Inside Bell's Brain

I mentioned in a recent post about the prevailing societal standard for womanhood: martyrdom on the altar of exhaustion.  Whether we like it or not, it's true.  Whether we accept it or not, it's true.  It's not a glamorous, Hollywood-style view of femininity (although that's a huge expectation of our phsyical bodies), but it is nonetheless the prevailing standard of measuring whether a woman is keeping her value and worth.  How exhausted is she? But when did this become the norm?  Why is this even a thing?  We know that we cannot pour from an empty cup.  We know that time spent taking care of oneself isn't wasted and it certainly isn't selfish because it helps rejuvenate us to continue our servitude.  Yet somehow, we've all been suckered into believing that taking time for ourselves is selfish.  How dare we?  When there are husbands and children and aging parents and neighbors and friends and relatives to care for, how dare we take a minute to refocus and re

This summer I finished reading the book Present Over Perfect: Leaving Behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living .  While I certainly don't agree with all her doctrinal statements in the book, I found it to be an overall easy and encouraging read for the discerning woman.   I have been very encouraged lately at the number of female authors I've observed who are owning their authenticity through transparency.  It's what I've always striven for, but to be honest, I felt I've been fighting the fight alone.  I recently posted the following meme to Facebook, and I find it to be incredibly true.  When you're open about your struggles, people are quick to label you: crazy, high maintenance, dramatic, needy, clingy, miserable, intense, psycho.   But when did being authentic, transparent, vulnerable, and honest become such a sin?  (Side note: I'd argue that it's not one and that the people who this really bothers aren't secure within themselves.

Monday night was hard. I saw so many teachers excited to return to school to see their students. And it wasn’t that I wasn’t ready to see my babies again!    I’ve missed them!    It’s the fear of another year of unknown that had me (has me) burdened.  When I woke up this morning, along with many other educators locally and abroad, I joined in the tradition to post my school day prayer on social media. And I froze. I literally didn’t even know what to ask God for. Who has ever been prepared to teach in a global pandemic like we’ve had to this year? So I reflected on what would really be needful. And two big ideas came to mind: love and grace. Not just for my students and not just for my coworkers. I need love and grace for myself too!    The unprecedented circumstances of this year are going to require courage and flexibility of us. And that’s no problem because teachers always rise to the occasion. But it’s also true that we’re navigating unchartered territory here, and we are bound to

I've been in quite a state lately.  I am from time to time, to be honest, but what folks don't seem to understand is that it's not my choosing.  I try desperately hard to control my thoughts, to manifest peace and God's glory in my struggle, yet sometimes this season or this diagnosis seems to be the thorn in my flesh.  The battle to which God says, "My grace is sufficient"... because here I am still struggling.  Still fighting.  And though there have been improvements, the burden hasn't completely been lifted from me.  You see, I've learned of some people who've said some REALLY hurtful things about me behind my back.  And if we're honest here?  The childhood rhyme is bogus because sticks and stones DO break your bones AND words strike unimaginable pain in the heart of a compassionate soul.  Someone trying to be a Jesus girl.  People chattering is nothing new though. But the pain of learning they have chattered about you - or in particular,