My Healing Place

It’s been a year….

OK, maybe it’s been a few years or a few decades of struggles masked by smiles.

But Maker is faithful to sculpt scarred hearts surrendered to Him into resilient masterpieces.

As I prepare to close this chapter in Atlanta – I am so thankful for the healing that has happened here over the past year-and-a-half.

I am especially thankful for those my Maker has surrounded me with in this season to help the healing happen…. Just to name a few: my North Springs United Methodist Church family – especially the Celebrate Recovery group there, my incredible colleagues who became fast friends at Emory Saint Joseph’s Hospital, my warm and welcoming neighbors here on The Hill ATL, and Hector Pereles at New Living Counseling…. Not to mention the faithful friends and family who have covered me with encouragement and prayers from across the country.

I am so very grateful and more adamant than ever when I say “Don’t do life alone”.

I really don’t think I would have survived had I not reached out for help.

#MyStorysNotOver because it’s part of an #EternalStory. AΩ; #AlphaOmegaSemicolon #SuicidePrevention #Hope #Healing #AbuseSurvivor #CodependencyRecovery #HealingContinues #HealingCommunities

Growing Young

Anyone who has met my Dad knows that one of his favorite pastimes is joking around with anybody and everybody around him.

Well…. he’s met his match in pranksters in the teaching team of West Park Baptist’ Church’s Parent’s Day Out program (where my amazing Mom loved teaching preschoolers before heading to Heaven and my Dad now volunteers)!

Dad gets there every morning before anyone else so he can have the coffee made and be at his post by the door to greet the little ones with his infamous “high five” from “Mr. Jay”. He starts his day by hanging his hat on a hook before he goes about his business.

Over the past few weeks, Dad goes to retrieve his hat at day’s end often finds that one of the teachers has “kidnapped” it. Dad then must go on a hunt – sometimes complete with ransom notes and clues – to find it.

On the last day of school before Thanksgiving, the hat was still on its hook – but it had been turned into a turkey!

At age 82, Dad is showing me that there is an alternative to growing old. We can choose to grow young by never taking ourselves too seriously and not missing opportunities to make someone else smile.

Thanks, Dad! You’ll always be my favorite turkey!

Happy Thanksgiving to all!