Katie Steedly’s first-person piece [The Unspeakable Gift] is a riveting retelling of her participation in a National Institutes of Health study that aided her quest to come to grips with her life of living with a rare genetic disorder. Her writing is superb.
In recognition of receiving the Dateline Award for the Washingtonian Magazine essay, The Unspeakable Gift.
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The Amen Corner: On how we learn we are seen and loved

I delivered a eulogy at my grandmother’s funeral. Standing in front of those gathered to celebrate and remember her, I recollected that she always made my brother and I — her grandchildren — feel like we hung the moon and the stars. She loved us deeply. She was part of my Amen Corner. An Amen Corner, loosely understood, is a corner in a church reserved for the most fervent praise. The kind of praise that starts in your bones and must be shouted. The kind of praise that is the heart’s exclamation point. The kind of praise that propels prayers directly to God or Allah or Source or Love. I want to suggest there are Amen Corners (or at least I hope there are) throughout and around and within and above the corners of our lives. Let me explain. Think of the people (and may there be many) who get your back. Think of the people who are the cheerleaders at your football game, the ovation at your opera, the lawyer in your court. Your ride or die. Your hill to die on. Your moon and stars. (It occurs to me there is a reciprocity to Amen Corners that I need to think more about.) That is your Amen Corner.
I remember when I learned I mattered in this world — when I first felt seen and loved. Feeling seen and loved might be the biggest gift we are ever given. Somewhere in the gift of feeling seen and loved is my Amen Corner. Nights reading and endless rides to lessons of all sorts. Homework sessions and proofreading. Jigsaw puzzles and tending the garden. Dance recitals and musical performances. Church. Twenty years of all that taught me I matter. Twenty years of all that taught me, “You are loved. Now don’t be a jerk.” Twenty years of all that taught me the meaning of pay it forward. In a world that does not do a great job of teaching us about love above and beyond transactional relationships, generosity simply for the sake of being generous, and kindness because that is who we must be, I want to nod to a different world. A world of being seen and loved. A world of safety and comfort. A world of Amen Corners.
About Katie

From Louisville. Live in Atlanta. Curious by nature. Researcher by education. Writer by practice. Grateful heart by desire.
Buy the Book!
The Stage Is On Fire, a memoir about hope and change, reasons for voyaging, and dreams burning down can be purchased on Amazon.