As soon as the words slipped off of my tongue, my son raised a brow. “You’re not ‘just one Christian woman’. Mom, you’re a powerful woman of God. You are a warrior.” Surprised by his assessment, I paused and then felt a prompting...
Like an old-fashioned nesting doll, my identity seemed buried somewhere within—a series of selves so well compartmentalized that I was unsure of who I’d become. Even as a young child, I was adept at acknowledging only those feelings and thoughts that I...
