By: Jennie Scott
I couldn’t find my way out. Eight years ago, after my marriage fell apart and my labels became “divorced” and “single mum,” my world lost its colour. All around me, I saw only black and white. Mostly black. Mostly darkness.
By: Jennie Scott
I couldn’t find my way out. Eight years ago, after my marriage fell apart and my labels became “divorced” and “single mum,” my world lost its colour. All around me, I saw only black and white. Mostly black. Mostly darkness.
By: Jennie Scott
As I write this, I’m sitting in a coffee shop, alone. Of course, there are other people in the building, so I guess I’m not technically alone, but I came here without anyone else, on purpose.
By: Jennie Scott
It’s such a pain, meal-prepping every Sunday evening. I take out the spaghetti squash and the extra-lean ground turkey, and I put together my lunches for the week. I’m one of those who eats the same thing every single day, just for the sake of simplicity. The less I have to think, the better.
By: Jennie Scott
There’s a point in every conversation where the other person breaks eye contact, glancing away to look at, well, who knows what. Maybe it’s another person, maybe a painting on the wall, or maybe it’s just to see anything other than my face.
By: Jennie Scott
A little while ago, I decided to take a leave of absence from social media. You can read all about it here, but the main reason is that I just needed some white space in my life, and social media was filling my mind with unnecessary noise.
By: Jennie Scott
Do you ever wish life could be reduced and simplified, just like our teachers taught us to do with fractions? Take the numbers you see and reduce them until they can’t be reduced any more — 50/100 becomes 1/2, the large and complex becoming small and simple.
By: Jennie Scott
Each morning, the screens in my life shout and show turmoil. World leaders making threats and calling each other names.
By: Jennie Scott
Her soft voice came through the speaker on my phone, telling the podcast interviewer about the hardest years of her life. This woman has moved overseas, adopted orphaned children, begun a non-profit ministry, and written bestselling books about faith. If anyone shouldn’t admit having certain questions about her faith and her God, it seemed she shouldn’t.
By: Jennie Scott
I wish I could remember where I first heard it, this truth that’s been rocking my world.
I don’t know if it was on a podcast or in a book, on my TV or from my friend’s mouth. All I know is that I somehow jotted it down as a note in my phone, and I’ve been looking at it ever since.
By: Jennie Scott
Scalding water beat on my back as I rested my forehead on the shower wall. The tears falling down my cheeks mixed with the water from the shower, and one was as hot as the other.