Rebecca Parker Payne
writer, woman, wife and everything. believer in whiskey, bluegrass, and flannery o’connor.
53 posts
SEE YA 2016

2016 is gone. And while no one is more ready to say goodbye to this year and face 2017 with hopeful anticipation, I'd be remiss if I didn't yet again number my joys from these past 12 months. Because we have to remember the good, to carry with us the moments and things that brought light into dark places. The old scriptures have many references to remembering. There's so much...

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The Both/And of Advent

Let my soul rise up to meet you, as the day rises to meet the sun... I’ve done a lot soul-searching over the past year, and a whole lot of dealing with all my— let’s call it— complexity. And one particular aspect of this complexity, is that I feel a lot of emotions. Like, lots and lots of feelings. However, it is hard for me to process them, and it’s...

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Life, In Exponents

Last month, I played matron of honor at my youngest sister's wedding. I cried, I laughed, I toasted and danced. Then, within 6 days of that, I said goodbye to my grandmother. I kissed her hands, and wrote an obituary. What I want out of life is for it to come in ones. One event, one emotion, one holistic experience. But that doesn't happen. Life comes in exponents instead-- joy, sadness,...

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nothing to do with it

Chris and I went on an enneagram retreat recently. It was two full days of white-knuckled self-awareness. Two full days of I'd rather pull the covers over my face and hide forever.  But after two days of total and complete denial, we relented because it's far easier to just be at truth with your self, than to try to keep writing your own perfect narrative of your own very less-than-perfect self....

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2015: A Year in Review

2015 was a year of a lot. Just, really, a lot. A lot of changes, a lot of feelings, a lot of beginnings to understand things about myself, about Chris, about the life we want. In all honesty, this is the year where the rubber met the road or perhaps more accurately, where the deep, gross, hidden stuff hit the fan. Life quieted enough for us to see who we...

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