We just tore down the church Christmas decorations. My lobby is back to its nice, tidy simplified self, and I am a happy camper. I love to see the beautiful décor during the season, but I begin to feel cluttered and claustrophobic before it all comes down. I guess I will have to admit life …
Authentic Truths- Where are the Heroes?
WE begin to be the change the world needs. WE begin to be the voice of love, compassion, decency, responsibility, and dedication. WE choose to rise above and be a hero- probably not on a world stage, but right there where you stand!
Authentic Truth- Never Forget
While we attempt to form a deeper understanding into what God chose to do when he sent His son, to watch him die on that cross, we will never fully comprehend it.
Bipolar Life-Look closely, you’ll find me.
You see, this is being a bipolar Christian. This is the battle, and He is our armor. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. This is not just a verse in an old book. This is my life song. .The theme of my days. .The sticky note stuck on the beat of my heart.
Poetry-His Presence
He circled around my body, He sat within my soul, He breathed the breath I lost, while experiencing him come and go.
Authentic Truths-Freedom in Forgiveness
We are incapable of such forgiveness without God. When you chose Christ, you chose the Spirit to live within you, and it is that Spirit that brings us through our pain and circumstances into a complete forgiveness- over and over.
Bipolar Life-Hidden Scars
No one knew these scars existed. Like every other part of my life, I hid them well.
Poetry- Father, Fill Me
Living in the worlds chaos, yet focused on You instead...
Lost & Found- Under Construction
While the many hours of training were meant to train me in the many aspects of Christian caring, they also provided me with much insight and an in depth understanding of myself. It opened doors to accept who I am, challenge myself to be assertive in areas I’ve never been, and to love myself from within.
Bipolar Life- Depth of Despair
Every night I thought of the guns, or pills, or even the rafters in the garage. I thought of dying more than I thought of living. Death just seemed easier. It may sound selfish to someone on the outside, it may be, but my will to live was slipping away.


