Carry On, Warrior

1. Addiction is Hiding; Recovery is Waking Up.

Bulimia was hard, but it was easier than real life.

Hiding from pain. The author describes a lifelong search to fill a "God-sized hole" with various addictions like food, alcohol, drugs, and unhealthy relationships. These weren't just vices; they were a bunker, a way to hide from feeling awkward, unworthy, and vulnerable in life's battlefield. Addiction offered a false sense of safety and control.

The turning point. The cycle of filling and emptying the hole continued for twenty years, leading to increasing emptiness and despair, culminating in a moment of crisis: unwed, addicted, and pregnant. This led to a desperate prayer and a vow to quit everything, marking the beginning of sobriety and stepping out of hiding at age twenty-six. It was a weary surrender, not a bold march.

Waking up to life. Sobriety wasn't instant bliss; it was like recovering from frostbite, feeling pain again after long numbness. But facing the pain was the only path to getting her soul back and learning that she was strong and capable. This waking up allowed her to build a real life, including marriage, motherhood, and finding her voice through writing.

2. Truth-Telling Creates Connection.

I’ve never made a friend by bragging about my strengths, but I’ve made countless by sharing my weakness, my emptiness, and my life-as-a-wild-goose-chase-to-find-the-unfindable.

Vulnerability breaks walls. The author realized that presenting a "perfect" facade created distance and loneliness, even among friends. Hiding her past and struggles behind armor of secrets prevented genuine connection with others. She decided to shed this armor and risk being seen.

The Tess experiment. Sharing her messy truth – addiction, arrest, difficult marriage, postpartum depression – with a new friend named Tess was a terrifying experiment. Instead of rejection, it led to Tess sharing her own struggles, creating an immediate, deep bond and mutual support. This experience revealed the power of reckless truth-telling.

Ministry of authenticity. Rejected from traditional volunteer roles due to her past, the author found her calling in public honesty. By sharing her real, imperfect self, she aimed to make others feel less alone and better about their own insides. This openness became her "thing," proving that authenticity is more fulfilling than trying to impress others.

3. Marriage is Hard, Holy Work.

Love takes teamwork, I think.

Different expectations. Coming from different family backgrounds meant the author and her husband, Craig, had vastly different expectations for marriage and showing love. Early misunderstandings, like the infamous birthday incident, highlighted the impossibility of mind-reading and the need for explicit communication about needs and desires.

Facing reality together. Over time, the couple navigated significant challenges, including the author's recovery, financial struggles, and profound issues with intimacy and betrayal. These difficulties weren't reasons to quit but opportunities for hard, holy work. They learned that true love isn't effortless but requires conscious effort, forgiveness, and a commitment to keep trying.

Rebuilding intimacy. The revelation of betrayal shattered trust and forced a crisis, leading to separation and therapy. This painful process became a chance for a "do-over," a conscious decision to rebuild their relationship on a foundation of honesty and vulnerability. It underscored that intimacy requires knowing and being known, not just going through the motions.

4. Parenting is Brutiful: Both Brutal and Beautiful.

It’s helluva hard, isn’t it?

The "Carpe Diem" pressure. The author pushes back against the societal pressure to "enjoy every moment" of parenting, especially with young children. She argues that this expectation creates guilt and makes mothers feel like failures for finding the daily grind exhausting and difficult. Parenting is often more like climbing Mount Everest than a walk in the park.

Chronos vs. Kairos. She distinguishes between Chronos time (the slow, hard, minute-by-minute reality of parenting) and Kairos time (the fleeting, magical moments where time stands still). While most of parenting exists in Chronos, the Kairos moments make the difficulty worthwhile. The goal isn't constant ecstasy, but noticing and cherishing the moments of beauty amidst the brutality.

Embracing the mess. Instead of pretending parenting is easy or perfect, the author advocates for honesty about its challenges. She shares relatable anecdotes of meltdowns, chaos, and imperfection (like the vacuuming story or the Target tantrum). This shared reality fosters connection among parents and normalizes the struggle, reminding them they aren't alone.

5. Peace is Found in the Midst of Chaos.

Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it.

Seeking external calm. The author initially sought peace in quiet, controlled environments, like a silent yoga room, only to be frustrated by external disturbances like the "Smelly Coughy Guy." This highlighted the misconception that peace requires the absence of annoyance or pain.

An internal practice. She learned that true peace is an internal state, the ability to find calm within the distractions and difficulties of life. God, she realized, wasn't removing the chaos but providing opportunities to practice finding peace inside it. This shifted her focus from controlling her environment to managing her internal response.

Small disciplines help. Coping with chaos doesn't always require grand solutions; sometimes, it's the "small disciplines" that make a difference. Simple actions like taking deep breaths, using humor (like the paper bag strategy), or reframing a frustrating situation can help regain composure and perspective amidst the storm.

6. God is Found in People and Details.

Everyone is God speaking.

Seeing the divine in others. Inspired by figures like Mother Teresa, the author came to believe that God is not just found in scripture or prayer but is present in every human being. Being kind and gentle to others, paying attention to their unique qualities, is a way of getting closer to God by honoring His children.

Namaste practice. She adopted the practice of silently saying "Namaste" ("the divine light in me sees and honors the divine light in you") when encountering others. This simple act serves as a reminder to see the inherent worth and divinity in everyone, shifting her perspective from judgment to reverence.

God in the details. This expanded view of God also extends to the small, seemingly insignificant details of life. Stories like the tattooed elderly lady in church or the radio announcement about a lost dog illustrate how God's presence and care can be found in unexpected places and moments, if one is awake enough to notice.

7. Your Gifts Are Bridges to Others.

When we lay down our gift, we walk right over it and straight into another heart.

Recognizing unique talents. The author suggests that everyone has unique gifts, but we often fail to recognize them because we assume they are common. Identifying these talents is crucial, not necessarily for fame or money, but because using them brings personal joy and satisfaction.

Gifts create connection. Sharing these gifts with others serves as a bridge, creating opportunities for deeper connection and intimacy. Whether it's writing wedding vows, listening intently, hostessing, or capturing moments through photography, offering one's talent invites others into important parts of life and tangles hearts together.

Joy in the doing. The true value of a gift lies in the joy it brings in the doing, regardless of the outcome or external validation. Using one's gift is an act of self-expression and connection, a way to walk into another's life and memory, fulfilling a fundamental human need to connect.

8. Hospitality is Letting People In, As You Are.

True hospitality is welcoming the stranger on her own terms.

Fear of imperfection. The author struggles with hostessing, terrified of letting people see the mess and imperfection of her home and life. This fear of judgment prevents her from opening her physical space, contrasting with her willingness to be vulnerable through writing.

Hospitality redefined. She learns that true hospitality isn't about having a perfect home or serving fancy food, but about being present and welcoming people as they are, while also being willing to be seen as you are. It's about connection, not performance, like Mary choosing to sit at Jesus' feet rather than Martha's frantic preparations.

Opening the door. Facing her "hostressing" phobia, she throws an "unparty," inviting friends to bring everything and come in their pajamas. This experience proves that her friends love her, not her perfect home, and that opening her space, even imperfectly, allows for meaningful connection and belonging.

9. Brave is a Decision: Choose Compassion.

Brave is not something you should wait to feel. Brave is a decision.

Compassion as a signal. The author teaches her son, Chase, that the heartache he feels when seeing others hurt is compassion, God's signal to act. This feeling is a gift and a call to bravery, urging him to step in and help, even when it's difficult or scary.

Acting despite fear. Bravery isn't the absence of fear but the decision to prioritize compassion over fear, fitting in, or following the crowd. It's an action taken, not a feeling waited for, like standing up to a bully or choosing the last-picked kid for a team.

Learning from regret. The author shares her own regret about not acting on her compassion for a lonely classmate named Adam. This personal story reinforces the importance of listening to that inner signal and choosing bravery, highlighting that inaction can lead to lasting regret.

10. Family is a Commitment to Keep Showing Up.

What else is family if not a commitment to keep showing up?

The power of presence. Family, whether biological or chosen, is defined by a steadfast commitment to presence, especially during difficult times. The author's extended family's tradition of gathering for New Year's Eve, even after a death, exemplifies this unwavering commitment to showing up for each other.

Melting into one another. Becoming a family involves a process of "melting," where individuals blend into something new while retaining their unique qualities. This requires patience, acceptance of differences, and a willingness to endure challenges together, like Craig navigating the author's eccentric family or supporting her sister through divorce.

Support through crisis. The story of supporting her sister through her divorce highlights the vital role of family as an "In Case of Emergency" system. It shows that showing up, offering presence, and bearing witness to pain together, even when you can't fix it, is the most important thing you can do.

Last updated: May 31, 2025