There are 1,585 words beyond this. It will take the average adult reader approximately six minutes to read.
I do not believe being overweight is sinful. As an overweight female Christian, however, I can tell you three specific things about my own personal obesity:
- It was and is, in part, caused by medical issues.
- It was and is, in part, caused by others’ sin.
- It was and is, in part, caused by my own sin.
I do not believe that the excess weight on my body is actually sinful. However, I do acknowledge the role sin—and this fallen fucking world—has had on my body.
This blog will take the average adult reader approximately four minutes to read.
A friend recently pointed out to me that, in all aspects of life, I am a data collector. I know I do this consciously as part of my job—and I know I do it as a bit of a hobby. I never realized until very recently that I do it non-stop in my head in my personal life. It is an adequate way to describe how I process much of the world around me, though.
I collect data by observing behaviors (intentional and otherwise), language, and my environment—I sort it into data sets—and then I draw conclusions. I can trace this behavior back to when I was about five years old—I’m sure people that knew me as a wee tot can trace it back even farther. It is how I process information. All of life, for me, is data collection and analysis.
(This blog will take the average adult roughly 4 minutes to read.)
“Indifference is the opposite of love.”
The pastor of the church I attend spoke on this some weeks ago. And I’ve been ruminating on it in my head and my heart ever since.
I wax indifferent when the storm tide rises. I can be a very calloused, apathetic person. It’s nothing shy of a defense mechanism. It’s how I’ve learned to deal with the storm surge in my life that has yet to recede.
(This blog will take the average adult about 3 minutes to read.)
They say it takes one to know one.
Consider me an authority on manipulators—because I am a champion among them.
I can spot a manipulator and a liar from a mile away—because I know it intimately within myself. Continue reading
There are 795 words after this. That’s under 3 minutes of reading for the average adult.
I write a lot about failure. Specifically, I write a lot about failure as it pertains to womanhood—because, quite honestly, I perpetually feel like a failure at womaning.
It comes up often in my head and heart with the words “not good enough”. Lately, those words have been playing in my head on repeat as I repeatedly come to terms with the fact that most of my friends are married and many are having kids. I want that so badly—but I’m not good enough. That’s why I’m 30 and am seemingly unwanted on the romantic front—I’m not good enough. (I’ll write more on that later. I can feel it welling up inside me like vomit.)
In my own head, I’m not good enough for a plethora of reasons. I won’t list them out here—a lot of them can be found in past (and future) blogs. Summarized, I am a shitty woman.
(This blog will take the average adult roughly 3.5 minutes to read.)
I’ve been that way for a few months now.
Now that I’m out of my twenties, I can talk about them like I ever had even the slightest clue what was going on. Continue reading