collectives/co-ops and yoga and hiking groups I’m trying to get the courage to show up to and practice in a group. I’ve gone to a few meetings of a DFW group that works to communicate the research behind psychedelics to people who’ve never looked at these medications in a therapeutic way. As a future psychiatric nurse practitioner hoping to help survivors of trauma, this area (if you can’t tell) is incredibly interesting to me. The group also exists to educate those who choose to use psychedelics about their risks and best practices so that if someone chooses to use these substances, they do so in an informed way. To be clear: the group does not encourage or promote the use of these medications, it is not a place to buy or sell them and anyone who joins with the intent or expression to do so is not allowed to participate. It’s an incredibly diverse group of professionals of all ages, students, city leaders, law enforcement, and religious leaders.
    • I’ve started to explore the desire (it’s a very, very, very small desire) to start attending church again. The place where Charlotte goes to preschool is a part of a UMC church close to where we live, and we went to a couple of services there when she had events during the Sunday services. Maybe. Maybe.
    • I’m preparing (it’s on my bedside table) to read some classic Christian literature that I used to find encouraging in the past. Maybe I’ll even pick up a Bible again. Part of this effort, as well as the desire to explore going to church, is to cautiously open up the doors for Charlotte to begin to understand the importance of faith in her life. I’m not sure what this looks like yet, but for now, being open to the idea is a scary step.

    Being mindful and aware of every day and every choice has reshaped my heart’s desire into unplugging from online spaces as my norm. And like in 2017, I plan on being less engaged online and more engaged in the tangible interactions in front of me (not that there is anything wrong or bad about choosing to be engaged online; that’s an entirely valid place to exist and helps many, many people). I’ll still pop in from time to time, and I’m encouraged by rekindling old friendships and forming new friendships over the last couple of years.

    I think that’s it for now. I’ve been writing this over a series of my “uninterrupted 30-minute lunch breaks” and I need to go back to work. I’ll probably be back some time. Probably. Maybe. We’ll see.

    Regardless, I’m grateful. Thank you.

    Postscript: More About Healing Together

    Here’s the back copy of Healing Together, so you can see if it’s a helpful resource for you. I’m pretty proud of it, to be honest. The work I’ve done in nursing school researching and practicing trauma-informed methodologies proved to be extremely useful in this book. It’s not a picture-perfect “I went through trauma. I healed. Jesus saved me. He’ll save you too” kind of book. My beliefs are changing within where they are rooted and “healing” is a big word with a lot of nuanced meaning. It’s my goal that the book informs you about what trauma does to our bodies and that it offers some gentle suggestions for walking alongside someone who’s been abused.

    Sex is such an intimate topic historically wrapped in shame and when someone shares they were sexually abused, we may not know how to respond.

    With recent #MeToo and #ChurchToo movements, we are learning just how many men, women, boys, and girls have suffered sexual abuse at the hands of a trusted person, often family members or leaders in the church. Sexual abuse is rampant in modern society and now–sometimes many years later–sexual abuse survivors are sharing their stories.

    Anne Marie Miller is a survivor of childhood clergy sexual abuse and has shared her journey toward healing with audiences all over the world. After speaking with thousands of survivors and their loved ones, she saw the need for a fundamental and practical guide for helping supporters of sexual abuse survivors understand the basics of abuse, trauma, healing, and hope. Drawing from her own experience as a survivor and evidence-based research, Anne addresses these questions and more in Healing Together:

    What is sexual abuse?

    How can I help survivors?

    Who are predators and how do they groom victims?

    How does trauma affect survivors?

    What happens when someone doesn’t remember the details of their abuse?

    How does abuse wound the physical, emotional, and spiritual health of people who have been abused?

    When and how should authorities be contacted?

    How do you talk to your children about sexual abuse?

    What are the warning signs of abuse?

    Is healing possible?

    Whether you are a spouse, a family member, a friend, or a church leader looking for easy-to-navigate resources to understand and support sexual abuse survivors, you’ll find answers and hope in these pages.

    You can get a copy of Healing Together: A Guide to Supporting Sexual Abuse Survivors right here or if you’re looking for a bulk discount for 5+ books @ $5.00 a book, you can click right over here and use the discount code “HEALING” to get that price.

  • Practical Steps You Can Take to Heal from Trauma and PTSD

    Practical Steps You Can Take to Heal from Trauma and PTSD

    As we get closer to the release of Healing Together: A Guide for Helping Sexual Abuse Survivors, I thought I’d share some practical steps I’ve found to be helpful as I’ve spent the last year and a half healing through the revival of complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) that bulldozed me after reporting my childhood clergy sexual abuse (you can read my story here, here, here, and here, and my victim impact statement I read to Mark Aderholt, the man who abused me, at his sentencing just a couple of months ago.

    Trauma affects us in every way: physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and relationally. Over the next few days, I’ll be posting some practical steps survivors can take to help begin healing in every area of life.

    Why Healing Is Overwhelming

    I’ve broken these down into those five areas, and I’m intentionally labeling them each as individual “selves,” i.e, physical self, emotional self, etcetera. Yes, trauma damages a person holistically, in every system, but so frequently survivors, as a subconscious survival mechanism, disassociate and compartmentalize these various parts of who we are. Part of recovery is integrating them back together.

    If we’re not in touch with our whole “self” yet, trying to heal a little in every area all at once can get messy and confusing and we can feel defeated. Have you ever woke up on a particularly motivated day and thought, “Alright. This is it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it all and do it now. I’m tired of being tired all the time.”

    Maybe you started eating healthy, made that counseling appointment, signed up for that book club and to run that 5k. You told your boss you can work more hours, you bought a planner, made a vision board, and reorganized your pantry.

    We try to do all these things at once so we can feel like our pre-trauma selves. But, let’s say your mental health isn’t doing so great so as you take on all these engaging tasks, your mind gets exhausted and overwhelmed. It’s a quick way to burn out (and when I burn out, it’s easy to ruminate on what a failure I perceive myself to be).

    I think the key is going slow, evaluating what areas we’re most affected in, affirming that it’s okay to be exactly where you are, and using our strengths as we take one. step. at. a. time. This will help us strengthen our weaker selves so we have the margin to continue healing and functioning in everyday life.

    In Healing Together, I write:

    The body of a survivor suffers great harm. It was the body that was violated first. In any case, another person took what God created for his good and his glory and tarnished it with evil. God does not hold the survivor responsible for what happened to their body, and he sees him or her as pure. He grieves over the pain that was caused.

    To survive the abuse physically and emotionally, survivors
    often disassociate or disconnect from sensations in their bodies.
    For survivors, being mindful and present in our bodies after
    abuse has occurred is a difficult task and can cause anxiety.

    Reconnecting with our bodies requires a lot of hard work, and
    usually professional help.

    Anne Marie Miller, Healing Together: A Guide for Supporting Sexual Abuse Survivors

    Three things I have found tremendously helpful as I’ve tried to learn how to care for my physical self are:

    • Drink water. All the time. Pee twenty times a day. This is so important for your blood pH and electrolyte balance. I don’t like water. Find a way that you can tolerate if you’re like me. Drink, drink, drink. If I fill up my to-go coffee thermos before bed and keep it on my bathroom counter, it reminds me to guzzle down a couple of cups of water first thing in the morning, and then I use the thermos for my coffee before heading out the door.
    • Feed my gut nutritious food, and not feel like a failure when I eat the 682 calorie chocolate chip cookie at Panera.

      (I’m not going to lie to you, so let’s get the elephant out first. I LOVE COOKIES. I love them more than most things in my life. They are my biggest dopamine providers. Panera has an almost 700 calorie cookie that is meant to be shared. I have eaten two of them in one sitting. Obviously, I know this should not be the norm and thankfully, I intentionally do not go to Panera often because I know that I will regret my choices.)

      I try and live by the 80/20 rule. 80% of my food is whole food (as close to the original way it was made), is plant-based (I am 100% vegetarian meaning no fish, white meat, red meat, any meat), and is colorful. Eat every color of the rainbow in your food every day. Lately, I’ve been trying to find organic items that I can reasonably afford, and avoiding any built-in seasonings (extra preservatives and sodium) or extra ingredients (especially things with the word “isolate” in them). I find when I eat this way, I feel amazing and actually crave more nutritious food.

      Notice that I didn’t say “good” food or “bad” food here. Food does not have an intrinsic moral value. The key is eating nutritious food. It requires more time, more effort, more planning, more cooking, and I understand that all those things are hard to even want to do when everything else in our body is telling us to celebrate when we get out of bed and shower some days (which is also totally okay and you have permission to do).

      Here, I’ve found there is a paradoxical effect. The more time I take with grocery shopping, with reading the ingredients, with washing and prepping healthy things on Sunday evening (FWIW: that’s my worship service; you cannot immerse yourself in the colors and smells of God’s creation without being enamored. I am more grateful in my spirit when cutting up fresh cilantro than trying to “pray” the way I was taught growing up). I find I have more time during the week to eat, enjoy, have healthy options (less regret), and that gives me space to walk in my week knowing my family and I will be fed, and my physical self that needs healing is taking in food that is meant to flood my blood with vitamins and nutrients which heal damaged cells, keep my gut healthy and my immunity strong (usually not the case when we’re our system is producing extra of the stress hormone cortisol). I have more energy. I just feel better.

    Some of the foods and beverages I’ve fallen in love with in this season are:

    • multicolored carrots
    • multicolored cauliflower
    • radishes
    • all the berries, apples, peaches, bananas (never go anywhere without a banana), cucumbers, sweet peppers, grapes (cotton candy grapes anybody?)
    • strawberry Caprese salads (baby kale, strawberries, spinach, mozzarella cheese freshly torn, basil, tomatoes, loaded with flax and chia seeds and nuts with a little balsamic glaze on the side).
    • oatmeal with fresh or baked fruit and loads of cinnamon
    • columbian coffee with oat milk creamer
    • using veggie or lentil pasta (green lentil is the best) and mashed up chickpeas for the “meat” vibe in spaghetti sauce
    • mixed, whole grain rice stir-fried with whatever veggies I have chopped up, and baked tofu (it’s not gross, I promise)
    • heaps of fresh fruit and vegetables cut up and ready to eat in the fridge and on the counter
    • steamable plain veggies: super cheap, super easy, super good for you
    • one of my easiest go-to meals is microwaved brown rice topped with microwaved broccoli with whatever beans and sometimes microwaved sweet potato chunks. 10 minutes or so, $4-$5, and gives us at least 3-5 servings.
    • 92% dark chocolate in the freezer
    • mashed avocado with hard-boiled egg (I recommend these if you occasionally eat egg since they’re more humane than most) on whole-grain toast (bonus if you can find one with seeds. My favorite is a Texas brand
    • Kombucha and other teas
    • Some of my 20% foods are Kashi’s Go Love chocolate granola, Morning Star Popcorn “chicken,” various meat-free pizzas (Amy’s cheese or one with a cauliflower crust), pad Thai with vegan Thai sauce, and quesadillas (made with whole wheat tortillas, vegetarian black refried beans, a teeny tiny sprinkle of cheese, microwaved and then grilled in a pan, topped with corn, sliced sweet peppers, guac, and plain almond milk yogurt in lieu of sour cream).
    • One other physical practice I’ve been slowly integrating is moving more. I don’t want to call it “exercise” because “exercise” conjures up pictures of gyms and people running outside and sweating and I am not that girl. I have tried to be that girl. I am not that girl.

      Introverted me who is extremely uncomfortable exercising in front of people (a trait common amongst sexual abuse survivors) found that intentionally waking up early before my family (all the experts are right: the more you do it, the more you want to), doing yoga all by myself and watching the sun rise is immensely therapeutic. Yes, that means sometimes I’m awake at 5:15 am but it has been worth it. Amazon Prime, as well as YouTube, have free yoga programs from beginner all the way to expert and some integrate HIIT training and others are gentle and modified for people with injuries. You can always do yoga later, or some days not at all. At night, after our daughter is in bed, I take the dogs out for 20-30 minutes walking around in the quiet evening (pepper spray in hand because of hypervigilance).

      I try to do both of these things at least five times a week. I find I want to do them more. It’s the weirdest thing. Also, some days my body or mind says I need to get more rest, maybe not wake up early at all, forego the official “work out” and I’m learning to respect what I need for each day without judgment.

      I’ve had to remind myself none of this is meant for weight loss. It’s not a way to drop a dress size before your cousin’s wedding or the holidays. If I look at it as taking very small steps to take care of me, the pressure is off. Go at your own pace. Do what’s reasonable for you. Eat 50/50. Eat a vegetable. Walk once a week. Run a marathon. Do whatever is right for you at this moment and don’t take on someone else’s journey as your own.

    Unexpected Gifts

    What’s surprised me with doing this over the last few months is how much I have slowed down and take time to find beauty around me. I have been awed by little flowers, immersed in the flavor of a blackberry, felt the tingle in my mouth from a kombucha, melted in a hot cup of perfectly balanced creamy coffee, saved frogs and lizards from their demise as potential dog treats on walks, and learned about what stars are shining bright on my walks.

    I hope somehow these ideas that I’ve adopted into my daily habits can somehow be helpful to you. Everyone is different. Everyone needs different things. Let this list be a starting point for you. Maybe it can give you some ideas to adopt in a way that is right for your healing.

    Find something your body needs, give your body that thing and celebrate that you are becoming healthier with each cucumber, each attempt at downward-facing dog, or drinking that extra cup of water today.

    As my counselor says: You got this.

    Next up is Part 2: Mental Health.

  • How Do You Begin the End?

    This is my final post.

    It’s been a year or so since I took a break from the Interwebs–away from writing online, from traveling and speaking, from Tweeting and Facebooking and Snapchatting and the like. Pregnancy was such a lovely season, and truly a miracle. Our baby girl was born perfectly happy and healthy in July 2016. She’s almost 10 months old now, trying to scoot around the house on her bottom (unsuccessfully), with 8 teeth she definitely earned the right to show off. She’s coming into her own, a little drama queen human who I can’t believe just a year ago was the size of a cantaloupe, tucked away in utero, kicking my bladder, my kidneys, and everything in between.

    When I was in high school, I wanted to get a Ph.D. in psychology and become a doctor of sorts, a clinical psychologist. Life didn’t head down that road like I expected, and instead, I ended up working at churches, writing a few books, and traveling all over the world to share stories. In 2010, after my divorce, I considered going to medical school but knew I would likely have to sacrifice having a family to start a career in medicine at the age of 30. Three years later, I met and married my second husbandTim. Medicine as a career was still ever on my mind, but there were books to write and events to speak at. Then sweet baby girl came along.

    When my most recent book released a year ago, I had a feeling it would be the last. I was still under contract to write another one with Baker, but nothing surfaced in my heart that I had to write about. I waited, they waited, and still, nothing came.

    Why put more words out into the world that’s overwhelmed by words, when nothing needs to be said?

    I graciously asked if I could exit my contract and they graciously agreed.

    The season of life when I am an author, a speaker, a blogger–the season when I knew something needed to be said and I was sure I was the one to say it–is over. There have been moments of grief, of saying goodbye, but overall, it has been the most peaceful, sure, and easiest transition I’ve ever made.

    I’m heading into a new season now, and have been for a while. I’m back in school working toward a degree in the medical field–nursing? Dietician? Time will tell. I realize that’s pretty far off from where I started ten years ago, but I think I needed to learn more about God, about people, and about myself to end up here. We’re back in Dallas, surrounded by family. Tim’s working in videography and I split my time between school and serving in patient care at a hospital as a technician, and as a nutrition consultant/Associate Certified Diabetes Educator.

    I’m thrilled. It’s not perfect, but it’s bliss. And I have to say: there is a freedom in ending a career in professional Christendom.

    Thank you.

    Thank you for allowing me to speak into your life over the last twelve (!!) years of blogging. Thank you for encouraging me, supporting me, buying books, giving literally millions of dollars to very worthy organizations. Thank you for sponsoring Compassion kids, for praying for me, for us, and sharing your stories.

    There’s a commonly asked question: If you had to say one thing, to leave people with one thought, what would it be? 

    I’d have to say this:

    • It’s okay to not be okay.
    • It’s okay to be different, to not fit in.
    • It’s okay to quit and begin again (and again and again and again).
    • You are worth so much more than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams.
    • Sometimes the quietest lives love the loudest.

    I guess that’s five things, so I’ll ask for your forgiveness and thank you for humoring me one last time.

    It’s been a gift. You’ve been a gift. You are a gift.

    With love,
    Anne Marie Miller

  • Because Free Books are Good and Because Friends are Better

    In a couple of weeks (October 7 to be exact) my latest book, Lean on Me: Finding Intentional, Vulnerable and Consistent Community, will ship and be placed on book shelves and will hopefully, hopefully, hopefully help people think about and relate in community in very Jesus-like ways.

    What’s the book about? Well, when I started doing the writing/speaking/blogging thing, life was pretty great. I got to do what I dreamed of for a living, I met fascinating people, I traveled the world, I spoke at conferences…I felt known. 

    Anne Miller at NYWC in Nashville

    I know many people who strive to live that life thinking a conference invite or a book contract or numbers on a dashboard will somehow make them whole and happy. I won’t lie – on the surface, those things did bring me a lot of happiness. But they did not bring me joy or wholeness. Yet, because I found so much of my identity in them, my foundation wasn’t built on Christ and that would prove to have devastating effects later.

    In 2010, right before my book Permission to Speak Freely: Essays and Art on Fear, Confession and Grace shipped, everything changed. Words were spoken to me that still haunt the deepest part of my heart. My marriage ended. Grief flooded in and I was left wondering if life was even worth living.

    If you would have asked me in my “top of my game” days if I had community, I would have answered with a resounding “YES!” My phone was full of people I could contact, my inbox was full of encouraging letters from strangers. But when this crisis hit my life, I was faced with two distinct choices: run away and start over again or lean into my community and ask for help.

    I ran.

    It was a huge mistake and as I sat alone in a hotel room on a work trip, I reached out to a friend who told me to ask a handful of people to commit to being my friend for 18 months. I felt like I was in second grade and about to hand out notes to people:

    “Do you like me? Will you like me? Circle One: Yes or No”

    It was the most awkward ask I’ve ever made, but I asked 12 people to let me lean on them. I was a mess. I needed direction. I needed support. I needed a place to live.

    10 wrote back and said yes.

    The following 18 months were not easy. They were full of growing pains and tears and moments of joy and craziness. But that community committed to me and I healed through my grief. God spoke to me through them in unexplainable ways.

    I knew the only way to repay them was to share the things they taught me about genuine community.

    Lean on Me is just that.

    It is not a how-to have community or what to do. It simply asks where you see yourself in community and tells the story of a community who loved a girl (who didn’t always deserve it or even want it) well. Jesus taught through stories and I know the way my community loved me (and in turn, the way Tim and I love others now) is not only inspiring, it’s actionable.

    Lean on Me Anne Marie Miller

    If you pre-order Lean on Me: Finding Intentional, Vulnerable and Consistent Community, the folks at Thomas Nelson will send you my book Permission to Speak Freely: Essays and Art on Fear, Confession and Grace as an eBook for free. Just send your order confirmation to wpubpreorders@gmail.com.

    You can pre-order Lean on Me: Finding Intentional, Vulnerable and Consistent Community as a paperback and as an eBook.

    If you want to read a few sample chapters of Lean on Me, you can do that here.

    I hope both of these books encourage you to be yourself, love others, and allow others to love you.

    We need each other and we get to carry each other.

    Much love,

    Anne Marie Miller

    Lean on Me Anne Marie Miller Committment

  • Blogging Isn’t What it Used to Be…And that’s Okay.

    Several times a week, I log into the dashboard of my blog and think I have something to write.

    • I could write about true freedom, and how that means willingly accepting my identity as a slave to Christ, which doesn’t bring oppression, but true joy.
    • I could write about how I think the voice of the peacemakers is being shut down because the voice of the cynics is so loud…and the peacemakers know there’s really no point in fighting a virtual battle of words.
    • I could write about all the new stuff I’m learning about anxiety disorders, OCD, trauma and grief or about the theology of subordinate & ultimate purposes in moral ethics.

    But I don’t.

    It’s not that I can’t; as if I have some writer’s block and I keep pressing delete and thinking my writing isn’t good enough.

    It’s not because I’m scared of what people will think about what I write.

    It’s not even that I don’t want to.

    Or that I don’t have time.

    None of those things are true.

    Photo Credit: Thomas Lieser

    Lately, I’m full of words and inspiration, most of which are being poured into the channels of a launching “Lean on Me” which comes out this October. Or into my other-new book that will come out next year. It flows into my husband as he goes through some exciting ministry changes, and into some friends over coffee or a glass of wine. I give these words to the trees and the sky when I go on walks with my dog, or sometimes they only rattle around in my head until they break into little digestible pieces I can stomach. These words fuel me as I straighten up our kitchen or hang up the laundry (who am I kidding? Tim so graciously does the laundry. I hate doing laundry.) 

    A few years ago I would have wondered if you missed me.

    Maybe I still do a tiny bit, but most days this blog is so far from any of my normative thinking. Only when I see the bookmark to my dashboard to log in, I log in. And that’s really just to delete any spam comments.

    I want to talk to you. I remember how, almost ten years ago, a small group of fifty or a hundred people would come here and listen about me putting up Christmas lights or running from tornadoes or wrestling through tithing as an automatic deduction from my church-staff paycheck. Then that number grew into the tens of thousands and the conversation changed and I began to love those numbers much more than I should have. And then, life changes pounced and left me wounded and I took everything off of the Internet for a couple of years and that huge audience I was so enamored with dwindled back down to a handful of people.

    But that’s okay.

    It’s taken a year or so of being truly back “online” for me to accept the new Web 2.0. Or is it 3.0 now? It’s not even about the Internet, is it? Whatever it is – whatever this is – I’m okay with it.

    I’m not saying goodbye to blogging, and I’m certainly not bidding adieu to writing. I’m embracing how different it is now, both externally in how social networking has changed in the last decade and internally, how I’ve changed in the last decade.

    I’m giving myself permission to keep things close, as Mary did, pondering them in her heart. 

    My heart used to be online, but now it’s found in quiet moments with trusted friends, in solitude, and in quietness and trust.

    That is where I find rest.

    That is where I find Him.

     

  • For When You Feel Overwhelmed and For When You Feel Small

    First let me begin by saying, wow, you guys. The flu is a terrible, terrible thing.

    I thought I caught the flu the day after New Years. I was sick a few days, then I was okay for a couple.

    Then sick a few more days, and fine for the next four.

    Last Sunday night, my body hurt so terribly and I felt just so awful, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I set up a doctor’s appointment. I was running a low fever and my flu test was negative. My doctor said I had pneumonia. My chest rattled when I breathed and I couldn’t stop coughing. Antibiotics, make-me-loopy cough syrup, good to go.

    I woke up Tuesday afternoon and could not stop shaking. Not shivering. Shaking. I took my temperature. 101. 30 minutes later, I felt even worse. I took my temperature again. 103.3. I was on Advil and my temperature was still 103.3? A phone call later, I was on my way to the ER where I learned I didn’t have pneumonia, but I did have the flu.

    This is really me at the ER. Super awesome mask!
    This is really me at the ER. Super awesome mask!

    I don’t remember much of last week, but I think I’m on the mend.

    I’ve never had the flu before (and I will be getting flu shots from now on) so I had no idea something could make me stay still the way it did. I didn’t touch my computer all week. All I could do was think.

    Thinking for a week is not necessarily a good thing for me. I tend to get wrapped up in layers of self-doubt, self-pity, and even some bitterness and jealousy. Even if I try to refocus my thoughts on what’s good, my tendency to reflect in everything I’ve done wrong or that I’m not doing as well as I’d like takes over.

    I was tired enough because of the flu, and with my mental defenses destroyed, I found myself in a big puddle of giving up.

    I wanted to give up.

    No, I want to give up.

    I still do.

    One thing you don’t want to do while sweating through all of your clothing because of a fever is go online. If you do, and if you’re like me, you’ll end up feeling like everyone has their life put together. They hustle and you don’t want to even get up to get a Powerade, much less do any work. They post about the great people they wine and dine with, and you forget to find gratitude for the friends who rushed to the hospital to pray with you, who brought you meals and medicine.

    You feel so overwhelmed and you feel so small all at the same time.

    I don’t know if you’re like me, but I tend to have so much to do…I try and prove myself or reinvent myself or tell myself that if I do this or that maybe-just-maybe I’ll feel like I’ve made a difference, that I’m worth something to someone, that I’m contributing whatever it is that God gave me to contribute to this world. I preach a message that tells people about the beauty of simply being, about rest and about health, yet if I think about my to-do list, I feel sick to my stomach. I feel small and overwhelmed and because I’m not as popular as this person or because some other person who has an important title doesn’t email me back, that somehow I’m a failure.

    THAT IS JUST NOT TRUE.

    Maybe you’re like me (I can empathize). You work so hard to write, to share, to be a mom or a dad or a wife or a husband or a good friend and your heart burns with such fury to do just one thing that makes a difference. All the while every message you take in from the outside world, from the voices you respect (and maybe the ones people tell you that you should respect) tells you it’s not enough. If it was enough, you’d have that viral blog post, that book deal, or just one single comment or message about that super-important thing you shared with the world. You feel small and overwhelmed.

    This – by all industry standards – is not a good blog post to write. I have no answers for you. No three-steps to finding peace in chaos or security where you feel frail.

    This is just me saying (to the both of us):

    YOU are NOT alone in this.

    The chaos you feel is a lie from Satan that wants to draw you away from your identity in Christ.

    It is not your job to save the world.

    It is not your job to even save one single person.

    It is your job to delight and worship your creator.

    To walk the path he set for you, even if it’s not glamorous, or exciting, or what you expected.

    Rejoice in Him.

    Cry out to Him.

    Strangely, as we become more desperate for God, that sense of desperateness leads us to great peace.

  • We Need Your Story! The Un-Fine is God Beautiful

    A few months ago, sweet Lisa-Jo Baker sent me an email asking to share my story that would be compiled with other women’s stories for the (in)Courage (in)RL 2014 – (in) Real Life Conference.

    Why does anyone need to hear my story? 

    In filming for this, I got to meet so many women. Hear so many stories. I needed to hear theirs. They needed to hear mine.

    Who knew?

    Here’s the thing. We need to hear YOUR story.

     

    The conference is free. You don’t have to travel anywhere. Get your girls and snuggle up with some tea and coffee and watch and share.

    Registration begins today. And again. It’s FREE. Over 6000 women participated last year from 20 countries.

    A little bit about (in)RL…

    Born out of two years spent listening to women in the comments here at (in)courage craving local, real life community, (in)RL is an invitation to share what we’ve learned about community and encourage women with stories and suggestions for connecting deeper in real life.

    (in)RL is the combination of outstanding online content that encourages, moves and inspires women as they watch in the comfort of their own homes and local meet-ups where small becomes the new big and women connect, in person, beyond the comment box.

    This year we’re unpacking the power of story. No matter how much life you’ve lived or what you’ve walked through, you have a story.

    And we, as a community, are less without your story.

    So, please register and join us. I can’t wait to hear your story.

  • Smashing The Trophy Cases of Social Media

    I recently got a few emails from a couple of people. In one, someone said they were glad I shared about my Christmas in the psych hospital because her perception before that was that I was perfect. Admittedly, she knew I wasn’t perfect, but it just seemed like my life glows with happiness all the time.

    [Tweet “Nobody has a fairytale life. Not your favorite blogger or your favorite pastor.”]

    Last night, I got an email from a blog-familiar face. He unsubscribed from me and wanted to tell me why. He said that reading the things I write sometimes make him jealous. When I talk about grace I’ve received, he is reminded of the knives in his back and the arrows close friends shot into his heart. He went through a tough time, and has a bleeding heart to show for it.

    I responded, appreciating his honesty and confessed that I often unfollow people (sometimes those I know well) because the things they post – the Christmas party I didn’t get an invite to, the trips to restaurants, the awesome things that God does in their lives – well, it sometimes make me jealous.

    And that is my problem. And I continually work on it. (Or I’m trying, anyway).

    His email caused me to pause last night and wonder if I’m projecting the truest image of me possible online.

    Is my blog the best place to share everything? Is Twitter a platform for gloating? Does Instagram have enough filters to make me look like I’m in my 20s?

    No.

    I’m going to guess that all of you know I’m not perfect. There is so much I wrestle with: anxiety, control, envy. Self image. Self worth. Perfectionism. Anger.

    So. Many. Things.

    [Tweet “Social media is a place where the good and bad in our lives are displayed in virtual trophy cases.”]

    Let’s break the cases open, smash the trophies, and play around in each others’ celebrations and each others’ heartaches.

    Plaques in the Great Room

  • The Fear of Starting Over Again

    For the longest time, I didn’t even have a desk. What I placed my computer on from the time I was 19 until the time I was 30 was a cheap, round two-seater kitchen table. And I use the words kitchen table lightly, as it looked to be something that belonged more on the patio of my grandmother.

    Those were the days before social media as we know it now; they were the days that my biggest distraction was spam IMs from my AOL messenger. But oh, how I would write and write and write until my wrists hurt from the weird angle from which I hoisted my hands over my keys. I woke up in the morning, went to work at my job as a bookstore manager, or non-profit budget coordinator, or marketing associate, or youth pastor, or director of communication, or graphic designer, or project manager, or whatever-my-job-was-those-days, and given any free moment from my duties, it was back to writing. There was not enough time to contain those words.

    Now, I write for a living. I write books. Or, well, I’ve written three (1, 2, 3). I’ve written a bunch of articles for a bunch of places. I write messages for talks I give. Sometimes it’s a joy, sometimes it’s an obligation. Sometimes I put it aside and watch a season of Frasier on Netflix. Now, the challenge of blogging – of not being paid to do something and just doing it because of my love for it, well, I’m a little scared.

    I’m scared I won’t have the tenacity to follow through, and do this – yikes – every day, except on the weekends.

    I’m scared I’ll get disappointed in those darn numbers and say it’s not worth my time.

    I’m scared I’ll…

    Wow, this one’s hard to say.

    I’m scared I’ll run out of good words.

    There is a fear we must face when we do what we truly believe we are called to do: what if I try and fail?

    Then who am I?

    Oh, please remind me that I am a child of the King. A daughter of the One who sees me clothed in righteousness, not mistakes and sin and mud. Let me lean into You, my Father, when I break my own heart by filling it up with the chards of lies and not your soft truth.