bad at Grace

We sat sipping the foam off the top of our lattes. Sunk in to the outdoor couch with the sounds of the highway behind us. Our conversation ebbed and flowed - recalling events, swapping stories, and catching up on the last year. Yet as we spoke, verbally traversing over the months passed, there was a thread that wound itself through.

Grace.

The more we spoke of it, the more we realized we still didn't grasp it. This idea, concept, word - Grace - was not something understood. You can't read about it, making lists of its attributes to fully grasp it. You cannot be "good" at Grace, learning it's patterns and tendencies. It is not something to be studied and observed.

Grace cannot be taught, it can only be learned. And the learning is the hardest part. Why? Because in order to learn Grace you have to be a bad student. In order to feel the healing touch and experience the removal of shame that is Grace - you have to fail. When there is dirt in your teeth and your knees are bruised; when your heart aches like a body fatigued and eyes burn red. Grace arrives. As circumstances crash down like buildings razed by bombs, and thoughts swirl with dust of debris - Grace enters.

So let out that sigh of relief, because this is a subject it is good to be bad in. Fear of failure only inhibits growth. Out of struggle comes growth. In struggle there is Grace. So go ahead and fall. Embrace the ground for it is your classroom. As you gaze upward you will see and know the touch of Grace.

adventure

There is this great appeal to adventure and travel. The thrill of new places, different cities everyday. The rush of adrenaline as you roll the window down and breathe deep the fresh air blowing in across the bay. Your eyes scan and jump to take it all in - the height of unknown buildings, the flashes of faces, the random reflection of your own face in a shop window. So strange to see you in this place. A reflection of your well-known features taking residence upon window after window. Your glance to see self in this new place as fleeting as your time spent there.

It is swift - travel. The one constant is the unknown road ahead. Yet, that is the draw. The lure that glistens just ahead, that pulls you deeper in. You may plan the steps you take, but inevitably there is a change. You move towards it though, with fervor, accepting challenge. A new opportunity with each day to stretch your view of the world, this life you live, and your role in it.

Road blocks blink bright with exciting possibility. Even the most stressful situation is entered in to with resolve - because it's in the name of "Adventure" that you push on. For when you arrive home again, you will carry with you stories. Titles written in the tear of a shirt, the lost pillow, the journals filled.

This is adventure - that you may accept what comes on the road ahead as part of the story.

Here is where I stand with a question, a quiet revelation of sorts. You see apart from a week long road trip across the Pacific Northwest and a few days housesitting - for the last 365 days I have lived in the same house. Walls plastered with maps, outward pictures of my wandering mind. Tall windows that let in the most baptizing white light after a long rain. Messy corners that are evidence of long weeks and lack of desire to clean. As I sit here in this space, this room I've lived in for the last year I'm challenged and questioning.

I did not expect all that came along the road of this last year. While setting remained the same, aside from a few room re-arrangements, detours and unexpected road signs mark the journey. New faces have come in and out, jobs have changed more than I care to count, my role in many ventures has taken different form.

Then the sudden jerk of the steering wheel and my heart flutters and someone new comes in - a boy I didn't anticipate. It's so much easier to travel alone you know. You can hide in the four walls of the same room you've lived in for the last year and not be seen. But now, he's here and his arms are open wide, yet I'm feeling broken. Days before he asks me to walk with him a while - my family changes. My heart lurches at the crash of circumstance. Suddenly the reality of years gone by comes back and collides with ideals held. I feel like I crumple under the pressure, the change of course. A snow storm blows in and the road is icy and unsure, my sight inhibited by gracefully falling flakes of perfect white.

All I do is scream - "I didn't ask for all of this." I was content with how things were, moving steadily along. Yet here as I look back I am reminded of adventure - my cry for which was loud and long the months leading up to my move back to this place. Adventure is full of detours, unexpected turns, road blocks...but I didn't ask for this. That's all I could think.

Does anyone? Do you leave your home and all you know, cross your fingers and pray for a ten hour layover? Do you drive miles and miles to hike only to find out the park is closed for several days? No, of course not. You don't seek out change, it just happens. Change is Adventure's closest friend - the one that shows up at the party late, but with a great story and extra ice.

I didn't ask for this. I don't think she did either. She didn't ask for the change to bring loss. He didn't ask for change to bring stress and anxiety. But here we are - with the results of change ahead of us, cones guiding the way of the detour.

This is Adventure. Life lived full, entered in to deeply. While I ache to think of some of the roads turned down, I rejoice for where they have led. While I have not traveled miles away, to see my face reflect off the surface of some distant lake - I can look in the mirror in the small bathroom at home and see a girl that has journeyed and is changed.

And this journey is far from complete. Sitting now I can see evidence of road maps that will lead to new chapters never before entered in to, with that boy that I was once scared to share my heart with. While wedding invitation designs lay scattered on my bed, the same light floods in the tall windows. Rushing over with it's rays of baptism, renewing my weary soul. I still have just as many questions as before, my mind will run away with lies on occasion when change enters in, but I am learning to accept the choice of Adventure. To accept what comes on the road ahead as part of the story. Leaning in to each turn and holding tightly to the hand of the Guide.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!!

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.

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.

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.

                               

  

a practice in embracing

Here I am, practicing.
Slightly begrudgingly, but gasping
to accept the Grace He is so abundant to provide.

And with that, my weekly Through His Lens post will come....sometime this week. I'm not even going to say tomorrow, because ya know, I don't know what will happen tomorrow.

Till then, my prayer-thought is for you to experience grace. In a weight lifted by a friend, a moment of quiet that just stands still, or in the middle of the everyday running. A quiet that overwhelms the soul, reminding it of the depths with which it is loved. Above and beyond. Within and without.

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!

in the rain

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”

 • Matthew 7:24-27

I want to be so grounded on Truth alone that when the rain comes I get to take the hand of my Beloved and dance in joy. Secure in His loving grip, without fear of the winds blowing through. Abiding in His strength and security that never fails, not depending upon my own sand-strength that washes away at the first gust of wind. I want to dance. Dance with Him in the rain, in the beautiful, kaleidoscopic, stormy vibrant mess of Abundant Adventure-Life.

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.

for freedom

I'm here to say - I don't know.
The road before me is veiled to my eyes, but not His.
No longer will I hand you the acceptable answer.
His ways are higher, they are greater, they are beyond understanding.
I refuse to affix blocks in a pattern that conform to comfort.
I'm here to admit I've tried.
My attempts are akin to describing a panoramic view,
the words to justify a scene are like a child's attempt to draw a sunset.
Really any personal effort to capture His essence is like a crayon-drawn sinking sun.

Beyond the chapter He's authored as of late,
the stories He scripted up to these moments -
seem sweetly unattainable, yet they abide in the ink of every line.
His goodness and care laces the black liquid.
He wrote to tell me before this began that He would take care.
Before He called out for me to jump,
arms of ever-comfort were wrapped around.
In action was shown the depth of His love, as on the day the curtain tore.

The eternal love writing He continues to read to me.
Each vowel, consonant, letter an invitation to once again step to the ledge.
And the accompanying embrace always the love-action that shouts -
"For freedom, I came. So I may offer it to you. Now, let's jump."

step Two

We speak of being called to step out on the water.
That first step....
          it's frightening, exhilarating, freeing, scary, crazy, and joyful.

We often stop the story there,
at Step One.

It's funny, now I find myself at Step TWO.
People don't talk as much about this step.

We speak so often of the beginning - the call. And consequently, the end - the conclusion.
What about the in-between?
The in-between. That's where we live.
The in-between is step Two, step three, step four, step five....

I'm reminded of Abraham. [Genesis 22]  Abba calling him to sacrifice Isaac.

Abraham's step Two was rising the morning after the Call.
Step Three was waking Isaac.
Step Four chopping the wood - every fall of the ax, every grunt, every wipe of sleeve against brow -
leaning in to Abba.

Every step is a choice of dependence.

It's here I find myself.
Step one - the Call.
Step Two - the Unknown.

Dependence is being shaped. A heart for adventure being fostered.
This Guide of mine, Abba, He sure knows how to make His children enter in to Life.
I'm learning that's the invitation every day.

"I invite you in to a life ABUNDANT." [John 10:10]

starting fresh

      Gratitude for

          a house full for Sunday night dinner

          waking in the dark to greet the day

          days spent with faces new and hearts of gold

          mugs on walls, window washing, & yirgacheffe black

          midday naps and hours that run long

          night walks & rooftop concerts

          Old Pine by Ben Howard

          celebration of all sorts