Life Lately.

Life lately has been crazy.

This season is my own.

I know who I am, am realizing who I’ve been, and planning who I want to be. Planning not discovering.

I am not the victim of my life. My life is the Lord’s and He has written me a plan of celebration. My life is a story of triumph. My life is a song of beauty. My life is the battle cry of grace. My life is a painting of love. 

What future do I have to fear when my very existence is claimed in the promise of a perfect plan. When I know that each morning I wake, I rise to only become a more skillful warrior and tender hearted vessel by the day’s close. 

What road do I have to fear when each path I’ve tread has only proven the faithfulness of my God. 

None. The victory of this story does not depend on the work of my hands but of the work that that has already been finished. The victory belongs to the Lord. In knowing Him who loves me, I am already more than a conquerer. 

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I was blessed with immeasurable strength and encouragement unexpectedly last night and headed home with high spirits and a peaceful heart. As we were driving I realized I needed to grab a couple things at the store and asked to pass by Walmart on the way. It was late and back in the parking lot while loading up the car I realized my phone was still on silent and looked down to see if I’d missed anything in the last few hours.

Waiting for me was a solitary text that stopped my heart dead in its tracks. 

In that moment it was as if I was thrashed by 30 rounds. Stunned, with bloody chest and glassy eyes, falling to my knees in the dust. 

Anger, hurt, fire, tenderness, frustration, weakness, and fight welled up inside of me.

Silent with head sunken in my right hand and eyes out the window, I made it home and to my room. 

I closed the door behind me and sat at my desk. And sat. And sat. 

It was a picture of a girl I wouldn’t have ever been able to be mere months ago.

Not in tears, or in words, or in passion, or in rush to my phone did I react. But in quiet. Stillness.  

Instead of frantic I was of sound mind. While initially blown way off course by unexpected fire, I quickly re-centered on truth. I remembered who I am. And that words are exactly that: merely words. I recognized the wanting truth in them more quickly than I could have ever realized before. I looked at myself and again knew. It stung, knowing. Knowing again that what I longed for would never come. That I truly do deserve more than those words could ever do and if I responded to them I’d be approving mistreatment as good enough. 

Promises aren’t contracts. If I could separate all of those who’ve ever told me they loved me from the few that have shown me, I would have mere grains of sand in one hand and the California coastline in the other. 

Promises don’t have to be in an explicit form, the way you speak uniquely towards someone is a promise. We fling promises out of our mouths every day without realizing - EX: If you tell me you’d do anything to talk to me, then do it. Where words once meant so much to me I’ve learned to ignore them. For them to mean anything I need more, and that’s not my job to emotionally wait for when the California coastline represents every promise that had no weight behind it.

But that’s not why I’m writing this, I’m writing this to tell of the victory that happened last night.

I was able to see things for what they were. I was able to respect myself. I was able to go behind my closed door and sit in the silence without a tear trickling down my cheek and without writing 100 unsent responses; I didn’t even start one.

My chest was heavy, but with painful acknowledgment of the truth. Not the struggling self-doubt and deep, unfulfilled longing I’ve worn so many nights before. 

Maybe someday the winds will change and the words can be proven true, but it’s been made clear that that’s no longer in my hands. Though it shouldn’t have ever been in my hands.

I accept my defeats and will live each day head held high with the grace of a woman and not the grief of a child. I will live knowing that each valley has been mapped for me to walk in perfect timing and conditions so that I may climb out exactly who I’m supposed to be.

As far as I’m concerned, until I’m physically confronted with opposing force, I will go on with my life. Living with the knowledge that has thus far been proven to be true. Knowing I deserve those who tell me they love me to show me. Practicing this in my walk by not needing to embrace counterfeit care.

Of course I never want beautiful promises made to me to be untrue, but they are not my responsibility to prove and fulfill.

Last night I knew that and emotionally handled myself accordingly- proof that this valley has not been walked in vain.

God is great and making me more capable to carry on.

This is my story. The Lord’s victory.

It’s Easter weekend, which means a lot of different emotions to me. Both for what it represents and for memories of my own personal Easters passed.

Good Friday (last night) is the most meaningful day of the year for me. 

Love. 

I want to write more, but when I reflect on Gethsemane and the long hours after, I can’t say anything more.

Love.

I worship you Jesus.

This film was created to raise awareness and ignite passion for both the children and new parents in the foster care system. Though adoption often deals with situations similar to this one where the child had undergone traumatic experiences which influence their behavior, this is the story of a foster child more often than not. I’ve longtime thought about adoption and while I may someday be blessed to have children through that route, I also believe that being a foster parent may be a path I one day walk. This excellent depiction of the mixed emotions the girl goes through in separation from her family coupled with the continuous feelings of rejection she feels in each new setting is a hurt very near to my heart. 

Whether or not I am challenged and blessed to be a foster parent one day, these little ones are to be remembered and cared for by all who they come across. 

When I reflect upon Jesus’ encounters with children I am greatly humbled. 

I am an intellectual, go-getter, adventurous, truth-seeker, and often what that looks like is a steam engine plowing through with not much time to look around. The disciples had things to do, places to go, and a huge message to spread but Jesus stopped them.

"Let the little children come to me"

Whoever treasures and accepts the kingdom of Heaven like a child is of more wisdom than Solomon and all his council. 

Whoever causes a child to stumble is better off to be drowned in the sea.

A child is weak, unable to give in return. Jesus loved them without reservation.

Do I love when I will receive no return?

Could I raise a child too broken to to ever say thank you?

Could I really be “an intellectual, go-getter, adventurous, truth-seeker” if I ignored the needs of the world’s children.

Or would I really just be ignorant? Selfish? Afraid? 

The disciples were antsy because of the work to be done and the truth to tell, but what Jesus personified in the mere moments he took with the children could not have been articulated even in hours by his rushing men.

The aim of our hearts is most loudly preached in what we take time for. Not what we say, but what we do. 

We are hands and feet, the command has already been given.

The next time you interact with a child, remember.

Child of Weakness

Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe.
Sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.

Thy power and Thine alone
can change the leper’s spots
can melt the heart of stone.

You are my strength, my treasure that I keep.

When I fall down you lift me up, when I am dry you fill my cup. 

This cornerstone, this solid ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace- when fears are stilled and silence ceased. 
My comforter my all in all, here in the love of Christ I stand.

'Child of weakness, watch. Pray. In me find rest. In me be whole.'

A Jar of Clay

15For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.

16So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. 17For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, 18as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

1 Cor 4:15-18 ESV

I am realizing more and more how valuable memorized (or closely remembered) Scripture is to the believer and all of mankind. That it is the true Word of God. 

Right now I’m sitting surrounded by a stack of papers with my head in my hands. This semester has been rough and it only seems to be heavier as the days go on. My phone next to me screams at me with unanswered texts and calls I need to make. I feel as if I’m being pressed down under the thumb of my planner lying in front of me. The seconds ticking away in the upper right corner of my screen are louder than a drum. Besides all of this, my head is elsewhere.

To be blunt, at first I thought it was PMS, then my period… but then for the last 6 or 7 weeks I’ve really struggled keeping it together.

Churning thoughts over and over in my mind. 
Chest pain.
Not sleeping.
Heavy eyes.
Crying at night.
Lonely. Angry. Hurt. Depressed. Anxious.

Where am I going? What am I doing here?

Is this right?

I feel hopeless.

What changed? This whole last year up until a few weeks ago I felt like a superstar. I was filled with heavenly joy and hope for the first time. I was looking ahead, though unknowing of what the future held I felt confidant trusting in the Lord. For some reason along the way I got knocked down. 

Only to fall deeper and deeper into the chasm of my inward being. 

Again I am on my knees crying out for help, because I CAN’T DO THIS on my own. GOD I’VE TRIED! I tried. I KNOW I need you. 

I am simply a jar of clay who You’ve chosen by grace to hold a priceless trove. 

Again let me recognize the hands of my Potter- shaping me into a more knowing vessel.

My flesh is failing, I’m wasting away more and more each day.

Have mercy on me,O God,
according to your steadfast love.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.


Cast me not away from your presence,
and take not your Holy Spirit from me.


Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

The ability to recall Scripture in a moment like this when I feel without hope is what the Bible calls metaphorical honey to nourish the believer.

My mind was far from Spiritual matters when I said to myself “I am wasting away day by day”. To which, because of previous time spent in the Word years ago, my heart replied ‘yes, you are, and He will renew you. He is your rescuer. Your shelter and high tower. Do not lose heart, because this hurt is not in vain. It is with purpose that you endure this pain. What feels endless now is momentary in light of the everlasting joy and thanksgiving this season of struggle will bring’. 

To God be the glory. When I am victorious and when I am conquered. 

To God be the glory, for my flesh may be weak but His Spirit is strong in me.

He is my protector and guide even when I look away.

Today’s remembrance of Scripture in a moment when I was looking to myself for hope is my affirmation that God’s Word is true. 

He is very alive and He is here. Everywhere. Everlasting. Mine.

March Gladness

happy to have this girl in my life. 

Her showing up when she did is such a testament to God’s staff in my life.