IS THERE REALLY A TIME FOR EVERYTHING?

an ancient Book mentions that…

THERE IS A TIME FOR EVERYTHING.

But, i guess i’m asking myself… is there?

in our fast paced world… it seems like the only thing there’s time for is… well…

there’s no time

it’s always about running

always about #hustling

always trying to reach it…

it?

and often not a time for anything

let alone

grieving.

i’ve been realizing how much my heart is still processing grief. loss. a breaking. a tearing.

and when you’re heart has undergone such a great tearing

i’ve forgotten or maybe misunderstand… been ignorant… that it takes a really long time to heal

and sometimes you’ll find that you’re all-of-a-sudden crying as//your tires feel the crunch of gravel- an unfamiliar feeling because it’s been so long, but a sound that tells you that you should be home// or as you’re stroking the mane of a horse that just stands quietly but so near and i can just lean into her neck and sob and she doesn’t leave and she doesn’t leave//or when you’re walking next to the high way and you’re trying to be ok – trying to accept this new life, but life just keeps swirling on and the cars just keep aggressively whipping by…

from the heart is the wellspring of life and when that vessel has been shattered… it can be hard to believe real life can really flow. ever. again.

but. i’m learning that, whether i have all the answers to that or not… i can take all those broken pieces somewhere

so, when the tears come, i don’t just keep them to myself. don’t just let them drip down and onto my new summer dress and onto the concrete underneath my clad fee. but instead, lean into my Father. the One who stands behind me and catches me and catches my tears and says that it is no small thing. he doesn’t mock me. he doesn’t force me to be better. he holds me. like a little girl who scraped her knee. and he rocks me and he whispers to me.

and i feel a little piece of my heart healing.

but

even if i didn’t

even if i didn’t have any answers or see any results or make any progress or think all the “right things,”…

my Dad wouldn’t let go of me. wouldn’t stop loving me.

and isn’t that reality what i’ve been yearning for all along?

 

 

 

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GENTLY WE GROW

sometimes, inside of me, all the parts of me feel like jagged sharp edges

with no directions

and i try to sift through and straighten and bring order, but i end up just cutting my hands

so now it’s blood and sharp edges and mess and maybe i should just give up

but you don’t

you don’t give up

you lean down and sit with me and hold my bleeding hands and

we sit

and you don’t leave me here

you meet me here. right in the mess.

not in spite of the mess.

no, whether the mess was there or not, you’d come.

and i think this changes everything.

for your name is One who Holds it All Together. One of Order. One who is the Healer.

and yes, that changes everything.

THE HERE AND NOW

sometimes i think i am always waiting // always holding my breath //for what? // for when life starts //for when life starts? //but when does that happen…//what i am waiting for?…

….

i don’t want to look back and see, that in all the moments that i could have really been feeling the world around me…

the strong, i’m-here-now-so-it’s-summer, poky grass on my feet

the violent rain whipping through the trees

the soft sunlight on my skin

that all i felt was. nothing. because i wasn’t living yet// fully breathing yet// because i was just waiting.

..

but something i’ve been realizing, growing into, is that sometimes the reason i’ve been waiting is because i’ve been playing the victim card. // and sometimes the reason i’ve been waiting is because i thought i didn’t deserve to really live// and sometimes the reason i’ve been waiting is because i was waiting for the perfect scenario or the ideal to happen.

but something else i’ve been realizing is that i want to FEEL the poky grass on my feet – how it spreads up into me and reminds me that it’s summer and a new season and that newness is possible // i want to FEEL the violent rain whipping through the trees and down onto my skin as i run home – filled with all it’s fury and coldness and refreshing// i want to FEEL the soft sunlight on my skin as i take a walk along the edge of the garden- how it waltzes with my freckles and the little bleached hairs on my arms and seems to warm my very bones//.

i don’t want to miss even these very small things

which actually may be some of the biggest things – because it shows that i’m present in my bones and experiencing the smallest details around me // i don’t want to miss this

and i have a choice in that

i’ve been realizing that i am a powerful person with powerful choices

that i’m woven with dreams and thoughts and desires and delights and that i don’t have to wait for a perfect moment to act on those or to let my hair down and lean into grace

and the things that have happened in my past. they don’t get to keep defining me. that can end now.

the negative banter and thoughts in my head don’t get to dictate my future either. that can end now too.

it doesn’t mean that the future won’t be hard and that i won’t be met with challenges and brokenness, jagged glass and barbed wire fences. i might want to retreat back within me, and maybe sometimes i do, but the invitation, the freedom to come back out and live, now, is always there. so the fear doesn’t get to keep defining me.

the only thing that needs to define me. gets to define me is truth.

the truth that my very frame is woven with purpose for the NOW moments.

and i don’t need permission from something or someone or somewhere to start living these moments

i just get to start.

right.

now.

and it doesn’t have to be huge and world-revolutionary and now i’m flying on a plane to Bali.

no – it can just be as simple as stopping. and breathing in. really breathing in. letting your lungs fill all the way. all the way down to their very depths. and then pushing that air out. rooting your feet down into the soil beneath you. arms reaching up and into the afternoon sunlight. eyes dancing across the vibrant green arch of oak leaves above you// heart and mind and spirit and soul and body accepting and realizing and celebrating that this heart in your chest was made for purpose. was made to beat. was made to be alive and to live. right now.

that YOU were made for a purpose. made to be alive.

and it get’s to start

right.

now.

////

“and He took her by the hand and said “talitha cumi” which means “little girl, i say to you, arise.” Mark 5:41

 

 

 

 

SIMPLE BREATHS

sometimes, in the moment, i forget to take a breath

i forget that where i am isn’t a mistake

i forget that i’m not the only one here

i’m afraid that i’ve been forgotten

and my chest becomes tight. and i feel i need to fight for myself. and i forget to breathe.

i forget that the very words written on my bones are:

hope

life

purpose

so, that, even when my surroundings aren’t boasting those words

offering results that would be in alignment with the scrawllings,

even still, those words remain.

etched into bone and fiber of my very being

breathed into me from the beginning

so,

i can lean back. close my eyes. realize that there is One who fights for me.

even in this jungle of life that sometimes feels like mundane- nothingness, like a fear provoking blank canvas desert –  and sometimes feels like a torrent in the middle of the deepest, darkest water, sucking me down and pullling water over and into and through me -thouroughly puncturing my lungs and my mind and my life, heart-beating vision with its force.

but. even though i sometimes forget… i’m beginning to remember, that my circumstances don’t need to define my level of peace; my level of comfortablility with trust.

 

rather, these very things: peace, trust, hopeful anticipation, surrender. these can dictate and set the very temperature of the waters that are trying to currently freeze me out, scare me out, drown me out. or the desert that’s trying to dry me out – taunt me to believe that i can’t handle it, can’t do this thing called life.

but i wasn’t made to drown, i wasn’t made to flee, no matter what the voices are telling me.  there is One – the One who wrote purpose and life and hope on my very bones who tells me a different story. pulls me up onto His knee and lets me lean into a soft, safe, strong embrace – one that smells of pine and freshly roasted coffee, and far away freshly cut hay –

and he whispers

that i was made to sail.

that i was made to float.

that i was made to rise above the tides that suck down and pull confusion all around.

that i was made to tell the one who taunts to shut. up. and DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO???

that i was made to not retreat but to push and persevere and defeat and WIN

that i was made for .victory.

and that, in all of these moments, i was made to breathe

in

out

in

out

deep, simple breaths

because, through it all, no matter if i remember who i am or if i forget,

the One who etched life into my frame, wove it into my DNA

He fights for me

and He is near

and He is close

so, i can breathe

in

out

because He’s got me.

inside and out.

and we’re gonna see this thing through.