The landscape that evangelical women live in is a howling wilderness littered with the blood, sweat, and tears of thousands of hardworking, weary women . . . and also with the carcasses of the faith some of them have shed as they’ve given up in despair and exhaustion.

Where do we find the strength to go on when our weakness and sin seems to drag us down? Listen for some good news.

Just this morning I awakened to the news that two more police officers had been shot…this time in my own city. As I scrolled through my Twitter feed, I read other accounts of political corruption at the highest levels of government, and terror attacks around the world.

When I was a child, I had a recurring nightmare. I would dream that I was standing on a darkened stage, completely alone. In my dream I wasn’t able to move, hide, or even speak. Rooted to the ground in terror, I sensed a threatening presence lurking just out of sight. I was lost, wandering. Somehow, and though I didn’t know how then, I knew I was ruined and had ruined something, and that there was nothing I could do to make up for my mistake.