With a head full of brains and a whole lot to say, I live and I breathe and I think. Way too much. I love. Way too much. I laugh inappropriately and cry when I’m happy and it took me a lifetime within a lifetime to accept those strange parts of who I am. There’s a God who numbered the hairs on my head, the words I would speak, and the breaths I would take. Consequently, I follow Him; learning how to do so completely is the most difficult, exciting, unspeakable thing I’ve ever tried to do and I love it. I love Him. Learning is like breathing, you know. If you aren’t doing it, you’re dead… And while I learned all sorts of learnable things, I knew nothing until I discovered the love that Jesus has for me. (I was taught a huge amount of fear and rules and doomsday nonsense in my early days… None of that has a shred of reality in it. The real living God is love. Just, and fair, but overflowing with abundant grace and mercy…). His wisdom is unfailing; uncomprimising, beautiful, and worth living for. That’s the funny thing about God… He is the one and only being who will never let us down, and for all our “evolution” we can’t seem to master the concept of His grace. (Which, ironically, is the very reason we need it so much.) History repeats itself because none of it is new. Everything that could ever be said or done or felt has been already. Which is kind of the point, if we’re paying attention… Any struggle we endure, any pain we experience, any triumph we celebrate, are all a unique reflection of the same original premise; a recreation of a rough draft. A swaying in the breeze. The love it took to sacrifice His Son is the kind of love I want to replicate. Can you imagine the pain? Love was never intended to be an ego stroke. It came from complete and total selflessness.
I believe in unconditional love. I believe in fragmented sentences. I believe in rainy days, and the imagination of children. I believe in humanity, in chewy bacon, homegrown tomatoes, laughter, realness, and Jesus Christ. I believe in honesty. In hard work. In the word of God and the movement of the Holy Spirit, and the ability to be a perpetual work in progress while being confident–and aware–of who you are. I believe in the power of forgiveness, in naps, and hugs that last five minutes. I believe in growth, as much as I believe in pruning. (Nobody likes lopsided messes). 🙂
I believe in patience, which is painful for a reason. I believe that no one should underestimate the potential with which they were born; we are children of the infinite Creator of the universe! …Made in His image, forgiven and redeemed; unworthy, but HIS.
I believe in vaccuuming daily. I believe in saying how you feel, but i believe in thinking about how others feel before you do that. I believe in kindness, in thoroughness, in the color orange, and planting seeds–literally, and metaphorically. Reaping, and sowing. And not just sowing based on what we wish to reap.
I believe you matter to God. I believe He doesn’t make mistakes. I believe in balance and reading books and cooking from scratch and bubble baths. I believe in compassion, and everyone’s God-given right to have it. I also (equally) believe in everyone’s God-given responsibility to give it. No matter how things might seem to you, people have their reasons for being who they are. And most often, it isn’t about you.
Sometimes, a lot of times, I wish I could turn my emotions down a notch. I don’t get angry easily and I don’t hold grudges. But no matter how level headed I try to be or how understanding I think I am, this life has a tendency of meaning entirely too much to me sometimes. I want to make things right. I want to bring joy to this planet, while I’m still on it. I want to remind people of the things that matter, without getting caught up in the things that don’t in the process. Each and every experience tends to reach into my core and grab my soul with unrelenting strength. Things move me. Things hurt me. Things touch me entirely too deeply for my own good. I get overly connected to the ones I love. Overly sensitive to the movement of the Spirit, overly concerned about irreconcilable conflicts and unchangeable tragedies. And while I know God created me with that very alive and well ability to feel EVERYTHING so completely, I struggle with finding the balance between giving all I’ve got and knowing when to let go. Everything I feel, I feel 3,000%. There are no gray areas in my world. But like everyone else, I’m a work in progress.
I write because of that. Because there’s too much emotion and too much perspective to keep it all locked up inside my restless and passionate soul. My mind never slows down long enough for my heart to breathe. And the motion of thoughts as they evolve from feelings in your heart to words on a page is a healing movement. It is a perfect release of the hold they have over you. When set free, ideas become real. When we carry them around, they settle like dead weight in the center of who we are… I never was the kind of girl who was easily anchored.