Amanda Phillips with “I am NOT my mental illness”
(note: Amanda is a former classmate of mine at Wofford. She is awesome.)
I have a mental illness.
I am not my mental illness.
I am not bipolar.
I am Amanda Eileen Phillips.
I am kind and have a heart full of love that lives for throwing dinner parties and dance parties in Bath and Body Works. I am a student. I am a work in progress. I am a rap music aficionado and a spin class addict. […]
There is a very big difference between what I have and what I am.
Antonio Spadaro interviews Pope Francis in “A Big Heart Open to God”
I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner.
Brian Valley with “Ten Thousand Pieces of Crumbling Faith”
I used to have faith because it made sense. […] As almost everything that I used to call faith has fallen apart, I now see more clearly the center of all things–Christ. I see Jesus in my literature classes, in reading Plato and Dostoevsky and Marx. I see Jesus in people who don’t call on His name. I see Him more clearly in the church, in the mountains, in pain, in joy, in suffering and forgiveness. I see Jesus more clearly in myself. Suddenly Jesus is showing up in all kinds of places I didn’t know he was allowed to be.
Best Christian Music Video…Ever:
Gungor with “I Am Mountain”
Currently on my Kindle:
“I was stunned that Good Friday by this familiar but foreign story of Jesus’ last hours, and I realized that in Jesus, God had come to dwell with us and share our human story. Even the parts of our human story that are the most painful. God was not sitting in heaven looking down at Jesus’ life and death and cruelly allowing his son to suffer. God was not looking down on the cross. God was hanging from the cross. God had entered our pain and loss and death so deeply and took all of it onto God’s own self so that we might know who God really is. […] God is not distant at the cross and God is not distant in the grief of the newly motherless at the hospital; but instead God is there in the messy mascara streaked middle of it.”
– Nadia Bolz-Weber