3/4/18

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Day 77

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God,

I’m tired. Two times I felt that fear that likes to steal my breath today. In hopes of receiving a text (all those girly feelings I forget I have. I know it’s fine, Lord, but it scares me I have them) and in answering a text. Two different people. Two different circumstances, but the fear still feels like it wants to choke me. But I read the verse this morning that says I don’t have to be afraid because You are by my side. I won’t be shaken. Lord, in one of the texts I’m watching myself be open while in another I’m closing. Quiet. It’s better than over sharing my heart. At least that’s how it feels right now.

Gratitude for today:

-Grapes/strawberries for breakfast

-Talking with uncle scott

The sunshine

Hummus/carrots/peppers

-talking with Raechel

The message from Lisa

-Being able to give mom a late birthday

-Watching Gilmore girls and that movie with mom

-Plans to see a wrinkle in time or The Greatest Showman with Kelly maybe next weekend. (hello anticipatory happiness)

-Dad giving me peppers and Brussel sprouts

-No Filter – Britt Nicole

-megan’s text

Thank You for understanding my heart, Lord. I need you. To feel Your arms around me. The gentleness of Your presence.

Love,
Your Tendered-haired

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1/7-8/18

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Days 44-45

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God,

I’ll be alright. 

I may be confused 

by Your silence (maybe 

just me), but You are still

patient & kind. You are still 

holding out Your hand, ready

to twirl me round & round. Because what 

is better but to dance in gratitude? You 

teach me to be grateful that I am not

in control, even if I’d like to be. 

Yes, I’m in control of my tongue & 

thoughts but only You can say when

things start & end. When to give & take 

away. Only You come right on time with 

open arms with enough love 

to engulf all that is broken. Only You 

make everything beautiful again. Only 

You can sing a love song medley that 

calms all my fears. Tells me it will be 

alright. You will be holding my hand. You 

will be my light. What a friend, You are. 

The way You listen to my fear. I don’t 

know where we are going, Abba. I am 

afraid of love – that kind where my soul is 

find in the reflection of another. It is 

going to be alright – to know the current 

underneath my skin of fear –

I’m not alone here. I’m allowed

to not know what is going to happen, but

I can trust You,

Father, You know what I need 

when I need it. You get the glory. And I 

get to rest in Your favor & say, that’s my 

daddy. 

Let it be,

Your tender haired girl

Previous letter found here

life again.

Lord, I am 
weak, as I watch 

myself turn a shade 

of sorrow, blue for what

will be missing soon. But,

what does that matter when 

I have You? When I can tell You

my greatest fear–to be taken home

before my time, before I am ready. It’s 

taking away of my ability to give birth. 

But I can’t cry. I can tremble and feel 

tears willing spill. But the perspective 

needs a shift–maybe this way I can lean 

heavy upon the shoulder who

gives life and takes away breath. Abba, I 

want to be 

dance the way I see in my head. I want to 

be brought to 
Fmf: weak.

I cheated a little while writing this. because my name was called and apparently when I started the timer wasn’t set. 

I’ve been coloring in my bible most of the day: 

Can we just focus on the “faithful God who lavishes unfailing love” for awhile. I just want list some of the ways He has lavished it on since I found out the date of my hysterectomy earlier this week (I fought it long and hard for months..and I gave in because as much as I’ve loved having what seemed to be the longest on/off period (it’s always been weird) last year so I could chill and be with Jesus, I realize it’s not normal and I shouldn’t be afraid to be ask for help even if i think I’m totally fine just letting life go on. And if I’m honest, I’m totally still kind of okay with just letting myself be a complete crazy person to me and I’m sure to family and friends). This is very scary to me. Because it’s not only facing my fear of death (I know it’s a surgery and I’ll be asleep, but my fear of Jesus just be like, okay time to go. is a real thing. Which really shows me my view of Jesus is a little screwy, or a lot still.)

It’s also facing the loss of the ability to have a child. Well, beyond adoption. And this brings a host of questions like, do I want to get married? Will I? I’m also helping launch a book, The Heart of Marriage, about celebrating life together and struggles of marriage. It came out on Valentine’s Day. A lot of the quotes from stories really have stuck out like, Seek First. Love will have the last word. Love will not fail. And this: 

I’m still trying to process it, but for me it really says something about holding on. And that it was I’m trying to do with Jesus through this waiting, and inevitable fear that keeps weighing on my heart a bit. Or a lot.

I don’t know why I’ve decided to get this vulnerable here. Maybe it’s not. But I need t9 process it. So onto the list:

1. This daffodil in my bible my mom brought me because I have a thing for flowers lately.


2. The lunchable offered by my dad

3. And one of three candy bars my sister gave me.

4. And her reassurance not to be afraid.

5. JEWELia (curtesy of Megan)

6. A long talk with Gwen. And her reassurance that is a okay to bawl.

7. An invite from my friend, Deanna to be on another launch team and getting to invite 2 more friends.

8. One who now will be able to lend me kindle books because she’s awesome like that. (Antelope in the Room, I’m coming for you. 😂).

9. Avocado sandwiches. 

10. Skit Guys new podcast!

11. Sunshine in my eyes.

12. Living Water by Ellie Holcomb. Ughh. 🙋  (can’t link but buy the album and I promise you won’t be disappointed.)
I’m going to end this by asking for prayer to keep my eyes peeled for God here. And not be consumed about the surgery (April 14th.) I know he is faithful.

with forgiving silence

I walk in the door,
turn on the light & look
up. the bulb has burn-

ed out. well, this is
more intimate—I
can’t help wanting

tell You truth I’m
keeping, a secret
my body trembles

admit: I want sorrow
closer than blessed
(happy)ness given

to pure in heart.
I know too well taste
of tears, salt for thought

passing through nights.
no one understands me.
i can’t believe i did that.

oh Jesus, I shouldn’t be
joyous, please condemn
me. look at how human

I am! the past shadows
fall—Jesus, did I do that?
Or is my flesh flaring up

in war—my eyes
silently drawing down
surrender to sleep

without use

yes, I know
Your goodness
& mercy have sought
me up until this day.
Jesus, the nightmare
that came with a gun
feet away from my heart—
did You hold me closer
because it is just a dream?
right? i don’t know how to drive,
let alone control my own life.
the family & friends told me good
bye, while I tried gripping the break,

fmf prompt: yes. dreams that pay out parts of your life where you’ve felt out of control, which apparently is every single area. and you’re crying to someone to help, but he’s holding a gun, so you crawl to a public bathroom and a bathroom and hide. you get happy texts from a friend saying she’d love to see you & you should get food, but this is a emergency: you didn’t listen to another friend and now her car is damaged and you didn’t mean to hit the break.

you don’t even now how you switched to the driver’s seat and how you almost jumped out to save yourself from oncoming traffic. and how did the car wind up forward? across the street? Must be God. And in the bathroom an older lady finds you in the stall and says: talk slower, sweetie. WHY DONT YOU GO BACK TO GOD! HIS WORD! HE’S THE ONE! and she sounds mad and you’re backing away until you disappear into the wall.

the weird thing is ever since I was young, I’ve had a reoccurring dream, i’m rolling backwards down an exit ramp, until crash into a water tower we used to live by. everything goes black always. i know it’s either because i want to control my life or i feel out of control. i’m really feeling both . i’ve even been telling God I know i don’t have it  but i don’t understand why envy won’t leave me, why when i’m most off my guard or i i spend time with You, the Devils all, look what you don’t have, hahahahaha!

And God says, You’re still in my presence. I’m wisely and tenderly (with major emphasis on this) leading you. then i start to cry or stare off and wonder if I’ve lost it completely. Sigh. I need Him so much/

*all below the poem is crazy rambles and not part of the fmf prompt*

crying Your name

i should’ve known
better to give ear
to condemnation.

in the dark, i hear
my door swing sudden,
what are you doing?!

i turn from the wall—
the door never opened,
nut the pointer finger

still upon me.
i turn back in
my smallness

covering me quiet
under a blanket shame
you bear with me.

Apparently when you start getting real close to God, the Devil is all: “Hey, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU SGOULD’T BE SLEEPING. YOU NEED TO MAKE SURE HE’S COMING FOR YOU…& DOESNT LOOK THAT WAY!” And then you start feeling real small/ You hide under blankets because God can’t love you after what those thoughts led to earlier. Even though you cried and said you were sorry and asked forforgivenes, you don’t want to be touched by the lover of your soul. You feel so dirty. 3 times now this has gone on. 3 nights of the past shadows and succumbing each time.

and you want to weep. too tired, but you stay awale because you feel you are losing time again. youu know that’s a lie too. But the liar won’t shush. a verse says to thank my friend, because He is faithful/ You stare at the: “His love endures forever.”

Thank you Jesus for letting me come to brokenness, to know how I hurt you, how you’re grieved. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I keep becoming allured by the memory of Michael, the lust for another man who isn’t mine anymore. You are. You know the desires are deeper than skin. It’s the heart connection I long for. The late night talks beyond my body. I want to see your kindness. The way you are patient & kind. The way you never fail. The way you love me in my smallness.

I am so blind & afraid you could hurt me. And that this longing for a boyfriend, or closer friends, or books makes me more afraid. because i see you in distance and sometimes up close, but you always seem to gone in a flash.

And I can’t strive anymore. You aren’t going to see me anymore than you already do. I’m already freaking out about sharing all this. But please, have mercy on me I’m such a mess who longs for the gentle touch of your love.

(wow..)

that’s what you were saying

Jesus doesn’t show himself laughing to many,

she told me over the phone
on my 24th birthday.

he is reassuring you,

she continued through
questioning silence

I gave. I sat in room

unfamiliar, wide with 
loneliness. how could

you laugh, Lord, when

I spent so many days 
staring at your sympathy 

portrayed in inspired artwork?

your hand was pressed to your
heart–I am grieved for you,

my child. I swore fear caught 

my breath every time I dared 
stare a little than I wanted.

you were the sad God & I, 

the girl grasping happiness
at dead ends. the boy

I begged stay around,

please, please, I bought 
you a phone card. Promise

you’ll call tomorrow. Or performance 

I burrowed my heart below, so no
one knew my creviced heart.

I believed you always saddened,

laughter furthest from lips divine.
I sin & repent, your smile shining 

same. Your arms open same

distance from my troubled brow.
don’t you want to dance,

sway back & forth in celebration 

undeserved? don’t you want
laughter cracking open 

your tight lipped demeanor 

you’ve announced yourself 
forever wearing? I came

so you may live again–come,

come! there’s room for you 
by my side, darling.
inspired by this. My grandma had this picture of Jesus on the wall. For many years, it’s made me wonder if he’s always sad. With the name, “man of many sorrows,” it’s been difficult for me to imagine Jesus sitting back with friends laughing & enjoying life. It says so in His Word, he didn’t just cry. He enjoyed meals. Weddings. 

Last year, I had a dream the night before my birthday, where I walked with the laughing Jesus in a field. I knew I was holding his hand, but my vision was blurry. I knew he was laughing even though the dream was silent. I kept wanting to ask him what was so funny, but he keep walking with me and laughing. I was confused.

My grandma told me not many people see the laughing side of Jesus and this was reassurance. He was with me.

I think there was more to it. He isn’t the sad or angry God I’ve grown believing in. He’s life. Life isn’t only sadness or anger. It’s joy, too.

I so easily forget this. Because God is love. And love is patient and kind. He doesn’t boast in himself. He rejoices over us.

He hopes we’ll believe this.

And he’ll continue leading us in love, through the brokenness to happiness.