Meet Ali

Here’s the deal. I’m an internal processor and introvert. Do you know what that means? If not, you probably have never been in therapy. Give it time. You’ll get there.

Like I was saying, I’m an internal processor. Which means when you ask me how I’m doing today, I will gladly answer you tomorrow. It takes me some time to digest and process and articulate what all is stomping around upstairs. And it sure doesn’t help that the three babies I’ve birthed and the husband I wed keep me mighty distracted and mush brained. It’s probably best you give me a week before I get back to ya, just to be on the safe side.

As if that wasn’t enough to drive you bananas, I’m an introvert. Which basically means that if you and I are hanging out on my couch, I’m ready for you to leave a couple of hours before you actually do leave. What if I’m only staying a couple of hours, you ask? Yeah, that’s a problem. Just stay home. (It’s not you. It’s me.)

I know, I know. I sound like a total winner. The truth is, I’m a mess. Most of the time I prefer to be holed up in bed alone with a mug of fresh black coffee and words. I really really love words. Sometimes my words even make up for that internal processor introvert thing. Sometimes.

Actually, and maybe this is where I should have started to begin with, but more than anything, I’m crazy about Jesus. And the real crazy thing is that He’s crazy about me. And so by His love, I manage to crawl out of my burrow, one crooked step at a time, and love. I don’t always love well. But He keeps at me. And by His grace, His loves overpowers all my nonsense.

All that to say, welcome to my lair of words and grace and love. It’s sure nice having ya.

And please, don’t mind the mess.

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