idylls of the cat, or, a brief study of self-centeredness
Sometimes, I think that’s the thing. It’s a base instinct: If I don’t fight for my space, if I don’t yell loud enough and long enough, someone else is going to get what’s mine.
conversations about addiction, recovery, and faith
Sometimes, I think that’s the thing. It’s a base instinct: If I don’t fight for my space, if I don’t yell loud enough and long enough, someone else is going to get what’s mine.
Sometimes, my “better than” comes from wounds. Maybe yours does, too.
maybe love does not boast means I don’t need to prove how much I deserve love
Maybe it’s not the once a week, once a month, once a year date that glues a fractured marriage together.
Maybe it’s the every day . . .
I wonder whether there is anything that requires more patience than waiting for someone to become . . . “patience” seems inadequate for that sort of waiting . . .