music is my boyfriend

anywhere i go, there you are

Thursday, June 16, 2016




the wind, it blows, 
and seasons throw
me into age and grace,
light fills the room
in various hues,
and i miss you every day.

the mail, it piles,
my wardrobe styles
both change and stay the same,
the church bell tolls,
the news unfolds,
i miss you every day.

the lines are long,
i love this song,
and then it's overplayed,
movies release,
and roadworks cease,
i miss you every day.

the coffee brews,
alarms are snoozed,
everyone is on their way,
fireworks ablaze,
Happy Holidays, 
and i miss you every day.

memories resonate, 
midnight questions fate
as i solitary lay
in the bed you made
against my gainsay
and i miss you every day.

vibrance will dim,
present will win
over past and faded flames,
eventually,
you'll be over me,


motopony

penny farthing in my ears and in my eyes

Wednesday, February 03, 2016


Hearts are fragile, but they're brave,
All the more because they break,
To risk a love
-well, it would take
A strength so delicate.

Be delicate with me.
Be loved with me.
Be in between the lines
Of recklessness and fear
Where we can trust what's here,
I trust what's here.


It isn't easy to believe
Beginnings ever do not cease,
To let this in,
Allow release,
Is a chance we both must take.

Believe with me.
Be loved with me.
Come live between the lines 
Of past innocence and tears
Where we can disappear
In safe surrender here.

Don't overthink it, love,
There's too much to conceive,
God is in the details
So we don't have to be,
Some things don't need questioned,
Blessing is a mystery,
Is this how it feels
...to know?

Be delicate with me.
Be loved indeed.
Be in between the lines
Where hopes meet peace.
Be strong with me.
Take my hand and see
We're in between the lines
Of recklessness and fear
And we can trust what's here,
      
          I trust what's here. 

alliteration

goodnight sunday

Sunday, January 24, 2016




*press play*




As my simple yet sumptuous Sunday succumbs slowly to the sunset, I sit perched and spying sidelong as my son scampers, soaked, across the sands summoning the waves tenaciously.

I sit in stillness saturating my lungs in salty sea air as satin waters break, shattering relentlessly and riotously against the steadfast stones remorselessly. This senselessly stirs my sentimental heart... I note my satisfaction and appreciate having known joy and peace, even in the face of life's sadnesses and strains, feeling a silent sense of subtle strength.

I observe the satiety of this moment, begging it not to be evanescent, and remember to say with sharpened sincerity, "Thank you, God. Thank you, Saviour." #alliteration #goodnightsunday


1000 words

IF I'M BEING HONEST: The Struggle is Real... and Okay and Necessary

Tuesday, November 17, 2015





My car wouldn't start today...

Today is the one-year anniversary of the move my son and I made to a brand new home last year. I'm happy to say that since we got here, my son has grown in confidence, friendships, and his education. My quirky, little social butterfly never fails to make fast friends. And while he has missed our previous home, he has come into his own here in a way I am infinitely grateful for.

It hasn't been so easy for me. I call myself a 'reformed introvert.' My natural instinct is to pull into myself. But I'm a missionary kid and we were constantly thrown out of our comfort zones, if we even truly had any. I hate those Facebook articles, "10 Things You Need to Know About Dating an Introvert." Introversion isn't a handicap and people don't need to cater to you. What is with this generation's obsession with being labeled and coddled? Be a grown up! Be a functioning member of society, for goodness' sake... I know how to be a grown up societal member. And I know how to overcome my instincts that aren't healthy for me. I've learned to override anxiety and be adaptable. I'm no wilderness warrior, but if you dropped me in the middle of any concrete jungle where I knew no one and didn't speak the language, I'd survive. You'd maybe even find me at some corner cafe laughing with a local as we tried to communicate with hand gestures. God has pushed me to live beyond myself and use those introspective instincts I have to be empathetic; to look up instead of inward and see myself and my struggles in someone else's eyes. It's relieving to find the familiar in foreign faces. If you always focus on how different you are, you'll fail to see the common threads between us all. There's a solidarity and a spiritual unity in all God created. Don't be coddled into missing out on that.

Where I live now is hardly a jungle. Despite the huge dichotomy of wealth and poverty that abounds, it's fair to say this is a land of privilege and convenience. I speak the language and I've got my google maps to help me out when I get lost. I've been to harder places. Sunshine and 24 hour drive-thrus? Please, this is cake.... But if I'm being honest, I've had one of the most difficult and most crushingly lonely years of my entire life.

This time last year, I was getting off a plane with a 10-year-old in tow and a bleeding ulcer in my stomach. It was a fight to get here. It has been a fight to stay here. But I felt pretty directed that God was leading us here so we came in faithfulness. There are a lot of ideas promulgated in church communities that are not only false but damaging. Such as, if you're in the will of the Lord, you get all you need. God provides and He reserves his special blessings for those being the best, little Christians. He protects you from hardship and enemy attacks. The flip-side of that is that if you're struggling, you must be doing something wrong. God provides, so if He hasn't, you've messed something up. Now, sometimes struggle is God's correction trying to push you into something else. But where in the Bible does it say we get an easy ride on the right path? Let's ask the disciples. No wait, we can't, they all died terrible deaths after lives of persecution. Pretty sure it says, "...In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33b) So we're actually guaranteed trouble? Cuz that's life? Hmm... Also, no one earns blessings any better than anyone else. God's grace is free but undeserved by all, even the 'best' Christians. But there's still a stigma with struggle. Is it your fault? Were you irresponsible? Did you pray enough? Did you not really hear from God? What did you do wrong? I think life is never guaranteed to be easy, but I also think that often what's right is most difficult. Sometimes when everything is going wrong, you're actually doing something right that you have to battle your way through in order to develop the strength and have the experiences and times with God you need to have. And if you quit when things get hard, you forfeit reaping the best results in life. Someone once told me, if you're in the midst of an uphill battle, God is bringing you to higher ground. If that's true, then moving here was all kinds of right. Cuz it has been nothing but uphill.

I'm a mother so I'm allowed to bend but not break. I'm not allowed to fall apart. I won't put burdens on my son he's not equipped to handle. I won't let him feel insecurity in me. He needs to know I am his safe place and he can count on me. So never before have I felt the lack of a partner more than this year, someone who could shoulder the burdens with me. Never before has there been such a man-shaped hole in our home as I raise the product of two people becoming one on my own. And that's hard for me to admit. I'm an independent 'woman of the 90s,' dang it! (That phrase meant something good when I was a kid. I don't know anymore what women of 2015 stand for or if I'm always on board with it, so, yea, I'm still a woman of the 90s.) Girl power and all that jazz... Cuz there's also a stigma with admitting you'd like a man. C'mon, girl, have some pride! You don't need a man to complete you! No, I don't. But is there anything wrong with craving the intimacy of a godly relationship? The Lord placed a desire within us for unity and marriage is the closest earthly glimpse we get of the commitment and oneness God wants to have with us. Am I pathetic for wanting that, imperfections and all? Do I need to surrender my girl card or can we just stop making everyone feel like they need to be fully complete on their own in order to be deemed strong and successful? Can we stop promoting unrealistic standards of resilience and fulfillment that make us all feel like quiet failures? No one is actually complete on their own; we weren't made to be. We were made to have community. We were made to contribute into others' lives and the collective world. We were made to be there for each other. Struggle is not only okay, it is guaranteed, it is human. It is sometimes necessary for us to reach out, to reach back, and to realise life is better shared. Fuller shared. More complete ...when shared.

This year has brought me to my knees. As that old Jaci Velasquez song says, "I've learned in laughter or in pain, how to survive: I get on my knees." I think I recently prayed more in one week than I have in some past years. Maybe that confession doesn't make me look good, but we're in the spirit of honesty here, people, check the title. Lol... So, struggle brought me to the feet of the Lord. Struggle has brought me to a place of complete submission in utter need. It has broken me down, chipped away at me in a refining way that sometimes just felt like loss. Felt too far, God. Too far... But I do believe it has brought me to where I need to be, including a place where this independent woman is not afraid to admit I'm not always okay or that I need help. (Like tonight when I was stranded pushing a sofa up 14 steps by myself. My neighbour guys jumped in and did it for me. And I gratefully let them, God bless them! Please don't try to push a sofa up a flight of stairs by yourself- you can't do it.) There is strength in that kind of honesty and there should be no stigma or failure in being lonely, being weak, being in need. There should be unity, solidarity, and empathy.

Today my car wouldn't start. My son needed to get to school and we were stuck in our complex's garage. I could've stressed, but something this year has taught me repeatedly is to BE STILL. This smartphone-fueled society grapples with this notion of simply being still; emptying yourself of all the clutter and leaving room for the right things, the quiet things, to fill you. Be still and know that I am God. The Bible says again and again to not be anxious or fearful. I believe it is actually the most repeated command, but seems to be the least followed as though that much repetition in scripture doesn't mean something. I called our building manager but he's out of town at his father's funeral. So his day was worse than mine. Perspective. Then it dawned on me... Oh yea, I purchased a year's worth of roadside assistance almost a year ago. I haven't needed to use it and kind of forgot. My brain has been a little full recently, forgive me. So I called and waited patiently for the man to arrive. (Turns out, sometimes we do need a man, as long as he's armed with a battery charger. Sorry, ladies...) My son hardly minded missing school so we just took a breath and relaxed realising there was nothing more to be done. When the guy arrived he was a friendly and chatty single father and as he charged my battery, we traded single parenthood war stories. Then, in the most innocent way possible, he gave me his number, told me to let him know how my car was doing later and asked me to promise him that I would stay in touch with him and be honest to let him know if I ever needed help. I started to cry and he hugged me and I thought, my car not starting today was necessary. I bought the dang thing a year ago, it shouldn't be having issues. I should've had a struggle-free morning of driving my son to school on time in an easy, 10-minute commute. Instead, my day was interrupted and delayed. I had to problem solve at 7 a.m. and I'm not a morning person. And I didn't have anyone to call to help me. My closest friend here was already at work half an hour away and if I hadn't bought that assistance which has, until today, been completely unnecessary, I would've been alone and stuck. But I realised that in having my car not work today, I ended up being a little less alone than I would've been had everything gone smoothly. It was right that something went wrong. I was in the right place. And being here... This move... We have been in the right place this year.

This uphill battle has brought me to higher ground. I have a new perspective. It's not easy and it probably won't ever truly be- that's life. I won't say that everything has been tied into some inspirational bow and I feel settled and empowered by all this or anything. I won't even say this experience has made me stronger. In fact, I think in some ways, it has made me weaker but that's okay. I have been allowed to be weak, I have been allowed to be sad or disappointed and decide that my peace and my hope are rooted in something bigger than those feelings, something beyond me- my unity with Christ. My prayer for this next year is that I get more invested in a community here and that I continue to learn to take struggles as they come, not being ashamed of them or ashamed of myself for having them.

Struggle is real, it's okay, and sometimes, it's even necessary. If you're struggling, please let me know. Prayers, like everything else, are better shared.




xo

1000 words

best gift

Tuesday, October 06, 2015




My son had his 11th birthday this past week. Eleven. That's more than a decade. That means my journey of motherhood started almost 12 years ago. In some ways, it feels like no time has passed at all and at the same time, I have been a mother my whole adult life. (Well, there was about a year where I was a legal 'adult' in there, but who really feels like a grown up just because they turned 18 and graduated high school?) So in many ways, this life is all I've ever really known outside of my own childhood. But I can't imagine it any other way and wouldn't want to.

I have reinforced some things with my son so that when he gets old enough to question the circumstances surrounding his conception, the answers will hopefully already be in his heart. They are:

1. He is my favourite thing. And I say 'thing' and he goes, "Mom, I'm not a thing." And I say, "But you're my favourite of all the things! Everything in the world- animal, vegetable, mineral, whatever. You're the best of all." A lot of other things demand my time and attention and I have to prioritise some days. But despite all that, he's my favourite and I want him to know that, ultimately, he is my priority when it counts.

2. He is my special boy. I know some parents and non-parents think you shouldn't tell your kids they're special. (Hey, non-parents, no offence- by which I mean, do feel free to be offended since that's what you do to us- but you don't get to formulate die-hard opinions on parenting. You just don't. I'm storing up laughter for the day when you have kids, I truly am.) Oh, shut up with that malarkey... This world will tear these little individuals down enough. Insecurities and self-doubt will creep in and sow enough seeds of uncertainty in their souls. And when that happens, they need a foundation to rest on - one that promoted their self-worth and value. And yes, self-worth and value are the same as believing you're special. It doesn't mean you're better than others; it means you have something unique to offer, because of your individuality and experiences, to the collective contribution of society. And you should strive to find that and cultivate it. You first have to believe it's there in order to do that. It's your job to build your kids up so that by the time the world gets a chance to tear them down, it can only go so far because you have given them a confidence basement, so to speak, that they can't sink below. They don't need to believe you're a part of the crowd that feels the need to take them down a notch. They don't need that to start as soon as possible in their lives from within their own home. So take your hipstery, one-step philosophical nonsense elsewhere. I've been a parent since before we based all of our opinions on facebook/huffpost/buzzfeed 'articles' thinking such self-indulgent, basic, and unfounded diatribes were scripturally profound, and I know better. Maybe someone should tell these codswallop-spouting gurus of our time that they aren't as special as they think they are. But my son is special and if you have a problem with that, I dare you to challenge this Irish mamma and see how that works out for you...

3. I love him most. He is loved by many people and will be loved by many more in his lifetime. But outside of God, no one loves him more than me. No one is more grateful for him than me. I'm not trying to ruin him for the future women in his life. I want him to know that not an ounce of my being would change what I did 12 years ago, because I love him more than life itself, more than myself. So if given the choice between him and me, I would so instinctively choose him that it has never actually been a choice. Never. And as he grows up and moves on to the loves of his life in his own family, there will be a love behind him that wanted him in this world more than anyone and who wants his happiness, joy, and fulfillment- which will include many things beyond me for him. But as for me, he will always be the love of my life with God. And my heart will have room for a husband and another child (i.e. other 'loves of my life'), if that's the way my life goes, without ever diminishing the immensity of my love for him. Mom hearts just grow, Grinch-style...

4. He is the "best gift I ever got." My son was a surprise, that's for sure. I didn't plan for him and one day, he will calculate our ages with better understanding and realise that. Gifts are sometimes unexpected, but they add to your life, they don't take away. Some of the best things are the blessings you didn't count on that take your life in a direction you could have never foreseen. And he IS the greatest blessing. And this direction is one I didn't know I wanted, but have loved far above the ignorant alternative. I always joke that I should get presents on his birthday cuz I did all the work that day! And he protests that that wouldn't be fair, etc, and I'm obviously kidding. But I already got the best gift that day and every day since. And I tell him, "God must love me a lot to give me a gift like you." And I hope those words always resound within him so he knows the life that we've had was not only a blessing from God with His hand prints all over it, but was added to, improved upon- just infinitely better than any other plan or expectation that came before him. 

God must love me a lot...


Happy Birthday, mon coeur.


honey mustard

blue jeans and honey mustard

Monday, May 25, 2015


You were such a pretty little lie
That crept right into my life,
With your shy'n'sly smile,
And those hazel, wide eyes,
Had me feelin' just like
Nothing could ever go wrong,
Our love felt like a country song,
A happy, little country song.



Let's get in your car
And drive down memory lane,
It won't be the same-
This I know.
But just give me honey kisses
And fireflies
One last time
Before I let you go,

With your pretty little lies
That crept right into my life,
With your shy'n'sly smile,
And those hazel, wide eyes
You had me feelin' just like
Together we were too strong,
Our love felt like a country song,
A happy, little country song,
A happy, little country song,

It didn't last long,
But it was our song...
(And it was honey mustard.)


God

Congratulations, Nick

Wednesday, April 08, 2015


Today a dear friend passed away after a valiant battle in the war that is ALS. I was introduced to this man as Dr. Miller, my high school principal. But he became just "Nick" throughout the years as he was a worship leader at my church, the father of a close friend, and generally an edifying person in my life. 

My senior year of high school was a disaster for me. A complication with my long-standing heart condition rendered me bed-ridden for the first 10 weeks of my final semester. My attendance was sporadic the remaining two months of school as I recovered. If it weren't for my amazing teachers and principal, I would not have graduated. No amount of hard work on my part could have accomplished all I needed to do had they not banded together for me. I consider that success a team effort and a testament to my school. As I carefully climbed the platform steps on graduation day (I'd only been able to walk steadily at this point for just over a month), I approached Dr. Miller beaming with pride, excitement, and relief. He clasped my hand and said, "Congratulations! I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it."

About a year and a half after that precious moment, I found out I was pregnant. Though I will never refer to my son as an accident, the circumstances were definitely unplanned and were a shock to many, including myself. Firstly, I was a bright and intelligent young woman and didn't exactly think it was a wise career move to get pregnant in my freshman year of architecture school. Secondly, my doctors had warned me my heart might not survive pregnancy and delivery. But most importantly, I am and always have been a Christ-follower and this situation was a moral lapse for me. I never turned my back on God or anything, but we all deal with different struggles and weaknesses and the relationship I had been in for half my life was mine. No one was more disappointed in my trespasses than me, though some people surely competed.

I had been an active church member and youth mentor. So I wrote home to several friends and teens that were still in my youth group to break the news myself. I asked for understanding and forgiveness and was surprised to receive it from some people I didn't anticipate. I was also surprised when the one person I especially expected grace from declared how "devastated" they were, and how I had shaken their own beliefs by this immense disappointment in someone they so looked up to. Whew... I can see this with better perspective now, but at the time, it was a knife to the heart.

I returned to my home country from studying overseas to have the baby there. I was just in time to attend graduation at my old high school two full years after my own moment of pride. I questioned going but had friends graduating whom I wanted to support. So I approached the gymnasium in the parking lot, adjusting my maternity dress over my uncomfortable 6-month belly and contemplating my swollen ankles and serious case of pregnancy face (yes, that is a real thing!). I didn't feel very confident, but just as I was about to walk in anyway, an old teacher saw me. She greeted me cheerily and seeing my tattle-tale belly, asked when I'd gotten married with a quizzical expression, no doubt related to my young age. I sheepishly said I was not married to which she replied curtly, "Oh," followed pass-remarkably by, "How disappointing, I expected better from you," before she swiftly left me in the dust without another word. I removed the knife from my heart once more and proceeded to the ceremony with my head held high in feigned pride, where I was met with further looks, questions, and whispers.

I finally mustered up the courage to attend my home church soon after. I had grown up in this church and it was filled with 'aunts' and 'uncles' who knew me better than my own blood relations. Ideally, Christians are meant to understand the need for grace and forgiveness better than most, having humbly received it themselves. And I'm proud to say that many in my community showed me unconditional love and support that went above and beyond. But I had had enough rejection and judgement to make me wary of entering that building, unsure of what reaction awaited me. As my belly led the way, I waddled in, alone and preparing myself for faces of shock and confusion. But instead, the first faces I ran smack-dab into that morning were those of Nick and his wife, Alison. They approached me with their arms around each other with huge, effortless smiles. Beaming with joy, they welcomed me into their embrace and proceeded to say the one thing I had yet to hear throughout this entire experience, "Congratulations!" Then they said they were so excited for me, that they were sure my little one would be a real blessing, and that they knew I'd make a good mother, clasping my hands with a squeeze for encouragement. What's more, there wasn't a hint of pity, insincerity, or disappointment on their faces. Wow...

See, I was well aware of the connotations of my situation. I was aware that my future had been altered; that difficulty lay ahead. I was aware that this was unexpected for my character and that my life would forever face consequences. But I was also aware that not all of those consequences would be bad. One major thing, in fact, would be splendid: my son. I was already aware that I loved him and I was acutely aware that the mourning period for a life that never would be needed to be over to accommodate the life that lay ahead, both for him and for me. People expected me to keep reliving my story and my shame. They wanted my repeated explanations, justifications, and apologies every time it was fresh for them. But I had lived every minute of it and was prepared to be proud of myself again. I couldn't linger in the loss and grief. I was prepared to welcome my son knowing that my shame was not his, my mistakes were not his, and he was and always would be my first-born child. He deserved to be celebrated.

What Nick and Alison did was see past the tragedy and the circumstances to the core truth- that this was a blessing. This was a life. This was a celebration. They congratulated me first on the proudest feat of my life: motherhood. And that simple word spoken over me made me feel less alone and gave me the strength to go take my seat that day with pride that was not feigned, but flowed from deep within and would continue to do so.

The last time I saw Nick was a few years later when I was the mother of a beautiful toddler. It was to say goodbye when he and his wife moved from my home country onto another adventure. I hugged him and said I would miss them. And he looked down on me with that towering, paternal height and in his classic, nonchalant way said, "You're going to be fine. You're a smart girl, you've handled yourself well. I know you're going to do great, do you know that?" I think I answered with some joke to relieve the moment because, for me, there was nothing nonchalant about that kind of affirmation. And I couldn't quite express to him how much it meant to me.

Now, here we are in tragic circumstances where loss and grief abounds. And this is indeed a tragedy that I will not undermine as I sit here with tears and sadness as my company. But I will do what he did for me and see past the circumstances to the core truth and say:

Congratulations, Nick! You have run the race and received the prize for a life well-led, and a legacy left behind. You now get to be with the Lord, whom you served well, and live in freedom and health. I celebrate your life and the effect it had on me and mine. Thank you for the love and grace and example. And know that, until we meet again, we will live out our days on earth with a little added strength because you were here. 

...And I bet you're gracing the heavenly hosts with your mad guitar skills. We love you. We miss you. And we will remember you. Thank you.

fauntella crow

nul points

Thursday, November 13, 2014



It was almost good;
It was almost right,
We almost tried
With all our might,
Almost gave your all,
And I fought the good fight,
But "almost" amounted
To nothing tonight.

There is no winning;
We both lost,
Traipsing through a blinding fog,
Where we can't see,
And we can't be
What the other needs.

No one wins here,
This place is loss,
Yea, no one wins here,
There's only cost,
No one wins here,
No one wins tonight.

Love is a team,
So victory
Depends on playing
Selflessly,
You betrayed your own
In losing me,
We share the tragic custody.

There is no winning;
We both lost,
Covered in the fallout of
Two broken hearts;
Two ended starts;
One future torn apart. 

No one wins here,
This place is loss,
Yea, no one wins here,
There's only cost,
No one wins here,
No one wins tonight.

Should we start again?
Go on and say, babe,
"It will be different,"
Maybe we can make
Fresh new mistakes
Where no one wins.
There's no your side nor mine-
There's only dashed dreams,
And lost time,
So try to one-up me,
I'm wise enough to see
That no one wins.

We made our choices, babe,
So, why don't you place that blame
...right here.

'Cause no one wins here,
This place is loss,
Yea, no one wins here,
There's only cost,
No one wins here,
No one wins tonight.

We made our choices -
We made our choice...
Tonight.




(probably the most cheaply made music video ever but a great song with good lyrics)

audrey assad

good to me

Saturday, March 22, 2014



Something hurt me yesterday. I saw something and it stung. I've been trying to heal from something recently and this made me feel as though no time had passed at all; like I was stuck, breathless and trapped in the pain with nowhere to turn. As though maybe I always would be. Audrey Assad's album Fortunate Fall has really been ministering to me this week and in the song Good to Me, this one line says, "When I'm bowed down with sorrow, I will lift up your name." And that has been my 'mantra' the past month: no matter what, just praise, just lift up your head to the Lord and focus on Him. When you're hurt and confused and too much of the wrong thing is flooding in around you, just fill every available space with what you know- in your head- to be right. Pray when it hurts, listen to worship music when you can't deal with silence. It won't necessarily work right away, but it'll keep you moving in the right direction at a time when it's far too easy to slide into the wrong direction. It's like exercise; it will hurt at first, but eventually you'll realise you're fitter. But if you spend that same time not exercising, you'll just get more out of shape and farther from where you want to be. I quoted in my senior yearbook the song, "You're my glory and the lifter of my head." Whenever we sang that in church growing up, I imagined kneeling down with my head bowed in sorrow, as Audrey sings, and God gently bending down towards me, placing His finger under my chin and tenderly tilting it towards Him as though to say, "Here I am, child, look at me." 

It never ceases to amaze me how God comes through. I'm not sure if that's good or not. I mean, He always proves himself, when am I gonna stop being shocked? I think what gets me is when He's there for me in subtle ways, in ways He doesn't need to be. He created me, loves me, provides for me- does He have to care about the little things? No. And yet, He does. His eye is on the sparrow, how much more is it on me? I'm supposed to be His servant, and yet He serves me. 

There's a verse that says, "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." (James 4:8a) And there was a time when I thought that verse was backwards. Why should I draw near to You first? Sometimes I need You to come to me. But I was convicted by the realisation that that verse should really say, "Draw near to Him and you'll find, He was right beside you the whole time." Because God has made ALL the first moves. Please don't forget that. He made us, He loves us, He provides for us, He sent his son to die for us, and then He even granted us free will so that loving Him back would be our choice. He's already near, you just need to lift your head and see it; see past the mess that you're putting in His way. 

I saw this photo on pinterest recently that said, "Head up, princess, your tiara is falling," and it made me smile. When I was pregnant and feeling shameful walking back into my home church for the first time, with a 6-month belly leading the way in, one of the first worship songs sung that day said, "I'll trade these ashes in for beauty and wear forgiveness like a crown." And I felt God in that moment bend down, tilt my head towards Him and say, "You can't wear a crown with your head bowed in shame." It was such a little moment, fleeting almost in its fragility. And yet, He spoke to me, subtly, in a time when I truly needed something gentle and reassuring to quietly pierce through the chaos, guilt, and anguish. He's my glory and the lifter of my head. He's God and yet He's there for me. Wow... It's crazy how some things come full circle; how God teaches us the same lessons over and over at different points in our lives to reinforce their truth. God has given me a crown. I'm a daughter of the King; a princess. So, head up, princess.

So, as I drove home from work yesterday, I flooded myself with worship music once more just to fill the space with as much of the right thing as I could. And I talked to Him saying, "God, it just hurts. It hurts too much, I can't not see it, I don't know what to do." And I just felt Him say, "Then don't look at it, look at me. Lift your eyes up to the mountains where your help comes from. I'm right here. I love you and what you lost is not as good as what you have in me. You still have me, just keep looking at me." Because when you look down, you see the problem and the mess. It's all in your face and it's all you can see, the negativity, the wrong stuff. It narrows your scope. But God gives us the chance to be lifted out of it, to give the burden to Him to carry so we can just gaze upon His glory. Amazing... So I cried the whole way home focused on the beautiful sunshine framing the clouds on that blessedly Spring-ish day placing the image of His love in front of the painful one. And the Maker of all things ministered to me and reminded me of His love for me all night. You're just too good to me, God. You're my glory. You're the lifter of my head. You are good to me.

Joel 2:25, "I will give you back what is lost/ I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten..."

Psalm 34:18, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."



God

Oh for grace to trust Him more

Sunday, February 16, 2014


in good times and bad,
i will praise You,
when happy or sad,
You're the one who
provides my every need
and reminds me to believe
You're in control, 
and there's no impossible.


God

breaking bad

Thursday, August 22, 2013


Let me start by saying I've never even seen the show this post is named after. I'm not going to, have no idea what it's about, don't want to. Leave me alone cult followers- I waste enough time on silly TV. 

Let me say secondly that it's somewhat of a miracle that I'm even writing this right now. I have had two weeks quite literally from hell. It started with sudden and unprovoked hearing loss in one ear that led to medical treatments to preserve the nerves in my ear. These treatments made me so sick I could hardly function, but the doctor basically said to me as I sat in a pathetic state one day, "Do you want to hear out of this ear or stop the treatments?" So I continued like a miserable sop in zombie-mode for a week. I finished the IV treatments and was supposed to come off the medication gradually through pills but I soon noticed I could hardly see. My eyesight is terrible anyway, but even with glasses, I noticed most things beyond a couple feet away were a total blur. The doctor took me off the medication right away. There were too many side-effects: tachycardia, nausea, dizziness, headaches, weakness, fatigue, and now blurred vision. Two days after being off the medication, I was getting worse. I've hardly been able to stomach most foods the past two weeks but yesterday, I was throwing up, unable to see the face of someone who came to the front door when I was alone in the house, and, for some bizarre reason, my whole body felt beat up. Not achy. Literally beat up, as though I'd actually been punched in the arm, ribs, neck. We called another doctor and my blood pressure's a little low, my heart's a little fast, and all of this is above and beyond a normal reaction to this medication.

I had a terrible night's sleep last night. I had nightmares that my blood was burning only to wake up writhing in pain up and down my arms and through my veins. No position was comfortable and after the past 10 days, I'm completely exhausted. I came downstairs and my mom put her hand on me to pray and I cried in pain. A simple touch on my skin was more than I could handle. I felt like I was falling apart.

I feel like this summer has been extremely difficult. The spring wasn't easy either... In fact, the past two years have been a little rough. And the few years before that, and... now that I think about it, stuff just seems to get a little worse and worse with time. Don't get me wrong, I'm immensely blessed and my problems pale in comparison to others'. But I often live thinking, "It could always be worse," and sometimes, it's just plain fair to say, "Yea, but it could be better." There has always been one thing or another that makes me physically and emotionally tired in life and as I sink to new levels of fatigue and exhaustion that seem to persist, I notice myself accepting these as new normals, until I can't remember what it felt like to feel better. But as I approach 30, I think, "There can't be too many more levels to sink to or I'm gonna miss my life by simply being tired." No lectures on health regimes or exercise or going to doctors, please, I've tried it all. Don't insult me. I go through seasons of trying to find a new solution, followed by a frustrated season of giving myself a break from the disappointments. I don't know what else to do. 

I think what's most disappointing is when I see myself not being... myself. I'm strong. I'm determined. I'm kick-butt, for goodness' sake! And I sat this morning whimpering in pain saying, "God, I just can't. I'm so tired, I don't know how to pray or what to do. Please just help me, I'm a mess." I don't like being a mess. I can handle being tired and sick and disappointed but I don't like feeling out of control. I don't like not being able to rally. But I feel broken down and though I know the enemy has to be getting pleasure out of my breakdown, I just haven't known how to overcome. My rallying resources are simply depleted, which, as a mother, I have a hard time forgiving in myself. But is it okay after 15 years of one consecutive struggle after another to just be a bit messy?

And as I sat thinking how not myself I felt this morning, I imagined that the enemy was happy. Whatever I've always felt destined to accomplish is surely being put off as I stumble through a haze of small struggles that add up. I'm not living in victory and strength. Broken times will happen, but there's got to be a way to break into God's strength and to use the situation for His glory and my benefit, no matter how completely spent I feel... maybe even all the more because of how absolutely spent I feel. 

So, I rounded up some prayer, I read Psalms 91, that claims God is my refuge, then Romans 8, which says the Spirit prays for you when you don't know how. I've been listening to joyfmonline.org and every song and message today has felt like a love song to me from God.


Then they read out this passage: 

2 Corinthians 12:7-10 (The Message)

"Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn't get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan's angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn't think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,

My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size- abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."

And I sat and thought, I hardly have the strength to pray anything, but if all I can say is one thing, it's that your grace is enough. Breakdowns along the way will happen in life but you can either break bad(ly) - sorry, can't make the grammatical error even for the sake of a pun - or break well. You can break into God, be weak in His strength and be GLAD for the gift. I can still hardly see across the room, I still feel weak and drained, my head is a little spinny right now, and a shower is going to be an accomplishment today. I'm a little broken, maybe a lot so, and this blog and these realisations are not the conclusion to this struggle. But I plan to let Christ take over, so the weaker I get, the stronger I become and to always be able to have enough strength to proclaim His grace is enough. That's all.

heartsmile

heart smile 8

Sunday, January 06, 2013


my son has gotten out of sleep routine the past couple weeks over the holiday break. we stayed up watching Christmas movies in bed and had activities so he got to stay up late (partially so mom could sleep in!). with school starting tomorrow, it was important he go to sleep so i stayed with him tonight as he drifted off. i often test if he's asleep by whispering really quietly, "i love you." because, if he's even partially awake, he'll whisper back, "i love you, too." we also like to play the 'i love you, i love you more, no i love you more, no i love you most' game. so tonight, fairly certain he was asleep, i kissed him and barely uttered, "i love you." to which a tiny voice responded, "i love you, too"...and then a few seconds later, unprompted and after a sleepy little sigh, he continued, "i love you most."

one of those moments that makes every other moment in life totally worth it.

and, for the record, baby: no, i love you most.


resolutions

resolutions 2013

Tuesday, January 01, 2013


My resolutions are normally a little vague, though they do have meaning for me. Some years, I keep them really well and others, not so much. This year, I decided to be specific. So, without further ado:



It's not that I don't read the Bible but I always start these one- or two-year Bible reading plans and manage to get behind. By the end of the year, I haven't completed it at all and I've resorted to my regular scripture meandering. This year, I will do it!


This is self-explanatory. You can always pray more and I will.


I've actually done a decent job of this in 2012. 
2013 will be even better!


I got a little too busy this past year and too in office-home routine. 
I need more breaks and to check in with friends more.


I seem to have fallen out with my boyfriend recently,
and it's totally my fault. 
I'm gonna fix it.


This seems like it'd be no challenge for me since I often enjoy books more than people but this year I seemed to start books over and over without finishing them and then life got busy. 
So, on top of the two books a month I will read with my son, I will also read two books for myself; 
ideally one novel, one spiritual/parenting/applicable, etc.


Finish the painting you started IN THE SUMMER!
Plus do at least two more that you've already thought out.
And just draw more- your hands are forgetting how to do it!


Even if you're blocked on the stories you want to write, just write, write anything. 
Journal, write letters to God, whatever, get it out, get it on paper, be in the practice of writing. 

Two previous resolutions:


Before I know it, my son will be too cool for school with me. This is always a resolution.



I wrote this last year and didn't do a very good job of it.
It's too important not to.

Happy 2013! May it be your best year yet!

1000 words

factoring in the flaws and being faithful in the face of failure (i like alliteration)

Monday, December 31, 2012



We're still a little under the weather from this virus that has been kicking everyone in the vicinity's butt. But even if we weren't, I would still be spending this new year's eve night with the love of my life: 

My little bunny.


Not sure this year was everything it should've been but it has been a lesson in human flaws. God made us imperfect. He made us to need and it would be a lonely world if we tried to stand on our own so maybe it's good that we just can't. A few conversations I've had recently have come around to this: Yes, God expects obedience of us and yes, he expects us to do our best. But when we don't, when we have moments of being the humans He made us and we fall short, do we destroy His plan for us? Do we get a secondary plan, the runner-up plan? Is His perfect plan only for those who obey Him perfectly? Because that sounds perfectly impossible... not to mention cruel, which God is not. So, maybe, since God transcends time and knows when we're going to screw up before we do, perhaps... just perhaps, He not only uses our mistakes; maybe He factors them into the plan. I can't imagine God having had a more perfect plan for me than to have my son, but it took sin to get there. He knew I would fall and He didn't want me to lose out on what He had for me because of my lapse in judgement. So He used it to bless me and show me how much He loves me. And, as He always does, He made things better when they seemed worse. An old Stacie Orrico song says, "Will my weakness for an hour make me suffer for a lifetime?" And as a friend asked me that same question recently, I've decided the answer is a definite 'no'. Not that we should take advantage of that and just go around making mistakes willy-nilly. (Where does 'willy-nilly' even come from, btw??) But, when we're trying and we have a lapse, maybe, beyond the more obvious concept of redemption, we're still in the perfect plan. Maybe God's just waiting for us to give it to Him so He can help pick us up and use that lesson for something necessary. Maybe what we view as deviation is needed to actually be on track. I think His grace is bigger than we could ever imagine. And I also think we like to kick ourselves a lot more than He would want us to. In His infinite wisdom, I believe He weaves in our flaws and, yes, our mistakes and utter failures, to this complex tapestry He makes of our lives. So, this year wasn't perfect. I don't have some inspirational discourse on how amazing this past year was and how I can see how it all fell into place miraculously. But I do have faith that this imperfect year can be made perfect in God's strength and that nothing is ever wasted when you give it to the Lord. I believe I'm in my PERFECT plan and I'm looking forward to seeing where 2013 will take this little family as I attempt to be faithful... in my abundantly flawed way.

Bonne Année, tout le monde! I love you, and God does, too.

Mwah! (There's your midnight kiss in case you didn't get one;)


1000 words

heartsmile 7

Friday, December 21, 2012

"I'm gonna make Santa a present because I don't think anyone's 
ever been generous enough to give him a gift!" -my son

And then, after a long, stressful day, I think... Maybe, just maybe, I'm doing something right here.


if we ever needed You, Lord, it's now

Monday, December 17, 2012

Twenty children and six adults were gunned down in a horrific act of evil last Friday. I'm old enough to remember Columbine clearly. I will always remember names like Cassie Bernall and Rachel Scott. I will always remember the moment when school shootings became a trend- that shift between the unthinkable to the real, the present, the inerasable. Much like being old enough to remember airport security pre-9/11, it's like living on the other side of a veil that you can't pass through again. These people, these children full of hatred and consumed by anger to the point of evil, changed our world, shook our foundations of what is sacred, and robbed our safety. But you know what? I don't remember the shooters' names. And I'm determined to forget Friday's murderer's name and forever remember at least a few of those precious little souls and brave teachers who didn't deserve what happened. I fully believe that the media glorifies these terrible acts impregnating these already unstable and perhaps marginalised people with this idea of going down in history. Much like some people prefer negative attention to no attention, it's better to be remembered for something terrible than not be remembered at all, right? Wrong. There's nothing worse than a legacy of hatred and destruction. No one says, "That Hitler guy did some terrible stuff but he sure knew how to command an army... impressive." He's one of the worst things that happened to this world. Try to leave this earth with people wishing you weren't gone, not wishing you hadn't been here at all.

So, I won't remember you. I feel sorry for your mother, I feel sorry for the circumstances that brought you to this point. I feel sorry for the fact that you killed yourself and are now a lost soul. Your life counted. God loves you, you were a beautiful baby 20 years ago like everyone else. But when you made the choice to take out your pain on the most innocent of creatures... when you allowed your dysfunction to turn you into a monster, a villain of fairy-tale proportions, you lost my sympathy. My sympathy is with those children who spent their last moments terrified in a way that makes it hard for me to breathe just thinking about it. My sympathy is with Victoria who hid her students and then stood there, facing him, knowing he would kill her but using her last breaths to make sure he didn't look for those kids in that classroom. I'm not the mother of any of those kids who hid in those closets and cupboards, miraculously quiet enough, waiting to be rescued as they heard the gunshots that took their beloved teacher's life. But on behalf of all mothers, I want to thank her. 

As a mother, I can hardly watch the news. No details or elaborated stories are going to make this any more real to me. I fully understand the extent of this loss. I don't have to know every victim's story to know that each and every one of them was the absolute world to the people who loved them. I don't have to watch hours of updates to grasp that this is the epitome of unfair, unjust. Instead, I just go hold my son, who's too young to get that all I want him to do is stop squirming for a minute and let me hold him for the rest of his life! I brought him to school this morning, fairly confident that the school he attends is safe, fairly confident that I will see him this afternoon the way I see him every afternoon. I'm a mum so I already pray over him every day. I already hug him every moment like it could be the last, I already tell him I love him like it's the most important thing he needs to learn and remember in life. I'm proud to say I never really take him for granted. He's too much of a blessing for me to just get used to having. But we all get into the monotony of routine and busyness. Sometimes discipline is more important in the moment than a cuddle; sometimes harsh words are needed above encouragement. I believe correction and discipline ARE love and are necessary. But something like this happens and you want to never get mad at them again. You want to make them smile all day long, take them out of school, quit your job, and just spend all day every day baking and crafting and snuggling. And there's that tiny voice inside every time you walk away from them, every time you drive away from them... The voice that says the things I won't even say out loud right now. The fear, the what if... And it gets a little louder at times like this. You're scared to even acknowledge it, you're scared to give it power... but it already has power, doesn't it?

I like to think that I'm a pray-er. Every Christian is supposed to be, but I like to think I take prayer more seriously than most. But it's a time thing, isn't it? I can talk to God as I go through my day, I can bring Him along into my schedule, and I'm not saying that isn't good because any opportunity to share with God is good. But do I take enough time to come to Him or do I just ask Him to come to me when it's convenient for me? And for a single, working mother, when is anything ever convenient? I get into bed exhausted and always manage to waken more exhausted on the other side of night. I'm starting to think sleep is a conspiracy that actually drains you because that's my experience. I pray at night, I pray in the morning but this morning... this first school day after another veil was dropped on this world, I woke up when my alarm, that I deliberately set early so I can snooze it, went off. I rolled over, wide awake to where my son was sleeping next to me, I held him- as he batted me away because he's a violent sleeper- and I prayed. Prayed with fear. Fear of what I can't control, fear of not being a good enough pray-er to have my prayers honored, fear of not trusting God enough to take from me the burden of unknown consequence that I insist on carrying. Being a mother is like being a risk-assessor. If you've ever watched Along Came Polly, Ben Stiller's character is my brain, only my brain is 10x worse and it's running on mum fuel, which is apparently inexhaustible so you can imagine how out of hand my thought processes can get. 

Do I trust God with my kid or do I only trust Him with me? Do I believe that God loves my son more than I do or do I just think that's what I'm supposed to believe? Did God love those children as much as he loves mine? Because I want Him to love mine more, protect mine more, shield us better, honor my prayers above others. I'm being brutally honest here and saying what we're all feeling, so if you're judging my spirituality right now, you're clearly not a parent. But I am a parent and what I need to do is show my son how to be, how to feel, how to live. I need to be an example so what's my example? Living in fear? Living to make it from sunrise to sunset safely? I need to teach him to be cautious, I need to teach him to have the healthy fear that stops you from doing stupid things. But will I let these monsters- real monsters, not the kind you promise your children aren't under the bed, the potent kind that actually exist way beyond the safety and comfort of bed- rob my joy, rob my security ...rob my faith? Will I let them win? Or will I stand up for the good, teaching my son to be good, to be a light in this world corrupted by darkness? Will I show him how to be courageous and defend what's right even when cowards are threatening you, bullying you, hurting you? Is it more important to stay intact physically or to thrive in character and spirit? I know the right answers here. Yes, there are a million things to be afraid of in this world. Yes, any day could be our last. Any moment could bring total decimation to our worldview, security, and what we hold dear. But it seems like evil is winning. And I won't let it win with me, with my house. So, we will go to school every day, and I will pray like our lives depend on it, because they do. You can't afford not to pray. It's your seat belt- it would be careless not to use it. 

Lord God, if we've ever needed you, it's now. If we ever needed to spend more time on our knees than on our phones and computers, it's now. If we ever needed to take this world back and say, "No! Enough is enough. We won't let society degrade and accept it as inevitable. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. We will be compassionate, we will raise healthy children who spread love and hope and joy faster and more deeply than the wildfires of hatred and anger. We will be the difference needed, we will trust in God with reckless abandon and we will spend every day of our lives renewing the light that is so easily extinguished and we will change this world. You tore the ultimate veil, You can tear these ones, too." ...it's now. 

Proverbs 3:5-6 
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him and he will make your paths straight."

Psalm 4:8
"I will lay down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord make me dwell in safety."

Philippians 4:7
"Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus."


May the peace of the Lord be with these families as they try to heal from this tragedy.