"I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. If you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good, either. White hot and passionate is the only thing to be."— Roald DahlRoald Dahl is one of my favorite authors and people. I would like to have walked and talked in an apple orchard with him (partially because of Danny the Champion of the World), or sat on the seashore skipping stones for just an hour. His life is brilliant and sad and full and fascinating and his words feel like home. They are some of the biggest pieces of my childhood and some of the reasons I love writing and words and stories so much today.
white hot & passionate.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
learning & letting go.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
& so this is your life, are you who you want to be?
learning to bridge the gap.
learning what it means to let go. learning what it means to hold on. learning the difference to the two. learning that letting go sometimes doesn't mean giving up or giving in, but holding out for what is better, what is coming.
learning that I am made uniquely and wonderfully and beautifully, to be who I am.
& mostly. learning to let go of the things I cling so tightly to that do not define me.
a list :
thick ankles
fear
the idea of a perfect body
acne
society's definition of beauty
a cookie cutter life
apathy
pursuit of perfection
unwillingness to seek
& i will be bold. i will be brave with my life & story so others can be brave with theirs. i will be honest. i will be steadfast. & i will be who I am & live my life to the width & depth & breadth. & i will seek Jesus & I will praise His name & I will let my life be my song to glorify Him.
He has given me words to speak & a story to live.
& i will live it.
2013
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
my heart.
steady.
fixed in direction.
firm in purpose.
unwavering in resolution.
"My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast! I will sing and make melody." - Psalm 57:7
"Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fallow ground, for it is the time to seek the LORD, that he may come and rain righteousness upon you." - Hosea 10:12
"Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain." - 1 Corinthians 15:58
"If indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister." - Colossians 1:23
"[ Fight the Good Fight of Faith ] But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness." - 1 Timothy 6:11
"For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." - James 1:3-4
"Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him." - James 1:12
waiting & seeking
I'm in a really cool place in my life where there are so many crazy dreams coming to reality and I'm clinging to promises of God.
& at the same time, I'm surrendering other dreams and finding myself content to put them away, simply because I'm not ready for them yet. and I recognize that. a lot of what I wanted to do this year, back when I was dreaming about 2013 in july of 2012, I now see that it isn't the right place for me to be at. the doors that God closed are closed because I'm not at a place where I would get the most out of them. simply put, some things I wanted to do, I'm content to wait for God's timing with them, because I see that now isn't the right time.
realizing that it's not the right time and being content with that is something I've struggled with for so long. I'm not a patient person (but praise God that He's working in me!). but now, I feel so at peace. I'm content. I know that God has good things coming and some things are for this season and others for another. which is fine by me -- in fact, it's great & wonderful & the best because I trust God and His timing. I know He has the best for me and has an abundance of blessings and good things for my life. learning to be grateful for this season here and to understand that some doors are closed for a reason.
AH. I just can't get enough of God. He is blowing me away and rocking my world and knocking my socks off. He's given me a hunger for His word and a fire for His people. I'm learning about my calling. I have been anointed by Jesus! & I'm so excited to see all that He continues to do in my heart and life this year. "He who promised is FAITHFUL!" He is faithful to complete the good work He began in me and my life, and that alone is cause to rejoice.
waiting & seeking & tasting of His goodness & seeing crazy things happen in my life.
it's a really cool place and I'm just blown away by all that God has done in my heart.
praise Jesus for who He is! grateful for this season of life that I'm in.
& at the same time, I'm surrendering other dreams and finding myself content to put them away, simply because I'm not ready for them yet. and I recognize that. a lot of what I wanted to do this year, back when I was dreaming about 2013 in july of 2012, I now see that it isn't the right place for me to be at. the doors that God closed are closed because I'm not at a place where I would get the most out of them. simply put, some things I wanted to do, I'm content to wait for God's timing with them, because I see that now isn't the right time.
realizing that it's not the right time and being content with that is something I've struggled with for so long. I'm not a patient person (but praise God that He's working in me!). but now, I feel so at peace. I'm content. I know that God has good things coming and some things are for this season and others for another. which is fine by me -- in fact, it's great & wonderful & the best because I trust God and His timing. I know He has the best for me and has an abundance of blessings and good things for my life. learning to be grateful for this season here and to understand that some doors are closed for a reason.
AH. I just can't get enough of God. He is blowing me away and rocking my world and knocking my socks off. He's given me a hunger for His word and a fire for His people. I'm learning about my calling. I have been anointed by Jesus! & I'm so excited to see all that He continues to do in my heart and life this year. "He who promised is FAITHFUL!" He is faithful to complete the good work He began in me and my life, and that alone is cause to rejoice.
waiting & seeking & tasting of His goodness & seeing crazy things happen in my life.
it's a really cool place and I'm just blown away by all that God has done in my heart.
praise Jesus for who He is! grateful for this season of life that I'm in.
A future in God.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
“So roll up your sleeves, put your mind in gear, be totally ready to receive the gift that’s coming when Jesus arrives. Don’t lazily slip back into those old grooves of evil, doing just what you feel like doing. You didn’t know any better then; you do now. As obedient children, let yourselves be pulled into a way of life shaped by God’s life, a life energetic and blazing with holiness. God said, “I am holy; you be holy.” - 1 Peter 1:13 ( MSG )
on the giving of grace and names that are our own.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
and isn't it funny that what names us is often the thing we struggle with most? threaded in strands of gold and what I pretend is glitter but is just twine, my name means grace. grace, palms open and head up in ways that you remember to breathe. like the sky is for stars and rain tastes better than sun on my skin, we are called to live in grace and yet I trip and stumble and end up in puddles of saltwater painted black with the thickness of stars. I always wanted to walk the ocean side and write my name in the shoreline with sea foam but I ended up with seaweed clutched hard in my hands. I could never find a way to skip rocks so I threw stones into the the deep and they sunk to the bottom with a thud like the last word I never had.
grace. to give grace. to not only others, but myself.
grace for the days spent on the couch, cough drops in hand and cups of lukewarm water, teabags marking rings on the bottom, like freckles painting my face. grace for the times I've cried and compared myself in the mirror, "it isn't enough," but what is enough isn't me and never was and will be (in my weakness, He is perfect strength). grace for the times I've slept in too late and walked through the days with sleep in my eyes like a catalogue of the dreams I wanted to hang onto just a little longer. grace for the long nights working with only the dull glow of my screen to keep me up, a pandora station playing the strains of love songs and goodbyes wrapped together with the sound of banjos.
grace for the empty sketchbooks I couldn't bear to finish and the cakes that turned out flat and the stories I tried not to write but found myself penciling in graphite on napkins holding crumbs from that one pastry I loved and ordered everytime I bought coffee like I was pretending I was in a big city and not this small town. to be truthful, me and my red lipstick stick out like a sore thumb in this farmers country but I can't bear to give up the early mornings with the fields outside burnt into the sky, mornings painted the color of autumn. and so there is grace for not loving the cities, for loving the quiet of the country. there is grace that is gold and richer than the hay bales stacked to keep out the coming frost that says here.
we walk, head up and eyes open but not seeing, in heels that fit too small, holding onto our ideas of what should be and who we could be. bagels are carbs and I'll take my coffee black, in the city that I never wanted to live, because that's how we run through our days of life, chasing other people's dreams and dropping stones into sea foam painted green like the sky. I was never good at acrylics but I have a drawer full of watercolor paints that were gifts when I dreamed of being nothing more than an artist. paint stains on your shirt are frowned on and my fingerprints always left smudges of blue or red or green because the colors I dabbed onto brushes always found my fingers, so I washed my hands and put away canvases and pretended to love what everyone else liked.
and there is grace for that. grace for the days spent pretending to be someone you're not, but sooner or later the mask slips and it was only paper-maiche that never truly dried. I'll pull the tearing paper from my freckles and throw off my heels and run barefoot, because there's nothing sweeter than the feel of fresh earth and grass underfoot, and there's nothing wrong with food and who cares about the city lights when you have the stars in the sky, like a patchwork quilt poked with fairy lights. I wrote my name in the dirt with a twig and somehow, found that grace isn't just in giving, but it's in being, and that there is a beauty to being who I am.
I ate fresh raspberries and held grace in open palms and realized that to give grace, I have to start with me.
some personal thoughts and rambly prose from being sick.
there is grace even in these moments.
learning to see it and to give it and to live it.
grace. to give grace. to not only others, but myself.
grace for the days spent on the couch, cough drops in hand and cups of lukewarm water, teabags marking rings on the bottom, like freckles painting my face. grace for the times I've cried and compared myself in the mirror, "it isn't enough," but what is enough isn't me and never was and will be (in my weakness, He is perfect strength). grace for the times I've slept in too late and walked through the days with sleep in my eyes like a catalogue of the dreams I wanted to hang onto just a little longer. grace for the long nights working with only the dull glow of my screen to keep me up, a pandora station playing the strains of love songs and goodbyes wrapped together with the sound of banjos.
grace for the empty sketchbooks I couldn't bear to finish and the cakes that turned out flat and the stories I tried not to write but found myself penciling in graphite on napkins holding crumbs from that one pastry I loved and ordered everytime I bought coffee like I was pretending I was in a big city and not this small town. to be truthful, me and my red lipstick stick out like a sore thumb in this farmers country but I can't bear to give up the early mornings with the fields outside burnt into the sky, mornings painted the color of autumn. and so there is grace for not loving the cities, for loving the quiet of the country. there is grace that is gold and richer than the hay bales stacked to keep out the coming frost that says here.
we walk, head up and eyes open but not seeing, in heels that fit too small, holding onto our ideas of what should be and who we could be. bagels are carbs and I'll take my coffee black, in the city that I never wanted to live, because that's how we run through our days of life, chasing other people's dreams and dropping stones into sea foam painted green like the sky. I was never good at acrylics but I have a drawer full of watercolor paints that were gifts when I dreamed of being nothing more than an artist. paint stains on your shirt are frowned on and my fingerprints always left smudges of blue or red or green because the colors I dabbed onto brushes always found my fingers, so I washed my hands and put away canvases and pretended to love what everyone else liked.
and there is grace for that. grace for the days spent pretending to be someone you're not, but sooner or later the mask slips and it was only paper-maiche that never truly dried. I'll pull the tearing paper from my freckles and throw off my heels and run barefoot, because there's nothing sweeter than the feel of fresh earth and grass underfoot, and there's nothing wrong with food and who cares about the city lights when you have the stars in the sky, like a patchwork quilt poked with fairy lights. I wrote my name in the dirt with a twig and somehow, found that grace isn't just in giving, but it's in being, and that there is a beauty to being who I am.
I ate fresh raspberries and held grace in open palms and realized that to give grace, I have to start with me.
some personal thoughts and rambly prose from being sick.
there is grace even in these moments.
learning to see it and to give it and to live it.
things I'm grateful for
Monday, December 31, 2012
because now, more than ever, I need this list
chamomile tea with honey
dutch baby pancakes in the oven
classical music on pandora
our nice new TV to watch movies on
sweet packages from wonderful friends in the mail
being able to clean (after weeks on the couch, it was wonderful)
the beauty of Chloe's new kitchen aid on the counter
candles flickering like Christmas on the ledge
our Christmas tree trunks on the table, all the way back to 2006
watching silly and wonderful chick flicks with chloe and grace yesterday (& quoting almost every line)
that samuel is NOT in the hospital for something celiac disease related
chloe being able to rest up and do fun things at grandma's
encouraging emails and messages (I can't tell you how much they bless me)
thinking about next year
The Message Bible (& the Bible in general)
grace
Jesus
heartbreak and grief (because it makes you stronger, helps to shape who you are. and in my weakness, He is perfect strength)
joy
playing Just Dance 4 with Grace and Chloe (& looking like idiots while dancing, no doubt)
warm sweatshirts
a clean room
starting resolutions to eat healthy...tomorrow :)
hot water
my moleskine, almost filled
my family
chamomile tea with honey
dutch baby pancakes in the oven
classical music on pandora
our nice new TV to watch movies on
sweet packages from wonderful friends in the mail
being able to clean (after weeks on the couch, it was wonderful)
the beauty of Chloe's new kitchen aid on the counter
candles flickering like Christmas on the ledge
our Christmas tree trunks on the table, all the way back to 2006
watching silly and wonderful chick flicks with chloe and grace yesterday (& quoting almost every line)
that samuel is NOT in the hospital for something celiac disease related
chloe being able to rest up and do fun things at grandma's
encouraging emails and messages (I can't tell you how much they bless me)
thinking about next year
The Message Bible (& the Bible in general)
grace
Jesus
heartbreak and grief (because it makes you stronger, helps to shape who you are. and in my weakness, He is perfect strength)
joy
playing Just Dance 4 with Grace and Chloe (& looking like idiots while dancing, no doubt)
warm sweatshirts
a clean room
starting resolutions to eat healthy...tomorrow :)
hot water
my moleskine, almost filled
my family
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