Deborah Edgar

I’ve been carrying something heavy lately. Not a crisis, not a single dramatic event - just a deep, persistent flatness. A kind of quiet exhaustion that no amount of busyness will fix. And I’ve been trying to figure out what it means. The truth is, I’ve been living with significant physical pain while simultaneously navigating several serious health challenges. Nothing terminal, but the kind that occupies your mind and body completely. The kind that most people around you can

Just when I least expected it, God did something beautiful. What started as a simple, almost hesitant question - “Would anyone be interested in exploring the Bible together?” - has become one of the most unexpected blessings of my life. There was no grand plan. No sense of readiness. Certainly no vision of leading anything. And yet… here we are. Week after week (12 to be exact), a small group of women has gathered - showing up not because we have it all figured out, but beca

There is a particular kind of loneliness that can show up in grief - not because you are alone, but because you are surrounded by people who have not yet met it. Last night, I sat at a dinner table for six with strangers, ironically all of us attending the same spiritual conference. Two married couples and me. Kind faces. Easy conversation. Shared intention. And beside me, an empty chair - literally and figuratively, in all the ways that matter. The space where Jon would have

Today marks another trip around the sun. Sixty-nine of them, apparently. One short of 70. Which feels impossible, because in many ways I still feel like the girl squinting toward the horizon asking, “What’s that?” When I look back, the landscape of my life is anything but simple. There were childhood years shaped by fear and confusion, living under the shadow of a narcissistic mother and abusive stepfather whose cruelty left marks that took decades to understand and even long

More snow is predicted for Sunday. Seriously? It’s Friday. And the headlines read like a weather roulette wheel: Maybe a flake. Maybe more. Rain, turning to snow. How much? Nobody knows. It could be one flake or an avalanche. Anybody's guess. Literally. It would be funny if it didn’t feel like everything else. Because it’s not just the weather. It's grandmothers stolen from their beds in the middle of the night. An arrest overseas while we politely ignore corruption at home.

I didn’t always understand what self-love really meant. For most of my life, I thought love was something you earned - through productivity, through proving, through showing up for everyone else first. I thought love was something that came from the outside in . From relationships. From validation. From being chosen. After all, that's what I was taught as a child being raised by a narcissistic mother. I believed I had to earn love. It wasn't until Jon and I met that either of