I’m quiet politically, but not the unsafe kind of quiet. I’m quiet because I genuinely don’t want conversations to stop. I want to listen. I want people to feel safe talking to me no matter where they stand (good, bad, and ugly).

I care about perspective. I don’t need to always be right, I want to be real. Authenticity requires vulnerability and humility. Even when I hold convictions, I know I am a lifelong learner. There are life experiences I have never lived.

I have been hungry, homeless, abused, and abandoned. I have also been fed, housed, cared for, and placed into a family.

Because of that, my desire is to let people learn and grow without feeling like they have to be defensive. I want to be reflective, not reactive. Coffee and connection are always welcome.

I don’t have all the answers, but if you are weary, on any side politically, religously, or even just mentally exhausted, I am here with a listening ear (hearing aids included for special effects 🫣🤣). I am your friend. I’m willing to listen, and my hope is to be an encourager and a light to anyone in need. I don’t care about being right (unless you’re my husband 🫣). I care about hope. 🥹💕

I attended a funeral recently, and sitting in the back of the room was a young man, maybe 16, frozen in despair. Tears burning but refusing to leave the threshold of his eyes, his body rigid, his stare empty. I recognized that shock. I’ve felt it before. Losing a sibling is the closest pain I could feel reflected in him. I felt it and stood in it with him for a moment. I felt my tears connect with his, and opened my arms. I whispered, “May I give you a momma hug, young man?”

He looked stunned that a stranger would offer human connection. He stood up and this kid, nearly six feet tall, wrapped his arms around me and melted into my shoulder. He began sobbing uncontrollably. The kind that bubbles up from a pit of despair. My momma heart whispered, “Let it out, baby. Just let go. Press into this unimaginable pain. It’s okay to hurt, it means you loved bigger than pride. Jesus be near. Jesus be near. ”

After several minutes he spoke through cracks in his voice, “My momma is in a different city right now. How could you know I needed a momma hug?”

I looked into his eyes and said, “Mommas know.”

He hugged me again. As long as he needed, I held on. Afterwards he had a smile on his face and I felt gratitude, not by hearing words. I could just feel it.

So many people, kids included, are carrying deep grief and heavy moments of despair. Fighting about politics can be a powerful distraction from caring for the beautiful souls right in front of us.

My challenge to you is this: Think about a moment when love was bigger than pride for you. Find that place in your soul, and ask yourself how to be more of that.

Hug a stranger. Lord knows we could all use a heart felt hug.

Love Ya,
Stephanie Ellison