https://www.facebook.com/454016524451697/

Barefoot, Brave, and Bold, Beloit, KS (2026)

08/28/2026

Something I’ve brought up before, but feel I should address every once in a while…. I’m highly “pro-marriage” and definitely not “pro-divorce.” This is in spite of the fact that I support primarily divorced women… and am one myself. So what’s the deal? Perhaps it sounds confusing… and being candid, it used to be confusing to me too.

Marriage was given as a gift by God with certain instructions. Men were instructed to love their wives as Christ loves the Church and women to respect their husbands. When two flawed humans join in a marriage, perfection can’t be expected and shouldn’t be. It can be hard, a struggle at times and even a disappointment from time to time. Because the two are partners, they are designed to stand together as they face hardships coming at them from various directions.

What marriage was not intended to be was mere survival for years on end. The source of pain we naturally experience in life, shouldn’t be coming year after year FROM the person who vowed their love to us. The hardest part of our lives, consistently shouldn’t be because of behaviors and words from our spouse.

I AM pro marriage
…. And pro safety (physical, emotional)
…. And pro connection
…. And pro “not not having to think about escaping abuse
…. And pro understanding instead of battling

I don’t celebrate… ever… the concept of divorce though I’ve celebrated some women choosing safety. I celebrate myself choosing safety and a whole new life that showed me I am loved and chosen by God.

In a perfect world, divorce would not be necessary. In a fallen world, many people have learned how to, TOGETHER , love and respect one another. It always takes both. I applaud them. Other times, one or both can’t / don’t find that path, causing grave harm and brokenness. It is then that we go to the one who does love and choose us… the One who restores brokenness.

08/25/2026

Before school started, a couple “mom friends” and I took our 6 girls for an outing. To be clear, I’m the “grandma friend” of the bunch… considerably older than the other 2, who are the moms.

We took them to a splash pad where they ran wildly in the spraying water, laughing. Of the six, only one brought a toy of any kind… a little 2” metal car. The six of them took turns sending that car blazing through fountains of water and watched it fly and land back on the cement. Eventually, they all laid their towels beside the splash pad and sun-bathed… about 15 minutes, their little bodies resting from their play.

Six little girls, all just a week from entering pre-school, kindergarten or 1st grade. A carefree summer day and a new horizon for each. Though excited about school, they (or we, the parents/ grands) can hardly imagine all the next nine months will bring.

After the splash pad, we jaunted over to the Dairy Queen. Ice cream!! They ate and chatted at a “kid’s table” while we adults sat at the one next to them, giving them just a bit of independence.

The photo was taken as we left, tummies full of sweetness, friendships celebrated, water soothing them on a hot day. I look at this and see them walking, hand-in-hand toward their futures. May they always have some friends to walk beside, some joy to spill over and a future of hope. May God bless and protect them always, on their way. May He do the same for your beloved children and grands.

08/25/2026

When I backed out of my driveway on an October morning, 2017 there is no way I’d have believed these words (in the photo). I wasn’t really expecting or even hoping for good things…. I was just wanting some of the bad aspects of my life to cease. Truthfully, I just wanted to breathe a fully inhaled breath and let it go. My desires for the future weren’t monumental… just wanted to survive.

As the first months crept forward, I felt relief to live in a peaceful, quiet place but I did start to “want more.” That was a double-edged sword. While it planted seeds of hope, it also shined a glaring light on my reality. That reality was that I was living in a “borrowed” home (from my church), with an income of $615 a month and no idea how or when that would change. I was disabled from PTSD and severe joint pain, but was in year 2 of waiting for any disability income. I was alone, which at the time felt lonely even though safer than sharing a space with my husband.

One of my children was highly distressed by my move away from his dad and not talking to me. My little companion Kenzie, a silver miniature schnauzer was fading in health. Several long-term friendships weren’t faring well in the wake of my decision to leave.

There were many hard months ahead of me.

But God…..

Still had a plan for my life (Jer. 29:11) and my best days truly were ahead of me, despite my foggy vision. Since that time, there has been more joy than I could imagine. Restoration, improved health, old relationship restored, new ones built. A darling, homey abode. Yeah, even income.

AND… Grandchildren!

Life would unfold in ways that I couldn’t even dream or hope for…. And I was 59 years old. Maybe if you’re in that early hard, sad place I can’t convince you that there is still beauty in front of you. But I surely hope I can give you a glimmer of it…. I hope you can find a mustard seed of faith and a dab of hope.

08/24/2026

After an arduous time of healing, I knew I was to reach out to other women who had experienced marriages which were abusive, hurtful and oppressive. To say that God has given me a “front-row seat” to other women’s rocky paths isn’t an exaggeration… and it’s definitely not said with any disrespect.

I’ve seen marriages that were/are like mine. I’ve seen some way worse than mine. I’ve seen marriages with infidelity and a few with physical violence (though emotional abuse has been much more common). I’ve seen the women left in the aftermath, dazed. Some barely functioning…. And having been a nearly non-functional divorcee myself, I haven’t been intimidated by that.

I always find myself wanting them to have something which isn’t mine to give… peace. And at the same time, I know that is unlikely to come quickly… many more steps demand to be taken before peace will come. Over time I learned many strategies for dealing with my own grief but ultimately, the thing I wanted was… the same, exact thing… peace in my soul. I couldn’t manufacture it for myself and I can’t give it to others. I can only point in the direction I know it can be found.

All I can really do is tell them that much of my story was like theirs… crushing, confusing and seemingly as long as an endless night. I can tell them it’s acceptable to grieve and that two things can be done at once…. ache and heal. I can tell them what I learned from wonderful authors like Lysa TerKuerst, that our feelings aren’t always reliable but that God is. I can tell them that the more I surrendered, the more peace came.

I can tell them not to ever give up and to keep leaning in, to keep opening their hearts to the God who saw it all and wants to heal them. Real healing. Not a band-aid. Not a tougher skin. Not a bitter heart. He has healed me even more, while walking with them. And so we trod… and sometimes fall… and rise again. We wipe tears. It is my honor to walk along side them, on the way. I may be able to see a bit further down the path than they can, having traveled it already. Let’s walk toward Peace… together.

08/22/2026

After I realized that what I’d lived in my marriage really WAS abuse (being intermittent made it harder to determine) and after I received a PTSD diagnosis, I began to work toward two things: escape and healing for myself. In that complex process, I accepted some labels that helped me explain what had happened and what I needed to do.

These were some of the labels and were true at the time:

*Abuse and trauma “survivor” (though I questioned my survival at the beginning)
*wounded
*broken

Yes, my experience of abuse and other tragedies had made me those. And in a different way, living as a human, had also made me those things. Sin in the world create those things for humankind … others’ sins and my own.

About a month ago, I was attending an incredible weekend retreat where I had some real “encounters” with God. One of the directives I heard plain as day… “lay down those labels.” Generally, I’d already quit referring to myself as wounded or broken (from the marriage) but I still clung to “abuse/ trauma survivor.” It seemed so appropriate and descriptive of what happened. Honestly, I was pleased by the healing work I’d done and more than that, grateful to God for His hand in all of it. But it seemed very clear… I wasn’t to refer to myself that way any longer.

Then the new word came to me. Restored. Though I’ve been a Christian many years and as Believers we are told that we are “made new,” it became so clear to me that God had miraculously RESTORED me from the years of marital dysfunction… really, made me new even yet again.

I will still talk about abuse and trauma as I reach out to women. Those words aren’t wrong or even misused for many who have been severely hurt in their marriages. But when one has been RESTORED, it’s a blessing worth grabbing securely on to.

Interestingly enough, the organization I volunteer with, “Called to Peace,” soon after announced that their groups would not be called “support” groups any longer, but “Restore Groups.” I think God is really telling us in the community of women reclaiming their worth…. That He intends to fully restore us, not just help us survive. Aim high ladies! Ask Him for full RESTORATION!

08/21/2026

In 2012, my then- husband and I had a trip planned to the Holy Land. I truly looked forward to “walking where Jesus walked,” and seeing sites I’d read about in the Bible for most of my life. The occasion was our 25th anniversary and the trip was to occur about 2 months after the actual date of the milestone. As the trip neared, the bags were packed. I can still “see them,” in my mind…stuffed, sitting by the front door. Then came Hurricane Sandy, wrecking havoc on the East coast.

I don’t live on the East coast but our connecting flight there was unavailable for days due to that fierce storm. The disappointment was immense but the bags were unpacked. Eventually, the trip was rescheduled for February 2013. And he (the husband) had a major medical procedure scheduled for those dates. We were able to get our money back and used it to finish paying off our house.

What were a husband and wife, plagued by marital difficulty and the wife emotionally crumbling by the weight of it, for years, doing?? Planning a trip to the Holy Land? Why not a romantic get-away? Why not reliving our honeymoon trip?

Well, the entire marriage (even when it was horrendous and unbearable) had been “surrounded” by all things… faith. Church, life groups, prayer gatherings, marriage encounter, Sunday school classes about marriage. He went to Promise Keepers. I went to Bible Studies about marriage. He was an elder and a “worship leader.” I was a leader in the women’s ministries. Our marriage “looked good” but it was anything but good. In public, it was one thing and quite another behind the closed doors. I protected his image, sensing it was the most important thing to him. He treated me like a queen… if and when someone was watching… so that he’d look like the adoring husband. That would literally be turned off like a switch…. Inside of our home.

The fact that it “appeared good,” was the very thing that kept me there so long. I always thought it was going to get better. I clung to the promises of changes… that they would stick the next time. I repeatedly forgave the name-calling and put-downs and the yelling. I hoped. I was committed… I was willing to stick out the hard parts… and they were nearly all hard parts. 😢

And it didn’t get better. Narcotics became part of the dynamic as he became addicted to them to manage physical pain, and I suspect, lifelong emotional pain. The later years were worse than the early years, which were plenty awful. The Holy Land trip was just one more attempt to fix something terribly, horribly broken and painful… our crumbling marriage.

After that, I began to let go of all hope of healing between us. For the next 5 years, in the midst of crisis after crisis (both marriage related and not at all marriage connected), I couldn’t hope for marital repair anymore. All I could do was survive… barely.

But God didn’t fail us/ me. Oh for a while, post-divorce, I thought He had. I still don’t know all the lessons I was to learn in those very hard thirty years. New learning and revelations continue to be shown to me, even now. But I do know that God gives people free will and in that, they can determine how to treat their spouse. God does perform miracles (I’ve witnessed them) and just because my marriage wasn’t strengthened and restored, doesn’t mean that God didn’t come through.

God has been incredibly faithful to me. In the book of Joel, He promises to “restore the years the locust has eaten.” He has done exactly that for me. He restored me. And I am immensely grateful.

08/20/2026

Earlier I had a discussion (and it really was a very respectful one) with someone very worried / concerned about AI emergence.

I would never say that all the “monitoring” of people and “knowing our business” isn’t a concern. In fact there are many issues we’re all faced with that could create angst and worry.

I responded without anger but told her that I have come to the point where I have just quit worrying much about what I can’t control. That might sound complacent, but it really doesn’t come from a place of complacency. I actually can control very little.

At one time, I got really riled up about politics, along with a boatload of other things. Yes, I believe people should speak up and participate in processes for change based on values and convictions. There are things for which a stand is demanded.

Then I remember, as I told her, I’ve been through more years of consternation than I’d like to count. I’ve wrung my hands over unfairness and injury. Lost sleep. Fought depression related to those things.

And now, here I am… in my twilight years. I could still worry. Or I could decide that all I might be distressed about is out of my hands. And mostly, I’ve done the latter. And when I do, I’m happier and healthier. I’m calmer and more satisfied with my life.

In these last years of my life I approach it like this: I try to make a difference in realms I truly care about. I seek to manage my own life as well as I can so that my needs don’t burden others too extensively. I yearn to know my Creator more intimately than I ever have. I don’t have it all figured out… but I know the One who does. And most days, I have peace.

08/16/2026

I don’t know if the theology of this writing (photo) is perfect or not, but it surely resonates with me. I have recently had some months of wrestling with letting go of things…

Habits….like responding to strangers on fb about how I see things differently than they do. 🙄 That eye roll is directed at ME!

Labels… like wounded, broken, abused. Those may have been accurate in the past but I no longer wear them.

Finances… I didn’t expect to struggle financially at this time of my life… and sometimes I do… but I am ALWAYS provided for and often can help someone else.

These probably aren’t as big as other things I’ve let go of and placed in God’s Hands in the past. But they converged together and it presented me with a need to really take a hard and thorough look at myself. And again, with some effort, I released my tight-fisted grasp, opened my hand, and told Him that He could have them.

This is what I know…. Anything I’ve ever been convicted to let go of… and give to God… and then followed through, has had an outcome better than I could have orchestrated. Maybe not immediately and often not in a way I imagined. But better. Almost always WAY better.

Others may look at what I’ve “let go of and given to God” and say that instead I “gave up.” Some of the internet strangers have told me that… about my marriage. Oh my! May I never argue with a keyboard warrior again! It isn’t even the itsy-bitsiest about them. It is a waste of my time and energy!

May I keep my hands open. May I trust in His plan, greater than my own.

08/14/2026

In the support group I lead, recently we were discussing “victim vs victor” mindset. Though a concept with which I was very familiar, and even taught about at one time in my life, I did allow myself to sink into victim mindset during the last years of my marriage and to a lesser degree (but still present), during my separation/ early divorce.

It was pretty natural (or so I thought) to think about all the ways my life was unfulfilling, unfair and harmed by another. I ruminated about my losses…. My family as I’d known it… splattered, financial hits, friends that didn’t remain close. I was upset that the man I’d worked hard to support through all kinds of health and career struggles hadn’t reciprocated. Wow, I’m just getting started with my list of grievances! But I’m GOING TO stop right there. You get the idea… I had a long, exhaustive list.

Those thoughts, no matter how accurate or readily accessible to my brain…. don’t move me into healing. While it may be necessary to acknowledge them, mourn them, and shed some tears, the longer I turn them over, like churned butter, the more they turn me into a victim…. Angry, bitter, inconsolable. Those things don’t just take over my mind. They take over my body. The pain and damage sits in my joints, my back and in my blood vessels (hypertension).

If I wanted to heal… and I did… I HAD to focus much less on what I’d endured and more on what I was becoming (hopeful, independent, the owner of a sweet little home, etc….) . It didn’t happen overnight. It took a lot of practice. Actually, it took years, some stern talks with myself, but also some grace toward this woman, living broken. I had to be kind to me and let myself know that I didn’t deserve to add more distress to my life through rumination.

Stuff happened…. AND BY GOD’s GRACE, here I am… still standing. Healing is lots of things and there are many paths… but our mindset (shedding the victim role), is a core essential. Choose to be victorious… please. The opposite will just keep us stuck.

08/13/2026

In all honestly, I spent nearly a decade joyless. Depression had its grip on me. Life was hard every single day. Mini moments of joy came but they were fleeting. I didn’t have any idea how to “capture” any joy because I lived in the torment of a despairing marriage and then in more years of trying to heal.

So was that “just it?” Give up and wait for the end? I did feel like giving up sometimes… but I didn’t do that. I was lacking hope much of that time, but somehow I hung on to “mustard seed sized faith” and joy returned.

Actually, that exact story is for another day but I will tell you… it returned amazingly, miraculously, and undeniably as a gift from God.

We are told to “count it all joy” and I failed for a long while. I simply felt so beat up by my living situation and the abusive treatment that my nervous system was shut down from “normal” functioning and in “protection mode” 24/7. I wish I’d done better but the last thing I’m going to do now is beat MYSELF up for missing that mark. Still, I didn’t quit. I’ve attached the verse that tells us why that is important to “count it all joy” and I totally get it, now that I’ve learned to do that again.

I’ve also attached photos of my current favorite T-shirt. Now, I’m able to find joy, even in hard things. I’ve seen so much evidence that what “looks lost” or “looks like the end,” are not lost or the end at all. There are miracles yet to come.

Barefoot, Brave, and Bold

08/28/2026

08/25/2026

08/25/2026

08/24/2026

08/22/2026

08/21/2026

08/20/2026

08/16/2026

08/14/2026

08/13/2026

Address

Website

Alerts

Contact The Practice

Shortcuts

Share

Category

Listing takedown request