walls crack, waves wash, love lives
I think we’re scared to reach for goodness and truth-we’re scared that truth will roll in like tsunamis, ready to purge distraction to see what’s left. We’re scared of what’s left. That maybe what’s left isn’t enough, like I’m not enough. And God says no, this is goodness and truth. What’s left is the space that separates you from Me, come. Waves roll, wash me to Him, heart resuscitated beating with peace. This story, your story? He knows the end and it’s good.
it’s okay to be angry-just don’t live there
When someone asked me a decade ago why I wasn’t already writing for special needs parents, my gut response wasn’t pretty. It was honest, but not pretty at all. I was scared to write for special needs families. To be able to write in a way that addresses the very real pain points in a way that could be encouraging would mean I’d need to deal with my own pain as a special needs parent. I’d need to dig deep and digging deep can unbury a lot of unpretty things.
gracious Lord
“But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.” Jᴀᴍᴇs 3:17-18
the lie of perfectionism
I saw someone from high school...that still looked just as beautiful as she did almost three decades ago. I know looks are superficial, but I was gutted.
leaning in
There’s nothing like a good before and after; but, for some reason, we rarely talk about all of the unspoken messiness in the middle. It could be because it’s not as glamorous, but the messy middle is where the nitty gritty beauty begins. That’s where I sat with home education this summer, the messy middle, hunting and yearning for beauty.
restore
I grew up with immense admiration for my great grandmother. Suzie was poised energy, accomplished and adored. When someone commented that they had never seen Suzie cry (even though I had secretly witnessed her shedding tears behind a partially closed door), I mimicked her battle plan as my battle cry. I pushed down hidden fears and tears for three decades.
heated climate observation
Today’s nature walk brought us to watching two bird nests. Wonderment & wide eyes watching, looking & listening for four little birds destined to chirp beauty nestled within twigs of hope. We noted their location & vowed to quietly observe & check on them frequently without scaring mama bird away.
name it holy
The words 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙮 have been germinating around in my head for a few years. I think it’s because there have been poignant moments in my life where only the supernatural can fully receive the credit. Moments that I was privileged to witness what happened. Experiences that can’t be explained otherwise.
This morning was one of those moments.
the breath of Thursday
𝑻𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔?? 𝑇ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒-𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒-𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑, 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟.
My grandfather convinced me I could accomplish more than I could imagine on a scorching Georgia July 𝑻𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚. It was our last conversation. I came home to North Carolina and he passed two months later before the leaves even fell. ⠀⠀
𝐿𝑖𝑓𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡-that 𝑻𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 had been where I learned what it looked like for…
⠀
in my experience, fear will try to drown you
Fear would have loved to drown me that morning and fear would love to grip and drown you at the most tender places of your heart, too.
rise
I opened a text from my husband & saw a picture of our 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒(we name our houses) engulfed. This once tiny treasure, this little slice of holy we were blessed to inhabit for five years, was being dismantled by flames to create space for a new dwelling place.
It had been a safe place away from the hustle & bustle where our boy could heal, our marriage restore, our souls revive.
Our lives had fallen apart & then, at 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒, it fell into place. We rose as God transformed the ashes of a holy ground into a plume of sheer beauty & grace that still has us gobsmacked. When we arrived at 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒, our life felt like drowning fire, choking like smoke, burning the eyes, & trying to steal oxygen.
We fought hard for any peace in those flames, clawing until we found a glimmer of light, & chased the silver linings like a daily methodical manna.
𝑇ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑗𝑜𝑦.
‘tis so sweet
“𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭.”
every tall tree first had to…
𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭.
Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛᴇɢʀᴀʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴏʟᴅs ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴛs ᴏғ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ.
What we have to remember is that the dirt can either 1.) nourish us or 2.) make us a muddy mess depending on how we approach it.
I ran away…
Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀ Tᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ ᴀғᴛᴇʀɴᴏᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅɴᴇss ᴡᴀs ʜᴇᴀᴘᴇᴅ ʜɪɢʜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇ. 𝐒𝐨, 𝐈 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. I’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴍʙᴀʀʀᴀssᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴛᴇʟʏ ᴀsʜᴀᴍᴇᴅ.
Lɪғᴇ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ sʜᴏʀᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴘᴇɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ-ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ.
just five minutes
𝐈 had 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 could 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.
The year was 2012 and Ann Voskamp said I needed to walk five minutes of fresh oxygen into my cells each day(full disclosure: it was her blog post that told me-those daily blog posts coming to my phone were a lifeline). I’d been breathing through a cracked open window for two weeks in tiny snippets by that point and the idea of fresh air felt like a heap of timid amazing.