05.12.2017, 21:18:45

thoughts on “control”:

i hold it tightly, i do. i repeat a rhetoric of “i’m not enough, i’m not doing enough, i’m not smart or productive enough; i can’t handle enough…”

sunday brought me to my knees in holy anger and disappointment (and a not-so-holy stubbornness that roared its teeth too, at Leo of all people. what a man.) a conflict of emotions, where civilians would’ve gotten hurt had not the only tangible civil thing been my heart being sown out of its old pieces.

sometimes, i learn that we, in our most gentlest concern, lightly take parts of our hearts with the heaviest weight– we think them whole, redeemed. and we stitch them into the fabric of our messy heart, but the attack was waiting to happen; the arteries were clogged with sorrow weren’t they? God saw the ragged pores, how badly we needed the oxygen to bring a pumping heart to life, to not take away parts that he breathed in us eons ago– and what does he do? he keeps loving us back together again.

if we let him.

so why and where does “control” come in? I’m very good at giving God juuuust enough that it looks like my whole heart, but he and i both know it isn’t. i could fool anyone, even Leo maybe (at this point, maybe not – he knows me better than I do sometimes. relationships are magic, healing + terrifying). but i position myself with just enough surrender and mix in the honest humility and neediness– but i hold back. on what?

on fully trusting. or even trusting at all– that God doesn’t need my hands to do his brilliant work in my life. that he’s bigger and more capable than I am. that my striving, my abilities and my talents– as good as they are– they close the space for Love to thread its needle.

so i start small, over again:

i whispered up to heaven as i spoke with someone who needed my voice to say, “it’s all grace, remember that. it’s not just for those who don’t know grace, but it’s for you too.” funny, isn’t it? how we often speak truth to ourselves inadvertently.

i lose myself and find myself in writing. i go months, years even, without finding treasures buried deep. how eccentric and odd it is to find yourself in a moment, in a ripple that once held a hurricane.

i whisper, lord, i’ve done my part. i choose to be here, now; to be present and be a strong post– i know you come through, so do only what you do.

an hour or two later, while i swam to awaken these bones and muscles to fresh resurrecting, that which i couldn’t do– was done.

yes, smile.
the grace is for you too.


25.11.2017, 15:15:22

“He sets the lonely in family” has been ringing in my head on repeat today. this simple psalm, so simple. but it has so much weight.

I realize even the word “family” can be triggering for some. it can signal pounds of hurt and heaving that was once so fresh. i get that– i do.

but I’m also realizing how much small words, strung together, can usher truth and ‘family’ into a room with such ease. that room being our hearts, and our lives are homes that welcome others in. God whispers to us in these moments, through others whose names we don’t even know, and reaffirms who we are–

“You have such exquisite boldness about you.”

i don’t think we’ll ever truly know the weight our words carry until the other side of heaven’s door.


11.24.2017, 23:37:01

I saw her, hands lifted high, mother by her side. for a split second, I saw the girl, who led crowds of people without doubt in her mind. her fingertips reached the heavens, and her heart opened wide. the girl who once wore blanket scarves on pink pulpits, left-handed mics and wings on either side; who encouraged us to continue to sing, who would openly cry and speak with a voice that heard directly from God’s line

I saw her, today, I did.
just a glimpse– it was when I closed my eyes.
the world melted away, and I knew she will one day be back soon.
I’ll recognize her face, it’ll look almost the same.
maybe a few extra wrinkles and some laugh lines,
but there will be something new– something like never before.


08.11.2017, 18:51:17

i have been breathing in the year twenty-two for four months now. One quarter, light speed. blink. hold it in, puffed cheeks, and breathe out. reminiscing on how much more my life looks how i’ved dreamed it to be: the day to day ho-hum. such a far ways to go – that’s the fun of it, though, isn’t it?

that destinations are moving targets.

01.11.2017, 13:31:49

last night, I was driving north on the 416 highway, a pitch black night contrasted by yellow-hazed lights illuminating dotted lines. I remember exactly where it was- right before the 417 overpass, arching, looming over my head- where I began to speak aloud the revelation that hasn’t ended even long after I fell asleep in a voice I hardly recognized as my own:

“Could it be, that all this time, You’ve been longing with love for us to simply say, ‘thank you, Father’?”

I might write a book about those three, short but powerful words.
I might end up sharing them with the world,
because they’re flipping my world upside down.


26.10.2017, 22:59:30

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I want to go, who I want to be, how I want to be her. I can see her, alive and bright – changing her world around her and being fully here, fully present and fully whole.

her heart sparkles with the brilliance she was originally intended for. fear and pain are not her leaders; rejection and insecurity don’t follow her every step- they can’t keep up. they’re there, sure, that’s life, is it not? but we don’t give time to the things, people or places that don’t deserve our focused attention.

harsh? maybe.

but here’s what I know:
1. the mundane matters
2. we are our own worst enemies
3. presence is sacred
4. yeah, you are enough
5. and you are destined for many great, great things.


13.10.2017, 11:16:09

call out your lies,
create a list,
dump them out:

1. “you don’t matter, now or ever … you know that right?”
2. “nothing you do matters anyway; you’re always lagging behind.”
3. “nobody actually cares; nobody really loves you.”
4. “Oh, you want to be recognized? that’s so selfish.”
5. “you don’t have a legitimate reason to feel what you feel – stop pretending.”

name them,
one by one,
look them in the eyes for what they are: