Most people know I’m a therapist, but you may not know that I’m also a diehard Liverpool Football Club fan (that’s English soccer).
Over the weekend, Liverpool announced they were firing their head coach after only two years.
Over the weekend, my (Amy) uncle passed away.
He loved to have fun, yet he was also intense. He loved his children deeply, but I also know his words and temper hurt them deeply too.
Sitting with my cousin as her father passed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how complicated love can become when emotional wounds go unhealed.
Our daughter turned 21 last week. As I reflected on that milestone, I couldn’t help but think about how much she has changed over the last ten years—and how much I have, too.
The journey from preteen to young adulthood has been quite a rollercoaster.
As a nurse, I (Amy) was first trained to recognize what normal heart rhythms look like so I could identify a dangerous arrhythmia. Because before you can recognize when something is off, you need to know what healthy looks like.
In a similar way, we can learn to recognize our relational rhythms.
Let’s talk about something that often gets overlooked in relationships—but shapes how connected you feel to another person: Having fun together.
When most couples think about improving their relationship, they focus on communication, conflict, or emotional needs. And those things matter.
But here’s what often gets missed—many couples have conflict problems because they also have a fun deficit.
There’s a powerful difference between change and growth—and once you understand it, it can transform the way you approach your life and your relationships.
Now, both involve something becoming different—but not all change is growth.
In the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 18, Peter the Apostle asks Jesus a very human question: “How many times should I forgive?”
It’s the kind of question we all wrestle with a version of—because forgiveness isn’t easy.
Jesus responded the way he often did—by telling a story.
There is a unique kind of ache that comes with watching an adult son or daughter make choices we wouldn’t choose for them.
By the time our children reach adulthood, we’ve spent years guiding, protecting, teaching, and loving them.
There’s a church near where we live that has local artists depict the story of Jesus’ crucifixion using the stations of the cross. As I walked through in silent reflection last week, one piece along with the corresponding scripture stuck out to me about what Jesus didn’t do.
People often struggle with two core relational fears: being loved but not truly known or being known but not truly loved.