For as long as I can remember, I have felt frustration in my faith journey. I have enough smarts to keep myself (and my children, when they were home) fed, clothed, under shelter, and with enough play money to have fun now and then. God gave me a brain. I always have been able to use it. My mother reminded me often to use my brain.



“That’s not who you are!”  I can still hear my mother exclaiming in a firm but loud voice as she pointed her finger at the object on the table. Even in this moment as I type, my head is shaking at the memory of that day and the very stupid action that landed the 14-year-old girl at the kitchen table. It was a stupid action, it wasn’t a reflection of who I was, and for the life of me, I can’t even remember why I did it.

Everything changed when I met another man.

It was obvious to those in my life that I wanted a relationship. I truly thought I was fine. My relationship with Jesus was incredible. I was happy, content, and clueless.

I met him one weekend. It was a Saturday night.

Have you ever done one of those visual exercises when you stare at a picture until you see the second picture hidden within the first? That is a great explanation of how I spent most of my life.  I kept looking at the first picture, unaware of the hidden one, and unable to see it.

There are two ways to look at life. Grab everything it has to offer, or let it take everything out of you.

For many years I worked and labored at life. Subconsciously I was going through every day just trying to survive. I wasn’t even aware of my mindset. It was where I started my day, where I ended my day, and I had no idea there was anything else.