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Me, Myself & I

He invited her to walk up to Him and as she did He knelt down. She was around 7 or 8 years old. Her brown straight hair hanging unkept around her face. Her bare feet dirty and her clothing worn. I vaguely recognized her. In His arms He cradled a small baby. She looked down at the baby and grinned up at Him. A knowingness passing between them.

I was watching all this unfold before me as if they couldn’t see me except when they looked at each other I felt myself step back. They both turned toward me and He beckoned me forward.

Tentatively, not sure but also scared of what was happening I walked toward Him. He stood up and invited me to look at the baby. As I got close enough to see features I saw myself.

I was the baby.

And I was the child.

“Can you look at her?”

I didn’t want to. She was so innocent. She had no idea the life that was before her. She was perfect and blameless.

The weight was to much. I shook my head.

He knelt down again and held her out to the child who eagerly opened her arms.

I watched the child me hold the baby me. She was still grinning.

I felt the weight of their lives. Someone should tell them, warn them, protect them! Someone needed to do something!! The only someone was me but I couldn’t speak.

He saw me wanting to make everything okay and He shook His head slightly. No.

I could do nothing but stand there and watch.



“I like myself” I wrote. “I look at the person I was 2 years ago and have nothing but compassion for her”.

It was months after the first encounter. The little girl still held the baby. He was still watching them and watching me watch them. She still had a grin on her face as she walked over to me.

I found myself kneeling down and folding back the blanket to see more of the baby.

She was really cute. And happy. I couldn’t help but smile back.

The little girl asked ‘Ready?’

I laughed a little. Yes, I was ready. Whatever had happened in the months between the first offer and this second had changed me.

Gently I took me. Still stooped down so I could be with both the baby and the child.

The weight had disappeared and in its place calm and tenderness.

“She’s so pretty” I told her.

“Yeah we are” replied the little girl. “Why didn’t you hold her before?”

The question caught me a little off guard and I let myself fall the rest of the way to the floor still holding the baby. I wondered how to explain it to an 8 year old.

“I didn’t like us” I started. “I knew the life that you have to live and it makes me sad. I want to help you and I can’t. I can just be here and tell you it’s going to be okay.”

She looked at me and I wondered if any of it made sense to her. Did she even know that I was her?

“But you’ll be with me right? You won’t leave?”

I was startled.

“Of course I won’t leave you. Would you leave this baby alone?”

A look of horror crossed her face. A look I felt and put scenes from my childhood to. She really was me in every way.

She didn’t answer and I knew that we both understood. She would never leave the baby and I would never leave her.



Saturday morning I planned to eat breakfast and have coffee and read my book in a coffee shop.
It was closed.
The little voice in me said ‘and the rest of the day won’t be what you planned either. Let it be.’
And Saturday wasn’t want I planned.
Sunday the little voice shoved me out the door for dinner with friends and said ‘let it…’
I’m in awe of ‘letting’.
Things happen and are created that are more then I could imagine. I take no credit for anything. I did nothing. Just let things take their course and stayed in the confusion or pain or joy or craziness. Just letting things naturally take course.


Flowing full and free
Careless and passionately
feels like an illusion
laughing in our faces –
we can see but not have.
Feeling stifled and alone
burdened and overwhelmed.
Feeling like an invisible promise has been broken
Not sure who promised us. Were we promised?
Or are my dreams and untouchable goals products of my fantasy?
Can I just blame it on this culture?
On my church? or lack of church? My parents?
Is there freedom in this life?
Is it a visionless dream?
Or is it a little whisper in my soul?
Poking through my mind-clutter
asking for attention
for a moment to be heard.
can life be more? Full? Satisfying?
Could I enjoy it? May be even thrive?

Full and free and flowing forth
For those who will partake.


The blank page of hope
The birth of newness
Creativity springing forth from solitude and stillness.
Bending before the truth in my soul that I am a perfect creation
No blemishes or imperfections – just life’s lessons of my past.
No shame in who I used to be for who I was is now redeemed.
Everyday more redemption
Everyday new birth
Everyday settling within myself.
Hope – this blank page. No nagging voices of my failings.
Hope – a fresh start
Hope – a light through the tree
Hope – saying yes to the unknown.


Michelle Kohler


In the first pages of a new journal I wrote this last night:
“In these pages are my heart. My soul. My musings. Themes. Ideas. My tears are spilled on these pages in agony.
My love poured out in words not full enough to explain the bursting in my heart.
My life is written honestly, open, vulnerable.
I offer this, myself, to these pages. Holding nothing back. Not seeking my own or myself.
The conversations on these pages are sacred. Holy. I hold them close to my heart, poured out of my soul, lifted to my God.
Held without shame. Full of grace. No fear. I stand naked before my God – my Father.”
What is your journal for you?

The Person Inside Me

This morning I was mindlessly scrolling through facebook adding my opinion where it didn’t belong and reading linked articles. One of them got me thinking about women and the ‘get out of my way, I will do what I want, you can’t control me’ attitude. 

I realized (again) it’s not what I want with my life. There is a part of me that wants that yes. I want to be strong and confidant and have everyone think I’m so amazing and not weak. 
But I’m not. 
The life I’m called to is of vulnerability and looking my shit in the face. It’s painful and doesn’t make me look strong. 
That part of me that wants to look strong kicks at this and there is my daily struggle. To stay in the vulnerable while the strong Michelle is screaming “You got this woman!! You are female! You will rise above all these lame ideas of weakness! We are NOT weak!!”
But the truth… I am not superwoman. 
Recently I found myself wanting to find stuff to volunteer to do. Just to stay busy enough that I wouldn’t have to face my true self. 
Because it’s painful for my hands and brain to be stopped and let the voice of quiet Wonder and Self Awareness speak up. 
I said no, thankful for self awareness and choosing this path of slowing down and finding a person inside me I lost very slowly over many  many years.
She’s beautiful and loud and funny. Her sarcasm comes out in moments I don’t except or think appropriate. She has a tender side that holds people in pain and lets them cry on her shoulder. Her love for people is unexpected and throws the strong me into choruses of ‘this is not how it’s done!’ and ‘who do you think you are??’ 
The more I see of this person inside me the more I love her and welcome her into my life (against all the screaming of old me). 
“But you can’t get away from yourself. You can’t decide not to see yourself anymore. You can’t decide to turn off the noise in your head.” ― Jay Asher,
“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” ― C.G. Jung
“I think that we are like stars. Something happens to burst us open; but when we burst open and think we are dying; we’re actually turning into a supernova. And then when we look at ourselves again, we see that we’re suddenly more beautiful than we ever were before!” ― C. JoyBell C.
“We search for happiness everywhere, but we are like Tolstoy’s fabled beggar who spent his life sitting on a pot of gold, under him the whole time. Your treasure–your perfection–is within you already. But to claim it, you must leave the buy commotion of the mind and abandon the desires of the ego and enter into the silence of the heart.” ― Elizabeth Gilbert,



Sunday I ate food I know I’m allergic to. I knew when I ate it and I still did. Today I realized I subconsciously let myself. I self sabotaged.

When I was a child I learned to handle living in a very controlled environment by causing myself pain-sometimes physical and sometimes emotional. The point was to feel something. Eventually it lead to addictions that lasted many many years.

I don’t do those things anymore. Its been long road but I’m slowly finding healing from those damaging addictions.

I’ve always looked like a good girl and even now I’m still the good girl. I don’t even let myself pluck my eyebrows or wax when I’m mad or needing to release pain. Because i can’t let myself go there. To that pain.

Yet I still find ways to make myself feel miserable. I eat food I know my body can’t handle, or i attack people I love.

The first step for me is realizing it. And the second step is telling people.

If you can identify with any of this know you’re not alone. Healing from addictions and self abuse isn’t easy. Many have traveled it and many of us are on the road right now.