“Fall harder. Rise up better.”

Image courtesy of designbolts.com

Image courtesy of designbolts.com

My husband and I recently moved.

We left the Lake (where we’d been showered with peace, perfect sunsets, and night skies so bejeweled I swore I could reach up and pluck the stars from the velvet welkin) and returned…

to. the. suburbs.

I was much more accepting of the move than my more-often-than-not better half.  In my head and heart, it was a need more than a want (a necessary evil, if I’m being soul-scrapingly honest).

Sure, we’d had great experiences there, but then it was inhabited by people without character…

without heart.

And I feared that their toxicity had somehow crept into the nooks of our home and seeped into its structure, just lying in wait to emotionally slime us, to beat us down and to challenge our gratefulness and belief in blessings.

Another thing left behind (other than my father and his fiancee, who certainly trump sunsets and stars) was our church.  While we weren’t nearly as involved as we’d have liked, we felt supported, loved and safely held in the arms of the congregation, especially by our Pastor, Bob.

With the hope of finding another congregation to call home, we began our Church Hop yesterday.  We attended service at an old church with a new name.  The people were different.  The music was different.  The feeling was different.

Nearly everything was different.

My husband leaned over less than halfway through and whispered, “Do you like it?”

I stared straight ahead and shook my head…


No, I didn’t

Shortly after, the lights were dimmed and a video was played.

It was about dreams.  How we live for them.  Then abandon them (before they can abandon us, perhaps).

And a string of words appeared on the screen…just before the tears appeared in my eyes:


Fall harder.  Rise up better.


I don’t know about you, but I have always been terrified of failure…

Failure as a wife, daughter, sister and friend.  Failure as a writer.  Failure as a want-to-be mother.  Failure as a student of books and, more importantly, life.  Failure as me (insignificant and yet very significant (to a select few) me).

FEAR is a powerful word; it is also a powerful emotion.  Powerful enough to emotionally and physically immobilize us (if allowed).

Truth be told, I’ve made countless decisions out of fear.  The fear of falling hard and rising…





No.  More.


The time is now for living and loving hard.  Falling harder.  And rising up better.

For not allowing fear to numb us, but to stimulate us.

For not allowing failure to define us, but to refine us.

For not allowing rising up to frighten us, but to empower us.


We still may get emotionally slimed (odds are good we will).

But I’ll be ready.

And will rise up better.


My hope is this:

that you will too.

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