I’m glad you’re here!

Hi, I’m Carey -- a speaker, author, and life coach honest about my life and faith, stumbles, fumbles, and all.

My ministry focuses on helping women untangle their self-worth from the world and secure it in Jesus. And when we do, we’re free to live authentic lives… not perfect ones.

Trust: a 5-letter word that can feel more like a 4-letter word

My thoughtsI’ve been sidelined.

At least that’s what it feels like.

2014 has been quite different than I thought it would be… a huge shift from how the past several years have looked.

I’m used to lacing up my sneakers and walking into new territory. I like forward motion, and am a trailblazer at heart. Point to the dustiest path, and I’ll walk it—I may even break into a jog. Every new challenge is a foe I must hunt down and conquer. And without a doubt, I don’t do well being idle.

But it feels like I am.

For ten years, God has opened countless doors in ministry… and I’ve faithfully walked through them. I’ve been humbled by how He has used me, and grateful for every opportunity to share all He has done in my life.

And there has been a lot to share.

Trust me.

But this year has had a different landscape.

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Prickly People

prickly“She shouldn’t be wearing that swimsuit. Are you kidding me?”

“Can you believe all the tattoos on her back? That’s just gross.”

“She’s so thin, but I bet she is a royal b**** (insert expletive).”

“What in the world does her boyfriend see in her? He is so out of her league!”

It was disturbing. These two high school girls giggled and snickered as others walked past them. A few looked their way as if they heard the rude comments, but most didn’t even realize the harsh words spoken over them.

And because they were in ear shot of me as I sat watching my kids in the wave pool, I had a front row seat in their courtroom.

Even more frustrating was that they were sitting with mom who willingly participated in their judgments, and often spoke up first.

~ She laughed with them.

~ Pointed fingers with them.

~ Rolled eyes with them.

~ Shook head in disgust with them.

Didn’t she know better? I wondered if she was more interested in being their friend instead of being their mom? Did it make her feel cool to be included in their conversation? Maybe she was desperate for a connecting point with her daughter, and saw an open door?

I know, I know… sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the trash talk. But we miss a huge teachable moment when we don’t see the bigger picture.

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Whatever, God.

If we knew“Whatever, God. You asked us to do this, and now You’re not showing up.”

I’ve muttered these words more than a few times over the past 85 days. Every time we have a showing of our home, my hope rises wondering if this is the buyer.

But the response from the 34 families that have toured our home to see if it will be their next one has been – “Nice home, but will not be making an offer.”

Ugh. Whatever.

My husband and I both believe God has called us to move. But after so many let-downs, I can’t help but wonder if we really heard Him right.

Have you ever wondered the same thing in your circumstance?

Truth is, full knowledge can be much easier to navigate than blind faith.

It would be easier to trust Him if I knew for sure that our home would sell for the price we wanted in the timeframe we needed. Amen?

Don’t we all crave those kinds of divine assurances?

If we knew the end of the journey before we even started down the crooked path, trusting God would be a piece of cake.

… Oooo, cake.

But it doesn’t work that way.

It usually works this way instead…

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The illusion of perfection

Sometimes we try to be perfect to silence the not good enough messages we believe.

worthlessness, insecurity, perfectionismI tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve and this time was no different. While sitting at a dinner party, my husband revealed something about me that I had hoped would stay hidden.

It made me so angry… and everyone knew it.

The women in this group are amazing bakers and cooks. Brilliant. They enjoy the experience of crafting amazing meals. But, I do not.

As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure that gene is completely missing from my DNA.

So when they asked me to bring a dessert, I began to stress.

After lamenting over what to do, I purchased a box mix and made a cake. No way would I risk baking from scratch, and a bakery-bought dessert would be easily detected. My hope was that conversation would be so thick that no one would think to comment on the cake.

But then she asked the question…

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