leaves me heavy

I’ve been here before,
thinking this boy will make me

happy–we’ll have long talks about Jesus 

& life & everything 

will be fine. God, I am slow in learning to 

do the right thing & pull the cord from 

what is already dead will still break your 

heart. The process of letting go so You 

can have more or me
fmf: happy.

This week has been interesting. Not only have I been enjoying launching this book, I’ve been dealing with serious realizations God is on the pursuit of my heart. I’ve heard of this, but haven’t been too aware of it. 

From the beginning of the week, I’ve been stuck on this word: forbearance. I’ve been asking God, wait, isn’t that a fruit of your spirit? You wait on me? I can’t do this..  I’ve been feeling the nudge to let go of this boy who I let back into my life without really thinking anything would happen. 

Wrong. I’ve been watching myself get hurt and jealous (grossiest emotion ever), waving it off for the attention. And hoping just maybe he’d want to talk about Jesus as much as I do lately. But after this week and last week, I can’t change or force people to talk about Jesus (and love doesn’t force itself on you.) I don’t want to either.

So today, I let him go. And I’m terrified because I don’t want to turn back again. I think I’m always going to want to talk to him about Jesus, but I need to protect my heart. Admitting that is hard with the longing being so big and fearing Jesus can’t fill this hole.

But he is faithful to the faithless. And he is strong while I am weak. It’s amazing to see how he has a strong hold on me, when I think he’s left. Nope. He’s been waiting for me. And though this really hurts, this is a step forward I think.

What do you say?

“Like a dare to be happy?”
This was a question I was asked from a man painting the house. 
I shyly told him yes, because I knew no other way to explain this book while in the midst of it.
I wanted to say more. More than the research I found fascinating. Or how I found a love for making graphics with quotes, and showing him with a happiness I hadn’t felt in months. 

But I was too caught up in experiencing happiness, Experiencer being one of the five styles Jennifer shares about in this book. I was also maximizing my sweet spots of 2 styles I scored highest on: Relater and Giver. We ate some DQ fries and later talked about books we used to read. It was an experience I’ll not soon forget as I am not quick to open up. And the amazement at how my happiness had boosted.
If there was more I could say, I’d tell him, “thanks for fully eating your cake especially made for you from God and showing me it’s okay. We are allowed to be happy. Keep on spreading your slice of happiness.”
And for anyone looking to read this book, let me leave you with this quote from the very end:
Listen for his voice, now, that whisper in your ear: “Go on now, dig in, honey. It’s all yours!”
Who wants to take the dare and eat some more heavenly cake?

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

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.