a conscience effort

We are brought up on responsibility. Knowing how to earn our keep around the house, in the community, or what misconduct looks like in school, church, what-have-you. Not every child is thoroughly raised on it, but it is without a doubt a part of our upbringing within any society; as in we are aware of what it is, no matter the details per individual. Therefore, we know culpability. We blame ourselves or others without a second thought because there is always someone at fault, and then the faultless.

To speak with honesty, we lean towards others before ourselves. We are quick to justify, easy to assume, and loose with accountability; this is us as born sinners, designed to need direction of some sort, obligation to our morals and truths.

And such a thing has been provided, but widely misused. Our conscious is not a hot topic, nor even thought of as a common matter. But my is it crucial to the way we serve our God as well as a glimpse into how He created us. Read More

i am not first

Motivation is a powerful tool our mind desires in most situations. An ambition of sorts that gives you meaning to act on or for something, and pushes our physical bodies to make the move. It’s a necessity in our world, a dependent, and without it, we fall into dormancy. This is a concept that challenges heart searching, every individual is provoked by something, and that something is uniquely specific to how you think.

At the root of it, there are two types of this inspiration. Nothing more, nothing less. It is either for the glory of God, or for yourself.

We are wired with emotion; fueled on it and gripped by it. There is no situation with which an emotional pull is not somewhat a factor, whether it be in making a decision or the consequences of one, it is existent and it is potent. The pull behind our actions and thoughts are in a way unreliable, like a child amid curiosity, where everything is interesting and nothing is right, we fall victim to our reactive nature and want what is best {what we portray as best} right that minute, no waiting. And we want to throw a Read More

we are His artwork

An artist has a particularly creative skill. An overwhelming combination of composition and delicacy, coarseness, and framework. Their minds weave together all the beauty and sadness cooped up in this world and we as spectator’s awe over every inch of it.

With a multitude of artisans, we have a boundless pit of visionary work to get lost in; whether it be to the beat of a drum set, the soft-spoken violin, the freshly done oil painting, a beautiful new recipe, a book that teaches you something heart wrenching- whatever it may be, we have an avenue of pure human beauty, a welcoming into struggling hearts that walk around our streets with a smile.

And aren’t we so proud of this work? As the artist themselves, do you not imagine they take a step back and admire their accomplishment? That their pride is leaping for joy at the work their own two hands created? I imagine they are dumbfounded at their ability, wondering how they’ve made it here, learned what they have and strove for nothing less.

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dealing with the change

I am sitting on a dock, toes teasing the water and completely mesmerized by its personality. Not just the ocean itself, but this state. Florida has shown me an indecisive character; one that is beautifully bright and warming one minute, and angered with rain the next. I have learned to carry sunglasses and an umbrella at all times, expect a constant disagreement between wind and humidity, and fall completely in love with its averseness.

To be honest, my first visit I was frustrated with this. Not knowing how to prepare for the day or the possibility of plans changing. The planner in me was livid with inability to fulfill her purpose. It didn’t take long to laugh at this absurd reality of mine. Want to know why? Read More

today

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

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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