Showing posts with label Papa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Papa. Show all posts

Friday, December 5, 2014

in the corner


My new favorite spot is in the corner of my bedroom. I have a little yellow chair with long windows on either side so the clouded sunlight can peek in over my shoulder. I have a new pine scented candle that I take deep breaths of because it reminds me of tall trees and pine needle covered dirt. Here I sit, to read, to write, & to listen. I'm being reminded of the importance of presence and being present and stillness. Topics that circle on the blogs I read and in the conversations I have, yet something I keep as an nice idea. Letting it sit on the surface, rather than allowing it to sink deeper than my skin.

But today, I needed to sit. More than I knew. So as Sleeping at Last played, I sat in my new favorite corner - fingers flipping book pages & hand writing story. Then I stumbled across this blog post, and my heart took a big deep breath and exhale. A Whisper came and said, "It's okay to sit. It's here I speak to you. Just come and be and listen."

My prayer & petition for you & I is that we sit. That you find a corner - in the kitchen by the aprons hanging, outside just beyond that tree, in your bedroom in a yellow chair. Wherever it may be, I pray we learn to sit; to soak in the quiet moments, to pour out our desperate thoughts in writing, to eat up the Truth words of a sister's book. We need this. More than we realize.

I dare you to sit today. Let the sun hit your shoulders as your eyes fall on written word, or simply at the floor below you. Listen here for the Whisper in the stillness.

Much love my beautiful friends,
Ky

Sunday, November 16, 2014

an open letter: here we have hope

photocred to http://byemmafaye.com/


"...rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep..." -romans 12:15

Dear friends,

Knowing you has taught me much - much of love, laughter, rest, struggle, authenticity, & trust. I came here unsure about who I would spend my days with, worried about doing life alone. Man did Jesus decide to show off His provision in providing me with you.

As I sat tonight and heard the lines Jesus has been writing in your life lately - I was overcome with this deep feeling of Hope. Hope because I know that You call Him Friend, that you know Him as your Abba Father, and look to Him as Lord of your life. And that all of those titles are true not just in name but in action of who He is. That Savior, that King is pursuing each of you & in this life teaching you what it is to be loved & to love. And as you each face what every day brings, you walk with Him. That is why I have immense Hope as I hear the story He is writing with you.

Over the past months I've had the privilege of reading those lines as I walk alongside you all. I've been absolutely blown away to witness the redemptive, abundant work of the Father in your lives. The refining has been bright & bold for some of you, in others it's been uncomfortable & shaking. No matter the feelings, emotions, circumstances surrounding each - I have seen ashes turned to beauty in each of your lives. I am so grateful to walk on this holy ground, brought to my knees at the redemptive power of our Father as He reveals His plan for your life & leads you in Life Everlasting.

Thank you. Thank you each for simply being - for returning to your Father & reminding me daily that it is only in His arms that we are fully satisfied. Thank you for laughing long & loud & many times without any "good" reason - you've deepened my understanding of Joy Unexplainable. Thank you for listening & speaking Truth to me and those you brush shoulders with everyday - you are a mouthpiece for the Kingdom. Thank you for being real - for sitting in silence, for allowing the tears to fall, for asking the hard questions - you remind of what it is to be human & that we couldn't do this alone.

I love you all. Deep & wide. Thank you for living life with me, for embracing each other's messy, & being the hands & feet of our Friend Jesus. I love reading what He is writing with you, thanks for keeping an open book & letting me read.

Love,
Ky

Friday, October 31, 2014

the good girl


It's the last day of October & I'm not really sure where the last month has gone. Between work, people, life, over-sleeping, stressful situations, late night conversations - it's been a blur. And at the close of this month that I really love, I'm reminded of Grace.

These days have been full of me in the not-so-loveliest of forms. Life got stressful, I got overwhelmed, those around me - well, I'm sorry. These days have made me realize how conditional my love is, how chaotic my feelings can be, and how I'm not very good at this whole life thing. Right in the center of all of it I'm Held by Grace.

I had the opportunity to share my story this week with four people. One dear friend & three girls I care for so very much, sat quietly in the wee hours of the morning. The sun rose outside the window as I spoke. And as I shared, I was reminded. Reminded of the person I have been, but more the Savior He is. I was reminded of the moments where I clung to control in every form, how I micro-managed, strived, worked SO hard. And how at the end of it all, I collapsed. Overcome with the weight of trying to be the good girl. I recalled as I traced over the paths I've walked the last few years the moments that felt like everything I knew was gone. My identity misplaced for so long in so many other things I thought would make me "good enough".

So as I remember this life I've lived and I look at the life I'm living, Hope rises. Because it is not I that Lives, but Christ in me. And as I go through every moment, His grace draws near. When the tears are flowing again, as those hurtful words come from my mouth, when I sit and wonder why & how - it is there that Grace draws near. With gentle eyes and nail-pierced hands He takes my face and turns it back to the Cross, "Remember what I did there. I took it all. Cease your striving. Live life with Me." And we walk on. Every step taken in the Hope of a Resurrected Life, covered in Grace & hand held tight.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

fear


“I’ve been worryin’ that we all, live our lives, in the confines of fear” – Ben Howard, The Fear


I fear getting stuck.

I fear growing closer & the pain of leaving.

I fear not being present.

I fear wasting time.

I fear being foolish.

I fear not truly living.

This is where I am. I don’t really have pretty words to wrap this up, or a ribbon to tie it nicely. This is where I’ve been. The Truth words “perfect love casts out fear” [1 john 4:16] have run across my thoughts daily. I’ve been kicking and screaming, talking and crying, trying to make sense of the emotion and apathy. It feels frantic, chaotic, and really not cool. Don’t get me wrong these days have been laced with lovely – moments spent with sweet souls that remind me to slow and be with them in the present. In between though, there has been a bit of a struggle. Worry will creep up, anxiousness in the middle of my tiny office. And I wonder what I’m doing.

With each of these fears, I can trace back an origin. A place in time, where I was living an antithesis of these statements, and that’s just it – it was then I was living. But by living in fear, I forfeit a life extraordinary. I become stuck & fixated, withdrawn & distant, lazy & anxious; my fears birthing exactly what I feared the conception of. And well, this needs to stop.

Friends, I cannot promise you that I will be the perfect example of this. In fact, I know I will not be a prime example of living a life fearless. But damn, I don’t want to live anything less. I am claiming the Truth “in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” [romans 8:37] Him who loved us with a perfect love that “casts out fear”. So that we could “live a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called” [ephesians 4:1] with “not a spirit of fear, but of power and love and self-control” [2 timothy 1:7] “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba, Father!’” [romans 8:15]

So here’s to crying Abba, Father and sinking in to His embrace as we embrace a life lived fearlessly – the Life He desires, designed, & died for. That’s a life worth living.


*all scripture references from the ESV & I’m sorry if I offended anyone by saying damn.


Monday, September 8, 2014

scarlet thread


You gave me eyes Eternal to see
watching & chasing the faces
committing name to memory

You seek them out
and know them each by name
You invite me to witness what Your hands have made

opening a book to a page called "today"

You read me the words:
names, schools, activities & grades

You whisper me the feelings:
anxiety, excitement, apprehension, & joy

Your hands stretch across the pages
touching each stain & crease
the ink blot where there was struggle
and the prose that tell of their history

"each one has a story
a book in which I write.

some have taken the pen to write what they please
some grown so weary their words run together

yet I am writing too.

every page that is turned I see & know
as they join with me I begin to reveal,
uncover & expose the Story of them & Me.

so as you flip through the pages
of the books being written,
remember I am there.

I am the Scarlet Thread that binds the pages together.
taking what was lost & sewing it in to My Redemption Story."

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

tomorrow

Tomorrow I go back.
Back to that not so little college town.
For less than 72 hours I will step back in to the sights & sounds of life as I knew it for the past two years. As I look forward to this and also look back on these past few months, these past few years, I see His heart drawing me nearer.
Those first few days & weeks (and months if we're being honest) in my "new adventure" last year were some of the hardest & sweetest - terrifying & beautiful. I remember going on walks down newfound trails, ones I now fondly refer to as the Wood through the Wardrobe. I remember walking and talking to my Friend and the tears welling up and stopping and sitting because I simply had no words, nothing to express. Yet I knew, in those moments. I was understood. Beyond my own comprehension, I was seen & heard & loved. And so that's what I clung to.

As the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months. Joy overwhelmed as laughter erupted on some days. Others - exhaustion flooded in as tears poured over. And He sat with me. In both those moments, He was present, near, more near than I could ever fathom.

There were days where answers seemed so clear, as if He was handing me a window through which I could see dreams & desires He had placed within me. His whispers awakening parts of me that always were, but hadn't been revealed to my child eyes.

And then there were weeks. Weeks when I asked, why? And for the first time I was okay with myself for asking that question. Because for so long it seemed untouchable. As if I wouldn't be a good Christian girl anymore if I questioned. But I was weary, and when you're that tired and spent, you ask questions and sometimes say a bad word because that's being the most honest with yourself. And He already knew it all, every question that would float to the surface, that would poke through the mask I had worn for so long. Again I was known. In the midst of the oh-not-so-lovely, He came, lovely as He always is. He wrapped His arms around and loved me still.

So as I drive those familiar roads tomorrow, most likely with a similar soundtrack to those college town days, I will rest in the Truth. The Truth that while I question, rejoice, cry, laugh, swear, dance - He draws near, He sees, He knows, & He loves me still. Oh what joy, my Friend that walks with me in Narnia, knows me deep and loves me deeper still.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

sorting out


I'm still sorting this out. That I am in one place, but pieces of my heart are elsewhere. In a vibrant college town, scattered in the hill country, big building cities, and over great bodies of water. And I'm here. Moving is one of the hardest things I have done and will do. Sometimes it makes me mad. Because I want so badly to be somewhere else. Not at all because where I am now is awful. My here and now is quite lovely and bright and exciting and changing.

Yet there are people. That's it, the people - friends, family, sisters, brothers, kindreds. They are what make me wish I could hop in a DeLorean and go back. Better than that, I wish I could just teleport. Because I want to see and hear and hug and laugh with them, now.

I miss the smell of cigar smoke on the front porch and the crash of water on skin jumping in to the river. Running down the dunes, kicking sand in to the air and scraping ice off of my windshield with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Even more I miss the sound of our three voices singing in to the night, the way she interrupted an entire coffee shop with her elated laughter, chasing them through corn fields at night, and sharing so many meals with them.

All of them. Whether plopped on blankets in the living room, the tall table in the kitchen, over queso at 3am, or making eggs & bacon at midnight. The breaking of bread (or chips) brought us together. On Sunday nights, Thursday adventures, or after closing HBCB and froyo runs. For that I am thankful.

We lived wide, loved deep, and laughed long. If my adventures weren't so wonderful, my memories not so strong, my heart not so tangled in others, it simply would have been wasted. It would have been a life less lived. Mediocre.

So, while I get annoyed when the tears sting my eyes as that song comes on or when I see the picture and wish it was me sitting and having coffee with them - I have to remember. Remember, that there I Lived. And that Jesus gives Life, because He wants it to be lived. And just as He called me then, teaching me of adventure and discovery and deep joy & relationship, He calls me now. Lessons will continue and new ones will come. Always though, will He be my Guide. The perfect Partner, Leader, and Friend - calling me deeper in to Life as He gives it - raw, hopeful, and full of adventure.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

slowing



We sat and talked. He whispered "slowing".
He gave me that word for this hue of life.
As I come back & step in to new roles.
Slowing.

Trying. Doing. Working. Creating.
Those are words I'm so much more comfortable with.
I'm good at them.
And I think that's the problem.

The world doesn't need me to try more, do more, work more, create more.
I don't need to do those things.
But why?
Because it's me.

If I desire to abide. To rest in Him, the Vine.
How is my doing, trying, creating, working going to produce anything?
It's me. My effort, my sweat, my stress, my tears, my frustration.
I don't think the world needs or wants more of that.

We're broken. We know frustration and pain and hurt and stress.
In fact, we hate it. We shirk it off.
Yet we lay in it.
We attempt to put down roots there, on our own.

We toil & dig to grow.
By doing and working.
Our strength.
No fruit.

The world doesn't need that.
It doesn't need more people trying to be robots.
It doesn't need more production.
We need hope, healing, to be held.

I need hope, healing, to be held.
So this is where slowing comes.
It's invitation is beautiful, simple, warm.
Yet, it scares me.

I fear the opinion of man.
The question of
What are you accomplishing?
Why aren't you doing this good thing?

My answer.
With shaking voice & trembling hands.
I don't know.
But, He has called me here.

To this abode of Slowing
I have been invited in
to a place of Hope & Healing
Where I am eternally Held.

Friday, August 1, 2014

be fearlessly authentic




speak the words, cry the tears, allow the emotion
you are human, made of dust

don't fear judgement if you speak
don't fear weakness if you cry
don't fear foolishness if you react

you were not made to "operate"
you are not held together by bolts & screws
you are made of much more
made of flesh & blood & bone

but more - you were redeemed by Flesh & Blood
Sacrifice was made, so you wouldn't have to pay
so you don't owe anything, anyone

you live because of His breath in your lungs
those lungs that burn as tears stream and the words tumble forth
those lungs that gasp when the laughter comes loud & long & deep

now, be fearless my friend.
your debt was paid & there is not a single person you owe

so live loud, authentic, messy lives
because there - right in the middle of that
is where flesh & blood meets Flesh & Blood

and beauty is made from ash
ash collected from the altar
because of the Sacrifice

now LIVE. fearless. authentic.
unto Him. with Him. IN HIM.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

becoming



"beauty in the becoming"

Those words came one night and I wrote them down.

Here I am, and I don't know what I'm doing. There are days that begin easy and end hard, and days that begin cast in cement (aka really hard) and stay that way. Call me Han Solo, because on those days I just feel like I'm stuck hanging on the wall of an alien gangster's club. Pretty icky.

I don't know what to write about all of it. I've been trying to formulate words to describe "lately" but nothing captures it all. To describe these past few months as "beauty in the becoming" doesn't really seem accurate. It's been pretty ugly. I've been made more aware of my flesh and I'm not really a fan. Coming to realize that I have life less figured out than I thought.

I desperately would like to see where the "beauty" comes in to the picture. Maybe my definition of beauty is being redefined. Taken from it's shallow, vain resting place to be put in the fire to be purified.

*Note: Fire burns, oh and it hurts like Sheol

This might be where things come together. Before I moved back, back to the place I once called home - Jesus whispered of the trail ahead. He breathed "healing". More and more as I dwell on healing and what that means, I'm reminded of a burn victim. The process of healing for a burn victim begins in tearing away at the dead flesh left mauled by the flames. Not once, but twice, and three times, and more.

The healing that is desired for the burns to heal, involves tearing away at everything visible. It begins with digging deep. And it hurts. But that is the only way to heal.

I'm not saying Jesus dragged me to this place to throw me in a fire and watch the flames lick my flesh. I've done a pretty good job at dancing with the fire myself. He comes in as the blisters form, skin touched by the fire of this fallen place. Whether I jumped too close or someone else yanked me over.

He lays me down. The great Physician takes my hand and says, "This is going to hurt, but feeling is only for the moment. The healing I desire for you requires this and you can trust me. My hopes for your life exceed any single anticipation you have. The work I do here will last, it is not simply a salve that sits on the skin. My hands will dig deep in to the wounds and I will bring beauty where there once was just ash."

Beauty in the becoming.
Healing.
Refinement.
by His hands.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

let's be real: cuss words & Jesus with a megaphone


These last few weeks I've said more cuss words than I care to count, ate more bowls of ice cream than I care to admit, and watched an innumerable amount of Office episodes. That feels like a fair summary; however, there's a lot more stewing beneath my dairy stained pj's (and I don't just mean a hungry tummy).

You see, God does this funny thing when we ask Him for something.....He answers.

It was brought to my attention over coffee one evening that so often we ask God for something or to teach us something without really anticipating or wanting to be taught. Like patience for example, we assume that having to stand in one line for twenty minutes was our lesson. BAM! Patience on lock.
Thank you Jesus for teaching me patience. "Woohoo!" for you, you stood in a line with twenty-eight other people and you didn't even think a bad word or tap your foot with impatience.

Oh boy, I don't think that's it.

This year I've been learning. ALOT. (Grammar not included because I can't remember if there's suppose to be a space between "a" and "lot" in this situation.) Conversations with Jesus have included lots of talk about adventure. Ironically, one of my favorite quotes about adventure is from the documentary 180 South and says, "...adventure is when everything goes wrong. That's when the adventure starts."

I'm rethinking my favorite quotes list.....

It's funny, as I've been walking along and the trail has gotten harder, the brush thicker, and a few branches have snapped back in my face - it's harder to hear. Man am I glad that Jesus has a megaphone because even as I've whirled in the white noise of lies, He comes in loud and clear.

"YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN ALONE!" - Jesus

That one came today. It came blasting through the overhead speaker at the pity party I was throwing for myself that DJ Devil so kindly offered to provide free entertainment for.

"I am enough. I am rest." again He speaks and I am reminded that is journey is not for comfort. It's not so I'll be able to stand in a long line with a genuine smile on my face. This adventure of learning in the "going wrong" is that I may know more fully the depth of love of my Father. His desire is not for disaster to overcome, but that I may be reminded that He overcame. In Him I am embraced by grace - the arms of a Savior that has walked in my place.

I'm still tripping my way down this trail. Some days I just really wish I drove a car that never had problems and that I didn't have to worry about a check passing the bank. In those moments still, He is present. As I kick and scream and cry, He brushes me off and picks me up and takes my hand as we continue on. On this road called "Adventure" where everything may go wrong, Jesus carries a megaphone and reminds me I am never alone.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

thank you


Transition mode: initiated.
One job over, the other beginning.
Four hour commute.
Packing boxes.

This has been the bare bones of life the last two weeks. The flesh being all the bittersweet moments in between. I can't say enough to thank the friends and family that have walked the last few weeks with me, and really this entire year been faithful to walk beside and point me back to Him. I am humbled to tears by their grace and generosity. I've been a messy sight to behold on some days, yet these brothers and sisters have taken me as I've come. Tear stains and upset words, exhausted body and overwhelmed brain. They were there. Whether present in the moment or a skype/phone call away. (Good thing we have a flat rate phone bill, right mama? ;)  )

So this is me saying thank you. I know it really isn't much, but I know I really can't repay y'all all that you have showered upon me! Right there is one way you've pointed me back to Jesus and shown me Him again and again. Grace extended - not for gain.

Thank you for putting flesh-action to the Gospel. You are all incredible!!

Sunday, April 27, 2014

through His lens - wrap up

Tying this series up with a pretty, little bow. Lots of lessons learned in the choosing. Choosing to see with Eyes Eternal. Not once, but over and over and over again. I'm beginning to tap my foot along with this rhythm, the beat of blessing. Starting to singing along with the melody, voice following notes up & down. As the song grows louder, or as my ears grow deaf, filled with the noise of this temporary, broken home we call earth - He sings it still. Over me, around me, filling every crevasse of my day with Sound Divine. This soundtrack being played over the hours as I choose to see through His lens, with kaleidoscope eyes. The broken glass - spinning, as the lyrics of Love tumble over my shoulders -embracing.













Monday, April 21, 2014

what I really need now: anapauō



After reading this article by Tsh on Storyline Blog all that is within me is nodding and whispering a tired "yes".

These weeks and days have been running long in the most beautiful, encouraging, hard, exhausting way. The way only life being lived deep and wide can. Yet, there is still a need for Rest.

Here comes my continual struggle to say no and to slow. You see, Leslie Knope and I are kindred spirits when it comes to our love of lists. Not just that, but quality time with people truly makes my heart do happy cartwheels (the only kind of cartwheel any part of me is capable of).

I'm right in the middle of this struggle. This isn't a "Oh look, I've figured it out!" situation, or a "Wow, so good to have walked through and learned that. Won't do that again!" scenario. Nope. I'm here and I don't entirely know the "way out" or the lesson to be learned. I'm fighting the pull to try to figure it out.

Right here and right now, what is needed is Rest. A nap, a meal, a snuggly blanket, and quiet moments in the arms of the Ever-Present Father. Not another crossed-off item on my list or post written about what it means to truly Rest, because to be honest - I don't know.

Maybe you're here too, which would be kinda nice because then I wouldn't be alone. (Selfish, I know. Oops.) And I say these next words while fighting every pro-active-can-do-get-er-done bone in my body:

Let's do NOTHING. Let's take some time, away and Rest. And let's not try to figure this all out.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

through His lens week 5 & 6

Honesty.
Here we go.

These past two weeks have been all over. Days long and full. Some ended in exhaustion & tears, others robust with laughter & singing. Nights that run late and mornings that come early. Stories told and listened to, from those long-known & those now-knowing. Walks in silence and picnics in the dark. Prayers whispered for strength and praises for Freedom being lived.

These days have been beautiful. They've been hard.
Above all, they have been FULL. Abundantly so.

Thanks be to the God that is here;
in His Fullness, He is ever near.
In His Abundance, He is creating,
Beauty from this mess.

                               


  













Tuesday, March 25, 2014

stitches of an adventure heart



You take my adventure heart
for miles & miles of wild rides
through open skies & hidden towns
You delight in seeing my heart come alive

My inmost tangles are known to You
each woven thread & knot undone
Divine Hands of Yours tug gently
winding Our thread together more tightly

No thought unseen or desire uncharted
each stitched with care on my fabric heart
calendar numbers passing fast & slow
not a single hour left unbuttoned

seams never left untouched
Your presence woven in with each
never a point, a place without
Your Holy Stitch of grace complete

Dark can never cloak Your presence
nor light outshine Your Love Divine
each waking, waning, wishful moment
hemmed in by Your heart so kind

Your fingers trace the roads like knotted stitches
grace unravels as every mile is sewn
adventure hearts knitted together,
it is here that I am known.


*inspired by Psalm 139

Saturday, March 8, 2014

through His lens - week 1

I'm thankful Jesus is as big a fan as I am of car rides. While sometimes I don't look forward to those long four hour drives home, He always comes along for the ride. He comes along for those long hauls and for the little runs from home to store, down the street, and He sits in the parking lot as conversation ebbs and flows between sisters. The clock telling our eyes to close for sleep, but our dreamer hearts awakened by the Truth spoken in to the dark. Here we spoke of Him, with Him.

Jordan is my fellow dreamer. We sit for hours in coffee shops, plan trips we may never take, laugh deep and long, talk for too long, listen even more, and seek to know the heart of our Artist Father. Seven days ago, today; perhaps six by the hour of the night, we sat and spoke of a lens we desired. A view of the world we wanted so badly to adopt. Admitting our own selfish eyes that focused so often on the mishap and bland, we knew there was something more. So we sat in quiet, and He spoke. Calling us to see through His lens.

Here is the start of that. We decided a picture a day or two perhaps, ushered first by the prayer to have His eyes to see. See the beauty all around - the simple, exquisite, deep, distracting, hopeful, desperate, unnoticed, and bright. A necessary honesty - I struggled with this. Though so often capturing an image is worship, the recognition of Beauty Divine. As the week flooded in, my attentions were pulled and pushed in every direction. I am humbled, and thankful. He is not finished with me yet. As I fight for the decision to see beauty in mess and joy in all circumstances, He is riding with me. Over every road, every mile, beside and inside - He is calling me deeper, and He is beckoning me to look at life through His lens.
























Sunday, March 2, 2014

hues & shades



Hours pass that turn to days and years and decades.
They call them seasons.
Placing labels upon each as it comes:
"childhood", "young married", "adolescence", "single", "married", "retired"

Each sounding like the classrooms in a large church.
For each stage there is a class.
Somewhere to belong with those walking in that same Season.
Fellowship which is an oft brushed by gift.

Enter.....Texas.
Texas does not follow pattern in season.
One week - three seasons, wardrobes, menus.
Seeing breath in cold on Monday - losing breath in heat on Thursday.

Watch out.....hyperbolic metaphor.
Life is more like Texas than the days I spent in the predictable North.
At least you knew just like it's shape, mittens were a staple from November to April.
Suffocation from stifling heat may occur if no weather check is made in the Lone Star State.

So here I go.
Canvas stretched, now leaning on easel.
Paintbrush lifted.
Hues & Shades enter.

Boldly I have come to say:
Life is not Seasons.
While largely it may appear so
I'm choosing macro over panoramic as my lens.

Experience teaches
though I, young in days and years
I have begun to see
the reality of this metaphor come to be.

Hues of learning & Shades of life
conversations ebb and flow with peers
lessons in Love Divine and experience earthly
one which I humbly bask in the reality of, the latter a hue not on life's canvas presently

Shades of loss
a life lived deep and wide
those once held close are gone
the breadth and width I desire, the reality of memories being all that is left, I don't yet know

As I walk and see
these Hues & Shades on each canvas
the painting speaks of A Life
one lived with One that is also Artist

an Artist that boasts of chaos
Divinely organized messes
fractals that will only be beheld in their full Glory
on the other side of Eternity

as He paints
lifting each brush
delight in eyes that have seen all Hues & Shades
bringing each to canvas in perfect time

the One not bound by hands on clock
reminds us of the hope of Eternity
of the Truth there isn't a rush
and He never has to run to catch up.

Ever-present fellow Journey-man
traveling beside with canvas, easel, & brushes packed
brushing in the hue of the moment
of the lesson in Love to be revealed

We live in the Hues & Shades of life
painted by the Master of True Life itself
brushed on canvas thick with Love Real
and delight in bringing revelation of the already present realities of Eternity




Monday, February 24, 2014

I am learning


I am learning. This is truly becoming my daily mantra. It breathes deep of grace, exhales growth - all founded in Truth.

And it isn't glamorous. It's an uphill, sweaty, sore, hot, exhausting climb. The steps of learning are marked by hurt sometimes; other times my own pride. Each step though is not taken singularly.
There is an Us to this journey. That, I am learning too. What is Union? What is this Divine Union with the Spirit, that daily is the reality, but so often is not what I choose to live in the reality of?

"Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we also live with Him." [Romans 6:5-11]
What does that look like? What does a Life marked by Union exhale?
Daily I am learning this. Baby steps, that's where I'm at for sure. I'm beginning to delve deep in to the Truth-reality of Union with the Creator of the universe.

And that's beautiful.
In a violently intimate, gently exposing way. Because that is the way of my Savior, the Truth spoken by His lips "sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart" [Hebrews 4:11-13]

So here's to Union and the Journey, to having questions and the exposing Truth that gently answers.

Happy Monday, fellow adventurers!

Monday, January 13, 2014

where I was: the pause


I'm fumbling. Dominoes. Two trails. I'm stuck here and I don't know what to do.
The black game pieces are stacked and when one falls, it begins.

But it hasn't begun. Here is the pause.
I'm searching for an occupation, so I thrust my hands in front of me, grabbing on to anything I can. Anything I can hold and arrange, organize and fix.

I recognize it this time. Recognition seems to be where I've been lately. It's a hard step to climb.
No longer deaf to Truth, but still pulled by the lie.

Caught in the middle. Two trails. Dominoes.
One trail offers peace, the other false promises of control. One set of dominoes is fully lit, and glints with tempting dots of knowledge. The other set is cloaked in embracing darkness.
Darkness that promises light, and a light there is - only to see the next piece. The trail hidden from sight.

"Not by sight, My dear."
My view jerked away from the fully-lit trail. The pridefully lit winding path masking it's reality. The reality it is a spiral. Never taking you anywhere, only bringing you back to where you were.
A promise of consistency. A prison of complacency.

"I know the Way."
His voice calls me nearer to the hidden path.
"Trust Me, and I will lead you."
Each step closer leaves footprints of fear shrinking. Drawing nearer the pad of my foot leaves treads of peace.

"I have called you here for a Reason."
I now look in to His eyes, the light in them illuminating the very place we now stand together.
"I will light the Way. You need only to look to Me."

Here now I stand. My eyes locked on His. He knows the Way.
I need not fear.