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Blog Thoughts at the Kitchen Sink

How Trauma Lives in the Body—and How Pilates Helped Me Let It Go

Lea TurnerUpdated on July 9, 2025July 9, 2025Leave a Comment5 min read

In the whirlwind of grief and trauma, I found peace in the most unexpected place—not in fixing everything, not in …

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How Being Mindful of the Present Moment Offers Us Hope

Lea Turner July 17, 2024July 17, 20242 Comments6 min read

If you lean in close, you can hear it—the desperate cry of people lost in despair, grieving what they thought …

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A Prayer When You’re Finding it Hard to Pray

Lea Turner February 26, 2024February 26, 2024Leave a Comment2 min read

For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not. I am the one who helps you.” –Isaiah 41:13 (ESV)

I don’t want to.

I have to, I know.

In all my best efforts, I attempt to ease my son’s hurt if only I could find him the right help, medication, or even an outstanding mentor. Or maybe if he could just grasp how much I long to see him set free from his suffering, he’ll walk away from all the addiction.

Something must give.

Finally, in a desperate attempt to save his life, I google drug rehabs and begin to make calls. One after another, until I find the rehab I think will be the right fit. As much as I don’t want to, I know my son needs help.

Two days later, we find ourselves packing in his room. He and I will make the four-hour drive to his first of three rehabs in just a few short hours.