life. faithful.

Dear Daughters, Right now, the media (social and otherwise) is full of commentary from women about the Super Bowl halftime show. There are hateful words being spewed from both sides of the argument (a sad truth in any argument today--people seem to have forgotten how to communicate respectfully with each other), women who are accusing the other side of not honoring or respecting women. So what are you, a young lady trying to find your place in the world as you grow into a woman, supposed to think? Let me be one more voice--maybe a quiet one, but one I think you should hear--both in regards to the halftime show and that one pesky "make space for women" commercial. Okay, the elephant in the room--halftime. I'm going to be that crazy person that tells you not everything has to be one extreme or the other. In this case, that means there was good and bad in that show. First, that performance was by two women who put on quite a display of athleticism. If you've eve...

So, I had this post all written up about my one word for 2020. I only had a couple more sentences to add, and then I was going to hit the publish button. It was fitting--a strong word, one that would add to my "I can do it myself" mentality that I've had pretty much since birth. But God. He has this way of stepping right in the middle of my plans. It probably sounds horrible to admit, but it gets really frustrating at times. You see, I (probably not unlike you) like things to go the way I have them all mapped out in my head. I'm an analytical person, so every decision I make is researched and planned and debated before it ever gets put into play. I consider all the logistics and make sure that I'm making the best decision that will work out best for anyone and everyone involved...or so I like to think. If I'm being honest, it's more that I just want to be in control. Or maybe it's that I want to look like I'm in control when everything insi...

I'm finding myself in a raw place this Christmas season. I don't know what it is--I'm not typically a sentimental person. But this year, I find myself swallowing a lump in my throat and blinking back tears way more often that I would like. Grief is such a bizarre thing. Here I am, 15 years out, fighting tears as I'm driving down the highway. It hits out of nowhere, and it really doesn't care how inconvenient the timing. Like Sunday, after a bad day where I had made my husband, daughter, and son all frustrated with me (for different reasons--I'm talented like that). Then I had fought the crowd at WalMart, something I'm never a fan of, in search of gifts and stocking stuffers. I was driving home in the dark, which is already not such a great thing for me because my night vision is terrible. And there was the flag. After Michael's death, my family had a flagpole installed at the cemetery. There's a light shining on it at night so it doesn't h...

"Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." "Chase your dreams." "Go after what you want!" We hear it all the time, encouragement to chase after our dreams and keep pushing until we get what we're running after. It's the American Dream that everyone wants, right? Work hard enough, for long enough, and don't ever stop setting goals that are bigger and better and you'll get everything. Yet time and time again, the news is filled with stories of people who seemed to have everything...but no matter how much they chased after all the things and met all the goals and found reward on a large scale, their lives felt so empty and meaningless that they thought the only fix was to end it. I have to admit, I fall into the trap of thinking that if I can just make it to that next goal, just earn that next thing on the list, things will get easier and happiness will be a given. I stress and strive and work to make sure that "I can do it ...

I've debated whether or not to write this post. Even now as I type, I'm not entirely sure I'll hit that "Publish" button. You see, I'm not an expert on anything I'm about to say. I'm not a pastor, and I'm not a mental health professional. Thankfully, I have very little personal experience to draw from when it comes to the indescribably painful and messy thing that is suicide. When that suicide involves a pastor, I'm at even more of a loss. What I am, though, is the daughter of a pastor. So for just a minute I want to talk to you from that unique position. I became a "Preacher's Kid" the summer before 6th grade, when I turned 11. You know, that super peaceful time in a girl's life...right there on the verge of losing her mind in the preteen years. I had always been (and will always be) a daddy's girl. Pop was the pastor of a wonderful church in Bonner Springs, Rehm's Park SBC, until the middle of my junior year of ...

Sunday was the Norris family reunion, and I was asked to give the devotional. So, yeah...talking in front of people is probably my biggest irrational fear, and I have a physiological reaction to it each time. I'm not talking just something little like sweaty hands or something. I turn red--bright red that starts on my chest and quickly makes its way up to turn my face scarlet. My hands and voice get shaky, I start losing my voice (Nathan lovingly told me it was like I was a teenage boy in puberty...yeah, lots of support there), I barely breathe... You know, just exactly the type of thing you want to see in a speaker. I wrote out everything I was going to say, fully intending to "stick to the script" and just read. I could do that, right? I'm a writer, not a speaker; surely, though, just reading my writing wouldn't be that big a deal. And then, I started talking...and instantly I had this crazy thought that it would somehow be a bad thing for me to just ...

This isn't one of the counts I ever thought about keeping, the number of years since we last saw Michael. This year has been a rough one. As most people know, my wedding was moved to January so that my big brother would be there. I'll never regret that change because I don't want to imagine the other scenario. I have to admit, though, it's tough when your wedding day is also the last day you were with your big brother . I think I've been in a bit of a funk since January 3rd. I don't know why this year has been so hard. Maybe it's just because this is one of those "mile marker" type years...15. I've found myself being moody and contemplative and even a bit weepy at times, and I don't dare tell people what the heck is wrong with me...because then come the awkward silences and looks of pity that make me crazy. I saw this post one time, and it is a great picture of grief. It seems like the world thinks that after some set amount of time h...