The holiday season is just around the corner and your friends and family are probably asking what you want for Christmas. Here are a few things you should add to your wish list.
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The holiday season is just around the corner and your friends and family are probably asking what you want for Christmas. Here are a few things you should add to your wish list.
*This post contains affiliate links.
As a writer, I obviously believe in the power of the written word, but I believe in the power of the spoken word, too.
Proverbs 18:21 states “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.”
As writers, as women, we must choose to speak life over ourselves every day. Here are some affirmations to help you do just that:
Just make it until November 13.
That’s what I’ve been telling myself again and again over the past few weeks as I’ve battled my most recent bout of depression.
You can read Faithfully Feminist (Part 1) here.
For most of my childhood, I was oblivious to gender roles and stereotypes. I climbed trees faster and more fearlessly than the boys in my neighborhood because no one ever suggested that I couldn’t — or shouldn’t. My mother didn’t care if I wore dresses or jeans. My father was the one who cooked Sunday dinner and most other meals, too.
But it was the church that taught me girls were to be seen not heard. It started when I got kicked out of a vacation bible school class one summer at my cousin’s church for asking too many questions about Proverbs 31. When I got older and even more interested in religion, I told my Granny I had thought about being a preacher one day and she told me that would never be allowed because the Baptist church believed the pulpit was no place for a woman. This was long before I called myself a feminist, long before I even really understood what that word meant. Yet, when my well-intentioned grandmother said those words something stirred within me and gave me a command as clear as God’s to Moses through the burning bush: “Rebel!”
Long before the popularity of the “Jesus Is My Homeboy” T-shirts, I considered Jesus my BFF. More accurately, he was my hero, protecting me from the being much more terrifying than any imagined monsters underneath my bed — God.