JULIA HARTLIEB

Baby, I am not a fan of the mandatory hug. I tend to hug only people who came out of me or people who put people inside of me (yes, pause, let that settle). So if I hug you—or more accurately, if I allow you to hug me—it means something. Something real. Something chosen. Something big...

Baby, if you’re waking up day after day with your jaw clenched and your soul pacing like it missed a flight, come with me to the cross. Not to perform. Not to explain. Just to fall down in a very undignified heap and finally set the load down. The heavy one. The old one. The one you keep dragging...

Pray. Pray like breathing depends on it. Pray without ceasing and without performing. Pray without embarrassment, without polish, without a five-point plan. Pray without control, without cover stories, without pretending you’re fine. Pray ugly. Pray honest. Pray desperate. Pray with...