I throw myself a pity party.
I cry.
I stomp around.
Just stomping and bashing around in my heart but stomping nonetheless.
Then I clean something, or organize something
or create a budget or take a shower
or have or nap or eat some chocolate
or pray
or any combination of the above.
Usually, God speaks quietly into my heart.
A mere whisper.
Or a shout.
It depends on what I need in that moment.
There is a pause.
I take a deep breath.
And I carry on.
Pity parties always pass.


  1. You are regularly a roaring bonfire of passion, creativity, action, and love. There's a price for that! From one moody girl to another - honor your lows, they never last long.
    ps. You're totally allowed to throw that back at me at my next pity party.


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