I used to believe holiness meant always saying yes. Yes, I can help. Yes, that’s fine. Yes, I don’t mind at all. I practiced self-erasure so well that people called it Christlike. (Because who am I if I'm not useful?) People applauded my disappearing act, as if vanishing was a virtue. No one ever told me that sometimes the most obedient thing a person of faith can do is simply say no. But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: When “love” looks like exhausting myself to earn

Over the last year and a half, my Pastor--Boss has made a point of telling me to sit with my emotions . Conversations usually go like this: I walk into his office. I plop down. I start complaining about a situation and how it makes me feel.I rehearse all the reasons I’m justified in being upset. And then, inevitably, he says, “Sit with it.” No fixing. No reframing. No immediate prayer to tie it up with a bow. Just… sit with it. Sitting with it means allowing yourself to feel

Hey y’all! This post is a bit of a departure from my usual fare, but with Wicked: For Good releasing this month, I’ve found myself reflecting—and feeling a lot of feelings. Even if musicals aren’t your thing, I hope this reflection finds some resonance in you. The first time I saw Wicked, I was supposed to care about the witches. Everyone does. You choose a side: green or pink, rebellion or perfection. But I found my eyes drifting to the boy who never stopped moving, the one