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on the power of showing up

note: I wrote this post in April of 2019 (pre-COVID). It's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, but I think it's time for it to see the light of day. It's been helpful for me to reread over the past few months, especially as I continue to try to make an effort to write, and I hope it can be helpful to you, too. i got an invite to a writers' group a few months ago, and i had never felt like more of a fraud in my life. it had been months, if not years, since i'd felt like a writer. the proverbial well of words in my heart had dried up, it seemed, and i wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. i agreed to go out of a sense of helplessness—i'd identified as a writer ever since i could remember. if i'm not a writer, who am i?  i told myself that it was important to show up and act like a writer even when i didn't feel like one, because even though i hadn't been writing, i reassured myself, i still was a writer. but sometimes the words f

love beyond all imagining

"He died not for men, but for each man. If each man had been the only man made, He would have done no less."— C.S. Lewis

What a wonderful thought -- that Jesus died for each of us, just so we could be with Him, and be His children. The thought that He would have died only for me, when I am far from deserving, is almost beyond my comprehension. The love He showed us on the cross is truly love beyond all imagining.

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