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From Fear to Wonder Opening my eyes to the stars in the darkest nights

The light switch in my childhood room was by the door. My bed was all the way across the room. I was so afraid of the dark that I’d close my eyes before turning out the lights and walking across the room like I was playing some game from the Ellen Show where you make your way blindfolded through a…

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A mile in her shoes…walking in the dark, with others.

They carefully pressed his tiny toes first onto the ink pad, then onto the birth certificate. Next came his tiny hands. Hands that would hold my finger while he nursed, hold my hand while we walked and my heart, forever.  I have experienced those holy moments with 3 sons. It’s a memory and memento moms share. Our hearts still skip…

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A Broken Brave

  My coffee cup cupboard is a dangerous game of Jenga. Porcelain teacups are  stacked with heavy Starbucks mugs. Insulated cups, ready to hit the road are perched on cracked faded cups gifted by students, 30 years ago. (This type of stacking is what happens when your family empties the dishwasher. Unless you want to be doomed to forever emptying it,…

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Truth, or Dare? In which I discover I hide my fear behind truth…

Truth, or Dare? I choose Truth. Every time. I don’t recall ever taking a dare. I’d like to say it’s because i’m much too mature to accept a dare. Or, that it’s because of my deep abiding love for the truth and my calling to tell it….but it’s not. It’s  mostly because of my deep, abiding fear of failing. With…

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That Thing. The One You Keep Trying to Avoid, What If It’s Your Next Step? Fiercely Facing Fear

I tend to magnify my fears through the lens of melodrama. I have skills.  Skills I put to work, last weekend, at the Speak Up Conference. Part of the conference offerings is an opportunity to paticipate in a series of fifteen minute one to one meetings with publishers, agents, consultants and Authors. You are given a list of potential people…

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…into the waves. In which I am braver on the water and consider filling my shoes with it.

“Turn into the waves. You won’t tip, if you go straight into the waves.”  When a friend told me this, I was pretty sure she was insane, or lying. Our group of friends likes to prank each other. You never know. Going into the waves, goes against every emotional and logical thought I have, when I face rough water. I…

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In Which: I Hate Being on Hold. In all ways.

Confession: I hate the phone. Well- I love my phone- I just hate talking on it. I have issues talking to people without being able to see their faces. Among the bakers dozen other issues I have. I especially hate being placed on hold, once I’ve actually picked up the hateful phone and actually made a call.  Which- happened Friday…

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In Which: I am Afraid of Writing my Next Chapter. Hello- Hijab. Glad to wear you.

Confession: I’m afraid. So afraid, that I’ve been doing everything possible EXCEPT write my next chapter. The Hijab chapter. What is it like to be a muslim woman in suburban America? Instead of stepping into those shoes- and then writing about it-I’ve been: 1) Researching. (I.E. reading books about veiling is much less intimidating than wearing one. It’s also very…

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2015- A Year for Hope and Joy. #myoneword #twowords

I don’t follow rules particularly well. I view them as guidelines. I gave up New years resolutions years ago. Mostly because the ones I chose tended to be lame, temporal and well- I usually failed at them.   I’ll exercise every day. I’ll lose 30 lbs. I’ll eat healthier. I’ll spend more time with God and the people I love…..…

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Dear Moms: You make me brave. #Momcon #MOPS International

Truth: I left for #momcon feeling a mixed bag of emotions. They varied from anxious and afraid to excited and full of expectations and hope. It was hard to go. I left my husband for the first time during his chemo treatment. I left a 12 year old whom I know is struggling with anxiety. I left college boys who…

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