I hope this blog is a place for souls to gather hear my story and find inspiration, courage and abundant love. Grief is a sly creature, time goes by and as I begin to forget. He creeps inside with claws digging into my stomach,. Razor teeth gnashing at my heart. He curls under my rib cage,. Heavy and dark, pressed against my vital parts. I cannot breathe; he crushes my lungs,.

A man I admire told me there are many. Benefits to letting the world fall apart. He said this sitting in his own ruins. With a ashen smile on his broken face. Although I have known him for years. It was hard to tell in that moment whether. He was trying to convince me or himself. He said from now on you can call me Job,. The man God bet on who then lost it all. We let silence take a seat between us because.

Sunday, July 6, 2014. Monday, June 2, 2014. The Question I am Not Allowed to Ask. How old are you? Now I know this sounds trivial, but it has somewhat bothered me over the years, as I was told not to ask a grown-up their age. I have always loved knowing ages, birthdays, and middle names of friends and family, or even people I just met. Why is that not allowed? Why is it considered rude or obnoxious? I think not. Will I be ugly? I wrote this during a write-in with Story Sessions. Wednesday, May 14, 2014.