Thoughts on The Giver, harmony, and love.

When I crashed and burned, it made room for a new paradigm—accepting who I am as an artist and what I truly want from my life. This year is looking brighter already.

Christians tend to grab a flag—and a sword and pitchfork—whenever we perceive that our “rights” or our “faith” are being threatened. But as the standard-bearers of Christ, are we really crusading for what we think we are?

Being an author, I have discovered, is nothing like anyone ever expects it to be. And today, I made a decision to go down a road in my career that surprised even me.

My 7 “No-Duh” tips for creating a happy, healthy relationship with your partner.

So often in the aftermath of tragedy, Christians who have been raised to think of God as their protection charm turn away, and atheists mock the impotence of the God we declare to be firmly in control. But is it possible we have God—and his view of human tragedy—all wrong?

You might think your story isn't that special, that you have nothing to give. But if you think about it, you'll probably realize that you have already learned some life lessons that others would benefit from. Have you ever wondered how your story might be a powerful blessing to others?

Mary DeMuth's biography on Facebook begins, “If you met Mary today, her joy would confuse you.” I love that. After all that Mary has been through, the fact that she is known by her joy (not surprising if you read even one article she has written) is a testimony to the healing power of Christ. His love shines through her like light through a stained glass window.

Two years later, we are still completely humbled when we consider the massive wave of support we received when Levi died. I am convinced that the support of our community through that first difficult year had a good deal to do with the progress we made in our healing. Yes, the work of grief must be done on an individual basis. But knowing that we were never alone had a significant impact on how brave we were in approaching that work.

I see you there, with your screwed-up face and your well-coiffed hair and your impatient gesture each time someone in the line in front of you dares to order one more thing. I was much like you for many years, and once in a while, I see your eyes looking back at mine from the mirror. May I remember that Kindness is Never Wasted. I hope you learn this, too, my Lady.

By opening up your heart and showing others your weaknesses as well as your strengths, you become more of who you are, and give others permission to do the same. Isn't that the most loving thing to do?

The theme of my life for the last several months has been about becoming brave. My life has become less about protecting myself, and more about how my life can bless others. Sometimes, the things I have done have cost me. But for the most part, they have helped my heart and my courage to grow. Here are some lessons I've learned on the way.

I know that sunflowers think their job is to propagate their species by creating seeds. But today? It was to teach me that even when we've been hammered by life, and everything seems wretched, and we are broken all over the ground, we can still be beautiful.

Bitter or better? We can choose how we heal from loss. It's all in what we focus on.

Every day is another step forward. Every day, grief morphs and whirls and changes into a different shape, like dancing aurora borealis. And lately, I have been surprised by joy.