“We don’t have roles. We have selves. We don’t have fixed identities. We have lives unfolding that deserve our full attention.”
I can’t even with how much I needed these words today. Thank you, for in honouring your full self and your body’s needs you gave me an open door to do the same.
It started almost exactly six years ago and since then, there’s hardly been a time when one or more of my teens hasn’t been struggling hard with their mental health. Sometimes on the brink of death. We’re in the thick of it again and I couldn’t thank you more for this. Love to you both from another member of the fellowship of the afflicted.
I thought of you yesterday and today as I wrote the last part of my last chapter and then came here to read posts from you and KJ to see how you’re doing. Reading this is hard (so much pain) but you bear such hopeful witness, which will not return void. Thank you. 🕯️
I appreciate this so much. After braving a dysfunctional church environment and other losses, I’ve felt spiritually out of sorts for a while now. So I resonate with your words, “What I’ve lived has fundamentally altered my internal structures, which includes spirituality. Parts of my faith, then, died of natural causes.” From my internal experience as well as companioning spiritual directees who are disoriented or deconstructing, I know tangibly how it isn’t a path of waywardness but of tending to real wounds…and considering everything in a new light after those wounds.
This is so powerful and real. I have been critically and now chronically ill. You and my husband carry the heavy and holy mantle of caregiver—which you are but also SO much more. Sometimes people tell him (and me) how strong we are. But it feels like weakness, a lot of oscillating faith and doubt, some tears, and white-knuckled survival. But there is also love—so so much love. Bless you and KJ.
Ryan. Wow. These are words from someone who is truly living life fully. Thank you for this.
And if we must feel the need to be strong… life if we really need to call it that, may we just believe that strength is exactly what you said: “To show up tender, present, and receptive in my own need for care.”
You made me cry. I love you, forever.
“We don’t have roles. We have selves. We don’t have fixed identities. We have lives unfolding that deserve our full attention.”
I can’t even with how much I needed these words today. Thank you, for in honouring your full self and your body’s needs you gave me an open door to do the same.
It started almost exactly six years ago and since then, there’s hardly been a time when one or more of my teens hasn’t been struggling hard with their mental health. Sometimes on the brink of death. We’re in the thick of it again and I couldn’t thank you more for this. Love to you both from another member of the fellowship of the afflicted.
I love you guys so much 🤍
I thought of you yesterday and today as I wrote the last part of my last chapter and then came here to read posts from you and KJ to see how you’re doing. Reading this is hard (so much pain) but you bear such hopeful witness, which will not return void. Thank you. 🕯️
Sending love to the Ramsey family.
Thank you Adriel ♥️ we send your family our love in return. Congrats on finishing your last chapter! Exciting!
I appreciate this so much. After braving a dysfunctional church environment and other losses, I’ve felt spiritually out of sorts for a while now. So I resonate with your words, “What I’ve lived has fundamentally altered my internal structures, which includes spirituality. Parts of my faith, then, died of natural causes.” From my internal experience as well as companioning spiritual directees who are disoriented or deconstructing, I know tangibly how it isn’t a path of waywardness but of tending to real wounds…and considering everything in a new light after those wounds.
This is so powerful and real. I have been critically and now chronically ill. You and my husband carry the heavy and holy mantle of caregiver—which you are but also SO much more. Sometimes people tell him (and me) how strong we are. But it feels like weakness, a lot of oscillating faith and doubt, some tears, and white-knuckled survival. But there is also love—so so much love. Bless you and KJ.
Ryan. Wow. These are words from someone who is truly living life fully. Thank you for this.
And if we must feel the need to be strong… life if we really need to call it that, may we just believe that strength is exactly what you said: “To show up tender, present, and receptive in my own need for care.”
This is really beautiful and so relatable. Thank you for putting words to the grief of unlearning and the way each of us is ourselves, not our roles.
Thankful for you and for your bearing witness to this grief.
Beautiful, Ryan. And 100% relatable.
Beautiful. Thank you for writing.