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Endings

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Scott Henry Photography I am learning to appreciate endings Not just the happy kind And not the kind that screams, “Sequel!” or “their lives go as such” But endings True—perhaps upsetting—but Authentic endings In an age in which our phones are always open We get so very little closure Except silence As a teenager, I did not know That no one would call me to say that I was not being considered for that job at the market Their answer was silence I followed up And was told that my application Was more or less in a wastebasket Like the messages I had sent a stupid boy Who considered me not worth meeting In the movies I watched as a child, with my mother There were no unhappy endings She didn’t allow those in our house I remember watching one with her “Funny Girl” And sitting in shock as the credits rolled At having witnessed something so crushing That couldn’t be the ending, could it? I lived my life in similar denial Horrified by goodbye
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Who Stays {an original poem}

I imagined him a thousand times And every single time, he walked away Saw it coming; never even cried Experience said love could never stay They couldn’t convince me otherwise Oh, how I wanted to believe their song But each time someone leaves, something dies And they were the ones that proved themselves wrong “I told you so … goodbye.” Their words grew stale, then dissipated ‘Til the rare response that hurt more than silence Cut deeper than anticipated “Was,” “knew,” “had” – the bitter sting of past-tense “Love” becomes “once loved,” “stay” becomes “long gone” I lose all childlike faith in forever Along with the instinct to hold on “Wake up, heart! Wake up, wake up – whatever What help were you anyway?” I decided that I was worthless And then You came for me, Lord – You sought me out You chose me when I was still heartless Your wild love opposing each fear and doubt “I don’t want You!” I screame
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Leadership

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Leadership tip: You always want the ball to be in your court. I've always carried the misconception (as I'm sure many others have) that I needed to get the ball out of my court as soon as possible. I apologized constantly, any time I thought I had been too assertive or "babbly," as I used to say. I had no idea what to do in conversation and no clue how to run a business (bonus tip: those two things are linked). My pattern was to say my piece as quickly as possible and then to shut up so I could stop embarrassing myself. I shoved the proverbial ball at whoever I was talking to as quickly as I could. Lately I've been through a lot of personal and business development training for my small business . I learned so much about doTERRA, but the most surprising things I learned were about myself. I'm bigger than I thought, and I don't have to apologize for it. I have more to bring to the table than I thought, and if I don't show up, I do a disse
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Wake, O Sleepers

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Teachers and parents alike will often tell of the “light switch” or “light bulb” moment that they take great joy in. Some say it's the moment when everything seems worth it. When they can see the light switch get turned on in a child. There's a look in a child's eyes when understanding dawns, and something isn't pointless anymore. Words cease to be a string of letters. Abraham Lincoln is no longer just a solid name. A rule is not in place to inflict harm. The words of C.S. Lewis come alive. The variables x and y are no longer seen as letters that came in to screw math up. I work with children, and I love that moment. No matter how small, I love that moment. I love watching minds grow, and personalities take shape. Even better is when that moment becomes a turning point. Not only do letters become words, but words become what dreams are made of. Behold, the next great author or orator. I know God invented that look; that spark in us. I believe that
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Love Comes Running

I have a plant on my bedside table that makes me jealous.  This plant seems to have achieved more growth in the past four months than I have in the past year.  It's delicate, strong, and challenging all at once.  It's defying the boundaries I gave it, and thriving despite the fact that I didn't pot it properly.  I named it after Ella Fitzgerald, and honestly, it's hard to sit next to the pretty, successful thing.  I've felt this way next to people. Next to stories.  I've wanted to make myself smaller, invisible. Just because I felt I was coming up short, and ::ahem:: THIS IS WRONG, THESE ARE LIES. ::excuse me:: I keep on crawling deeper into myself, as if I'll find meaning or comfort there, and all I find is humanity, in all its lack; all its depravity.  Now, what to do, what to do? Where to go with all this need?  Up.  Out.  I have Someone safe in my corner who always wants to help me up, help me out.  So He
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if you're listening

This is a funny sort of place to speak my heart now. I haven't done it consistently in a long time. It's something I want to change. I need to process in a healthy, productive way. But lately this blog has felt a little like a white wall. I know that's flawed thinking, but I could do with a show of hands. If you're out there, quietly receiving these words in your email If you check back once in awhile for new posts If you read my blog when I share it on other social medias If you're listening ... Click the title, open the webpage, get over here. And leave me a comment to give faces to this white wall. Maybe tell me when/why you read this? Share what you'd like to read more? Thank you in advance.
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One Year Later

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This time last year ... exactly this time last year, I didn't see the sun. I can't remember it shining, even now, unless I force my mind to realize, that logically, it must have. The sun must have been shining almost every day as my heart hemorrhaged. The days bled into one another like the soggy mascara I eventually gave up on. I bit at my lip and pulled at my hair as I tried desperately to fix my eyes on truth; tried desperately not to let everything be pulled into and tainted by my sorrow. The sun is shining now and I wrestle with it. This shining has significant implications. I have to admit, the sun must have been shining then, too. If it sounds like my mind is spinning in circles, I apologize. It is. My heart aches as I let my memories of a year ago resurface. The series of events that felt like a thousand good things withering away in my hands. I let go of dreams, let go of plans, let go of hands I thought were mine to hold forever. My pastor said so
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