Don't wait.

The sky is slate gray and harsh. Blood red trees reach dying leaves up to the sky, death never more alive and beautiful than now. Gold and orange, copper and salmon, reaching high, making one last stand before falling still, silent, forever silenced from thin arms left naked.

I sit here, staring out at ever changing shades of gray drifting across the sky, and thoughts come quickly, slowly, and I am filled up, longing to be poured out.

Someone asked me last night what I was doing. If I was in a season of waiting. My knee jerk response was, yes. Actually I am...But then, it came quickly. That gentle wind and whisper, the Spirit moving across the soul dwelling inside of me. You are not waiting. You already know. Yes. I know. There I was, sitting in a room full of others who use words because they are gifted in this way, and I had the audacity to tell this beautiful lady posing the question, that I am waiting. Waiting. I am not waiting because I don't know what I'm suppose to be doing. I am standing still, not moving, almost holding my breath, because once the breath comes out, once the dam breaks, once the arrows are pulled taught and sent flying, there is no going back. There is no going back once you hear the Call that has been placed on your life...and you answer. 

I listened to others talk about how they lack confidence, or time, or words, or whatever it was. I sat there, almost wishing I could come up with some of these same reasons...except I can't. Literally. I cannot lie and say I lack time, for I am in a season where time is available. I cannot lie and say I lack confidence, because I have heard the Call, as if the very blood in my veins runs black with ink, I know that I was literally created to write words that are not from me but Him. Whether this is in the form of lyrics, notes, or words upon the pages of a book, or across the screen of a blog, this is what I was created for. I cannot lie and say that what I write holds no value because not enough people read the words penned, for long ago, when the words were taken away for a time, I learned how valuable even one person reading what I say is. It's not about the numbers. It's about you. That one person. So, I gave up writing with the aim of having many followers, or many readers, but simply write for you and for Him and because I literally can do nothing else.

So, there is no going back once the Call is answered. We lose our lives, we die to all we first wanted, that we may find all we are in the One who sends forth the Call. It is beautiful and terrible and scary and it makes us brave all at the same time. We are Called. Chosen. Yet, the hardest part is not hearing the Call, but answering. Making the first stroke upon the canvass, penning the first words, seeing the first vision of what we can create, being the one that takes care of children, being a parent, or guardian, a singer or carpenter, banker, doctor, lawyer, whatever it is, we are all Called. We have been Called. How we answer, this is the crux of it all. This is what will determine where our joy flows from. What will the path laid before our feet look like. For there will surely be a fork along the path where our feet may walk for the One who Calls or where they may walk for us and us alone. Which fork will we choose? Where will we go? For to answer the Call, whether for the One who calls, or for ourselves, this will make all the difference.

Sitting here, watching red leaves reach high, I wonder what it will look like. What the answer to this Call will do to the life I have been asked to lead. I know one thing- it will be an adventure! It always is when I smile and grab hold of the hand reaching out to help me along this road. It will be joy filled, Spirit lead, hard, amazing, and everything I could ever dream. 

Listen. There is a gentle whisper, a moving of the Spirit across the soul dwelling in you. It is calling forth the flame that has been placed there to change the world. What will you answer? Will you go on this adventure? Where the most ordinary of moments are exchanged for the extraordinary? Where the most simple of lives is transformed into that which makes a difference? What are we waiting for? Life is too short...oh darling, let's be adventurers!

for you in this moment.

(not my picture, I just think it's beautiful)

It's late. The night is black and dark and deep. Sitting here in the stillness, the words come easier and all that is felt becomes that which can be held, examined, and looked upon closely. Feeling slightly drowsy, hauntingly beautiful voices drift in and out, woven ever so perfectly with strings played, like silken dark chocolate, bitter and wonderful all at the same time.

Crickets sing an ancient song and stars gaze down. Alone in the dark, here in this moment, I take into my hands the words that will capture the shadowlands alone of what is felt. Gazing up at silver lights dancing, there is this achingly sweet knowing that though I cannot see all that is laid out before my feet, the One who holds the lights in the deep of the night does.

He knows.

Notes drift, strings sing, crickets speak, all in the dark and deep, all in the heart of the night. Stars gaze on, and thoughts come slow, waltzing in and out, lilting back and forth. Slowing sweetly as the dim beginnings of lyrics form. Oh life, how strange and wonderful, bitter and sweet, aching and lovely you are. Continually twisting and turning, yet, beyond all, so worth the living. So worth the breaths drawn, the songs sung, the moments captured in the deep of an ever fleeting night. Stars still gaze on and crickets still sing of the One who holds the silver dancing lights in the ink black canvass of this night sky. And what I know to be true beyond all else is, He knows. He knows and this is enough.

He knows.

All.

I am small, and all I worry about is smaller still. I am human. He is not. There is a sweet joy that flows from this thought. He is not. He is faithful. He holds silver, laughing, dancing, lights in each night's sky and has for every night that has ever been birthed through all the ages of this small world that has never been my home. He is faithful. Faithful unto the stars and far more faithful to this one daughter of His. It has been so for all of my days. This thought, this is joy. And a smile breaks across this face He thought up as He created the foundations of the world.

So, here in the deep of this night, He knew you would read words penned across a screen. He knew that one small child of His would take words felt, writing out the rhythm of a night breathed into a heart held by Him, sending them out and beyond to be read by...you. Now. For all He does is planned and done when we need it most. So read now the words He would have you know. You are His. He has a plan that was set in motion for you when He created the world, and He will be faithful to see it brought to completion.

The war is real and the fight is hard. Often we want to give up. Don't. Keep fighting the good fight, knowing that He is with you. Every step and moment lived, you are not alone. And you will know Him by His voice whispered, perhaps heard clearly through words written on a very ordinary night...

....you are loved. Child of the Living God, you. are. loved.

This is enough.

let's talk.

Let's just go out for coffee. Or better yet, let's meet for breakfast. Let's talk about Jesus and Ireland and how good really good coffee is, and how music is like the air we breathe and how if we couldn't write it or play it or sing it, we might be in serious danger of losing ourselves. Let's talk about movies and books and writing and photography and how life is really weird, and kinda insane, and we're really just trying to somehow make it through. Let's talk about adventures and how we really want to just whisper, "Oh darling, let's be adventurers." But, then we don't, and we're not really sure why. Let's talk about how we absolutely couldn't do this thing called life without our Savior. Let's talk about how we're pretty sure our friends could be legitimately nuts, but we wouldn't have them any other way, because at the end of the day they color our lives like the strokes of a paintbrush across canvas. I mean, let's just really see each other. Why? Well...because...I see you. And I want you to see me too. I want to know your story, and my heart really wants to share mine. I want to laugh with you until our sides hurt for no other reason than we simply can! Life is beautiful and crazy, but it gets too serious and I want us to be that bright spot in each others day. Like....a sparkler lit:) Would you be my sparkler?

It's just...I saw your face, and I really wanted to know you. 

Coffee? Maybe? 

Or breakfast? 

Because, I think I might change your life.

And there's this kinda amazing and beautiful chance that you could change mine too...

dedicated to all of you who've seen me. you know who you are. 

because of this.

There is this beauty that I'm discovering. This unimaginable, soul stirring, breath stealing, life altering, I can't imagine anything "more" kind of beauty.

Here. Because of this. It's all because of this.

Morning light. Glass shattering. Fragments scattered across floors bare. The room is unfurnished, golden beams glistening off pieces strewn. Murder deep, remembered. On a tree...how do I realize the scandal of the beauty all around me? The scandal of grace. Forever shattering the mold fixed and set. The hour glass was altered, the glass shattered, and the sands of time through the room contained in earth, changed.

Here. Because of this. It's all because of this.

Hands palm up. Heart flayed open, mortally wounded. Dear God, here it is. Surrendered forever, held close by this scandal that is grace. This scandal that called out, voice piercing time and space. Eyes gazing down through the ages. There. I feel them on me. Gazing deep and calling forth the fire within.

Tempted. I am often. I am weary and tired of the fight. I want to give in, drop my sword. Jesus. I cannot bear up under it anymore. Let me create what I want, be what I want, do what I want. No. STOP. These words given are not my own. This life bought is not my own. It was bought with blood running down, with the murder of the Man who has captured this heart so many ages later.

Here. Because of this. It's all because of this.

Love reaches out. I am stretching forth arms grown weary. Soul longing to know ever deeper the Author who pens the story of this life. The One who shattered the glass. The Creator who changed all that should have been. The Savior who reaches back, grasping onto hands reaching up, smiling deep, eyes pouring forth love that is beyond anything I've known. It's because of this. This is why the sword is grasped tighter.

Let me not forget. I am weary and time runs short. Yet, He is greater still. May He call forth Lazarus in our lives, where hope is dead, bringing forth from the grave a radical new life, crying out like a trumpet blast:

"I am HIS. I am LOVED. I would change the world by losing that which I cannot keep, gaining that which I may never lose!" 

Here. Because of this. It's all because of this. Because of Him. He is enough. 

Always.

Send forth a trumpet blast through the land of the Living and call forth those whose hearts burn with the fire of the Living God. Elohim sits on His throne and you are loved by the One whose face shines like fire! 

"There is no fence that can keep the advancement of the Kingdom of God from pressing forward. Therefore, I will strive on, until the world is brought to the feet of Christ." ~Charlie Cederberg

I find myself here again, heart burning, eyes piercing, standing with sword drawn...

scars born and hearts wandering.

Today…is slipping by, silently, slowly, quickly. These are words that pour forth from the cracks where light leaks out of a soul sitting. Sitting. Thinking. Pondering. Aching. Hurting. Longing. Knowing.

And today, it is slipping by.

Coffee steams. Milk and honey float and dance, gently becoming one. Sipping slowly. Thoughts swirl and dip, diving deep into a place where you pull them back. Thoughts of beautiful faces. Kindred hearts spread across a country large…Alaska, bringing visions of winter and somehow, warmth. Of kitchens and laughter, wrapping scarves tight and holding coats closer, laughing and running from one house to the next with a beautiful friend who captures and holds stories close to her heart. These images float and drift about, like the snow that is sure to come soon to this Narnian world in which she lives. Northern lights will shine bright, stars with look on with laughter, and this place will heal that which needs to be healed, and scars will form where once were wounds, and there will be beauty and joy from ashes. For scars born are reminders of hurt, but scars also prove that healing has been done. And for this, I am thankful. Learning now, finally, at the very end of my twenties, to bear my scars proudly. They make us who we are and remind our hearts that our God still knows what will make us more beautiful than even we can imagine. Scars. Imperfections that show we are perfectly capable of running hard after the One whose past is our future.

And today, it is slipping by.

Hearts across the miles. It's beautiful and strange how distance can be breached. How conversations had can close the caverns that stretch out. A Wisconsin morning and today started off with her voice, sleepy and waking, sipping something from a cream colored mug. Down comforter bearing warmth and still holding her close. Laughing and talking about a summer almost gone, catching up and shaking heads at how things are never what we anticipate. Oh, life…you're….strange. And beautiful and terribly hard and we know this. She and I, we know. We have laughed and cried in the deep of the night, hearts breaking and texts reaching out, asking if the receiver is still awake. The receiver opening heavy eyes to simply text things like "I understand" and "I'm praying" and "It will not remain this way forever." We know. Across the miles that feel large and small, we have reached out hands and found that, we are not alone. Morning light has broken many times over after these sorts of nights. With the light we remember, He holds all. He is all we want. We want only Jesus, and light creeps through the cracks of souls which are weary. But still, we would have it no other way. Let scars born bear forth that He is all we need. Let hearts shattered into a million pieces cry forth unto the One who bends low to hold us close. We can whisper and cry out about these things, sharpening iron upon iron, because there is no room here for the other to simply stop because it is too hard. So, we push and pull and tug each other closer still to the One who has captured our hearts.

And today, it is slipping by.

Tennessee hills have welcomed her laughing eyes and sweet smile. She was for so long, just the author of letters that came when the soul within me was bent deep in night. Pressed down and unmoving, feeling alone. Somehow, out of this, gentle words found there way through her beautiful heart to mine which was broken. Her heart that had been shattered before mine, it shone light through cracks made and reminded my own that it too would one day shine out again. Jesus drew near and knitted us, smiling at His story, authored into a beautiful friendship. Smiling now, at miles spanned, until there she was. Waiting at the train station. This soul that mine knew though we'd never met. Eyes shone bright, smiling and shining forth the love she bore for the One whom we both love. And we walked. Talking and laughing, feeling how surreal it was to finally meet, yet knowing, even if we never had, we'd still be the dearest of friends still. We talked. About life and hearts and souls and scars. For she too bears scars that bear evidence of pain and healing. We smile. Knowing. She and I, we know. That faithful is the One who allowed the scars, and He will bring all to a beautiful end, though we have no idea what the story will look like between now and then. More scars? More pain? Probably. But, we know. He is faithful. So, as iron sharpens iron, we remind and push and tug each other closer to Him.

And today, it is slipping by.

I am reminded again, how blessed I am. Not materially, for I don't boast a large bank account or nice car. Yet, I am rich beyond comparison. For I have souls in my life who constantly remind me how beautiful each and every day that slips by truly is. However, these three souls, they understand what it is to be a wanderer. A creative. A musician, photographer, writer, a soul that constantly craves the movement of the sea and tides, sweeping us out to lands unknown. Stirring up our creativity. They are the ones I could whisper to, "Oh darling, let's be adventurers" and with no hesitation or questions asked, would simply pack up bags and cameras, computers and journals and reply "When?" They understand the war inside that constantly craves adventure, change, no ties, and yet would have roots that run down deep at the same time. They are the gypsy souls that my God knew I'd need in order to not feel alone. They are the ones that care not for logic and rules and plans, but love all that is within the reaches of imagination.

And today, it is slipping by.

I am not the woman you will ever find coloring within the lines of this life. I fear nothing more than a gilded cage, made beautiful with white picket fences. Let me smell the spices of India, the blue of a Mediterranean sea, or the quaint gardens and moors of England. Let me find the hidden and enchanted beauty of the Oregon coast, the haunting sweetness of the Lowcountry of South Carolina, the colors bright of Colorado. Let me see all this. Let me be a storyteller always. I am the one who will not be tied down, but loves the deep conversations of long nights spent under stars in tents pitched high.

And today, it is slipping by.

Oh darling, let's be adventurers...

things remembered.

The mist hung low and wet each morning, caught between densely covered mountains reminding one of The Lost World. Stare long enough and they will almost convince you that at any moment, a t-rex might step out from among the trees. Those grey mornings, hauntingly beautiful, hold memories turned to ghosts that float here and there, quiet reminders of what was. The coffee on these mornings was hot and strong, removing the fog inside and leaving only that which clung to the mountain tops, not wanting to leave, yet unable to stay. 

It was all like walking back in time. Everything stood unchanged...or, at least, as unchanged as something can stand in this ever changing life. The river was beautiful and clear, running slow and quiet, whispering of a little girl who believed in fairies and Prince Charming, who believed in happily ever after, because what else could possibly happen? What other ending was there? So, with no other option set before her in this life, she hoped for all things, dreamed of much, imagined a far different life than the one this woman has found. 

Different. Not bad. Just different. 

Entering childhood once again, places almost forgotten, were revisited. Worlds imagined, beings unknown created, creatures that were as real as the wet mountain air around me, were somehow rediscovered. Dancing through each day so long ago, imagination was cultivated and the path to fairy land known, its path worn deep with each step taken into its realm. 

Standing once again on that path, surrounded by the ghosts of memories passed, they floated down once more. There, flitting back and forth, were gossamer winged fay, laughter bubbling up and out of beautiful rosebud mouths, asking where I’d been, exclaiming over how much I’d changed. Like Wendy reunited with Peter after she had dared to grow up, it’s hard to explain to memories that do not change, beings created in childhood that, you can’t much help it all. You have to grow up. Father Time demands it and leaves no other choice than to change with the passing of each moment you draw breath. 

How do you explain life? How do you explain to childhood creatures who are unchanging, that each moment you live changes you? Life recreates you. A young heart that is pure and unknowing brings to life those which are as well. Yet, unlike that young heart, which will be broken many times over, cracked and shattered, but then rebuilt into something new and older, something stronger for all the cracks and shatters, these little created hearts beating inside imagined creatures, will not change. They will forever remain like their creator’s heart, staying in the place she was when she created them. 

So, revisiting hurts. Reminding creator and created that though you may remember, things are not the same. Here is where a choice is placed before you: Will you choose to walk away because the explaining is too hard? Will you choose to not tackle the change with an older and wiser heart? Will you walk back down the path and leave behind forever that which you imagined so long ago? 

Or...

Will you stay and explain? Will you look around and remember the place the creatures came from, the place created in a different, but beautiful heart? Will you stay? Will you take words and craft from that deep well, new worlds, new creatures, new memories, from a stronger heart that remembers? From a heart that walks the path to fairy land often? Who still dreams of happily ever afters? Who can remember what being a child was like, reminding those who have decided to leave what it was, and capturing the young hearts of children who still live in this place? 

Is that even a choice? For as much as life has changed me, as different as I am, as much as I’m reminded of who I was so long ago, and see it contrasted against all that I am now, I still remember. I have not forgotten the way back. I hold in my heart the key that unlocks the door of the secret garden, where ogres roam, unicorns are real, and fairies dwell. Where knights save damsels in distress, princesses are strong and brave (occasionally rescuing the Prince), and trolls live under bridges. Where waters are crystal clear, castles reach for the sky, and where the rules of logic and reality are defied in order to imagine all the wonderful things that are possible inside this realm of imagination. 

There is only one choice for this heart. The life I lead is incredibly beautiful, not because it is extraordinary, but simply because I see with each day that passes how to find the extraordinary beauty in the most ordinary of moments and places. I have truly found that from which it all stems...the one place where imagination is created and cultivated, where worlds are imagined that point to the One from which all stories are told. I am a Storyteller, a dreamer, a lover of life and imagination, because the Living God dwells within me, and at His feet I have found the way back to childhood. 

This life, the current one I have, it has been filled to overflowing with pain, with the reality of what life on this earth holds, but I am constantly reminded that this is NOT my home! Oh no, there is SO much more to come than anything we leave behind, as C.S. Lewis said. So. Much. More. But, while I am here, let me be a Storyteller who creates worlds that taste of Heaven. That forever press you to gaze forward, always with eternity in sight, and longing for your true home. Like Narnia did for me so long ago, may all that is imagined from this side of the screen create a longing in your heart for that which you did not even know existed within you. For Jesus is more than enough and being home with Him is what we should crave above all else. While we are here though, while we are still on this business trip on earth, let’s enjoy every, single, moment that is gifted from above. 

This is the path I choose. And this path is worth it. 

we're fine.

I'm fairly talented at being able to box certain things up. Putting them on a shelf, tucked far back and out of the way. There are times when I might glance over at the shelf and the box and reach out a swift hand to push the box further back on the shelf, where less is showing, where reminders can't be given. I try to keep this to a minimum. Because even one glance, even one look, and everything I have so neatly boxed away might come spilling out.

I simply have no time for this.

I don't have time to unbox and lament over every moment that hurts. I don't have time to regret and feel like I wasted these beats of my heart. I don't have time. So, I keep them boxed away. Neat. Unseen. Because that is what we do, right?

"How are you?"
"I'm fine," I smile.

Boxed away, the beats tug and tighten. I'm fine. Fine.

The day is warm. Whispers in its air breathe the distant promise of autumn. Light streams through thick leaves, filtered and bearing green warmth down through reaching branches. It dances across the forest floor, heating the ghosts of leaves past, coaxing them to release their woody smell of days gone by. Face turned up, I breathe in. Breathe out. Thoughts float about, lingering and fleeting. If there had been a different choice, if there had been some way to see and know and act differently, would I? Would we?

"How are you?"
"I'm fine," you smile.

Boxed away, the beats tug and tighten. You're fine. Fine.

The horizon stretches out, endless and wide. Sloping down, a slate grey sky gently reaches out, deeply kissing the horizon's upturned mouth. Salt and sand and the cries of gulls fill the air. A song sung from ages past, it fills up and spills over the thoughts swirling about. Waves crash and pull back, beating the box inside. Bare feet sink down in soft sand, deep and comforting. Stillness. Would I change it? If the pieces had been placed out before my feet, seen and understood, looking down years and months and days to come, would I choose different? Would you?

"How are you?"
"I'm fine," we smile.

Boxed away, the beats tighten, tighten, tighten. Demanding to be taken out. To be felt. To be examined with the magnifying glass of experience. To be dealt with. We're fine. Fine.

Here we are. We stand in the forest or on the shore. Thinking, wondering, longing, aching. Would we change it? Would we do it any different? But…

…if we did, what else would we change? Like the ripples on the surface of a glass pool, they carry out and change every, single, moment. If we could, would we change the outcome? If we did, the outcome, our lives, every moment would be completely different.

Would we risk it?

Would it be worth it?

The box is frightening and deep, resembling a black cavern that may swallow us into its belly. Wait. Step into it and shine the light of experience. Let's shine the light that pierces the doubts and say to it, we know better. We cannot be swallowed or overtaken or stopped. We stand on the other side of what's inside of that box. All that's left now is to open it and deal with what we've placed there.

At the end of the day, where we are, this is exactly where we should be.

No regrets. No longings to change. Just now. Here. Let's live this. Let's deal with this. Let's move forward.

reminded and found.

I found it on this hot, humid, almost unbearable August afternoon. I found it in the ordinary moments that drummed by, beating, beating, beating. Slipping past with micro pearls of water hanging thick in the air. I found it deep in the coffee steaming, in the laughter of those around me, in the clang and clatter of dishes being picked up and used. I found it in the whirring of fans, circulating air that hung hot and heavy, reminding me how this heat would condition me to itself if I stay in the South very long. I found it in the little local book shop, where a sign hung, hand written and unpretentious:

I found it here. I wanted to run, but there it was, reaching long arms out and around me. It came with the text that reminded me of another sent by the same sender months before. That text that had come when I needed it most, when the words seemed to jump off the screen and hold me close, reminding me that though it didn't feel like it in that moment, everything was going to be ok. I thought about that text, saved in my phone, somewhere amongst quotes and lists of things to do:

"Jade. He may be the best guy to ever draw breath. It doesn't mean, however, that God meant him to be with you. Other people cannot see what's going on in your heart and mind. Only you can and if it feels wrong, then don't force it."

I found it in a thin gold band, tucked away in a beautiful local art store. A delicate gold band that now resides on the middle finger of my left hand, just above the middle knuckle. One that I'd been keeping an eye out for months. The woman behind the counter smiles at me, gently saying:

"Oh…I made that. I just love those!"

"Yes, they're lovely," I murmured back.

"What's your name?"

"Jade…"

"Well, that's a beautiful name. I won't forget that soon! Where are you from? Not here…"

"No…South Carolina, but Colorado just recently."

"Well, welcome to our town!" Smiling, she seems to search my face.

"Thank you. It's wonderful here."

"Yes, we think so," and then, "My dear, I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for." 

"Ah, thank you. You nailed it." I think to myself. I place the ring on the glass counter, paying and turning to wave as I walked out of the old door that's chipping white paint. 

It came knocking again, standing in line for coffee. I took the steaming mug from the smiling barista behind the counter, handing her my plastic light blue card, when suddenly the voice behind me said in a slow southern accent: 

"I'm ordering something too, and I'm going to get that for you. Someone did that for me last time I was in here, and it'd be my pleasure to pay it forward to you."

"Oh….. [trying to hold back the tears]….thank you." 

"Now," he said, "Could you recommend something to me that's iced?"

I smiled, pointing to something written in bright colors on hanging chalk boards above our heads.

I found it hidden through the doors of a little cabin, tucked away beside the lapping waters of a large lake. Where wooden stairs lead to a quaint little dock and private beach. I found it. I saw. I am seeing. 

Beauty. Purpose. Moments. These are what matter. 

Music drifts into my ears. Slowly. My mind wanders. I think about the people that unknowingly helped me to see today or who reminded me to think back, of moments when they touched me. Not in a way that is shallow or easily forgotten, but in ways that truly struck down deep in my soul something that resonates. And that resonating sound reminded me that people are beautiful…just as beautiful as sunsets across the water, if you allow them to be. 

These moments, small and forgettable, I collected them and I found it. For it is not about the place, but the people. Those that help you remember and find...

…Home.

doubt and streams in the desert.

Just write. 

Sometimes the words dam up inside. They push and pull, wanting to break free…but, like chains, something holds on tight. Strong. Not letting go. 

Just write. 

Lately, I've worried a lot about what I'm doing. Like waves crashing down and scooping me up again, I've thought and pondered and contemplated what's next. Because, obviously, my God cannot handle my problems. So, I look up at the sky and let Him know not to worry cause, I've got this one. I'll handle it. The feelings push in that I've been left out to dry…I'm tired of this up hill, dang hard, I can't seem to get my footing, super long hike I feel like I'm on. And have been on for my entire life. 

Just write.

Clearly, everyone else my age has their life together. No one else is questioning what they're doing, they have a plan and that plan is working out exactly the way they wanted it to. Yep, this is just me. I'm the only one caught up in the current of uncertainty, of wondering, of freaking out, of thinking about what's next and longing to simply know. :drama:

"For I am the Lord your God, who upholds your right hand, Who says to you, 'Do not fear, I will help you.'" ~Isaiah 41:13

The words whisper, swirling all around my heart.

Doubt. 

Just write. 

Fine. But it doesn't make me feel any better. :stamps foot: I feel unseen. Did you lose me in all the masses, Father? Did you forget that I'm over here? :waves hand wildly in air: Jesus, we had a plan. Did you forget about that? Don't you remember what it was??? Security! Certainty! A future! You've left me out to dry. 

"Say to those with [an] anxious heart, 'Take courage, fear not. Behold, your God will come with vengeance; The recompense of God will come, but He will save you.'" -Isaiah 35:4

Hey! Are you listening to me?! What am I suppose to do? 

Just write. 

I AM WRITING. :shouts:

No, write this. Say this to those with an anxious heart. 

BUT WHAT ABOUT MY HEART?! Did you forget about MY heart?! I CAN'T write when MY heart is anxious! :wails:

Ah, am I not enough? Am I not greater than your heart? I AM that I AM. You will never be certain until you speak truth. I AM that I AM. You are who I have said you are. Be. Still. 

Tears. I am small and I am doubtful. I talk big, but when the fire comes, I scream at the heat. I ride the waves that my emotions send. Yet…..

…..yet. He is greater still. This I know. I don't have to feel it, for I know. 

"…for waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert." ~Isaiah 35:6

Then break them forth in the wilderness of my heart, Jesus. Let the message stream forth that courage is near and there is nothing to fear. Behold, your God will come. He will save you. 

This is what I am to do. Write. Worship. Let my life forever be a worship song unto the One whom my soul loves. Let my words send forth a sweet aroma of Jesus. Because He is worthy. He loves you. You are seen by the One who created the stars to shine forth. You are loved by He who looked down through the ages to gaze upon your face and said, it is good. Man, I can't think of anything I'd want more than for you to sit on the other side of this screen and understand that, though there are times I feel unseen, though there are times you may too, we. are. seen. He loves us. We are His. 

"You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth, And called from its remotest parts and said to you, 'You are My servant, I have chosen you and not rejected you. Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.'" ~Isaiah 41:9,10

heartstrings and all.

It's having a moment creep up on you unexpectedly. Like a string snapping, bouncing back and just like that, the heartstring is cut. Or at least one of them. Your chest aches a little less, your breath fills your lungs a bit easier, and for a moment, you feel weightless. Just like that. They are few and far between, these moments. Maybe you're one of the lucky ones who has no heartstrings tied anywhere…and in a way I suppose that's a good thing. No worries about them being tugged on, pulled tight, the tension aching and the pain more than you could have imagined possible at times.

I have two ways of looking at the whole business of heartstrings:
1.) You have loved someone.
2.) You have loved someone.

Simple;) Except, not really. Sometimes, there are heartstrings attached from disobedience to what the Lord has asked. Heartstrings attached to those that could have been avoided. But, then there are heartstrings in place to teach us how to love the way our Father loves, hoping for all things and expecting nothing in return. Because honestly, loving someone does not give you the right to their heart. It does not give you a right to their life. Loving someone, having your heart attached to them, this is tough, but it's ultimately wanting the very best for them, above all you may "feel" in the moment. Period.

So, no matter what kind of heartstrings we have, the bottom line is that they prove we have loved. Yeah, maybe they hurt or maybe they're being fulfilled (so happy for you if they are!) but, either way, they prove that we have, indeed, loved.

And you know what? I think that's pretty incredible actually! We have had the privilege to love someone, no matter what the outcome has been or is going to be. It's such an honor to simply love. Isn't that what we're called to anyway? To love? Love without the complicated mess we attach to the word, love beyond all we feel, love in action…yes, it's an honor. To see people for who they really are, to not just talk to them but, to see them. Looking deep and seeing their souls, that this person is a child of the living God, and knowing beyond everything we feel, we are called to love! You and I, we are called to this.

You know what else? If we can get to the point where we live with no strings attached, simply because Jesus demonstrated this and called us to do the same, it is the single most freeing thing we'll experience after the Cross. Seriously. To love in a way that flows directly from His heart, like a fountain of living water that drenches everyone around us, this is like water in a desert unto our souls, or it can be if we allow it.

Today is…indescribable. There are some seriously huge inner struggles that I've dealt with for the past two years and today, today, one of those heartstrings that was pulled tight was released. Whew. You don't realize how good it feels to have it release! Do you know what I felt first? This amazing love for Jesus. This echoes over and over and over through the corridors and rooms in my heart, "You are all I say you are!"

I am all He says I am. I am ALL He SAYS I AM! 

You and I, this is what we are! We are all He says we are! His children, redeemed, loved, adored, royal! Let's love straight from His heart, no matter the hurt, no matter the scars, no matter the heartstrings pulling tight, and let's be all He says we are! Let's live today aware of this beautiful God who gave it all that we might be all. All.

All.

this day.

There are many things I'm trying to figure out in this thing called life. There is much I don't know. One thing, however, that I've been thinking about a lot is, how truly interesting and complicated and beautiful and terrifying and wonderful, people can be. I love watching, observing, looking deep within and catching the light glint off that broken window pane down in someone's soul.

Fact: We all have broken windows within us. 

I don't want to just talk to those around me. I don't want to simply swim in the shallow pools that we so often are content to swim in with others. I want to dive down, to listen and know, to be still and have another's soul slowly be revealed. We are fragile creatures. We build up walls around our true selves, determined to not let anyone see who we really are.

Fact: What an incredible waste of time this is. 

Instead of expending all our efforts on building up walls, what if we tore them down. What if instead of walls, we erected a beautiful fence, covered in vines and blooming roses, with a gate that swings easily open when the right person walks through. Boundaries. Boundaries are different than stone walls erected high. Boundaries don't allow just anyone to walk through, but if the right person has the key, they allow the gate to be opened to the garden where our souls thrive. There will probably be many broken things within, because no matter how hard we try to do it all "right" life in general carries and hands out situations that are simply broken. We cannot expect to get through this life without brokenness. Yet, even in this, even in the shattered glass, there is beauty.

Fact: We are not made to be infallible. 

We are allowed to get it wrong. We are allowed to not always have the formula that gives the perfect answer. There are no perfect answers in this life. That's just not how it works. However, the beauty remains that, through the imperfect, the flaws, the shattered and beat down, there is beauty that would not be there otherwise. If we were perfect, always right, never stumbling, the robots we would become could never compete with the imperfect, living and breathing creatures that we are. We are not perfect, we are often wrong, but our broken need of our Savior is truly beautiful beyond compare.

Fact: We get one life. One life to live fully. 

So, what are we doing? We have one chance at this thing called life. Today is the only day that the clouds will hang in this day's sky. This day will not come round again. This day's sun will not shine again. This day is the only one of its kind ever in the history of the world and throughout eternity. Breathe in. Breathe out. Smile because you will not have a chance to smile on this day ever again. If today calls for tears, then cry them well, for they will not fall from your eyes on this day at any other time in your life. Kiss someone deeply, hug someone like never before. See those around you for who they truly are. Do not be fooled by walls and false facades. Live. Because you will not have the chance to live this day ever again.

Open your eyes and see.  

Open your eyes and see. 

let me show you.

not my pictures and not claiming them, but they sure are pretty;)

It's beautiful, you know. It's waking early, after staying up too late, your bed unwilling to relinquish your body, sucking you deeper into its warm depths. But no, you push away the down comforter, being hit by what seems to be air straight from the arctic. Quickly then, you jump up, hurriedly walking towards the kitchen, trying to navigate stairs that are still a bit off kilter from the haze that still envelops you. Through the fog that is thick inside your brain you look for coffee, wondering why you didn't just get the dang machine ready the night before like you always say you will and never actually do. One day, you will get the coffee ready the night before, so you can be that well organized person who greets the morning with the simple push of a button. Heh, yeah right. The fact that you remembered to set your alarm is cause for some serious celebration. And you will celebrate! With coffee! If you can ever find it. 

Finally, those dark grinds make a contrast against their white bed and that beautiful morning drip has begun. Glancing out the window, the morning light is pushing down through leafy green filters, softening it ever so slightly, and allowing its golden fingers to gently caress the silver dew that blankets the ground. Mist hangs here and there, scattered through pastures surrounded by white picket fences. Like a gentle breath breathed into newly formed lungs, the day takes shape around all of this, made up of salmon colored, golden air, kissed by the mist that is dissipating all around and in it. The light grows ever brighter, awakening a day that has never been, reflecting off of dew soaked, silver window panes. Gently, quietly, a beautiful ballerina gracefully entering the stage, the morning comes, sung into being by sleepy birds and the drip of dark liquid from a gurgling machine. 

That ache deep within begins. Knowing you've caught something unaware. Something hesitatingly beautiful. Moments forged deep and long ago to simply be this…just ordinary and simple. Still, they were thought of and gifted to this warm, dew soaked, golden morning. The risk taken was that they would never be noticed, that they would pass into oblivion lived and breathed, but never seen. Ah, but they were seen. They were seen and caught up in the imagination of a writer who noticed. They were formed into words upon a page and immortalized for others who were gifted this kind of morning, yet didn't see. 

It's beautiful, you know. To catch these simple moments unaware. They go about unassuming, believing they will never be found…stunningly beautiful in how ordinary they are. Ah, but beautiful things do not have to herald and cry forth that they are beautiful. They do not demand attention. They just simply are. 

This is my gift to you. I can notice and catch up the life that has been gifted to me. I can pull you into my morning, my moments, my beautiful ordinary life. I do not want to simply tell you what I've been given, I want to show you. Did you see it? 

It is still morning…open your eyes and see what you have been given by the One who created this morning for you before the world ever spun upon its axis. Look. See. Breath deep of this one wild and sweet life you've been given. Capture this morning and never look back. 

of cell phones and social media and how i've really failed.

I've had this on going problem since I've had the pleasure (sarcasm) of owning a cell phone. For whatever reason they seem to absolutely hate me. They don't deliver texts when I need them to, sometimes they don't send texts when I'd like, calls won't come through, calls won't go out, calls are dropped because…well….they can be, and in general, things just do NOT work the way they should. It's a problem.

It's become even more of a problem over the last few years, mainly with the invention of social media and the smart phone. Now, here's the thing, I really enjoy social media. I think it's an amazing way to reach across the miles, bridge the gap, and touch others whom you might not be able to otherwise. I think it can be a blessing and used in a way that truly benefits the giver and receiver. However, I've seen the ugly side of it as well. I've seen people suddenly feel entitled to know whatever about whomever whenever they want. I've seen a growing dependance upon having immediate access to others through this technology we now have, not just through phone calls, but every other area. Someone doesn't answer their phone? Send a text. Text not answered? Send a message over Facebook. Message not answered? Post to their wall. Still no reply? TWITTER! Hmmm….nothing yet? Try Skype. Try calling again. Try texting. Leave outraged voicemail and then, when all else fails, please feel free to announce to the entire social media world via Facebook wall just how angry you are because you can't reach this person! Fantastic.

What is going on?! When did we become the most connected disconnected society EVER?!

The thing is, I bought into it. Then, a few years ago, I swung to the other end of things and got off of Facebook and every other form of social media all together for over a year. Now, I'm trying to find a balance in this crazy world in which I find myself. Because, you see, I'm an introvert and while I've been in the habit of having my phone glued to my hand, it's more to use it for that window into the outside world instead of a window into my own. I value privacy, I guard my time, and while I want to be accessible, I do not believe in others having an entitlement to access me at any moment the urge hits them. Nor do I expect to have access to others in this way.

So, this is all a really long way to say that I've now got a seriously reliable and brand new phone. As far as I can tell, it does exactly what I need it to, when I need it to. I had this kinda panicky moment this morning when I realized that I no longer have the legitimate excuse of having a crappy phone that doesn't work. I now have to confess that my phone works better than I'd probably like it to, after literally years of dealing with phones that just…didn't. Because they hate me, of course.

So, this is me telling you, that yes, I am now pretty accessible. If you have ever experienced how hard I am to get in touch with, if you've become frustrated with me not receiving voicemails or texts or whatever else, I believe that I will now be receiving all of these.

Please do not get too excited.

There is also another reason for this little blog post about my cell phone and social media use. Now that I have a reliable phone, now that I can be reached, I will try and get back in touch with you before months and months go by. However, this is also me making a confession.

Ok, here it is:
I am an introvert. Seriously. I can do a really good job of convincing you that I'm not, but at the end of the day, I am absolutely 100% the truest definition of an introvert. I adore being around people, but I require time alone to fill back up again. And being an introvert and having talked to other introverts, I have to let you know that I have an absolute loathing of my phone in the traditional sense and voicemail. I don't really understand where said loathing comes from, I'm just letting you know that it is physically one of the hardest things in my life to actually sit and listen to a voicemail or answer an unexpected call, especially when I think you might not be too happy with me. I literally will have the thought sometimes of, "Wow! I really love that person, but I am seriously not mentally prepared for that conversation, even if it's amazing!"  I'm working on this. Also, if I feel like you are demanding access into my life, I have this knee jerk reaction where I close up all doors and shut all windows into said life. I'm working on this as well. Because, the thing is, I treasure the people the Lord has given me and I want you to know this. I treasure you. But, even though I value you, this is NOT me giving you free and immediate access to me.

Yes, I have a working phone. Yes, I post frequently on Facebook. Yes, I blog and write often and generally flit here and there on my computer. No, I will not answer your texts immediately every time you text me. No, I will not return voicemails within an hour. No, I will not respond to messages right away. Does this mean I somehow care about you less? NO!!! It means that I'm trying to keep healthy boundaries in place. I'm seriously working on not swinging to the other end of that spectrum where I don't give enough. I've done that. It sucks and I've hurt people. However, I'm truly working on that. This is actually me working on it at this very moment. Because let me tell you, I really didn't want anyone to know my phone didn't still suck…ha. But, I'm trying. Because YOU MATTER to me!

With all of that said, now that you know I have a great phone (I hope) I've also made a decision. This phone, as wonderful as it is, will NOT be going with me everywhere. There will be stretches of time when I don't have it, when I've either literally left it and walked away, or simply put it in my purse and will not be checking it. Why? Because the people in front of me matter just as much as those on the other end of this device. Because, it's rude to check my phone every 5 seconds when I'm with someone, and I KNOW I do this. Because, I'd rather deal with truly communicating and the awkward silences that may or may not come, than to use my phone as a safety net to get out of communicating deeply. Remember how I was talking about healthy boundaries? Yeah, I really need them in this area of my life. I need to be able to set my phone down and give my full attention to the person who is sharing their time with me, time they'll never get back again, time that they're gifting to me, and I am sick to think how much time others have entrusted to me that I've devalued by making a device more important.

I have been the worst at being present in the moment. And I am determined to change. So, please understand that I will probably screw up at times and won't be perfect. I might get back to you in record time or I might take a while. I might take my phone out while I'm with you and need to be reminded that I wrote this post;) I guess, what this is all about is being transparent and honest. I talk and write about it frequently, however, truly living it out is another thing. I'm trying to learn about healthy boundaries in a world filled with none. I'm trying to navigate being accessible while not having those around me dependent and needy of my every waking moment.

The other reason for all of this…and I'm not feeling super articulate about it…is that, I want you to know how much I love you. I really do. If you are truly in my life with access to my phone number or a real life relationship with me, you seriously matter so much to me. Even when I suck at letting you know. I've sucked at that a lot over the last couple years. The thing was, I used the hurt I experienced to justify the fact that I didn't need to respond or call back or explain because it just simply hurt too much. That's a lousy excuse. I was wrong. In so many ways, but especially in this. Pain is no excuse to stop communicating.

New phone, new rules:) I love all of you. Please have grace while I learn to clumsily navigate this thing called life.

P.S. My immediate family aka, siblings, grandparents, and parents are not being talked to in this post. You are THE priority in my life so, I WILL return calls and texts as soon as humanly possible…hopefully you will benefit the most from my reliable phone;)

i want it all.

But, what if you've used up not only your courage, but your bravery as well, with a feat that (you feel) resembles Frodo taking the ring into Mordor? Yes, I am referencing The Lord Of The Rings. No, you are not allowed to laugh. If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm a complete nerd. Also, I adore Tolkien (not to be confused with my deep love for Lewis) and if I could sit down in a pub with him and have a beer while talking about how dang hard it is to do life and write, I would. If I could sit and talk about life with he AND Lewis, I could safely say that I'd be ready to die and go home thereafter, because what more could you possibly want?!

Seeing how that's not likely to happen anytime soon in this life, I am hoping to have long drawn out conversations with them in Heaven. Also, I for now must settle with referencing and admiring their works, while trying to not ever compare my seriously lacking literary knowledge to theirs. Whew.

Back to courage.

Running seriously low in said courageous department and generally would like to borrow a hole (if you have one I can utilize, please, leave me a comment below) to crawl into for the next few weeks. Life is hard. Really hard. And as much as I don't care what people think, I struggle with really caring what people think. Does it dictate my actions? No. Does it still get to me? Yeah. It does.

For example: I'm standing in the kitchen and this completely random woman, whose thoughts on my life I could care less about, pulls back and shoots in my general direction after about a minute of conversation, "Well, YOU just need to decide what you want!" 

:ouch:

My reply: "Well, I just want it ALL." While thinking, "Thank YOU very much!" Followed by an intense desire to stamp my foot like a two year old.

It's the truth though. I want it all. I want to do it all. I don't want to look back over the span of my years and regret what I haven't done or what I have done or what I possibly, maybe, might have done. Up to this point, I can honestly say with complete sincerity, I don't regret anything. I'm 28 years old and I don't regret anything. Yet. I would like to not start building regrets at this point. I want to live, breathe, travel, eat good food, work hard, write better, love harder, care deeper, put others first, put myself last, be a swinger of birches, run with abandon, drink beautiful wine, laugh with pure joy, think outside the box, and know my God far more than I do in this moment.

I want it all. I want to truly be a picture of what Jesus is like. All of Him. To be transparent and unguarded, just loving Him and letting that spill  out to those around me. I want to just simply do life with those in my little corner of the universe at the present moment, living out the Gospel and when necessary using words to explain it. Life. I want to do it well.

I may be lacking courage because of things feeling like they're floating in mid-air, but when my feet hit the ground again, I want to run the race before me with eternity in sight, as fast and as hard as I can. Because the sand runs quickly through the hour glass of time and the grains flowing away will never be caught up again. So, I want to let them run through my hands with each grain being felt.

I am not courageous. I'm human. But, I want to be brave and face the things that scare me most, standing my ground and not ever backing down. I want to live with the knowledge that this life is temporary but eternity is not.

This knowledge has made all the difference.

I want it all.

So was I once myself a swinger of birches.

And so I dream of going back to be.

It's when I'm weary of considerations,

And life is too much like a pathless wood

Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs

Broken across it, and one eye is weeping

From a twig's having lashed across it open.

I'd like to get away from earth awhile

And then come back to it and begin over.

May no fate willfully misunderstand me

And half grant what I wish and snatch me away

Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:

I don't know where it's likely to go better.

I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,

And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk

Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,

But dipped its top and set me down again.

That would be good both going and coming back.

One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

~Robert Frost~

i know this...

(nope, none of the pictures below are mine)

Write one true sentence. The truest sentence you know in this moment. 

Okay.

Life is strange. Also, I don't know anything.

Have I mentioned that before? Going along, believing you know exactly the way everything will go. Believing you've finally landed on "the story" that's being written for you. I have to smile here because, I often find myself thinking I "know" about things. I don't. I have no idea. The truest thing I know in this moment is that I'm absolutely madly in love with Jesus. Seriously. I know this. I know that I'm made to write and create and worship. I know I'm learning a valuable lesson about my life: It's worship. Maybe that's the truest thing I know. I want to live my life in such a way that it sings and dances, lives and breathes, spilling notes and colors, joy and words, out into a beautiful lifetime of worship. 

I still worry a lot. About what people will think of my life. I'm working on that. Worrying doesn't equal how my actions are dictated, however. In the end, being at this stage in life I'm currently at, I might worry, but at the end of the day when all is said and done, I'll throw my hands into the air and in a most aggravated voice vehemently exclaim "oh, to heck with it all"…or some version thereof, and do exactly what I know He's called me to do, beyond what everyone thinks. At the end of the day when all is said and done, I may not have a successful career, but dang it, I have one chance at this life! One. I do not get another shot at it or a chance to rewind. I would rather live, taking every opportunity that comes and living a life that's full, than to work day in and day out, always looking behind and whispering to myself, what if. No, things don't always turn out or work out exactly the way you planned, but that should have absolutely no hold over us stepping out of the boat if He's asking us to walk on the water. Because, even if we start to sink, all we have to do is refocus and gaze into His eyes, and lo and behold, we're walking on water again! Amazing:)

He's faithful. I love Him. This is the truest sentence I know tonight in the inky blackness. I also know the stars are beautiful and that they dance and sing, sending down starlight that shimmers and laughs, telling me not to worry. I know that, even if I stay awake all night, tomorrow morning the sun will rise in the sky, gently bathing the world with subtle shades of dusky rose and lavender, finally bursting forth with a golden worship to the One who told it to rise. I know this.

Write one true sentence. The truest sentence you know in this moment. 

I want to write a life of worship that brings a smile to His face.

What is the truest sentence you know in this moment? Comment below and let me know:)

it is my privilege.

Just like that, everything can change. It takes one moment, one person, one song, one sunset, one sunrise, one kiss, one hug, one anything. It doesn't matter so much what it is or who it is that does it so much as the fact that, everything is different. I keep hearing that it's a choice. Loving. Maybe it is. Maybe some people get to look carefully, see "the one" and let it all happen naturally. Maybe that's how it goes. But, then there's another side to that coin. The side where, loving isn't a choice…it just is. Like breathing. Or walking. Or sleeping. It just happens and then there you are and here it is and this is life. This is the way it's written. Because, everyone's story is different. If there's one thing I'm truly learning in this life, it's that there is no formula. The way some people do it, the way they write about it, it's beautiful and wonderful, but it's theirs. That can be very confusing. To look at the way two people loved and start to make it the formula for the way you think your life should be. See, the thing is, there are absolutely things you should and should not do in this thing called love…but, using someone else's story for your own, I don't think that should be one of them.

Life is strange. Beautiful, but strange. Always changing and moving and never standing still, because it is a living thing. Full of stages and seasons, coming in and out like the tides of an ever changing sea. The tide happens every, single, day, but no tide is the same. The water is different, the sand is different, the shells along the shore are all different from the last. So goes life. One moment, minute, hour, day, week, month, year, none are the same. Forever moving, forever changing. We live this thing called life together, yet,  none of our lives are the same. None of our loves are the same. 

Sometimes you don't get to choose. Sometimes, in a moment, it just…happens. Just like that, everything changes. Fight it, but in the end, no matter what you do, no matter what it looks like, you can't help loving. 

Life is strange. Beautiful, but strange. God is faithful. But, I can't pretend like I have it all figured out. I can't pretend to know more than I do. There are things I understand, things I can look back on and see very clearly why they happened. Then, there are things that I have no idea about. There are things that I question and scream at Him asking "why" about almost daily. There are things that hurt and there are things that are incredibly beautiful that have all danced out across the stage of my life, and on both sides, I don't always understand why. However, beyond the "why" is the knowing. I know that beyond all I feel, He is greater still. No, that doesn't negate the pain.

Here's what I'm learning. Slowly. The point is that we love. Not that we protect ourselves, building walls so thick and hard that we never allow ourselves to feel anything. I might hurt from loving and losing or not having it returned or for whatever reason it might be (because there are a bazillion reasons that loving hurts) but, when I calm down and breathe deep enough to think about it, the kicker is I wouldn't change any of it. At least not for my life. For my life, those that I have loved have been worth it. They are worth it. Always. And no, I don't believe we always get the "choice" of who we love, I think there are times it just happens, BUT I do get the choice of what I'm going to do with that love. Will I push it away, or will I use it for the other person's good? Will I do with love what should be done? Will I truly pick it up and use it to place that other person's best interests before my own? Will I not be offended or angry or hurt if it's not returned, but just simply love? 

This is the choice I have. This is what's been placed before me. Sometimes love sucks and people suck, but that's not the point. The point is that I love. Love expecting nothing in return, yet hoping for all things. Because, it's beautiful and hard and terrible and wonderful and it can really, really, really, hurt …but….but, beyond all of this, people are always worth it. Friends, family, whomever it is, they are worth it. People are human, so no matter who it is, they'll hurt us and we'll hurt them too. This is all part of this things we call life. Still, it's all worth it.

It is my privilege to love. It is my privilege to choose how to love. No regrets. No expectations. It is my privilege, no matter the outcome. 

you're not me. perspective.

(you can look at the original artist's etsy shop for the above picture here)

I was talking to a friend the other day about being real and what I'm portraying to my audience through writing. I've seen it happen too many times where a blogger or author will write beautifully, captivating my attention until I'm totally swept up and connected to them, and then… then. it. happens. You meet in real life.

:enter very disappointing, kinda soul crushing, moment:

It's like, wait…are you the same person that wrote all those things that touched me? Do you have a twin? Did I enter the twilight zone? What's going on???

:enter a good dose of reality in which you realize that said blogger/author is human too:

Dang. Here I was seriously thinking that (fill in name here) had everything in their life together and was splendiferously magnificent to the point that I was convinced (fill in name here) was my new BEST friend because, after all, WE CONNECTED! I mean, I've sat down with (fill in name here) and had coffee like a bazillion times…well, I mean yeah, in my head…BUT, I WAS reading THEIR blog/book and drinking tea or coffee while feeling that way!

Hi! Welcome to reality. People kinda suck sometimes. But, you know what? You have a chance to do this whole "let's just be real" thing right. You and I can be exactly who we are, not comparing ourselves to anyone else, but simply just being us. I get so frustrated watching women compare themselves to other women who cross their path, looking at them and having the first thought be, oh wow, she's way prettier/smarter/faster/more beautiful/talented/gifted/etc. than I'll ever be. Clearly, this person is not you. You are not her. You are you and you'll only ever be you. Period. 

Do you know how amazing that is? There is only one of you. And honestly, you might not be a super model (neither am I) but, in your own unique way, you are more beautiful than anyone else, because you're you. Let's stop letting a media, a culture, a completely idiotic way of thinking dictate who and what we are. If you are a writer, then write. If you are a painter, then paint. If you are an inventor, then invent! Stop wasting your time comparing every single thing you are, every single thing you create to everyone else's whatever. It's a HUGE temptation to do that. I swear I fight that voice every. single. day. that whispers in my ear, "You'll never write as good as that one person over there. His/her writing is far superior to yours, the way they think blows you out of the water, and to be honest, you'll never write the next great american novel, so just stop. Give up." 

AH! Get away from me! That's what I have to consistently scream back. Because, part of this is true, and the enemy loves to interweave truth with lies in the most creative fashion. It's true that I will never think or write like anyone else. I will never be Pat Conroy or L.M. Montgomery because, shocker, I'm not them! I'm me. However, though everything may have been written before, I can simply write what I know to be the truest thing in my life. I am not trying to reinvent the wheel here, I'm just telling you my perspective. Isn't that all we can do anyway? Simply, give our perspective in whatever form of creativity we happen to be gifted with.

So, let's talk and paint and create and write and live and be, exactly who we are. Let's be real and live in such a way that who we are glorifies the One who created us individually to tell a story that is the same but completely and utterly different from all others at the same time.

#letsjustbereal