truth: all is well.

At this table

again, I sit. I

look out the window

and catch a glimpse 

of a leaf I mistake for

a bird pass by. My question

rises again: are you personal,

God? How far have I fallen? I can’t feel 

 you holding me still.

I crave to be in arms i know where all is 

quiet & I don’t need

the answer but to hear the tr

fmf: crave.

Between yesterday and today, there have been some water works over thinking God is not personal, surrendering what I thought I didn’t really want but actually did. And having to give up control. And sit in the wait and see God is right there. He didn’t leave and he’s not angry about my desire to be helpful and knowing I need him so much. To be wrapped in his love. I just want to soak myself in His word. Sometimes I wish surrender didn’t hurt, that there was such joy. And I seem get stuck in the pain and anger and sorrow, I can’t see how giving it up will help. Or how I can acknowledge them and give them up. Have a long way to go in maturity.

Disappointment hurts especially when you don’t get why, but I’m holding onto this: “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.”  ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41:10‬ ‭NLT‬‬.

And this.

give quietness of heart

On a love seat 

in a hotel room,

I sit. A fan blows

to my right while

to my left music plays 

I can’t make out. A door

opens. Wheels moves.

Feet. God, I’m tired &

weary, but somehow 

still present. Today,

I will visit a friend I’ve 

not seen in months,

years & I will wonder 

what the wait has done

for my heart. The surrender 

to 

fmf: surrender.

Surrender. Very interesting prompt for today. After surrendering to my fear yesterday and being still, waiting, God gave me yet another opportunity to the thing I still struggle with: asking for help. It was weird how after writing this poem, He swoops in with something he only could’ve planned. As I sit here, realizing how well he knows me (this I’m sure is going to be life long), how he knows I’m scared and wondering when, the littlest thing makes me 😭 or 😮. More 😮 than anything else. And because I’m tired and don’t have a whole to say, other than I shouldn’t even be afraid of God or worried he’s forgotten me at all, I’m going to leave this.

Heal me deep within, God.

rings to my throne room

What can I here, today,

LORD? The help from 

my sister up the stairs,

the ask if I’d like chocolate 

milk, the eggo waffles put in

front of me. This breeze blows

& I watch the leaves fall to the ground. 

Are you unveiling me too? 

How much I need to see You enjoy me, 

LORD? You laugh

over me, you sing, this child is mine, oh I 

delight in everything she b

fmf: enjoy.

I totally meant to put “enjoy” at the beginning but realized I didn’t half way through. This week has been I don’t even know. Hard. Hard to be in the moment & then once you are, something comes and derails your spirit. The liar comes and whispers that this is it, whatever you experienced last week, forget that. You still struggled. You still were afraid to ask for help, too much. Don’t want to be a burden. And then you want to hide away and shut all people out. But Jesus continues to whisper: this isn’t the end. And friends check on you. They send out scripture in the middle of the night and tell you they’d like to hug you and you don’t have to fight this depression alone and they are praying for you. Even people you don’t know well are praying. And they are listening. And your cat is kneading you, and pawing the door at night to come in and though you don’t let her in, she still stays close. Really when you are in the valley and have no clue where you are going, Jesus is tightly holding on to you even when you’re not sure, don’t take the time to really SEE he is good.

Please help me see this truth over and over, Abba. Especially now when I went to let go.

Make me lol. and see I am loved. Thank you for being so faithful. 

this is not the end

Hello Lord,

maybe it is 

common to cry 

when you are going

home–it is not crying,

welling. Welling, as I listen 

to stare out the window & 

watch sun fall below my view,

as I go back into the dark unknown. 

Listening as You

tell me: I love you. You can be

sad. I’m not letting go, but you 

must know 
Fmf: common

I don’t know how to explain how I’m feeling right now, except I hurt. This is a poem about leaving Texas this week. From walking into Trisha’s house to hummus her niece Claudia made (so good). Being asked by Joshua to play Rummy and instead playing Go Fish, because I have no clue how to play rummy.  To Sam, who took every opportunity to stand or try to stand on my cane because you know, it’s fascinating. And having no power to say no because his eyes and smile are 😍 and that curly hair. And how he held my walker for me when getting out the car. I seemed to leave my phone behind constantly, stayed up late rambling on (because my nerves turned into excitement and pumpkin spice latte was all: Julia, you ready to stay up?!) about life and Jesus.

This trip reminded me a lot about how love is patient & kind. How it will stay up late for/with you, how it will remind you it is okay to ask for help, nothing to be nervous about. How it remembers. How it listens. How it asks for your thoughts. How it laughs. How it yearns to comfort. Help. And you know, give you chocolate chip cookies and  pieces of left over Halloween candy. And popcorn. And kale salad (sooo gooood.)  

And how time slows down when you’re fully present & not panicked this is it, time is running out. It felt like an abundance was given when I stared at the sky or walked or laughed or listened.

It all felt so precious. So different than what I’m used to, which is sobbing because it’s over, this time because I said, I’m getting sad, God seemed to guard my heart and give subtle hints this wasn’t it. Still doesn’t take away that I miss Joshua and Sam playing tag in the morning. Or listening to Claudia break out in song. I never expected to fall in love with someone’s kids. Or for the most part feel more myself than the scared little girl who’s afraid to ask. It felt okay to laugh. It felt like I’ve been there before. Like I’ve been friends with Trisha way longer. And her husband, Michael’s bursts of laughter always took me aback.

I feel like it was a welcome and a linger. A homey feeling that still is lasting coming back into my unknown. But I do know Jesus’ love for me is keeping a firm gentle hold.


I didn’t expect to write all this, but Jesus knew since all my thoughts are 😭😶😞🙈😮🎉🎉 helps me process. There’s more but need to let them simmer. I love Jesus so much for who he’s put in my life.

be found in Yours still.

On this journey,

I don’t know where

I am going. I know it is

new, a wide open space

I can walk through. A voice

speaks behind me, this is the 

way I want you to go. This voice, so calm 

& so sure, with

light beaming all around. How

could I not trust His intentions 

even as still don’t know. Abba,

please don’t let me go. May my

right hand

Fmf: Journey.

This week I’ve learned two things: I can cry at the truth. Or laugh. The crying part came from one sentence in a text: Julia, will you please just let God bless you? (It actually isn’t written this way, but that’s how i read it. The weeping that came and the heaviness in my heart, whoa. I don’t understand my refusal to let God bless me, well, actually, yes I do. All I’ve done and the pain I’ve experienced. You can’t possibly want to give me this when you know my heart, God. When you know I tend to look for someone to take care of me and can easily turn them into an idol. I’ve gotten used to being alone with you and trying to tell you or crying because I so easily turn away. I cry because I want to see you. I need you. And maybe this is typical of being on the threshold of something new, you panic. Well, you don’t God, but I do. The panic really shows me my need for you. And I heard somewhere that anywhere you are is my comfort zone. So, when I get on the plane next week, you will be there. When I get off, you will be there. When I say hi to this friend finally not through text or phone calls, you will be there. You know the desires you placed in my heart that I still don’t understand, but make me all: WHAT IS GOING ON? What is with this peace?! And I don’t have to know because I think if I did, I’d still be hesitant. But I really have to thank you for how you’ve given me the courage to ask and a father who seems to be very excited to take me. It’s very interesting how You do things. Oh and if you want to surprise me any more because this is a big one to me, go ahead. Delight away.

And the laughing part is that apparently to Megan (who told me to let God bless me. She’s a really good friend, she is. Let’s me just ramble on..and then gets me with some truth. She really knows how to sharpen me 😉), I write A LOT. It’s funny because I don’t actually notice until I go back through stuff. With the amount of journals I’ve gone through this year (5-6 I think), it’s a lot. And if you let me, I’ll write novelish texts and emails. 😂 God has given me some seriously awesome friends who are fine to take this. I’m glad he doesn’t mind either.☺️

This is very novel like. Well, sorta. I think I take fmf to tmf (ten minute Friday. Maybe more. Lol)

The Wisdom of a Silly Old Bear — Meg Lynch

If you know me, you know how much I LOVE WINNIE THE POOH BEAR. I may or may not still sleep with the stuffed Pooh my bro gave me upon my arrival to this planet. Who wouldn’t love Pooh? His giggle is infectious; his diet is role-model-worthy, and his friends are the absolute best. AND […]

via The Wisdom of a Silly Old Bear — Meg Lynch

“You are courageous, even when you don’t feel it.

You can do this, even if you don’t think you can.

You have what it takes to make it through this, even if you don’t know it yet.

You might not be able to tell, but you’re doing a lot better than it seems.”

This. I really needed to know all this today, especially being courageous and making it through. ☺️ Maybe you do too. And now I have the Winnie the Pooh song in my head lol.

And makes me think of this: Proverbs 16:24 Kind words are like honey— sweet to the soul and healthy for the body. ❤️

by the trinity 

In the morning,

I sit at the table 

& eat a chocolate cake

donut. The three chairs 

around me are empty–

Abba, I imagine You across,

with open hands & a smile.

I think You are asking me to

open my hands or give them 

to You. Receive. Jesus is to my 

left, Holy Spirit to my right. He 

wants to grab my hand, to pray

with me. They are quiet, heads 

bowed. I’m held tightly 

fmf: eat.

This poem is a little different in the way I felt I was experiencing this again. The calm. The way I felt like the Holy Spirit really reached out and held my hand, the right, weaker one of the two. The way Abba sat across and smiled with a knowing glance that said, you can open up. You can receive all I want to give you. 

God is moving me into new places it feels like. With my writing. (This was really, REALLY difficult to write. The memories were foggy, but the ache of how Jesus loved me was overwhelming. So overwhelming. With taking to Him about how I’m feeling without trying to hide. And with friends. Letting my heart come out, still unsure if I’m loved.

And then there is this reminder from Tim Tebow’s new book, Shaken, that hit me like a ton of bricks last night:

I can’t help but feel God is bringing something new, despite all the chaos and anger and sadness, things I can’t let go of. I can’t see the future and the fact things are always foggy is beginning to wear on my soul. I want to be in moments. I don’t know how to do that without assuming sadness/anger is all there is to hold. I know it’s not true, but sigh.

God, you make all things new. Beautiful in their time and joy. Laughter. Depth. Hope. Love. Please oh please show me this true. That is joy coming around the bend and I can soak it in. Because I want to stay with you, but I also don’t want to deny that what you’ve been bringing lately isn’t from you. You know, like the butterflies that keep me thinking we’re going to fly soon. Or Juno, who keeps plopping herself down in my lap. Or all these other things, one in particular that is so overwhelming it doesn’t seem real yet. Please show me this doesn’t have to be so hard to take. Please. In Jesus name, amen.

***

I realize this commentary has nothing to do with food. Soul is on a little of an overload lately. Thankful God lets me write and cry and get angsty.🙂