I love a good label on a glass jar.

Lately I’ve been trying to figure out how to label my coconut oil salt & sugar scrubs.

I’m not artsy so it’s a struggle.

I can whip out a label for an envelope like nobody’s business.

Mason jar labels though, I’m gonna need to outsource that mess.

There is no easy transition into this next thought process.

Like an awkward toddler learning to walk, I’m gonna just lurch on forward & try not to hurt myself.

I have used labels in the past so candidly.

So inappropriately.

So hurtfully.

Can we talk about mental health without everyone freaking out?


We use that term so loosely.

Thankfully it has lost a lot of stigma & is now recognized as somewhat normal part of life.

An everyday struggle for some.

A temporary feeling during trying circumstances or after crisis for others.

We could also use the words sadness, the blues, feeling overwhelmed, or the baby blues.


She’s anxious.

He’s a nervous nelly.

Experiencing overwhelming fears.

Feeling worried.

Feeling like you can’t breathe.

Being scared.

That fight or flight instinct that is so strong.


Seeing red.

Being mad at the world.

Feeling upset.

Being frustrated.

Getting pissed of, (my mama will kill me for using the P word. We are southern ladies, we just don’t do that!)

Feeling like no one listens, no one cares.


Experiencing a roller coaster of emotions.

Rapid cycling



Bipolar 1

Bipolar 2

Multiple personality

Oppositional defiance disorder



The list of labels we use could go on for miles, months, years, decades…whatever expression you prefer.

I know & love a multitude of people in each category.

I have used these labels so frequently & hurt friends & family.

I have been labeled.

I have also recognized when the actions of loved ones are stemming from feelings associated with these labels.

An empathetic nature combined with a sympathetic heart makes for one mama who feels way too much & recognizes things that others are not ready to be hear.

I’ve learned that the hard way.

Talking, listening, helping, accepting help, taking meds, being honest, these are the things that matter.

Not the labels.

And loving.


Walking away when help is not received.


Can’t nobody stop me from praying.

You’ll never know if I’m whispering a prayer for you in my early morning devotions or during my late night wake up calls with my sick babies.

But I promise you I will pray if you ask me to.

If I know you.

I’m not trying to invite strangers to my house, ya know what I mean?

I’ve got a strong, silent, walk softly but carry a big stick kinda husband.

Don’t forget, you can pray.

You don’t need me to do it for you.

But if you are lost in that wilderness & can’t even get the words together, I will lift you up.

I will plead your case. And I will cry myself dry.

Jesus loves you, this I know.

And He is perfect.

He will never let you down.

He will label you as his own.

A child worth dying for.

A lovely soul that He has good plans for.

Plans to prosper you.

Plans to give you a hope and a future.

Plans not to harm you.

It’s ok if you think I’m full of it.

It’s ok if you don’t believe a word you just read.

That doesn’t change what I know to be the truth.

Blessings to anyone who reads this.

I’ll try real hard to be funny & irreverent next post.

Love y’all!


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