February came with the prayer that God would be my Refuge. And, of course, He answered. I spent time in Psalm 31, soaking in the truths, finding my broken-record heart to be carefully listened to by the God of all beautiful things.
I found Refuge.
And I am living proof that God is always ready to receive weariness, discouragement, and a world of disjointed emotions. I am comforted by the Holy Spirit who intercedes for me. I am comforted by the Living Word which floods this desert-soul with truth and burrows deep for the promise of another spring.
For the wonder that I can experience quite a few spring-times in one short year. For Psalm 31 which sustained my heart in the second week of February. And Isaiah 40 which reminds me that God is powerful in both wisdom and understanding while intimately present in my life with love, nurture, and kindness. Read more
I am not a robot. My heart isn’t programmed, it’s pursued. My eyes aren’t blind, but they fully hope for the unseen.
I am not a robot. My hands aren’t held shut, they can spread wide for blessing. My feet can walk which way they choose, and I choose this. I choose Him.
I am not a robot. My soul isn’t metal, it’s made new. My voice doesn’t recite by script, I can pour out what’s real.
I am not a robot. I whisper it softly, boldly. I am not a robot. I release my hands shut tight. I am not a robot. I can pray without a script. I am not a robot. I approach the throne of grace.
I am not a robot. My eyes are ready for what they cannot see. I am not a robot. I remember the truth, pour out your heart before Him, God is a Refuge for you. And I throw out my fresh, new script again. Read more
In 2017, I was abruptly met with discouragement. I created a playlist called Hope for My Heart. It was filled with songs of encouragement, songs written out of sorrow, songs laced with hope and the promise of joy. I listened to that playlist for countless hours. I added many more songs as the days and months rolled by.
It was balm for my sleeping heart and truth for my slumber. I chose to believe God though I did not feel awake or alive in spirit.
I would make dinner and listen to the music. I would take a shower and listen to the music. I would fold laundry and listen to the music. And I’d listen to the music on our way to church.
I would share a few songs with my friends and apologize to my husband for playing the music on repeat in our home. Of course, my husband didn’t mind at all.
Toward the end of 2018, I wasn’t listening to the playlist nearly as much, but I still thought of it as my go-to playlist…as it had been for months. Read more
Last January, I wrote a post about my dream jots for 23. My life as a 22-year-old was broken up for most of the year. I experienced intense spiritual warfare and disappointment. I had to give up long-held, suffocating views of God to really see the God who sees me, the God who doesn’t live in my box...ever. Life at 22 was a necessary, flat-on-my-face, long fall into the shadow of God’s wings. Here I learned to hope and rest in God.
But then my 23rd birthday came like a crossroads. And I was ready to fully live. It was time to step into life. My desire for 23 was simply, “I hope I can look back and say, AH, I lived rich. I lived better. I lived LIFE.“
on our anniversary
truly beginning to walk into joy here
Perhaps, the best birthday present I receive today is that I can honestly say those words. I lived rich. I lived better. I lived LIFE. In God’s grace and with the boldness He gave me to stop hiding beneath my covers, I was able to open my arms wide and step into life….again, again, and again. Read more