Brazen: Pick Pomegranates
Leeana Tankersley
What if you wake up some day, and you’re 65 . . . and you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you
What if you wake up some day, and you’re 65 . . . and you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you
Nature is a storyteller infused with holy narratives. Maybe this is why so many faith traditions find the darkest time of year to be
It is just a random Tuesday, so today is as good as any to tell you all my dreams for your life. I don’t
“Mama, when are you going to play with me?” Her fingers reach out like thin cords, pulling me upstairs to her pink hideaway constructed
Pants that force me to suck in my stomach all day long. Never mind that I bought them that way thinking I wouldn’t have to
“I don’t want us to be afraid of adversity,” my husband says. We’re in the van, on our way home from church, of course,
It was as if I’d known those eyes for a thousand years. They connected with mine, in a mysteriously comforting blue moon way. They
My skin, my waistline, my grey wiry hairs poking out of my dark locks remind me that I am getting older every time I
Sometimes we think we have to pick one, when in reality it is always both. Light and dark, hope and fear, kindness and risk,
“The heartbeat is fast — 166 beats per minute,” the technician told me a week ago in the blue hush of the ultrasound room.