"You are the God who sees me..."

I'm in this strange place.

I am financially unstable but very much resting in God's presence. God has really drawn me nearer to him lately... even before my world started rocking...

I've been having dreams lately. Lots of dreams. Last night I had one- and I don't remember much about it, except one phrase that stayed with me. I was outside on the ground, and all of these writings, paintings, and journals of mine were on the ground. It was muddy and it was raining and I was trying desperately to scoop them up and carry them inside. There was a woman there... I don't remember her role in the dream. She looked down at all of these things and said, "Huge. It's huge." And I looked up at her, kind of in question. And she said, "Your heart is huge."

I don't remember much of that dream, but that part sticks and ticks within me.

I've been doing a bible study on my own lately, that my mother purchased for me last year at camp. In the section that I am in, it is talking about how God sees us. The first part talked of Hagar, and how God saw her pain regarding Sarah's treatment and resentment of her, and how he blessed her descendants. She calls him "the God who sees me" or "the God who comforts" "the God who sees"... Later in another part- it talks about Leah...and how God saw that she was unloved by her husband and opened her womb. She again refers to him as the "God who saw her pain"

I feel like my dreams have been like that lately. In these dreams- nothing has been revealed to change my life... but God SEES me. He sees my heart, he sees my pain, he sees my lows, he sees my inadequacies.

I have such a peace in feeling that God sees me...through everything.

Dream Drip Drop

Can't sleep.

Tried.

I try all the time... and my mind runs faster and faster when I try to stop.

I was thinking about things I love tonight, as I was trying to sleep...thinking maybe I could distract myself with incessant thoughts.

LOVE:
Jesus.
My family.
My friends.
Being capable of loving.
Warm summer rain
Changing leaves.
Sunshine.

There is so much more.
But...maybe I'm too tired.
Maybe,
It's working
Finally...

When I Was A Little Girl...

When I was a little girl... I had lots of thoughts.

Perhaps I would never grow up...perhaps I would stay a child forever.

Of course, I would never stop playing pretend.

I would always love dolls, twirling, and the Backstreet Boys.

In Kindergarten, I sat next to an older girl on the bus. She would always smear oily, smelly make-up all over her face on the way to school.

I would never do that.

I would always have the time to climb trees, read, and lay on the side of my old forgotten bridge...dreaming...

I would love Star Trek, Star Wars, and Science Fiction ALWAYS...

If I did grow up, I would have 1,000 babies or adopt a whole mansion of children and love them as my own.

I would meet a most wonderful man. I would meet him in some adventurous way...
...He would rescue me from a burning building...
...I would be a mermaid, rescuing him from drowning and fall in love with him...
...He would gallop after me on his noble steed, after my own wild and fiery horse had gotten loose...

The higher we climbed into our treehouse, the farther we stepped into a different world.

Orchards Filled With Fruit

There is nothing to fear,
For I am near.
He loves not what he does not know-
And loves mist and smoke.

You are beautiful.
You are mine.
I have chosen you...
I have CALLED you...
I have beckoned you nearer to me with every ache of your heart.

Won't you welcome me?
Won't you run to me?
I am LOVE where love was lacking.
I am love.
I am love.
All you seek is me.
I am yours as you are mine.
Draw nearer to me and I will show you more of myself.

Do not waste the beauty I have given you.
Do not waste away.
Do not pine for bitter things when I have orchards filled with sweet fruit for you to taste!

He has not made you happy.
He has made you bitter and dissatisfied.
And what you have given of your heart has made him like a thief...
And has corrupted your love of him.

Break down the walls.
Quit thirsting after his shallow affection.
Thirst for my beauty and light.
What good is it to love someone who does not exist but in a vapor?
Or miss the sour kisses of love not fully claimed?
YOU COULD HAVE SO MUCH MORE.

I have so much for you,
For you ARE mine.
And I love you.
Truly.

Be at peace.

Psalm 126
A song of ascents.

1 When the LORD brought back the captives to Zion,
we were like men who dreamed.

2 Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations,
"The LORD has done great things for them."

3 The LORD has done great things for us,
and we are filled with joy.

The Collector

It’s easy to forget all the wonderful things when someone doesn’t appear to truly notice them. Does that make you less worthy or valuable? Or is it he that you should feel sorry for? Pity him for not taking care of something so valuable and extraordinary.

You saw him.

In rain and shine.

When he wasn’t great and when he was absolutely wonderful. You saw the beauty in him, so aren’t you the lucky one? So what that he didn’t appreciate you? Wouldn’t choose to love you back? Wouldn’t choose to let you love him?

Why can’t you get it that someday you will be seen and that someone will revel in your beauty—delight in you. Wouldn’t you rather have that? Rather than be someone’s last resort—second choice—back-up? YOU DESERVE WONDER.

He can’t deserve you when he doesn’t even realize the treasure he is holding.

Think about a collector. Say this collector loves Corot- just like you. He has scoured the earth looking for a missing Corot painting. Let’s say that Prince William actually owns this painting. It’s in a heap of painting—in a room that’s just full of forgotten paintings that have been lying around for centuries- gathering mold.

He’s maybe even seen it… walked by it a few times. But he’s never really SEEN it. It’s in Prince William’s possession but he doesn’t really deserve it, does he? He’s never stopped to dust it off and really look at it. See the gold-leafing and the stark, breath-taking contrast. The way the brush dips in and out between exact likeness and dreamy haziness. He doesn’t even know to appreciate that a master painter, Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot, HIMSELF, actually painted this painting! That HIS hands held the brush that rendered this work of art. That his eye scrutinized and beheld every detail- envisioning and implementing every aspect of fine beauty.

How could Prince William deserve this painting?! How could he, when he doesn’t even have a clue how valuable and beautiful it is?

He can not deserve it if he has barely even begun to appreciate it.

But the Collector.

He loves this painting—even though he has NEVER seen it. He searches and he waits. He won’t find it until it leaves Prince William’s room of Forgotten Paintings though.

The Collector knows that this beautiful painting exists and so he searches, and so he waits.

Loving something he has never even seen.

My Heart

Someone requested that I post the following entry. *I changed some names to protect my friends, but it is probably one of the most honest things I have ever written...

MY HEART

Have you ever loved someone so much that your stomach hurts? It is physically painful how much you feel… like an army of bees spinning honey in your organs… like a coil twisted so tight, you wait and wait for it to spring, and it never does. That’s how it’s felt to love him sometimes. There were times when he would kiss me and my heart would catch and I literally couldn’t breathe for a fraction of a second. That was Jake*. I always thought those were fairytales.
With Rob*, I spent every waking moment with. He knew my past…he was part of it. We were linked by family and history and commonalties. It was all in the details. It felt amazing to be known and to truly KNOW someone. I loved him the best way my sweet and unbroken 20-year-old heart could. That was Rob. He was everything I grew up thinking I wanted.

I look back on it now and marvel at how careless I had been with my heart. I look back at that love and I know it was so small compared to the love I have for Jake, but for some reason, Rob hurt much more. Maybe it’s the whole, "the first cut is the deepest thing’ but I remember nights crying so hard that I would wake up and my eyes would be swollen and sealed shut with my tears. I DID love Rob. But when I look back, I see how naïve and innocent it was. I had never given him my heart. I let him see it all the time. I didn’t know to. I felt safe. He knew every crevice, every scar, and so when things didn’t work out, my heart felt heavy and vulnerable.
I loaded my life with extra-curriculars and business, hoping to distract myself from seeing that my heart was becoming heavy with grief and cracking from the weight and fullness of rejection and failing to juggle everything successfully. Soon, everything crashed and my broken heart fell last. It was too heavy, and I dropped it. It was a fresh heart too, you know? When it fell, it didn’t shatter from being cold and made of ice. And it didn’t crack and break apart like a brittle pot of clay. It didn’t thump loudly and indent because of it’s callused, outward covering. I wasn’t callused, I wasn’t bitter. I wasn’t cold and aloof. I was fresh.

Don’t get me wrong. I had been hurt before. I had soft spots and bruises and cuts all over that heart. But they had been bandaged and were healing. My heart simply had never known it could take such a beating. I used to long to know what it felt like to fall in love and get your heart broken. Now I wish I had seen the treasure it was to not have that experience. It may have not been perfect. It might have been misshapen and bruised, but it was whole. And after Rob, it just simply wasn’t the same. My heart hit that floor and it just fell apart like a soft melon being dropped from a high place. Pieces flying in every direction and that soft unprotected center oozing out.

And I did what I had to do. I scrambled for the pieces, scooped everything that had escaped back into my damaged and soft heart. And then I started binding it. Not bandaging. Binding. I had to keep it together. I could not be broken. I wrapped it in thick strips of muslin first, then covered it in mud and let it bake in the sun till it was hard. Then I covered it in cement. I tried covering up that soft heart with something harder than I was. And I did something else too.
I started hiding my heart. I kept it in a jar above my bed for a while, hanging from a chain. But when it’s beat would keep me up at night, I would cover it in socks and sweatshirts and try to hide it in my closet. When that didn’t work, I buried it in my yard. But I kept it safely hidden away. For a while, I resorted to a social version of myself that was safe, and was me but only just enough to keep people from getting too deep. They knew me. Sure. But only two inches wading in.

God would every once in a while pick away at that layer of cement. He would find it no matter where I would hide it and he would just start picking away. And sometimes there was a lot of pressure. I would feel that pick and hammer against my heart, and I would know that God was up to something. But it would also feel so good when he would pick up that heart. And hold it in his hands. Even when it was the heaviest, after it’s latest concrete dip… even then, I could still feel his hands through every layer. And he would wrap himself around it… and I tried not to mind that he was destroying everything I had made.

When Jake came along the concrete was gone, but my heart was still broken. The muslin still clung furiously to my bloody, broken heart and the cement had done a lot of damage. More than I realized. It had pushed a once vibrant and unashamed heart into a small, dark, space. And I still hid it every night before I went to sleep. Once in a while, when he would come over, I would hold it in my arms, clasping it desperately, and let him peek through the cracks in my arms to see it. Sometimes he would think it was so beautiful, but most of the time it would overwhelm him and he could only look at it for a few moments. It was too much for him. I could never figure which was too much: the beauty, or the decay.

After a while, I let him hold it, but only if it was in a basket. He always wanted a blanket too, just in case it became too much to look at it. My heart was happy when it was with Jake, and it shone so bright that the light would burst through the cracks and in between the lines of the muslin.
Jake wasn’t always very good about taking care of it, but I still trusted him with it. I don’t know why. He dropped it all the time. That was the biggest problem. He would always apologize, saying he didn’t mean to drop it.

I would always forgive him.

The best part is that when Jake was holding my heart, I was allowed to hold his. He has a beautiful heart. Don’t get me wrong, it’s seen some bad things. It’s got bruises from his childhood, a few knicks here and there. The most noticeable is a long deep cut that runs from the top almost all the way down to the bottom. Apparently, when he was younger, a vicious Lynx had pounced on it and had swiped one cruel and sharp claw at it. Jake would insist that it was healed up, but sometimes when he was busy paying attention to my heart, or distracted by something else, blood and pus would just ooze out of that wound and I would clean it up softly and gently and wouldn’t say a word.

Meanwhile, God was always asking to spend time with my heart. Sometimes it was annoying because Jake would already be gone with it, out taking a walk or something. God would still stay and talk with me, worried that something might happen to my heart while it was with Jake. I went over all the logical explanations as to why it was perfectly fine. God would just nod his head and look at me. I could see the worry in his eyes, but I would just busy myself with something else or change the subject.

Jake was strange about my heart. Sometimes he would come and gladly take my heart and other times I would ask for him to take it and he would want nothing to do with it. Sometimes I would ask Jake if he wanted to keep it forever. I told him that if he just asked nice and maybe gave me his heart; I would let him keep mine for always. Like a trade-off. He would get really spooked at that. He would throw the basket at me and run away. I figured it was that old Lynx wound that still needed to heal up. At least, I hoped that was the reason. I didn’t want to think that maybe, just maybe, he just didn’t want my dirty, broken, bound-up heart. Every time he would leave my heart and not take it with him, that burst of light would shrink back within it’s binding.

When God would finally get a chance alone with my heart, he started working on all that mud I had caked over the muslin. He would sit over it and with kind, slow hands; he would gently scrub away. Sometimes I would watch in awe, noticing the difference between the way God handled my heart and the way Jake handled my heart. I would tell God, and he would nod and keep working away at that mud.

I started getting on Jake’s case about the way he treated my heart. He would say things like, "Well you are the one who said it was ok for me to take it on a walk. It’s not my fault the basket tipped over."

I would get mad.

"So my heart is like a pet to you? Like a dog that you can beat and it will still come back to you?"

He would get all contrite and look at me with his sad, soft eyes. "I didn’t realize that I hurt it that badly. I’m sorry. I won’t drop it again. I promise."

To his credit, he WAS always very good about putting my heart back safely and with the utmost care wherever I had hidden it. And he respected my rules… never looking too closely at the heart or taking it out of the basket and holding it too closely. Sometimes I think he was afraid to look to close. Maybe afraid that if he held it, it would burn through his skin. Maybe it would have.

In the meantime, I had grown quite attached to his heart. I would often hint that I wanted to keep it, or that it would be a great Christmas present. He would scowl, and rip his heart out of my hands and leave. In those times when he would leave it in my care, I saw it flourish. The large gouge was healing up nicely. The color had deepened. It would sit happily and beat calmly against my hands. I would hold it close to my chest and remember what it had felt like in the old days, when my own heart felt safe inside. But I couldn’t trust anyone’s heart in there anymore. It had not proven to be very safe.

God had finally gotten the last of the mud off when he said, "You know, Melissa… it’s probably not a good idea for you to let Jake take your heart like that whenever he wants to. You need to keep it safe with you. I only gave you one, and I meant it when I asked you to guard it. I understand why you bury it and hide it from others right now, sometimes even yourself. But if you aren’t even ready to put it back where it belongs, inside you… then I hardly think you should be letting Jake borrow it."

I would get mad when God would say things like that, because I would hear the truth inside his words. Plus, I knew how happy my heart was when it was Jake… and how sad it was without him. I didn’t want to let go. God mentioned lots of things. Like… sometimes Jake would come over to borrow my heart and not bring his… and worse… sometimes he would come over and just leave his here and not take mine. It was hard to take care of two hearts… especially when they weren’t in the best of shape.

Then there came a day when God peeled off the first strip of muslin. It hurt so much. It had been on there a while and my heart had grafted to it. It took almost all day. When God finally pulled the last part of the strip away, he said:

"My dear Melissa. Please listen. Letting Jake borrow your heart is really hurting it. You haven’t let him hold it, he hasn’t really taken a good look at it, and he keeps it covered all the time. Every time he takes it, it is happy and it swells with joy…causing the muslin bands to tighten around the heart. It’s making it harder for me to take them off. Your heart isn’t ready to fill like that… It needs to be free of all the bindings before it can love."

"Well what about me? It can love me."

"But you never want to be near it. You hide it every chance you get, and when you’re not hiding it, you’re trying to give it to someone else to take care of. They can’t take off the bindings; they can’t wipe the mud away. Only I can do that. And only if you’ll let me."

Of course, I got defensive. "Well I let you! You were here all the time scrubbing away, and look all of the dirt is gone!"

"Do you want me just to make it better for a short time? Do you want me to remove a strip of muslin one-day, only to come the next day and start all over again. Your heart is getting better Melissa, but I don’t get that much time with it. I love Jake. He is my son, and there is no reason you can not show him parts of your heart as you do with your other friends… but I do not want you to let him have your heart anymore. Not unless he is ready to hold it, and to keep it."
I changed the subject. But everyday he said the same thing. And I was starting to see his point.

"Do you want to be well, Melissa? I will come here every day and I will tend to your heart, if you ask me to. If you want to really be well, than follow me. Listen to me. I want the very best for you and your heart. I love you. I will make you well. I WANT to make you well."

I think God had been talking to Jake about this too… probably in a different way. Maybe pointing out that my heart was in much worse condition than his and that I should let it stay with me and God where it could heal up. Or maybe Jake was starting to feel bad because God was pointing out that it probably wasn’t a good idea to let someone borrow your heart unless you really want to give it to them.

Regardless, one day Jake came over and we held each other’s heart one last time. We decided to no longer lend our hearts out to one another. It felt good to hold his heart one last time and say goodbye. When he left, I didn’t want to give his heart back. He looked at me with such sadness. Understanding. Pity? Maybe. He just whispered gently, "It’s ok. This will be better for us. Give it back, Melissa."

I cried and cried.

But the next day my heart was bleeding less through the muslin and God held it gently, his hand soft and sweet. He said, "We’re getting really close, Melissa. Once we get all the muslin off, we can get put medicine on it and let it feel the cool air and it WILL start to heal. We’ll dress and change the bandage everyday. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt so much, Melissa because we are going to go back before Jake. We are going back before Rob. We will go back to the very first scar, and the very first lash, and the very first bruise. It will hurt so much, but if you let me hold it and let me take care of it, I will make you well."

MUST READ BOOKLIST

My Summer Reads:

- The Book of James (in the Bible): I just think it's a good summer book.

- The Pilgrim's Regress by C.S. Lewis: I'm currently reading it for the first time, and it is written in these small, PACKED with gold, sections... so packed that sometimes even the titles alone hold a wealth of meaning. I love anything this man has written. (that I've read)

- The Chronicles of Narnia by Clive Staples Lewis: It's the ultimate fiction series... which let's face it: summer reading is perfect for fiction. Fantasy + Fiction + Christian parallels + Aslan= AWESOME-ness. I don't know how many times I've read these guys. Always good. I started in May re-reading... and I'm at Prince Caspian. I'm reading them in the order C.S. Lewis intended them to be read...not the order in which they were written.

- Captivating by John and Stasi Elderedge sp?: It's got some very true and important things to say about women. Lots of focus on healing and recognizing beauty in ourselves.

-The Confident Woman by Joyce Meyer: Never read it. Or anything of hers. It just looks good. So I would like to read that.

-Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery: It's summer. It's definitely a summer read. So poetic. It's not for everyone. But if you like drivel and romanticized crap with long and descriptive words and imagery... then you'll like it. It's one of my favorites.

The Shadow and The Wind

Outside...in the black pitch of night... there is darkness waiting...
It slinks about the walls of this grand fortress...
This grand fortress you have so lovingly constructed for me...

Sometimes I see it's form in the shadow of the wall...
I think it may be a snake...It's deep, throaty voice, coming out in a hiss...
"You will never be loved. You will never be happy. You will never succeed."

You did something didn't you?
To the snake, I mean?

At times, I sense the Shadow... the night in it's descending fear...
But I haven't seen the snake for quite some time.

The other day I went walking... and I saw a snake's head detached and apart from it's body.
It's body lay in a coiled heap on the dusty road.

That very night I heard a soft breeze whispering...It seemed to choke out the Shadow...
Sent it quivering into the glade...
And the hum of the river, just over the hills...Could finally reach my ears.

I heard a sweet whisper in that Wind:
"You are so valuable. You are so beautiful. You are so important to me. I love you so very much."

You killed that snake, didn't you?

Tonight, when the Shadow seems to hover in the clouds...I will believe the Wind.

I will close my eyes, and believe the wind.

Gracias...Terima Kasih...Merci Beaucoup...Gratzie...Danke

Going to sleep, but needed to note:

Making friends is always good.
Talking till 4 a.m. about God is ALWAYS worth it.
Meeting Brothers in Christ who are excited about life is encouraging.
Not worrying about "love" or "guys" is INCREDIBLY FREEING!
Learning and doing something you love to do all day is contagiously exciting.
Getting $10 off on an oil change is an unexpected joy.
Eating an Eggo at 4 a.m. is yummy but probably not a good idea.

Thanks God.

Carolina del Norte

Crickets.
Soft blades.
Dark, deep earth.
Sky diamonds.
Dark violet velvet.
The warm, sweet breath of God.
Crackling twigs.
Strict, green bamboo.
Twisting, wicked trees.
Muddy waters.
Laughter.
Joy.
Peace.

Life.

CARRY HIS CLAIM

Psalm 37:4:
Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart.

This first part is for All My Single Ladies:
It may seem like love and a man to cherish you are forever away... maybe it seems like you shouldn't want for those things... maybe it seems improbable. I do know... that if God has a man for you, then he has a man for you... I also know that God wants good things for you. He put desires in your heart so he could delight in giving them to you. If you have a desire for love, and a husband... let it be. Relax. God wants it for you... If he doesn't, then he will prepare your heart... he will take the desire away... you won't miss it. In the meantime... if you DO desire, you can relax knowing something good is on it's way and relax knowing God will prepare your heart for whatever it needs as long as you entrust it to his care.

JEREMIAH 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

I have a hard time letting anyone else drive my car. They drive too slow, or they don't listen for the subtle changes in my car to know something is wrong. I also don't like it when cars drive in front of me. I can't see anything! I often get in front of God. I like to be in the front. I like to know where I am going. I think a lot of people are like that. They say, "Ok God, you can lead...tell me where to go... but let me drive!"

Think about it... from an early age, we are asked "our plan" and it continues on... an obsession always with what's ahead of us.

"So what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"Where are you going to college?"
"When are you going to get a real job?"
"Have you found a guy yet?"
"You've been married a while, are you pregnant yet?"
"You've had that clunker forever, when are you getting a new car?"
"Do you have a decent retirement plan?"

Nothing is wrong with ambition. Nothing is wrong with having a goal. But so many people live for the next step...what's next on their calendar... what's next in their life... WHERE THEY SHOULD BE SPIRITUALLY... It's like a constant time bomb ticking...

And I hate to break it to you, but there is no freedom in that...and one of God's biggest platforms is Freedom... and I don't think he is JUST talking about sin. I think he means a freedom that comes from trusting a God so big he can handle your sins and your future and your LIFE.

MATTHEW 6:34
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Trusting God in all things has to be more than the big things... it has to be more than the future things... it has to be more than the tough things.

TRUST IS REST. TRUST HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU AND EVERYTHING TO DO WITH GOD!

Trusting God is more than the small things too: We don't need to consult God with what color of socks to wear in the morning. God made us capable to make decisions. Trust is not the same thing as constant consultation. People use God like a Personal Assistant.

"I just don't know which shirt to wear... is the blue one more spiritual because it looks like heaven. I should probably avoid the black and red one then. It looks like hell. Can you get me a cup of coffee? I'm exhausted. How about a new job? I trust you. Thanks. Oh, and look for a bigger office and more pay."

What do you think GIFTS are for? CARRY HIS CLAIM ON YOUR LIFE!!! God has called you as his own and has therefore MARKED you... CLAIMED you. He has armed you with a unique and special artillery. It is all OVER the New Testament. What do you think Paul blabbers on about chapter upon chapter? God armed you with Gifts so you would be capable, functioning, and contributing to his body. His church. Your brothers. Your limbs.

Basically, You can pick out your own socks. Or you have a brother/sister gifted with good fashion sense to help you.

THE POINT IS:

DO NOT WORRY ABOUT YOUR LIFE!

MATTHEW 6:25:
"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. (the message)

I can guarantee you half of what you think matters, really doesn't.

What matters is Christ. To LIVE is CHRIST.

So...

Yeah...pray for direction. Pray for God's will. God wants to bless you... but then trust that he will either give the blessings you desire or direct you in a different direction. This touches so many things: occupation, vocation, spouses, family, destination, residence, security, prosperity, and on and on and on and on....

I'm a big believer that God works through open doors/windows... I'm sure you've felt that regret when an opportunity came your way and you didn't take it. Maybe afraid of giving up SECURITY in your present job/relationship/living situation/etc. Trust God and GO for things... apply for jobs if you feel dissatisfied in present occupations, volunteer somewhere in your community if you are looking for somewhere to help. If you trust God, I can guarantee he will let you know what is up. He closes doors too.

PSALM 118: 24:
This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!

SEIZE THE DAY! Isn't that a biblical principal? Doesn't God point out several times in scripture to LIVE FOR TODAY!? CARPE DIEM PEOPLE! WAKE UP!

Your life is now.

You've got RIGHT now. Right this minute. Not the vacation your taking with your family in a few weeks... not the day you learned to tie your shoe... not the raise you get after working at your new job for a year. RIGHT NOW.

Live every moment as though it were your last. THIS IS THE DAY THE LORD HAS MADE!

Trust HIM with your life, so you can start LIVING IT!

Moving to NORTH CAROLINA

So...

When you pray for opportunities...

When you wait...

When you look for open doors and windows...

And When you ACTUALLY go through them...

Your life changes.

Life didn't begin when I graduated from college.  It didn't begin when I left my parent's home after high school.  Sometimes people wrongly push people towards this "HUGE MOMENT"- graduation, college, "destiny"... saying... "Here it is... here is where your life begins."

My life began when I was born... and every moment after.  I am living now.  Without a husband.  Without babies.  Without a ton of money.  And my life is counting for something.

You don't need a huge destination, or a fancy job, or a spouse, or a college degree.

Arm yourselves with God.  Carry his claim on your life.  All you need, right?

So.... I am moving to North Carolina.  I just accepted a position as Technical Director and Office Manager at The Rocky Hock Playhouse in Washington, NC.  Lots of responsibility and a unique opportunity to actually use my college degrees in my occupation.  Really rare for all of my renaissance expertise.

This blog is not about North Carolina.  I am starting a new blog, because God is calling me to a new aspect of my journey.  Let it be about light.  Let it be about letting God mold me into something.  Let it be about pudding.

It's life.