"I had managed to keep my composure in the grocery store, and even when I was putting away my cart back to get my quarter back. But as I drove home, the tears came. I began the ugly cry."
"Tears-pouring-down-my-face, couldn't-talk-couldn't-breathe kind of laughing. Screaming laughing. So hard that I was sobbing because I couldn't get it together."
"I could feel hot, salty tears coming down my face. I sat and cried silently... I was scrunching myself up against the wall as far as I could. All of a sudden, someone from behind us taps on the guy’s shoulder..."
In churches across America, a quiet but consequential conversation is unfolding. It often begins with a question—sometimes whispered, sometimes posted publicly on social media....
"I prayed for my husband, but I prayed for the outcome I desired for him. I wasn’t praying for what he wanted, or even more importantly, for what God had for him."
"No one ever plans to ruin his life. Nobody makes failure a goal, or a New Year’s resolution, or an integral part of his five-year plan. Kids don’t dream about growing up to be an alcoholic; students don’t go to class to learn how to be bankrupt; brides and grooms don’t go to the altar expecting their marriage to fail."
"Harried, hurried, and weighted down. Struggling, striving, yet slammed flat anyway. Carrying far more than I was able, and feeling like I was a falling step behind. Always. But I knew one thing to be true. That feeling wasn’t what God had for me."
