Champions.

IMG_1024.JPGI can’t explain how proud of my friends I am. Whatever they do, they do it with all they are. Monica crushes the arts and Amy crushes the academics. They are lights in the dark, make you feel so known and loved, and are each champion for people, for the unheard, the unjustly judged, the misunderstood, and the lonely.

I have the immense opportunity to visit them in Atlanta every few months and watch them work hard and love well. Monica recently choreographed an incredible show and Amy kicked a$$ during her first year of Emory while working multiple jobs. Anyway, this isn’t brag on my friends hour (though it should be). Continue reading

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Agendas

picThe Feminist Agenda.

The Gay Agenda.

The Christian Agenda.

The Muslim Agenda.

The Republican Agenda.

The Democrat Agenda.

Are you tired of counting them? Because I am. I’m tired of trying to understand them, of trying to figure out which feminists, which Republicans, which LGBT members and which Christians have these crazy radical agendas and which simply

are.

Unless we are talking about inherently violent groups, then I think it’s safe to say that none of these “agendas” are actually what the other people say about it. These agendas most likely have a pure heart behind them. A desire to see love overrule hate. A desire to see life instead of death. Of acceptance rather than rejection or societal and relational exile. Continue reading

Keep Going

gagaMy mom is so strong. She is not afraid to show emotions, to be vulnerable, and to feel pain. She is also tough, secure, and a force to be reckoned with. (None of these things are mutually exclusive). She has had a hell of a year, from my dad getting sick to this last week when she lost her daddy, she has stood firm in the love of Jesus and her faith that God is good through and through.

I admire my mom. I want to be more like her.

When we lost Gaga, I was good for a while. I firmly believe that he is so happy right now and it’s a joyous thing to know that Gaga gets to spend time with the King, with the God he spent his life serving. I’m so happy for him and I feel so blessed to have known him, been his partner, and learned from him over the years. Continue reading

Dangerous Love

Tree2My throat burns and my cheeks are wet. With blood? With sweat? With tears? I close my eyes and push my hands against my face, shaking my head quickly so the strands of dirty hair fly wildly. I want to scream again but I can’t take a breath and without air, there’s not much  you can do. I want to run but without space, there’s not very many places you can go.

I want it all to end but with so much love, you can’t justify ending anything at all.

Love.

Continue reading

Morning Flight

22310274_10210508451654338_8099977218505346740_n Lynn turns off the alarm clock and turns to stare out the window. The sky has a blanket of clouds keeping the sun at bay. Her hair fans out behind her, spread across the duvet. The dreams linger in the corner of her mind and she rubs her eyes in an attempt to erase them. She runs the tip of her fingers across her lips, remembering the brush of his against hers. Groaning, she rolls over, pulling a pillow over her head.

“Alright,” Lynn huffs, climbing out of bed. She pulls at the blinds and rests her forehead against the glass. A group of birds take flight from the telephone wires they were perched on.  Continue reading

A Game

15590037_10211707848635793_58361140296266066_n“Let’s play a game.”

“That sounds eerie.”

“No, it’ll be a fun game.”

“Alright, how does it go?”

“I spend every moment of my day loving who you are, and all you have to do is let me.”

“That’s not a game.”

“You just have to be yourself. Then you win the game.” Continue reading

How Do I love?

picsWhen gift giving is a joy and not a burden, I know I’m in a good place.

I’ve found I show love best by giving presents. Much to my bank accounts despair, I adore spending money on the people I love. A random bouquet of flowers to show my friends I’m proud of them, a mug referencing our favorite TV show to congratulate them, the pair of leggings they’ve wanted for months to say ‘happy birthday, go on a run.’
If you hate spending money on ‘useless’ presents, don’t think this blog is calling you out. Gift giving is not how everyone shows love, anyways. You may show love through spending time with people, serving them, or just simple words of affirmation, all of which are completely valid. I, on the other hand, give gifts to tell someone I admire them.

Continue reading

HERS.

14352270_951674774956083_3263135980559809627_oTherapy. Doctors. Endless conversations. Even a hypnotist once.

“You’re in shock.” “You’ve experienced great tragedy and loss.” “Trauma plagues you every day.” “You need help.” “What you’ve experienced follows you every day.” “You’re demons will never leave you.” “Broken, you’re broken.”

Broken. Broken. Broken.

I don’t remember what it’s like to have a normal beating heart. Most people don’t think about it. The way your heart thumps in your chest. Most normal people don’t realize every pump of blood being surged through your body. Continue reading

Questions.

13329365_10209856672357543_2511492478186887590_oI have this thing going where I want to speak up for the voiceless and fight for the hopeless and make a difference. I want to end oppression and make privilege seen. And then while I’m sitting in Starbucks with a slight pain in my throat from getting a surgery that wasn’t necessary to my life thinking ‘maybe I could go to the doctor to get more medicine’ and ‘I’ll just go home and sit with my hardworking, loving parents to bring my mood up’ I start to wonder why I think I have the right to be the voice for the voiceless.

Is there a point where the privilege you didn’t ask for voids your attempt to speak up for the oppressed?

Will I ever truly understand the trials the people I’m fighting for go through?

Will anything ever change? Is anything worth it? Or should I just sit with my 4$ cup of coffee, watching my violent TV show and ignore the cries around me? Continue reading

My Mighty Leopard.

13301372_10209858882252789_1657476168247963656_oHer voice purred, lingering in my ears more than the loudest song. She blinked, eyelashes painting her cheek in a swift motion. I watched her skin pull against her muscles, screaming strength and scaring away cowardice. She walked with grace, feet constantly balanced, aware of the world around her.

You’re unsure if you should approach, her beauty intimating you into surrender. Your body screams at you to reach out, touch her, feel her soft coat under your fingertips. You hold your hand back, clenching it into a fist to stifle the desire. She bares her teeth and you take a step back. She dares you to come closer, enter her space, become one in her world. Try it. Try to tame her.

I dare you.

She is pure, clean, and fierce, a beautiful contradiction. A being of opposites. A creature of habit afraid of change. She is gentle, strong, cautious and brave. Her soft purr is louder than the most powerful roar.

She watches me, making me want to stand up straight and follow her into a den of danger. I would give her my life. Allow her to move me forward. Close my eyes. Blindly follow. She smiles, glistening teeth brighter than stars. Magnificent beauty that I can’t seem to wrap into words.