I’d like to introduce you to an online friend of mine, Michelle Munt. Michelle writes the most interesting blog posts, showing there is life after brain injury.
Michelle also encourages others to share their stories. Check out Leanne Whitehouse’s post from September 6th as she tells of celebrating her thirtieth anniversary of the beginning of healing from brain injury.
Thanks, Michelle, for carrying the torch for others struggling with the slow process of healing.
If you’re not already following Michelle, why not?
Here’s a challenge for all bloggers: Look through your first blog post.
After you finish giggling and rolling your eyes, think about what you just read. Think about the person who wrote it. Think about how life has changed since then. now, congratulate yourself for sticking with it!
For complete transparency, I’ve included my first post from December 2010, and this is what I found:
- I am still trying to publish a book—a different one this time, but a book, nonetheless.
- While my speaking ministry has progressed, there are times I still question my ability to tell others of God’s great mercy and grace for us.
- I still realize I am nothing without Christ. My comfort has nothing to do with how good God is in my life. And the scripture still rings true. His plans are still etched in stone.
The cool air stirred and the long rays of morning sun greeted the three of us as we walked the long driveway. It took everything in me not to start crying.
“Today’s a great day!” I said, with too much pep in my voice. I wanted to make sure I told him all he needed to know for this special day. “You’ll meet new people and it’ll be terrific!”
We continued to walk, hand in hand as we always had in the past. He stopped, looked up into my eyes, and with a sober voice, “It is a great day, right, Mommy?”
Little Sis skipped along singing Great day, It’s gonna be a great day … She had no idea the somberness of this moment. But how could she? How could she know what it felt like to lose a baby into an Unknown World?
Have you ever just talked with someone and thought, “I want that they have”? That was my experience when I chatted with my guest blogger, Lauren Reeves. You can find her on Facebook or follow the podcast she offers with Tammy Whitehurst (another inspiring friend) at JoyfortheJourneyPodcast,
I’m not always as strong as I project to be. Sometimes I shut down. I become emotionally paralyzed and can’t move forward. The what-if’s spiral in my mind and harden my heart, leading me to a complete standstill.
It’s all because of fear.
Here I am, inspirational speaker and author, sharing God’s plans for us, yet I struggle with fear primarily in two areas of my life: 1) believing I am loved, and 2) finding the courage to face my calling.
At times, the fear of not being love feels like a war raging within me. I’d always known logically that I am loved, but phrases like, “They only love you because they don’t know you,” or “You’re just a novelty. Give it time and you’ll see their affection wasn’t real at all,” taunted me, allowing fear to get a foothold on my heart, freezing me in my tracks.
Acceptance. It’s what we want, but do we offer it? Instead, we tend to exasperate those who see life differently than we do.
We’re all different. It may not seem like it, but none of us share the exact experiences that would make us the same. Some came from a comfortable home life and solid family of origin, while others struggled with empty bellies and absentee parents.
We may look the same, go to the same schools or even read the same books. But a time comes … something happens … then POW out of nowhere, differences appear.
Our feelings get hurt, or we hurt someone else’s feelings. It’s sad, really. Because we are not the same and inevitably, diversity in how we think or see the world appear.
The answer: Celebrate differences! Learn from one another. Because really, who else do we learn from than those who are different than us?
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39 NIV
Never has a phase brought more comfort.
Try to think of something not included. Fear of not having enough money? Covered.
Upset with what others are saying about you? Don’t let it get between you and your Heavenly Father. That’s covered, too.
Maybe you’re fretting over (yes, I’m going there) the political climate of the day. While it may hurt your heart and make you sad to see people fighting over commentaries on either side of the aisle, know for a fact that all their chest-pounding or fear-mongering does not have the power to separate you from God’s love. So take a deep breath and know God’s already fought your battle and won!
If you’re not feeling all that confident, drop me a note at email@example.com and let’s talk about it.
July 4th. Independence Day.
It goes beyond picnics and parades. It’s about our freedom. Freedom to choose. Freedom to worship as we want. Freedom to choose our own path in life.
John Adams, one of our founding fathers, wrote of this day to his wife, Abigail:
You just returned from a writer’s conference. You met people who poured their wisdom into your life and you will never be the same again. Life as a writer has taken on legs and you’re confident you’re on the right course.
Then you curl up into a ball, sit in your favorite chair, and stare at the television.
What just happened to you? Read my latest post on the Blue Ridge Conference.
While social media venues (Facebook, Twitter, in particular) were originally touted as perfect communication tools for family and friends living far away, these forms of communication have turned into Pandora boxes of communication.
Seeing pictures of far-away friends and family always fills my heart with joy. For anyone living away from their roots or special friends, they understand this gift. But if gone unchecked, this “gift” can suck you dry emotionally. Consider how social media has changed our lives.
To celebrate Father’s Day, here’s a post I shared earlier. I’d love to hear stories from you about the relationship you have (or had) with yours. I pray it was as loving as mine was. Love you, Dad. I miss you.
Even though my family of origin was pretty dysfunctional, one of my favorite pastimes is to remember stories about my dad and how he honored my feelings and held them close to his heart.