His intimate provision

Inherently, we desire companionship; and frequently, it comes in the form of craving or aching. In moments of emotional discomfort, we cling to the physical world. We search for tangible amenities that can soothe our raw hearts and satisfy the longing we feel we can’t control. We reach out, hoping to catch anything that’s available to tell us we belong, to have an intimacy that silences the loneliness and degrading thoughts. We idolize relationships, marriage, elders, siblings, etc. that we look to for a sense of wholeness, to talk to and be talked at, to connect and agree, to share in laughter and in cries. A hand to hold or someone to hug. We idolize them, and fall apart when it’s taken away.

When you dissect this concept, there’s one thing in common: palpable interaction. Concrete assurance and reassurance that that person is there in front of you, loving you, and fueling you. We thrust our hope, trust, and expectations into those that we tangibly love because it produces immediate and clear feedback. We rely on them to satisfy all our wishes and confirm all of our emotional tantrums- so when that person is no longer Read More

breaking the rules

Rules are used to dictate a standard; a decree to a way of living or behavior, and what specifically to do or not do in situations. We follow them, we break them, and as generations change many will judge you based on those numbers. It’s a race we run until one day, hopefully, we understand that there’s no prize.

Mine was a sprint. I followed those around me, running and panting after an acceptance that I would never obtain; a status that stole my self-worth and replaced it with conditional love.

These “rules” that I strove to break were a big part of the reason I ran from God; because God dictated these rules and I was not ready to follow them.

A week ago I had a post my resume for Jesus where I discussed the idea that we do not have to prove our worth to follow God, we simply have to choose Him. Read More

finding rest

When life gets busy without me, I pray for patience. Those are the days that don’t seem to include you in its’ grand plan, everyone and thing hustling around, chasing after the time that never seems to catch up. I get anxious, worrisome about the details of who I am and if this world would miss me. So patience, the capacity to tolerate hardship, or suffering. It’s the emotional level that satisfies the longing and restless mind.

As I run, feet pounding on the paved trail, or ankles straining over the rocky gravel, I imagine that mindset as my endgame. The finish line. Run, and keep running until that solitude overwhelms my body. It’s inevitable, every time, that as I try to catch my breath and slow my heart rate, I feel it, I’m there.

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The trail today was swarming with overgrown trees. They lingered over the path creating a collision of unwanted obstacles in the way of my hike. They were clearly dehydrated from the lack of consistent rain in the last month, as well as the smoldering heat. As I was unnecessarily frustrated with the circumstance, I looked down to notice my happy four-legged friend trotting through the bush without a care in the world. She was happy to be out in the woods, running free and running fast.

I laughed, tightened my backpack strings, and took off on a trail run following her lead. It was 88 degrees, sweat dripping in my eyes but I looked at my surroundings with awe as I remembered to see even the fallen leaves as beautiful.

I forgot for a moment the reason I love the woods and venturing through them. Its cleansing, every single time.

Hebrews 4:7 …Today if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts

When I enter an environment with a selfish heart, I inevitably leave it unsatisfied, having judged it or mocked it. But with a softened heart, the kind that only God can provide, my mind enters a necessary rest. I remembered this verse in Hebrews as I hit Read More

the author of my life

As a reader, I get lost in the lyrical words of authors and story-lines, often entranced by the images they portray. This kind of imagery creates an addiction for narratives- intense, dramatic, romantic, provoking and all the above. I crave the emotion and thoughts put together in stories, and will stay up all night to see it through.

I’ve never realized that this kind of joy, alters the way I view my life. It’s an amazing tool we have, to string together sentences in endless forms, having the ability to capture a heart and mind, and teach them just as well. But what I am caught up in, is the emotional high, which then turns into personal desire. I expect my life to playout as though a book might, not in the characters and their specific endeavors, but the ease of knowing there’s a plot, and it must end.

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lost to the depths of sin

To be lost, is a dreadful and disheartening thing. It causes distress in the most frantically inclined way; and frustration to its core, growing and building from a hindrance of disorientation. It leaves a lasting imprint too, rather than a temporary wandering that is forgotten and omitted.

We feel that sensation every moment that allows a memory to stroll through our veins- yes veins, not mind. That would be too simple. To have felt and experienced the truest sense of the word “lost” then you know that it penetrates.

With that truth though, means the release of that state of mind is nothing short of exhilarating and peaceful all at the same time.

I have been captivated by this existence half my life, as most of you have. But not long ago I experienced the greatest saving I could ever imagine, and from the darkest, most mislead place there is.

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