When you've experienced rejection in your life, a serious rejection of all that you are, you see everything through the lens of being unwanted and unworthy. Worthless, as a matter of fact, and disposable. You very easily operate from the assumption that who you are is never enough, and you believe with every fiber of your being that even your presence in a room is tolerated but never wanted. Every interaction is guarded, and you wait for the inevitable moment when you will be pushed aside, cast away like the rubbish you are. Small slights from others reinforce your beliefs about your value, and self-preservation begs you to build walls to protect yourself from further destruction. You isolate yourself because you know you are an outsider, a person whose purpose is to be seen but not heard. Noticed but not acknowledged. Tolerated but never loved. The rejection becomes something not just done to you, but your very identity. You weren't rejected - you are rejected. It's never a past-tense action; it's ongoing and assumed in the future. It's the air that surrounds you, the enveloping presence with you forever. Living as one rejected is excruciating, and without intentionality, it becomes your default and...

  Recently I had one of those days where I just looked around and asked, "What am I doing here?" I was frustrated with every little thing I did, and I felt like I was just spinning my wheels. Nothing was working the way I wanted or planned for it to, and if banging my head against a wall would have helped, I would have been all over that. I felt really unproductive and totally useless, and if there's anything I can't handle, it's feeling like a waste of humanity. Please tell me you have these days, too. I know my calling in life, and I understand my greater purpose. I know why and for Whom I was created, but my problem is losing sight of the forest for the trees. I see the big picture, but the details trip me up, and I stall out sometimes when I get lost in the day-to-day that's supposed to lead to the ultimate. I second-guess myself and feel hesitant, and when I do, I beat myself up. It becomes a ridiculous cycle of work, create, destroy. Know, do, question. Believe, waver, stop. It's maddening, and I begin to apologize for even taking up space in the world....

  I drove by her house and burst into tears. I'm not sure why. I've been by there many times since our friendship fizzled out and have been just fine, but on this day, I felt particularly vulnerable. I felt alone and lonely, and seeing her house reminded me of what was lost. I just wanted it back.   I wanted the phone calls for no reason where we chatted about nothing. I wanted the shared meals and shared times where we simply enjoyed each other's company. I wanted the friendship. I just wanted it back. But the reality is that it's gone. That particular friendship didn't make it to this particular season of life, and there's nothing I can do to change it. Isn't that the worst? Seeing what is gone and missing it like mad, but being helpless to bring it back? It's the worst. But it's not the end. You see, our enemy wants us to see all endings as the end. He wants us to believe that the death of one thing is the death of all things, and he wants us to believe that when one thing is lost, all is lost. And I know it's tempting to believe him. I've had my fair share of days when I've...

  When I was growing up, one of the worst insults that could be hurled at a child (or his parents) was that he was a spoiled brat. It was a phrase that wasn't used very often, but when it was, it stung. No one wanted to hear the perception that a child was spoiled. Now, we hardly hear the phrase, but maybe it's because so many children are spoiled. Has the phrase decreased as the problem increased? Out of curiosity, I looked up the meaning of "spoil." Here, it means "to harm the character of a child by being too lenient or indulgent." That's convicting. It's hard to parent, and it's particularly hard to parent when we have long-term goals but face pressing, short-term issues. When a child is squalling because he wants a piece of candy, it's so much easier to give him the candy to keep the peace. When he is complaining because all of his friends have the latest, expensive whatever-it-is, it's so much easier to give in to make him happy with you. When the house is dirty, it's just easier to clean it yourself than to teach him and then insist that he do his part. It's easier to spoil the child, and maybe that's why we're doing...

  I've been to some pretty crazy Clemson football games in my day. For 36 years, more if you count the time I spent in utero, I've been going to Death Valley and watching the Tigers compete against all number of opponents. I've seen wins and losses, and I've seen coaches come and go. I've tailgated early and tailgated late, and I've eaten way more than my fair share of junk food. Clemson football is a way of life in my family, and yes, I love and understand the sport. I've seen some pretty crazy games and taken part in some pretty crazy days. Like, for example, this one. Clemson versus Notre Dame, October 2015. Pouring rain, thanks to the remnants of Hurrican Joaquin. Notre Dame scored with seconds left in the 4th quarter to come within two points. They went for the 2 point conversion and were denied. A goal-line stand meant another Clemson win! Instant classic and a game I'll always remember because this is how we looked. Then there's this one. Clemson versus Alabama for the National Championship, January 2016. 4th quarter, tied at 24. Alabama turned a gutsy on-side kick into a touchdown and went up 31-24. Clemson answered with a field goal, 31-27. Alabama scored again,...

  When the world seems to be falling apart, what are we supposed to do? When the news is filled with murders and protests, what do we tell our children? When our nine-year-old asks, "Mommy, what happened in Charlotte?", what are we supposed to say? I don't know. I have way more questions than I have answers, and my silence on it all has been a sign of my hesitance. I haven't known what to say or how to say it, so I've stayed silent. But silence does nothing to make anything better. And I don't want my silence to be complicity. Regardless of your thoughts on police shootings and the guilt or innocence of those gunned down, you cannot deny that our country is facing enormous race issues. You can have a million opinions on why this is so, and you can pronounce a side that is right and a side that is wrong, but first you must be willing to admit that a huge problem exists. It is real, and it matters, and pretending it away or just hoping it will get better is never going to work. People are killing and people are dying, and race is part of the problem. People are hurting and...

  Sometimes, we forget what we wish we could remember. And sometimes we remember what we wish we could forget. Have you ever tossed restlessly at night, replaying events and words that just won't go away? How often I've prayed, "Lord, remove this from my thoughts. Take this out of my mind." Over and over on an endless loop, I see mistakes I've made and hear words I can't take back, and my memory becomes a weapon destroying my peace. Sometimes, it's not the memories themselves that are the problem. It's the lies we tell ourselves about the memories. We tell ourselves we're defined by what happened, and we believe the untruth that the words we said will never be forgiven. We live held hostage by the things that once were, and we refuse the grace that offers to redeem them. We remember what we need to forget, and we forget what we need to remember. We need to remember there's nothing too wrong to be made right again. There's nothing unforgivable and nothing unredeemable. There's nowhere too far gone, and there's no one too out of reach. We need to remember what Satan wants us to forget, and we need to forget what Satan wants us...