Helpless

It’s hard to feel helpless. As news swirls around us each day updating us with the latest restrictions or guidelines, perhaps we all might feel that way. After all- isn’t one of our main tasks right now- to stay put? As a doer who loves to go and go, the directive feels especially binding.

There are still many ways we can and should actively encourage our family in Christ and neighbors in the world- through texts, phone calls, delivering groceries, medicine, or meals, etc.. Yet for the large part, as the whole world stops in an unprecedented way- we find ourselves left with only our prayers.

Only prayers? Perhaps you’ve heard yourself say those words too.

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Horror Movies and the Power of Image

With Christmas behind us, January brings a chance to settle into the slump of normal workdays and winter blues. The first month of the year is one of what the box office calls a “dump month.”

Despite the slump, horror movies generally continue to bring in the audiences during this time, prompting a big release in the first week to start the New Year off with a bang (or perhaps a scream).

Between Hollywood and the litany of streaming services, the constant availability of horror movies confronts Christians with a question: Should we watch horror movies?

The subject brings passionate defenders, discussion, and debates. As one who spent my childhood watching Michael Myers marathons for fun and having scary movie nights with my girlfriends, it’s a topic that hits close to home—especially since I’ve changed my mind.

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Labor of Christ in the Birth of Christ

It’s Christmas season. Nativity scenes have begun popping up in our homes, churches, and stores.

They’re usually the same—an angelic scene of a peaceful Mary holding her baby. That depiction is so common that it likely affects our own views of that first Christmas night.

How perfect and calm it seems . . . Together we sing, “Silent night, holy night / All is calm / All is bright”—but I’m not so sure I buy silent.

With a history of difficult labors turned C-sections quite literally under my belt, a silent birth seems like an enigma. After my labor experiences, the movie-perfect hospital scenes I grew up watching were replaced by pitiful screams and a bloody mess.

It’s been five years since my last labor, but I can still feel the sharp hits of pain in that hospital room. I can hear my pleading cries, feel my wet tears, and I can vividly hear my whispers to my husband: “I’m just ready to meet him . . .”

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Welcome!

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Welcome! My name is Brianna Lambert. I love to write in order to put words to the truths God is teaching me in my study and throughout life. Here you can find links to my published articles and some of my own blogs coupled with my husband's photography. Thanks for stopping by!

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