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 


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 ๐Ÿ˜ญ or ๐Ÿ˜ฎ. More ๐Ÿ˜ฎ 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 ๐Ÿ˜ 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 ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ถ๐Ÿ˜ž๐Ÿ™ˆ๐Ÿ˜ฎ๐ŸŽ‰๐ŸŽ‰ 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 ๐Ÿ˜‰), 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. ๐Ÿ˜‚ God has given me some seriously awesome friends who are fine to take this. I’m glad he doesn’t mind either.โ˜บ๏ธ

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