She was the epitome of a “plain Jane.” Faithful and unassuming, Jane attended weekly church services with her family, and she gave regularly to those in need. Her dad was a pastor, and two of her brothers followed in his footsteps. Jane, meanwhile, was more likely to put her thoughts on paper than to preach.

I picked up my phone and texted the group, starting the confession with a gif of a woman covering her head in a box of shame. It’s me. I did it. I’m the problem. Crawling into a hole now.

Not too long ago, I had someone say to me “How do you do all that you do? You must be Super Woman!” 

In that moment, I wasn’t proud; I was embarrassed – and apologetic. 

Glamping in a 20-foot trailer has accentuated what I’d already discovered during 3 months of quarantine in our two story house:

Family is really hard, because love is really hard.

When I said I wouldn’t ride Goliath, I meant it with every ounce of my being. But there I was, standing with my two kids, a close friend, and her two children in line for the coaster that holds THREE Guinness World records for speed, length and steepness of drop.

Your Goliath may be a situation or failure that appears to be bigger than life. It’s a fear, a sense of inadequacy, a frustration, a broken relationship. It might be failing health, your struggling kids, a difficult job or any number of circumstances that seems to be spiraling out of control. Day after day, our Goliaths rear their ugly heads, daring us to take them on.