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

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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.

 

Dear Me,

13220928_10206430368264802_1748868404462497146_nYou may have looked in the mirror before and hated what you saw. You may have pulled on her skin and sucked in as hard as you could, wishing more than anything to look like the people on TV. You may have even decided skipping dinner and maybe tomorrow’s lunch, would somehow heighten your worth.

You’ve probably questioned your worth.

Asked yourself who really cares. Wondered what your impact in the world was. If you were never born, what difference would it make, really? Continue reading

We Disagree?

picsPhilippians 4:13- “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

You most likely had one of two reactions after reading that verse. Either you thought, “Man, I love that verse” or you rolled your eyes and almost stopped reading this blog post.

Religion is not simple. The bible is not straightforward. Everyone does not agree on everything. Verses mean something different to each individual person.

Everyone’s faith is different. Even within a denomination. Even within a church. Even within a family.

Hello, reader. My name is Madison. I’m a junior in college. I’m a non-denominational Christian. My dad is a pastor. And we probably disagree on so much.

And that’s okay. Continue reading

Touch is a good thing.

12002577_10205002081598528_3208880920806528361_o“I forgot how many times that had been said to me. To touch people less. As I was a child I was told to stop hugging people as much.” –Zoe Mckinney.

One of the recent conversations I had with Zoe was about hugs. Touch. Intimacy. How important these things are. And how we have perverted such necessary parts of human life.

We teach kids at a young age that they have to keep their hands to themselves. Don’t hug your friends of the opposite gender too much because it’s considered flirting. We start sexualizing touch at a young age when we should really be teaching our children that touch is good and healthy, because it is. Touch is not sexual. Hugging, holding hands, physical intimacy is not sexual. Physical connection is a vital part of humanity. We need this connection with other humans. These things are not sexual acts. They are acts of intimacy and intimacy doesn’t have to be a sexual thing. Continue reading