Author: Stephanie Henderson

  • I’ve been watching the changing of seasons closely this year. So much so that I think I noticed the

    I’ve been watching the changing of seasons closely this year. So much so that I think I noticed the very first day there was a red leaf on the tree in our backyard. Since that day, they have been increasing in number and decreasing in altitude as they fall to the ground below. The tree is still mostly green. If I hadn’t felt the crispness in the air, I might believe it was just a fluke. But the season is definitely changing, a fact that is supported by the looming autumnal equinox.

    This weekend officially rings in the beginning of my favorite time of year. When the air gets colder and the colors of fall show up in earnest, I feel like I come to life. By the time we shift to winter, I am ready for the freeze… for things to turn white… for the silence to reset things.
    Last year at this time, I was all the way around the world. I was on a different continent, experiencing a whole new reality, which was an amazing gift. When I got home, the change had occurred, and life had moved on. Being able to be present this year to watch the shift happen has also been a gift.
    Seasonal changes bring me so much hope these days. While there is part of them that brings to mind the marching on of life, there is also a growing part of me that is able to find rest in the steadiness of the change.
    I may not always know which leaf will turn first or where it will fall. It might be impossible to predict when the cold winds will empty the tree or when the first snow will come. But I can hold onto the fact that these changes are coming. As surely as my next breath, they will continue until they don’t. I don’t have to predict them, control them, or even always like them… but I can depend on them.
    And in the consistent changes, I can love forward steadily… without having to predict, control, or always like what that looks like. I can just love and rest in the reality that the change will come. The change from the heat of summer to the coolness of fall. The change from the youth of yesterday to the maturity of tomorrow. The change from the weight of conformity to the lightness of authenticity.
    Change is hope.
    To everything, there is a season, friends. Whatever this season holds for you… breathe in, breathe out… hold onto hope, and take note of the change.
    I love you!
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  • I didn’t want to write the paper. I don’t want to spend time proving that I have learned to parrot…

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    I don’t want to spend time proving that I have learned to parrot the harmful rhetoric that I am working so hard to undo in my own mind and to overcome in the path forward… and being graded on how well I can do it. The frustration caused by submitting to a problematic process which has repeatedly done damage in my life has brought up some significant anxiety this past week. It made me feel unsafe in current relationships that have proven to be relatively stable. And it brought up old tapes that have been effectively silenced for some time now.

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    It gets exhausting presenting chunks of myself to people who only want me to reflect themselves back to them. My writing means something to me and I hate intentionally setting it in front of people who could not possibly want to read anything less than what I have to say. 

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    Because I keep being told to quote more, or don’t quote at all. To meet a word count, but don’t go beyond it. That the word count is a minimum and I shouldn’t consider my work done unless I’ve clearly surpassed it. 

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    By Sunday morning, I didn’t even want to go to church in order to avoid the potential that I would see church people… which makes me sad because I am finally learning to consistently look beyond my own pain but this week it was blinding me. 

    This morning I’m headed back into the “real” world. I’ve been graded and found wanting by the church. I’m not what they want me to be. I still don’t fit in…

    And today, I’m working on being thankful for that. Because I do get honest feedback and can make changes from people who know me and care about my well-being. I am held accountable to growth and health beyond compliance. I can live into what I am called to do. 


    Community can be safe.

    I will be healthy. 

    Sometimes, it may be difficult to keep choosing that… but I can do this. 

    It’s the Mondayest Tuesday today. I’m starting out tired. Grief from many sides sits heavily. The weekend can’t get here soon enough. 

    I’m working on rest this week. I need to sleep. Choose something to do to take care of you today. You’re worth it. 

    I love you all! 

    💜💜💜

  • In a conversation with a friend earlier this week, they expressed the frustration about their lack…

    In a conversation with a friend earlier this week, they expressed the frustration about their lack of ability to know God in this season of their life. As we were talking, an image flashed through my mind of the differences in how I was taught to see God and how I have come to know him. This is the result of that flash. 

    “It is the journey of a lifetime. And it’s like you’re just coming to a place where you can push back the curtains to see the sun rising as the new day dawns. But it’s okay if you’re still resting for a bit before you get up to do that. In the stillness, God is there. In the silence, you can know him.
     
    He is big enough to be all there and strong enough to not need to prove it.
     
    What comes to mind is laying in a hotel room after sunrise. You know how dark it can be, except for the rays of light that break through the cracks? The church says look at the light and you’ll see God. Which isn’t exactly wrong, maybe, but it’s a controlled perspective of God. It’s a safe description of God. And I have learned that I see the beauty of God in the dust that dances on that beam of light. Dust that we are trained to clear away, to clean up, to not let accumulate. But we were made from dust. And we are beautiful. And the image of God can be found in the dusty, undesirable places as surely as it can be found in us even if we are deemed dusty and undesirable.
     
    You are shaking off the dust of years of life lived to survive. It’s okay to take a moment to hold the tension of frustration at the mess being created and the beauty of becoming. You might sneeze a little. Your eyes might water. But there is beauty that comes when dust is stirred up. There is health and progress.
     
    It’s just rarely as quick a process as we would like.”
     
    It struck me as significant for so many of the people that I know of who are pursuing health beyond the systems and structures that taught them to limit God. It may not have been intentional teaching, but the result was the same and teaching ourself a different way is a difficult undertaking.
     
    Healing doesn’t just happen. It is hard, and heavy, and will likely mess us up a bit on the way to becoming… but God is in the mess, and we can find beauty in the process of becoming if we move beyond what we have always been told beauty looked like.
     
    A follow up conversation with that friend tonight led me to make the following statement. They had just expressed a deep sadness at the lost years from before they were able to begin living. In their words, “So much wasted. Space, time, opportunity… But – God knows.”
     
    I couldn’t just leave it there. Not because I disagree, but because the resignation behind statements like that often allows us to settle for less. It’s a place where we can come to see the dust, but instead of being able to revel in the beauty of the dance as it moves across the light, we deem the light useful and get to work clearing the air.
     
    “It would be really easy to settle into regret, and there is definitely a time and place for the grieving. Just don’t forget that you are living, breathing proof that the story is far from over. God does know… but he gives you more than just glimpses of his plan for you all the time.
     
    Space, time, and opportunity are as infinite as the possibilities they contain. They are as infinite as the possibilities YOU contain. And even if that feels like a portion of what could have been… it’s still an immeasurable, incalculable, and invincible amount.”
     
    And that, my friend, is the simple truth. You have so much life left. There is so much hope in the healing. And whether you travel the globe or not, whether you are a guru or not, whether you are wealthy or not, whether you are ever anything other than you are right this moment without looking around… you are a person of immeasurable, incalculable, invincible preciousness… and the God who created you delights in you just because you are you.

  • Here’s a glimpse of my week. It started out feeling as fragile as the bubbles that floated into the

    Here’s a glimpse of my week. It started out feeling as fragile as the bubbles that floated into the sky on
    the first morning of school. But the more I leaned into the work of continuing my healing journey (in therapy at the building that doesn’t terrify me anymore), lived out the calling to preach the gospel wherever possible (sometimes with words, like in the classroom where this print hung), and shared the process that’s empowered me to find the balance between leaning in and living out… the more I sink into bed exhausted and yet full of hope for what is coming.

    Today was similar. Hard conversations. Heavy things to do. Holding lightly the people I come in contact with who are sensitive to engagement. Life has been said to be a balancing act, but I contend that if it’s an act, it’s not in balance.
    Show up for yourself. Find your footing. Stand in your centered place. Only from there can you actually offer hope. It may be messy, but it’s so worth it.
    I love you, friends.
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    placeholder-image Here’s a glimpse of my week. It started out feeling as fragile as the bubbles that floated into the

  • Seven years ago today, I had worked through the night to get as much office work done as possible…

    Seven years ago today, I had worked through the night to get as much office work done as possible before Ean made his entrance, and I took this picture of my computer monitor sometime in the middle of the night. Labor was keeping me awake anyway, so I decided to be productive.


    Sean had put this sticker on my computer sometime in the months before we got to this point, and it stood out to me that night. Pregnancy hormones were a beast, and the reminder was an important one many times over.

    This week, it was timely to see it pop up again.

    I don’t have that computer anymore, we don’t live in that state anymore, I don’t go to that hospital anymore, the baby that I was terrified wouldn’t survive that night turned 7 today.

    In the midst of all the chaos, I hold onto the truth that it will be okay… and today, I am thankful to live in the reality that it is also already okay even when it isn’t.

    Happy Wednesday, friends. Hold onto hope.
    I love you!


    placeholder-image Seven years ago today, I had worked through the night to get as much office work done as possible...


  • I was at Shawnee Nazarene Academy yesterday morning to do a professional development presentation…

    I was at Shawnee Nazarene Academy yesterday morning to do a professional development presentation for the teachers on emotional regulation. It was tough to prepare for in this period of chaos, and my anxiety wouldn’t let me do anything more than handwritten notes. Added to that, the fact that going into church spaces makes my blood run cold right now made the morning rough.

    I was panicky on the way and couldn’t stop crying. By the time I got there, I had calmed down enough to go in, but I was unsure how it would go.
    Flashback to last fall. We had just started at SNA before my trip to Africa. Stepping into the quiet of the sanctuary at Shawnee Church of the Nazarene, God met me in that space.
    I wrote a post about it at the time and shared pictures at https://www.threepurplehearts.com/…/i-stepped-into… This morning, I was seeking to steady myself before I joined the group, so I went back into that sanctuary.
    I’ve been in and out and through there since then for programs and quizzes and school things… But there’s something different when it’s just me. When the lights are off, and the sun is shining through the windows, it reminds me who I am… and whose I am.
    And I think I had forgotten about the how important those things were to remember until I went in there again yesterday morning. But as I knelt to pray, I noticed it again… and it was like coming home.
    The presentation went super well. The teachers were engaged far more than I had even dared to hope they would be. The principal was affirming of the direction and the information. And we had a small crowd of people talking about how to raise emotionally healthy kids into the leaders we believe they can be someday.
    Some days I feel like a caterpillar that is still fighting to get into the cocoon… but yesterday, that purple butterfly reminded me that, in so many ways, I’m already flying.
    Whatever stage of change you’re in, keep going. It’s worth it to do the hard things now for tomorrow to be better. And you’re worth the effort!
    I love you all!
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    placeholder-image I was at Shawnee Nazarene Academy yesterday morning to do a professional development presentation...


  • Last week was one of the strangest I’ve experienced in a long time… maybe ever, if I’m honest….

    Last week was one of the strangest I’ve experienced in a long time… maybe ever, if I’m honest. Conversations and meetings and all kinds of things changing but in ways that indicate a unifying of purpose and clarifying of direction.

    It’s been really amazing to live into health and get to see some of what that looks like in all the different roles. As a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a pastor, an employee, and a colleague… in all the ways that I bump into the world, I am able to show up as myself.
    Today, though, anxiety hit. I don’t know why. I was in the middle of training for one new job when I got the paperwork to complete for the acceptance of another. And the overwhelming fear that I would let both organizations down landed like a lead weight in the center of my chest.
    Holding onto reality and knowing that I know what I know is easier some days than others. That’s just the truth. Living from that truth is easier some days than others, but it is still true.
    I’m so thankful to be able to share that in addition to joining the team at Heartland 180 in KCK (www.heartland180.org) at the beginning of July, I have also accepted a position as Affiliate Development and Volunteer Coordinator for the National Alliance on Mental Illness in the KCK Affiliate (https://namikansas.org/nami-kansas-city-kansas/). NAMI is a fantastic organization whose commitment to advocacy, support, and the growth of those living with the impact of mental illness is something I can deeply identify with.
    In addition to this change, there have been numerous other areas where doors are opening to engage in healthy practices and share the impact of finding balance with people. As the community of people willing to put forth the effort to find this same balance in their own lives continues to grow, I am encouraged… and terrified.
    Both are true.
    Thanks for being here, friends… for sharing things that keep me afloat, believing in me, and doing hard things in your own lives.
    I love you all.
    1f49c Last week was one of the strangest I’ve experienced in a long time… maybe ever, if I’m honest....1f49c Last week was one of the strangest I’ve experienced in a long time… maybe ever, if I’m honest....1f49c Last week was one of the strangest I’ve experienced in a long time… maybe ever, if I’m honest....

  • I woke up with a start today. Nothing specific happened; no sound or flash caused it. It was just…

    I woke up with a start today. Nothing specific happened; no sound or flash caused it. It was just the weight of the week suddenly landing, I think… and a deluge of tears came with it.

    This morning, my family has no church home to head to. We are still working out where we will land after the sudden loss at the end of May. Since that time, we have traveled and visited, we have found community beyond the walls of the traditional church, and gone back to our COVID experience to fill this educational time of the week. It is not perfect or sustainable, but it is this season for us.
    For the moment, I’m just laying here in the silence of my nearly (finally) settled and cleaned house, weeping over the loss of a church that never wanted me anyway. I grieve for all who have been unwanted before me… and in a very deep way, I grieve for those who are still looking away.
    The abused will never belong unless the church chooses to actively stand against the abusers and make it safe for them to do so. That’s what I want in a church. And that’s what the church of the Nazarene has declared time and again to be of too great a liability. This reality communicates to a hurting crowd of people that the cost of caring for them is too great… that they aren’t worth it.
    It is all well and good to say that you “believe that this circumstance can be redeemed,” but that belief falls flat without sacrificial action living into it. Simply stating that you “see this as an opportunity to emphasize the call of the church to be a safe harbor for children and youth” does nothing to hold accountable the abusers of all kinds who are arriving today to the place where they have unfettered access to vulnerable people because of the lack of accountability and structures to prevent it. Those systems (or the lack thereof) that allow people to be harmed have been replicated worldwide, and the victims are increasingly unwilling to remain silent… even if the church largely does.
    As long as the church is content to settle into the safety of closing statements that offer themselves comfort without allowing for or requiring healing work to be done, it cannot be the Church God calls.
    My family will likely worship online somewhere this morning. We are continuing to clean house, both the house built around us and the emotional house that provides a haven around our hearts. This is all that is safe enough to do today, and I believe God is present in our desire to gather… and with us in our inability to do so.
    I pray that if you gather, it is in safety this morning; that you have a Church home that allows your family to worship with the body of Christ in a way that is holy and healing. I pray that if you have suffered at the hands of a church that has been silent for too long, that God shows up for you today… because that is not his Church.
    Do not let the shadow of shame darken your heart. There is hope… not the fluffy wish that things will be better, but the weighty expectation that change is coming. Grieve what is necessary, and breathe in the freedom of new life.
    You aren’t alone.
    If you need to talk, I’m always here.
    I love you.
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  • I’m so thankful to have had a day full of beautiful connections and the gift of seeing God work in…

    I’m so thankful to have had a day full of beautiful connections and the gift of seeing God work in places I was always led to believe he couldn’t possibly… since they weren’t “Christian.” If not for the hope that healing brings, despair would set in.

    Pay attention, friends. Darkness sometimes hides behind blinding, artificial lights, and the trust we place in people we can’t see clearly puts many at risk.
    Even if the “circumstance can be redeemed,” 1f92e I'm so thankful to have had a day full of beautiful connections and the gift of seeing God work in...1f92e I'm so thankful to have had a day full of beautiful connections and the gift of seeing God work in...1f92e I'm so thankful to have had a day full of beautiful connections and the gift of seeing God work in... real people are harmed… and it’s happening too much for either the harm or the tepid responses to be excusable.
    I’m not sharing links because I’ve run across them enough today for a lifetime, and I don’t want to trigger others. But news stories and court documents are available if you’re interested.
    Pray for the people of Susanville, CA, and the children and adults worldwide who are dealing with the impacts of this man’s choices.

  • Driving home this morning after denominational meetings this last week. Well… Sean is because he’s…

    Driving home this morning after denominational meetings this last week. Well… Sean is because he’s amazing.

    It was such a different week than I expected it to be. From start to finish, there were surprises at every turn. And though I primarily expected them to be bad surprises… they were a solid mix, leaning heavily toward good.
    I find myself cautiously optimistic today. It’s not that anything specific went remarkably better than expected, but so many people leaned into such hard things that I can see hope for a time when we might move into discomfort as a community of healing rather than run from it.
    And I am beyond thankful that the ending to the week was a significantly encouraging conversation with someone that I didn’t even know was really watching… and then a sibling in Christ refusing to shame me for my tears, instead taking from them courage to be more vulnerable themself.
    I don’t always get it right. If I’m honest, I feel like I fail more than I succeed in the church. But I’m learning that how I define success and failure is very much tied to messages and scripts that have been handed down from generations of shamed ones who didn’t know how to pass on anything else.
    I don’t have to accept it. I can learn what I need to from it. I can pass on holy love from here.
    Farewell from Indianapolis.
    Go expecting. Go in hope. Go in discomfort.
    Go change your world.
    I love you all.
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