A healing journal can be whatever you need it to be. For me, I need a place to share some of my soul. This journal takes place in Lansing and Kalamazoo, MI. I am not afraid to heal. There is no filter on this post, because my best work comes from a truly awesome and terrifying place. No cliches here, just me unexposed and in the raw. Because I'm not afraid. I have a cousin who I didn't know too well growing up, because she was older. I called her "Cousin Fran" because I was taught to give titles to adults, even family member adults. She was always sweet to me, and I was the flower girl in her wedding. I remember I got to wear lipstick, and my cousin kissed me to transfer some of her excess lipstick onto my lips. I felt like a goddess the rest of the day. This same cousin now has breast cancer. She is going to write a book soon. What will it be about? I don't know, but I know it will be real and raw and unafraid. I wrote on her Facebook the words "No...

A healing journal can be whatever you need it to be. For me, I need a place to share some of my soul. This journal takes place in Lansing and Kalamazoo, MI. I am not afraid to heal. It's like being chased Sooner than later it's going to catch up with you And if it doesn't kill you, the running will. It's like taking medicine to solve your tummyache And it won't stay down And you know the tummyache's gonna come back, over and over. It's like staring at your reflection And you make a face Yet your reflection doesn't move You walk away and it stays behind, still staring at where you were. It's like screaming and kicking and scratching at flesh And biting and growling and howling till hoarse While your mouth smiles and your eyes brighten Talking to someone you like It's like an insurmountable rage Surly and intensifying Crawling up your throat, which tightens uncomfortably And escapes as a tear or two That's what my p...

A healing journal can be whatever you need it to be. For me, I need a place to share some of my soul. This journal takes place in Lansing and Kalamazoo, MI. I am not afraid to heal. Sometimes having a physical place to go isn't enough. Remember all the stories about ghosts and the paranormal you've heard? The lore is that when a spirit doesn't know it needs to "pass over" it will continually try to find it's place among us, the living, wreaking havoc because it is tormented not knowing where it belongs or what happened to it. I felt the same way. I had couches and rooms from which to sleep, refrigerators from which to eat, faces at which to look but couldn't find my resting place. I felt like I was blocked by an impermeable glass wall. People's thoughts and feelings were muffled. I felt like I heard one thing and saw another. People were dropping away from me as if I carried an incredible stench. I knew it was because of my ghost, of what I repres...

A healing journal can be whatever you need it to be. For me, I need a place to share some of my soul. This journal takes place in Lansing and Kalamazoo, MI. I am not afraid to heal. In September 2012, I began an awesome adventure. I decided that I had received a divinely orchestrated opportunity to study under the worship team/ministry/group at Mt. Hope Church in Lansing, MI. As a young girl, I had visited this church because I had some family who attended, and we would go to Christmas, Easter, and Halloween/luia events there. I particularly remembered being a young girl walking down the hall of that building, feeling the something that was there; it was a feeling of something mysterious and unseen, a strong presence that lifted my spirit. I had never felt that feeling at my own church or anywhere else. I had seen other people who seemed like maybe they felt it, but I didn't. I knew that church was a special place. Fast forward many years later to adul...

JOB DESCRIPTION     A working mother is any woman who is caring for a child or group of children and providing or supplementing partial provision for them in the guise of housing, food, supervision, education, character building, and emotional investment. The ideal working mother works in partnership with a working father, and unfortunately according to recent US studies from 2005-2009, over 13 MILLION parents are single parents (84% of which are single mothers) raising 26% of the population considered to be minors (under 18 years of age).   According to this website (  http://singleparents.about.com/od/legalissues/p/portrait.htm ) on the statistics of single parenting, many parents started out in committed relationships and never intended to become single parents! Most single moms are over age 40 and divorced. Women who were never married are close behind them on the single-parent trend. So we already have many working mothers who are not in partners...

Good morning! It's 9:00 am, the morning of my 26th birthday, and so much has happened. Opening my eyes this morning, I didn't think as I have so often in the past with giddy excitement "Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, birthday, birthday, birthday! Me! Me! Me!" or something to that effect. I woke up, thinking how annoyed I was that my daughter was screaming in contempt of something her older brother was doing in the room next door. My newborn son (well, 11 weeks old) was next to me kicking me in my chest (bare chest) since he snuck into the bed during the night to nurse. He was, of course, kicking in his sleep so he got a free pass-this time. Then my husband comes in, leans over to kiss my forehead before heading off to work, and says "Happy Birthday." What??? Wow. I forgot. Again. He had told me "Happy Birthday" at midnight just before bed last night, and again I exclaimed, "Oh wow. I forgot again!." I don't have a great memor...

So, I was pregnant at 20; brand new boyfriend (of 3 weeks), senior year of college at stake, all my life plans for the time being hovering menancingly in my face telling me I would have to choose. I said "Screw you!" What life didn't know about me was that I was a determined motivated driven individual who scoffed in the face of unwed pregnancy. I knew the stigma, shame, and judgement that was coming, and I was prepared for it. Poor Amy, she was just shell-shocked at the new demands and responsibilities. I, on the other hand, had lots of first-hand experience at caring for children/babies. My mom ran a daycare and I was often recruited to help. I cared for my newborn cousin/foster brother-turned adoptive brother when he was fresh in from the hospital, having NO prior experience in being left alone with a colicky newborn. That was hard. My sister had my first nephew when I was seven, and I loved helping with him and his sister when she was born when they were at our hous...