Spiritual Formation

It’s Valentine’s Day (again).

I’m single (still).

On the surface, I go to church because I should, because I said I would, and because I want to model church attendance to my kids. But, if I can step outside my negativity and sense of drudgery about it, I remember that I go because I’m part of a family.

In 2003, I stepped off the train I’d taken from Chicago, in awe of God’s goodness. 

Growing up as a youth group kid, I always craved the “Worship Tinglies.”

I had some pretty high expectations for Urbana 12.

I’m still in awe.

The Christmas story is startling. 

I remember sitting on a couch a couple years ago across from my spiritual director explaining why I felt like a failure. 

Six years ago, I was stuck in a major spiritual rut.

For the first twenty-two years of my life, I had a very normal relationship with food. And, though I knew a few people who’d had eating disorders, I didn’t really understand what caused them.

Then I developed one myself. It wasn’t until I started processing my own journey and heard stories from others who’d suffered for years that I began to realize how incredibly complex and multifaceted eating disorders are.