Quiet Time or All the Time?

Every once in a while I think about planning/scheduling, but rarely do I ever stick with it. Actually, never. Or at least not long term. But I keep coming back to it for some reason. Don’t know why. I think because almost everywhere you look, productivity blogs and such tout it as some super great life hack to get a million and one things done in a week. I get that planning can be very beneficial for some, but maybe it’s just not for me. Or maybe I just need to figure out the method that works for me. Regardless, what planning got me thinking about was how we approach “quiet time” with God.
On a side note, I don’t like the term “quiet time”. It just bothers me. I’m not trying to attack people who do like it, or anything. If you like it go ahead and stick with it. I think it might be the whole idea/the approach we have to quiet time that bothers me. I did call quiet time “open and raw moments with God” for a bit though :)
I tried planning for a little bit ago, and I would put quiet ti…


I feel like my life is in shambles sometimes.

Like I am floating through it with no idea where to go.

Like I am bouncing back and forth, trying to decide the “right” move.
Like I’m stuck in some sort of limbo and wondering if I’ll ever get out.
Like everything is cricking, or cracking. Breaking, and shattering. But on the surface is a smooth piece of glass that says: I’m doing fine. You don’t need to worry. I don’t need to worry.
I’m doing fine.
I’m not doing fine.
I’m doing well enough, I suppose. I have plans, I suppose. But still there is that never ending, always there, lingering doubt.
It never quite goes away.
Then there’s the shame. Shame for not doing better. Shame for not being further along in life. Shame for not having it all together. Shame for failing.
I heard once that millennials were all about “now”. Getting what they wanted now, and not waiting. Achieving everything now.
But I wonder if that’s true?
Or rather, I wonder if it’s because we feel like we have to.
We see…

Thoughts on 2018

So tomorrow is 2018. And I’m just realizing how long it has been since I wrote a blog post. I don’t really know what happened. I had intentions. Good intentions (road to hell is paved with good intentions :) But then I think Christmas and working eight and nine hour shifts, and not getting enough sleep, and lots of things happening happened. But even before that it was kind of off track. I did have some blog posts or blog post type things written, but I never did post them. I might in the New Year, though. But anyway I want to talk about now and 2018.
I sort of went through the same thing I did last year. Christmas was good. It’s hard not to like Christmas. It’s magical and filled with hope, and wonder, and forgiveness. And then it’s over and it’s like oh crap, where the hell is my life even going? How did another year go by and I’m still not where I thought I would be. I’m not even really closer like at all to where I wanted to be. What the hell is wrong with me?
Okay. Maybe a little…

Worthless Is A Lie

Sometimes I feel worthless. Sometimes I feel like a failure. Sometimes I wonder if I should just give up on my dream. Sometimes I wonder if I should numb the pain with alcohol. Just go to work, and hate my life, and numb the pain emotionally.
These are horrible things to think as a person, and as a Christian, but they are there, nonetheless. They’re all lies. They’re things that seem true when you’re trapped in self-despair. Escape seems like the only option, even though it is dull and listless. But you think you’re not worth anything, so escape is all you got. Again, lies.
And sometimes I push God away, when I’m like this. More often than not, actually. The one person who I need the most, and I push him away. I’ve thought more than once that I don’t deserve his love. And it’s true. I don’t. You don’t. But it’s not about deserving it, and I know this. But sometimes I feel like I’m not worth saving, and I’m not worth his love. I know there is a difference between being worthy, and havi…

Depression Is Not The End

Once upon a time there was a little girl. A little girl who thought that she was all alone in the world. She had no one who understood her. No friends to confide in. Even her family didn’t really “get” her. They loved her, of course, and she loved them, and they were close, but she didn’t really let them into that dark place inside, at least not all the time. 
The little girl would cry week after week because she was alone. She found solace in writing. She found solace in writing out her pain, writing about tearing her body open with knives and letting the blood run free. But none of it really helped. It helped her express herself, and feel like some of that negativity floating around in her was gone. It helped her cope. But it didn’t heal her.
This went on for quite some time on and off. Some days were better than other days. Some months were better than other months. Some years were better than other years. But the darkness lingered around her like a dark shroud.
The little girl th…


This post is for all the other writers out there who are frustrated like crazy. Sorry I probably won’t be able to offer you any solid advice, but maybe my thoughts will offer you some solace, or some nugget of wisdom.

I’m having career issues. I’m at a crossroads, and I’ve gone from one road to the other twenty times and back, trying to make sense of what the hell it is I’m supposed to do in this life.
I want to write. I know that. I live that. But society tells me I need a real job. No, that’s wrong. Society tells me a need a good job. One that I love. No, that’s wrong too. Society tells me I need a job that makes a lot of money. It doesn’t matter what it is as long as I make lots of the green stuff. Or at least a half decent amount.
It doesn’t seem that bad on the surface. Go to uni or college. Get a degree. Get a good job (lots of money). Meet a nice guy or girl. Get married. Have kids. Live happily ever after.
It’s not that bad. On the surface.
Problem is: I don’t fit the mould…

When Life Looks Bleak

So ideally this post should have been put up before Easter, or on Easter, but it wasn't written yet and I'm not waiting until next Easter to post it. My hope is that someone who needs the words will see it and it will speak to them.

How do we have hope in the darkest, bleakest times? How do we continue to keep hope alive when all seems lost? When all is dark and gray and falling to ashes around us, when our hopes and dreams disintegrate into dust, when it feels like God himself has left us alone, how do we have hope? How do we press on? How do we keep going when we are weighed down by a weight that we cannot even see? How do we have hope?
You just do, some say. Or you just pray hard enough. Like it’s your fault. Cause you’re not praying hard enough. Pray tell, (pun intended), what does “praying hard enough” look like? How is it different from regular prayer? Do people put extra passion into their prayers, so God hears them better? Do you think God cares about extra passion? He…