yesdarlingido
The words you say carry more weight than you know, and to some, they may weigh more than they can handle. Be kind, speak with purpose and clarity, always with the intent to help those around you grow. If you do say words that are hurtful, be quick to use words that heal, and in doing this you will find that you are being more and more like Christ; speaking truth in love.
T.B. LaBerge // Go Now (via tblaberge)

I think all in all I had a pretty bad good day. I know I shouldn’t expect people to change; that homelessness is more than just the fact of not having a place to lay your head but rather your demons following inside of you every time you try to get a rest. I’m just disappointed that I put stock into something assuming it would change them, a person I knew nothing about. my mom says my heart is too big (lol @ me last night) and I don’t think that’s true. it’s too small to except change with being hurt. furthermore, I shouldn’t be so down because you know what? it was a good day. I mean, I served at church + brought anthony and josh to second service, I cuddled with my sister, took a nap in her bed, saw my father, am going to have dinner at Applebee’s. Oh well.

moonless night blogging

it amazes me that humans have such a large capacity to love. it’s like my heart is only the size of a closed fist but the feelings I have for you are large enough to fit in my father’s old horse farm. and I don’t take that lightly, especially since it’s so hard for me to feel love under how much numbness is inside of me. I don’t know, maybe it’s just the crispness of winter coming in the air or the sleepiness in my bones but I miss you and I hate you and I love you and I’m tired.

planstobesurprised
humansofnewyork:

“I think one of the neighbors had beef with my mother. Because one day when my mom went to the store, and left us alone for just a few minutes, child services came and took us away. My sister and I got split up. I got sent to a group home. It was like a prison— everybody there was looking out for themselves. I’d call my mother and cry on the phone but she’d just say she was sorry, and there was nothing she could do, and she was trying. After a few months, my sister and I got moved into a foster home. Our foster mother was this old lady named Ms. Elizabeth. She let our mother come visit us even though she wasn’t supposed to. And she took us to church and prayed with us, and every Sunday she’d cook us a huge dinner and completely deck out the table like it was Thanksgiving. It was like some movie shit. We’d never had anything like that before. Even when we moved back with our mother, we would alway visit Ms. Elizabeth up until the time she passed away.”

humansofnewyork:

“I think one of the neighbors had beef with my mother. Because one day when my mom went to the store, and left us alone for just a few minutes, child services came and took us away. My sister and I got split up. I got sent to a group home. It was like a prison— everybody there was looking out for themselves. I’d call my mother and cry on the phone but she’d just say she was sorry, and there was nothing she could do, and she was trying. After a few months, my sister and I got moved into a foster home. Our foster mother was this old lady named Ms. Elizabeth. She let our mother come visit us even though she wasn’t supposed to. And she took us to church and prayed with us, and every Sunday she’d cook us a huge dinner and completely deck out the table like it was Thanksgiving. It was like some movie shit. We’d never had anything like that before. Even when we moved back with our mother, we would alway visit Ms. Elizabeth up until the time she passed away.”