2016 hasn't been a very reflective year for me. It's mostly just happened, my heart racing to keep up with the pace of it all. Even now I feel a little scattered -- content, peaceful, but my thoughts aren't organized and my words aren't cohesive.
2016 hasn't been a very reflective year for me. It's mostly just happened, my heart racing to keep up with the pace of it all. Even now I feel a little scattered -- content, peaceful, but my thoughts aren't organized and my words aren't cohesive.
My roommates and I spent last weekend in Tennessee with Bethany’s family, and one night the three of us ended up playing a game called Say Anything. Eventually, we put the scorecards away and used the questions as late-night conversation prompts. (As though our conversations need prompting.)
I hear people say that the Lord won’t give you a platform until your character can sustain the spotlight. I suppose that may be true (although there are about a thousand ways to get a platform that don't involve the Lord's giving it to you, but that's not what I'm here to talk about). I'm here to talk about what I rarely hear people say.
It's been so long since I jumped on here to say hi. I've been writing a Bible study week by week, which I haven't done in over a year. It's taken me a while to find my rhythm. And the last thing I've wanted to do when it's finished is come and write more words.
I have been quiet here lately. Because I haven’t known what to say. Hate wreaks havoc on a tired world. Fear swells up angry and a nation takes sides. Hurt breaks hearts that come up swinging. Well-intended words offend. Accidental insults wound souls already raw. Silence feels like safety, but it feels like hiding too.
I was recently asked in front of a group of women what I look for in a friend. I stumbled around in an attempt to sound somewhat holy (or at least reflective) until I finally said, "I guess I just like them."
When a rainstorm ruined each of our plans on Sunday night, my roommate Lindsee and I got a little bit creative. What follows is an example of what might happen when two bloggers get bored...
When a rainstorm ruined each of our plans on Sunday night, my roommate Lindsee and I got a little bit creative. What follows is an example of what might happen when two bloggers get bored...
June has a way of sneaking up on me. It always leaves me a little restless. Maybe it's all the years of school, but June feels more like a year-end than December ever does. Seasons always make me wonder. Maybe it's the part of me that's slightly averse to change that likes the consistent, predictable shifting of the seasons.
We look all around and forget to look across the table. We listen to fifteen-thousand words a day and forget to hear the five that matter, the five they needed us to hear. We seek the stories that stir our faith and forget to let the lives lived nearest speak the loudest. We show up for the stranger and forget that our presence is somehow most important to the ones we see the most.
We look all around and forget to look across the table. We listen to fifteen-thousand words a day and forget to hear the five that matter, the five they needed us to hear. We seek the stories that stir our faith and forget to let the lives lived nearest speak the loudest. We show up for the stranger and forget that our presence is somehow most important to the ones we see the most.
I've been thinking so much recently about God's will. About how He tells us to pray that it will be done: "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. On earth as it is in heaven." (Matthew 6:10) The very fact that we are told to ask for it suggests that there are other wills that might be done instead. Mine. Yours. The enemy's. The world's.
I've been thinking so much recently about God's will. About how He tells us to pray that it will be done: "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. On earth as it is in heaven." (Matthew 6:10) The very fact that we are told to ask for it suggests that there are other wills that might be done instead. Mine. Yours. The enemy's. The world's.
I'm sitting at my desk at work, door open, listening to about 20 boy scouts lay pavers for a walkway behind one of the homes here. And I have some extra time, so I thought I'd stop in here and see if I have anything to tell you. I'm just the right amount of tired to be honest. And I've been sitting here alone just long enough to welcome some company. So settle in.
I'm sitting at my desk at work, door open, listening to about 20 boy scouts lay pavers for a walkway behind one of the homes here. And I have some extra time, so I thought I'd stop in here and see if I have anything to tell you. I'm just the right amount of tired to be honest. And I've been sitting here alone just long enough to welcome some company. So settle in.
There’s a popular song right now that says: “I’m only one call away I’ll be there to save the day. Superman’s got nothing on me. I’m only one call away.” I don't actually know if it's that popular. What I know is that my roommates keep singing it, so it keeps getting stuck in my head. It seems popular in this house.
There’s a popular song right now that says: “I’m only one call away I’ll be there to save the day. Superman’s got nothing on me. I’m only one call away.” I don't actually know if it's that popular. What I know is that my roommates keep singing it, so it keeps getting stuck in my head. It seems popular in this house.
I woke up every morning last week thinking, “I have got to write something today.” It didn't feel like pressure. It just felt like reality. Like I needed to get my thoughts and feelings down on some kind of paper. When I feel like that – like I have to write or else I will suffocate – it’s usually because I’m trying to hide.
