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.
just 5 minutes
You’ll notice I write A LOT about nature. There’s a reason why.
In 2012, I read a blog post that shared the physical and emotional benefits of being outside in fresh open air. The post was moving and convincing. At the end of the post, the author challenged to go outside for five minutes, that it could change my life. That was it. Just five minutes.
Those five minutes did indeed change my life and the lives of my children as well.
in my experience, fear will try to drown you
I can’t even begin to tell you how many conversations with my husband have started with the phrase “𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.”
I’m not talking about sitting in there elaborately fixing hair and make up. I’m talking about just a really quick, just a second, kind of deal. At the time, we had no TV to babysit the children and they really were happily swinging on a swing set (𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 5-13). It felt harmless-big words for this helicopter mama.
𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙠𝙖𝙮.
the turning
The day had started rough. There had been words about college application essays, consonant blends(the “r” can be brutal, yes?), morning chores not done, and a bike that had brakes removed and thrown away(that one still does not make sense, but I digress).
radiant
In our day to day lives, there are moments that are fleeting and there are some moments that, even though seemingly small, make a huge impact. Words are such a thing. They have a weight and depth so deep they can barely be held...and yet they hold us, nurture us, breathe emotion to us.
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.