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A Psalm for the Barbie in all of us
Today's world says women must be successful, get noticed, be thin, be charming, stand out, and be beautiful. We must be intelligent, talented, sexy, yet classy, bold, witty, organized, healthy, creative, punctual, and take perfect care of everyone around us. The list of roles we attempt to fill flawlessly is never-ending. Do I sound like the Barbie movie yet?
Trusting the Gardener
This past spring, we did a lot of work in our backyard. One of my favorite additions was the many container plants with gorgeous blooming flowers that now dot our entire landscape. Always a summer go-to flower are my sun-loving petunias. They are easy to care for and one of the most vibrant summer flowers I've found. I often grab them in pinks, purples, yellows, and corals. In the early part of the season, I feed them a little Miracle Grow, and these fun little beauties thrive! I mean billowing and cascading over the sides and bursting with lush colors. It's hard not to be filled with the sweetness of summer while gazing at them, and this year they overflowed.
Seeking After Treasure
I can’t believe I fell for it! I’m just like Eve! I think it all started innocently.
Do You Hate to Admit When You’re Wrong?
Pride hinders our relationship with God because refusing to acknowledge our shortcomings is an attempt to deny our imperfections. Whether we mean for it to or not, that implies that we are equal with God, and that robs Him of the praise and glory He deserves. We can’t be humble when we have things to hide.
Feminism With a Biblical Worldview
Perhaps the title of this article sounds like an oxymoron to you, but let me assure you, it isn't. It's no secret that there is much controversy over gender roles within the church today. In recent years I have heard of many sex scandals in news media involving trusted religious leaders and Pastors. I’ve listened to an uproar of people exclaiming women in the church are belittled or oppressed, and I sadly watched as a famous and well-respected Pastor openly shunned and mocked a fellow Christian woman for her leadership position in ministry. So regardless of your stance on this topic, the issue I raise today is likely not new to you.
Who is God and what does He want from me?
As I write, I look back upon a girl who was once blind to the magnitude of how mighty, powerful, loving, holy, and good her Heavenly Father is, and I wish someone had told me these truths sooner.
Why Don’t I Feel Like Them?
Whether it’s society’s endorsement of extroverts or my own personal insecurities, I determined early on that I wasn’t the right kind of mom, a good Christian or a loving wife. The world celebrates the “outgoing,” applauds the “never met a stranger,” and rewards the community organizers. Social media highlights the color coordinated group photos, the perfectly executed thematic parties and the more “followers” you have, the more important you are. If connections are currency, the world calculates our worth by the number of people in our orbit.
After years of comparing myself to others and appraising my worth based on their personalities, I’d concluded I was defective, so I drank to cope with high anxiety in social situations and low self-esteem in moments of self-reflection…
Following or Followers?
It’s been six months since I’ve posted to my Instagram account for my sobriety blog, www.thisthorn.com. And it’s been almost three years since I’ve added a new article to the site. I’ve been writing all this time, but not uploading any new content.
When I started my blog in the fall of 2015, I wrote endlessly about all my new feelings and experiences in sobriety. I’d never considered myself a writer before. I never journaled. But those first months of recovery, my emotions were raw. I was present for events and situations I’d previously been too numb to experience. I didn’t know what to do with all those feelings. So, I wrote to write. I wrote to expose, to process, to purge and to thank God.
Then the mind games started.
Is God Trustworthy?
The thorns get our attention because we feel their pain. Loneliness, isolation, stress, anxiety, and desperately desired but unanswered prayers poke us every minute of every day, reminding us there must be something better than this!
We must surrender our own way to fix things and remind ourselves that God’s will is better than what we think is the best way.
How can I be sure that I’ll make it to Heaven?
God's grace is so mysterious because we often feel like we don't deserve it, and we're exactly right. We don't. But He gave it freely anyway. Grace is absolutely scandalous! How could a seasoned criminal skeet by with a free pass? How could the adulterous woman be given a second shot? How could God look upon me as I was drowning in a sea of drugs, alcohol, and promiscuity and decide that I was worthy of His love?
Perfect Peace
Someone(s) is perfect. There, I said it. Behind the door marked “do not enter,” in that wing of my brain where guests aren’t invited, locked inside a secret safe with my files of fears, diary of shame and private collection of insecurities was the belief that perfection might be possible.
From Shame to Grace
Hi there, friend! I’m Mackenzie. I couldn’t be more excited for you to come alongside me on this journey. My hope is that we will grow in our faith together as we learn to walk more intimately with Jesus. I used to have this idea of what Christianity looked like. I guess I thought that we were supposed to arrive at our intended destinations while here on earth. I assumed that all true Christians had this faith thing completely figured out. And for a long time, I thought, I’m not like those people. I just don’t get it the way they do. I secretly hoped that one day I would arrive where they were. But today, I’m here to tell you that I’ve been trekking this Christian path out for a while now, and so far, the only place I have “arrived” is at the feet of Jesus.
What if I’m Not Enough?
“No one would like the real you,” whispered Insecurity in my head. You don’t fit in. You’re socially awkward. You aren’t as pretty, or as smart, or as sophisticated as them. Does that thought ever run through your head too? I was in eighth grade the day that insecurity slipped into my life and started to follow me around like an unwanted friend.