Breaking Open

This has been a hard year. Like really hard. I have had plenty of them. The years I spent battling addiction were brutal. The first few years of sobriety were grueling. They definitely stand out as some of the most difficult years of my life. Some years are indelibly marked by loss, like the death of a loved one or the death of a marriage. But some years are just hard because life is hard. We have run-of-the-mill challenges. Money is tight. You moved across the country. You changed careers. You are in the decade-long grind of parenting little ones.

I didn’t have any of those things this year. On the surface, everything was status quo. Ken and I logged another year living aboard our sailboat, Remedy. We got to visit the Bahamas again. And we spent several months in Maine, which was magical! Over the course of the year, various family and friends spent 47 nights aboard with us in our very small, but cozy, floating home. We got to reunite with friends and family in Annapolis. There was so much to be thankful for and celebrate this year. To say that this year was hard does not diminish one iota of that. It was both delightful and difficult.

Most of what was hard this year was growing pains. God began revealing patterns in my life—ways I learned long ago to navigate people and situations. I became an expert at reading rooms, managing others’ emotions, and avoiding conflict. I learned to placate, pacify, and please. All of these strategies once protected me. But somewhere along the way, I’d made myself small.

I was having dinner with a friend recently, trying to articulate what this year has felt like. We talked about how I feel powerless in certain situations—hemmed in by old dynamics I’m trying to outgrow and by circumstances beyond my control. But also how I’m not without agency. How even from within this box, I’m trying to learn to push against its edges, to speak up, to set boundaries.

Our conversation reminded me of something my friend Suzanne said earlier this year. She pictured me like one of those Russian nesting dolls. Over time, I had become smaller and smaller, closer to the inner doll. But there, in the womb of these dolls, she could see God’s love, security, and safety helping me break free and grow more fully into who he created me to be.

God has given me plenty of opportunities to grow this year—opportunities to trust my instincts, to trust the Spirit within me, to use my voice, and to create boundaries. It has been uncomfortable. All of it has been hard and created tension, both within me and around me. My counselor warned me this would happen. People come to expect certain things from us, and when we start to change and break patterns they have grown accustomed to, we will experience resistance and pushback. And I can confirm that to be true.

For some in my life, it may seem like a departure, but for me, I pray it is a return—a return to myself, a return to the Lord. As my friend Ruthie often reminds me, this is what repentance looks like for me. But it is scary and hard. I feel a bit awkward and wobbly-kneed, like I am learning to walk all over again. Some days, I take a few bold steps. Other days, my knees give way, and I collapse in on myself. But I believe that if nothing changes, nothing changes. And I am ready for change, even if, in the near future, it means enduring growing pains. So I keep getting up, dusting myself off, and with God’s help, trying to take the next step.


A Glimpse At This Year

This year, through The WholeHearted Project, I was able to:


At the end of the year, many of you begin to consider year-end giving. If you are interested in contributing toward the creation of resources through The WholeHearted Project, I would be tremendously grateful. You can do so here.

To those of you who contributed financially to the WholeHearted Project this year, through paid Substack subscriptions or other donations, thank you! There are many people and organizations worthy of your investment. Whenever I feel discouraged and tempted to quit, your belief and investment in the work I am doing encourage me to keep going. I am not changing the world, but hopefully I am helping people encounter Christ and being faithful with what God has entrusted to me. Your support makes it possible. Thank you!

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Storytelling As An Act of Resistance Against Despair and Discontentment