by Maddie

This morning I took off my be strong  necklace. It was just a simple silver thing, a tiny pendant inscribed with those two inspiring words in delicate cursive.  And I took it off today. The necklace that I've been wearing daily for well over a year.  That doesn’t sound good, does it?  I removed this necklace because I’m not going to try to be strong anymore. You see, my anxiety has been bad - really bad - for the past four months. And I kept thinking it would get better.  Sur

Do you like feeling tired? I’m asking because I am. Right now. Tired. And I despise it.  You see, I know logically that feeling tired is part of life, part of each day, in fact. Chase a toddler around all day? You’re going to want a nap as soon as he does. Paint for hours on end? Yeah, that’s a lot of brain power being used up.  Or write. Like I am doing now. While I am tired. (This might not be the best idea.) Maybe you’re tired while you’re reading this. The Handiworks by M

You ever have one of those weeks? Where it just seems like nothing can go right? Yeah–been there done that. My last five days have put me through the ringer. Nothing drastic or tragic has happened, but a lot of small things have been adding up. Let me give you a play-by-play of my week: After spending the weekend home with my parents, my boyfriend and I made the trip back to Penn State… where my Fitbit band presently decided to break. (Thing #1.) Then, the work week started.

I grabbed a 375 degree pan last week. With my bare hands. Not my brightest move. It happened so fast and I was distracted and hungry and I forgot to put on my handy-dandy Pioneer Woman oven mitts. I didn’t feel anything at first, waiting a few measly milliseconds before my brain triggered my pain. Sharp and piercing, I sat the pan back down with a bang. Thoughts of self-criticism were already running through my head by the time I stepped over to the sink, dousing my hands in

I really like having long hair. It took me a while to convince myself that I deserved it though. It sounds silly, I know, but I had this weird notion that I wasn’t pretty enough to have long hair. But over the last few years, I’ve repeatedly told that lie to shut up . Beyond the fact that you don’t have to earn a hair style, the Lord has shown me that I’m a lot more beautiful than I give myself credit for. However, that’s not why I’m talking about long hair. For all of its be

Pain is unavoidable. Starting this off on a happy note, I know; but I’ve been pondering pain recently. A few weeks ago, I was talking to a dear friend of mine and something she said stuck out to me: she doesn’t like worrying because it makes her feel bad, so she just doesn’t. Period. Doesn’t like worrying, so she doesn’t. As someone with a biological and chemical presupposition to anxiety, I’ll admit, when my friend first said that, two thoughts entered my head: she’s naïve ,

Sometimes all you need is a good cry. I don’t really like crying, but it can help an awful lot. Yesterday was tough. My mind was racing with anxious thoughts, leaving me bogged down and sorrowful. Nothing seemed to be going right. Then I went numb. Last night I was working on a digital illustration for the novel I’m writing. After a few hours, I was almost finished. I went to click on another layer of the image and– It shut down. The program closed and when I tried to open it

I want to rest. Desperately. I’m craving it. So, I thought I would talk about it today. A few months ago, I painted this little watercolor bouquet and adorned it with the name "Enough.” Why would I choose such a word? Because I need that reminder every single day. I need to remember the fact that God has gifted me with His love and nothing I do can change that. He will never love me more and He will never love me less. And the same is true for you. Oftentimes, we are busy. Bu

I’m sick. Yuck! In light of this, I thought it would be fitting to share a little poem; I hope this reminds you all (and myself) of the hope our Heavenly Father has promised us. Please take heart as you read my writing from a few years ago: "Holy Healer" There is a holy book, a Holy Bible. His Holy Word. Holy is His Name. His Name is Jesus. King Jesus, our Savior, our Healer, our Redeemer. Nothing I ever say will encapsulate Him. He is too great, too awesome, too mighty, too

If you're new here, I'll let you in on a little secret: I like to paint... And this week's post is a bit different. Here's a watercolor painting of the kids that I have been babysitting! With a 3 year old and one year old twins, they have kept me busy, but I love being with them. As I have spent time with them, God has given me a glimpse of what love really is. Unconditional love is something that I have a hard time fathoming. How can I just BE loved? Don't I have to EARN lov

In honor of July 4th and our country's current division, I wanted to share some hope with you all... I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’m on an emotional roller coaster. These times are so bizarre, so full of angst. It feels like laughter can turn to tears at the flip of a switch. If you feel like I do, take heart in knowing that you're not alone. And if you are like me, you may feel frustrated with yourself too. When fear plagues and misery overwhelms, you may blame y

Oftentimes, I don’t know what I want to write about; I just know that I want to write. That’s how it's been the last few days, too, just on a whole other level. Since November, I’ve been dabbling in writing a novel. Maybe you know this, maybe you don’t. I’ve mentioned it a few times in my blogs (and if you’ve seen my Instagram reels, then you probably know exactly what I’m talking about), but I’ve never taken the time to explain my authorial mission here. I’m writing a book.

Who am I? The age-old question. We ask ourselves this abstract inquiry all the time, even if we don't realize it. When we mess up on a project, lash out at a loved one, fail in some miserable way, we think to ourselves, who am I? Or maybe more accurately, who have I become? Or, we could look at identity from a collective standpoint; as we look at the turmoil of our world, we may stand, mouths agape, and wonder who are we? I've been thinking about this a lot recently, if y

Do you ever feel like you’re not enough? But not just not–smart, attractive, successful, acknowledged, financially sound, admired, fill in the blank –enough. We can all feel that way at times, and I’ll let you in on a little secret: God made you good enough from the very moment He made you ( Gen 1:27-31 ). All those 'I’m not enough' thoughts are big fat lies from the Enemy because the Maker defines you and HE says you are good. So no, I’m not talking about the identity-based

I moved. Two days ago. A two hour drive, with two cars packed full of stuff, to an apartment I’ll be staying in for the next two months, because I want to be closer to the boyfriend I’ve been seeing for the last two months. I’ve always said three is my favorite number, but maybe it should be two. There are two, after all, in a romantic relationship, in a couple . But there should be three. There should be man, woman, and someone else… There should be Jesus. As I’ve been proce

I took this picture minutes after a severe (and I mean, severe ) rain storm. The sky was ashen and the air went frigid. As we were driving through this summer storm, we could hardly see the road ahead of us, the rain drops pounding relentlessly on the windshield. Many cars ended up pulling over, giving up on their journey, surrendering to the power of the storm. But we stayed. With my dad cautiously driving us along, my mom silently praying for our safety, and me in the backs

Two weeks ago I did something that had the potential of being the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. And let me preface this by saying that, from a medical standpoint, don’t try this at home. Two weeks ago I got off my anxiety meds. Cold turkey. If you’ve ever been on mental-health-related meds before, you’re probably cringing. When I made this choice, I certainly was. So why’d I do it? I had been talking (okay, more like sobbing) to my boyfriend on our daily Skype call, telling

Words are fun. I’ve always liked words. (Pretty obvious—I am a writer, right?) I love the way they look, sound, impact thoughts and feelings in such a potent way: Effervescent. Plethora. Foible. Smokehouse. Supercalifrag– Well, you get the idea. Words have power. And you know what one of my absolute favorite words is? Jesus . This word is not like other words because it is the Word. And the Word is the most powerful, otherworldly, miraculous word around. (You’re welcome for t

I had to go to the dentist yesterday. I didn’t like it. I never really like visiting that particular place. Now don’t get me wrong, I appreciate dentists and the work that they do, but boy, I do not like having someone poking around in my mouth. I know a ton of people don’t, and it doesn’t take too much imagining to fathom why: Lying back, vulnerable, with masked figures looming over you. Bright lights, sterile, practically blinding you. Stretching your mouth open, for at lea

I've been taking a trip down memory lane recently, and you know what I realized? It's been two years. Two years of fear and masks and derision and covid. I was just settling in when covid hit. Starting college had been tough; the fall semester was full of tears and sleepless nights… and, well, more tears. The transition to college life was one I greatly underestimated, and all of the changes sent me reeling. When I came back to campus for the spring semester, I was determined