No, I don’t want your products. Yes, I still want to be friends.

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To be fair, I’m a blogger. I get it. Marketing is an essential piece to any business or brand.

And every so often, I get that same awkward eye contact that you do by a friend. They worry that somehow they’ve disappointed you by not supporting your efforts, your passion.

But, for myself, I have nothing tangible to offer – only words of encouragement voiced from the trenches of early parenthood.

So I know it’s different. But I want to share a secret that I’ve learned to overcome the psychological distress of rejection.

People who love you don’t always say “yes”.

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Small Talk

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The Gratitude Gospel: Day 10

Okay, so I’ve missed a few days. The thing about writing about your life is, well, sometimes you just can’t blog about what happens in your day.

Small things happen that no one else will find interesting.

Big things happen that you can’t really share…at least not at the given moment in time.

But today, I was reminded of the deep love I have for something so fleeting in our technology-mediated world: face-to-face small talk.

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When Jesus Is Gay

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Once upon a time, a little girl learned about Jesus. He had a beard, just like her father, and the bluest of eyes. The Bible told her that he was a warm man – the kind who never met a stranger.

But the sermon always took a Southern Baptist turn for the worse when homosexuality was mentioned. What happens to those who are intimate with the same sex?

Hell.

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Letter to a College Football Coach’s Wife

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Dear B,

You are a daughter, a sister, and a mother. To the greater world, however, you are largely known as a college football coach’s wife. When we first met, you chose not to volunteer the latter. You positioned yourself as a preschool mother ally and, in doing so, earned my deepest respect.

I know today must be difficult. When your husband’s team wins, the world laughs with you. When they lose, you fear for your life. Last night, the points did not fall in our favor. I didn’t see you at pick-up.

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Date Night, within Reach

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“We’ll go on a date night.”

It’s a lie we tell ourselves over and over and over again. The truth is, when our parents are in town, we get a little selfish. We, too, want attention – to be taken care of.

When you are raising your children several hours from your closest blood relative, it feels like all the hard decisions are yours to make:

Who will care for my child while I work?

Can we really afford what our family needs?

And how will I make it through the day without a backup quarterback?

In my own mothering, I have reached the danger zone: I want to give up.

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The Friendship Paradox

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Thirteen years ago, I graduated from high school, and my confession is this: I only actively communicate with one friend from the first 18 years of my life. 

When I was younger, someone told me that the older you get, the more you will long for the people who knew you when you were young. I couldn’t agree more and, in recent years, have found myself missing those childhood friends.

To where, then, do they disappear?

They go to college.

They invest in romantic relationships.

They pursue professional opportunities.

They have children.

This is the secret held by the other side of adulthood: Friends don’t keep.

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The Hands of a Bully

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…are small, even childlike, but they hold great weight: my fragile son.

At a churchwide picnic earlier this week, my heart dropped when I saw my son’s body, seemingly lifeless, fall through the air. I was making friendly parent conversation and my favorite toddler, up until that moment, was enjoying adventures on a large inflatable.

Somewhere in the endless plastic, my son cried out for me. When I finally extracted him from the bottom of the partially deflated slide, I embraced a trembling shell of my little boy.

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Grate Expectations

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I have a confession: I hate cooking. Really, I make a terrible Southern woman.

When I met my husband, his culinary expertise immediately hooked me. After our first food-inspired date night, I wanted to try my hand at chocolate fondue. I am quite good at following recipes, so I added a few ingredients to create the perfect luscious sauce. Only it was a disaster. And somehow it didn’t even taste like chocolate.

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