Grace
8 studies
Holiness Happens When We Stop Hiding
I was twenty-four, running through a park near Waynoka Avenue in Memphis. Mile two, maybe three. The cold air burned my...
Look!
When I was in middle school, another student loved to torment me with cruel nicknames. The one that hurt the most? "Tubb...
Look at Jesus · Part 5 of 5
The Word is With Us
My Mom said the rocks would be amazing. I believed her, but sitting in the car for hours made me wish I was back home. S...
Look at Jesus · Part 3 of 5
The Debt You Could Never Repay
I was at Crunch, on the second rep of my bicep curls, and without warning, I nearly dropped the weights. "I just want to...
God's Grace Is Enough
I remember staring at my phone, willing myself to pick it up, but my arm felt like lead. I needed to raise support to ke...
The Weight of a Fresh Calendar
A fresh paper planner smells like anxiety. It's the feeling that if you can just organize the boxes right, you can final...
The Exhaustion of Self-Creation
When Facebook first arrived at my college, I remember the rush to set up a profile so everyone could know who I was, wha...
When Prayer Feels Like a Performance
My friend and I met up in Bellingrath Chapel at Rhodes College, where we'd agreed to pray together for an hour. The sile...
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