Planting the Word of God in our hearts forecasts what will be and ultimately changes our lives, for what is in our heart will be in our mind. Reading, knowing, and applying the truth of God to every part of our being is a recipe for greatness and godliness in a fallen world.
Bipolar Life- From Feeling Nothing to Feeling Christ
In today's world, it is not uncommon for feelings to rule. If I look back on my life, it has been this way for a long time. I cannot say it was always this way. Generations before me experienced feelings in situations, dealing with them, then letting them go. Life went on, and hurt or …
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My Memories -Choices Matter
The most powerful words in existence are choice and choose. These two words lend to every triumph and trial we face.
Bipolar Life- The Journal #74- “Suicide Cries”
Where something beautiful should be, lies a vacant space only filled with the waste of pain. Years of abuse scavenged every last bit of light—a broken mind from a broken heart.
Bipolar Life-The Journal #72, Getting Through a Pandemic
The experts disagree, the politicians disagree, local and state municipalities disagree, and we are stuck in the middle.
Bipolar Life, The Journal #70, A Note to You
Maybe my lesson is the one you need today. Maybe your pain is still holding you down, even to the point of wrapping itself around your throat and constricting every breath you take.
Lost & Found- Wasted Dream
I look back, and a wasted dream comes to mind. However, what if God's perfect timing was after I endured the crazy bumps of life. Every piece of my story speaks to the strength and power of my Savior.
Their Addiction-My Journey- “Overdose, 9-1-1”
When mental illness meets addiction, death happens.
Their Addiction-My Journey-From the Shadows of my Heart
Heroin, alcohol, pot- how did we get here?
Their Addiction-My Journey- The Road to Recovery
How do we love those who not only appear unlovable in their mess but also hate us in it, as well? I had dodged fists and verbal attacks, put up bail money (only once), picked up my grand-kids from a ravaged house with a passed out mom, and cleaned out more hidden empty bottles than I can count. Still, the pain I felt when the handcuffs went on killed me. The hopelessness was burning through my soul the way Satan enjoys.


