find the tears fall.

God,

What is my worth to you? It isn’t in the things I do. Or don’t do. But maybe in the way I let myself hear, let me care for you. Care for me in the ways in the ways I need most for my soul. To sing to you, Lord, means more when I’m alone. Because I know in this quiet space with the cat, okay so maybe not alone, but absent people, I feel you sweep into the room. You are rushing to be near, to hear me open my mouth and proclaim to the closed window, I need you, I need you, I need you. I love you. And I 

fmf: worth

I sometimes hope that when I get to heaven, I’ll be like, God, Your love for me is fantastic. All the ways you pursued me through music. I felt like even in the broken body, the stillness at the table with the cat, You always found a way to make me dance inside and cry. It was beautiful. And now I can hear it forever here without ever turning it off and I can see your face now.

And he’ll smile and move in for a hug  because yes please and thank you ☺️🙋

But God seriously knows that I can lost in a song or artist for a while and I think I found a new one:

This drawing the cat finds better to sleep on is a visual for me to these lyrics: I know this might sound crazy/you’ve got the freedom to fail. – who cares–Carly Bannister (also, Ellie Holcomb’s sister. Serious talent and truth and good stuff from these two. Ugh.)

It’s like Jesus is singing it right into my soul. On a swing set.  To try and if I fail, it’s okay. It takes a long time for my heart to grasp things, especially that. I feel like I go slow enough the first time because I’m anxious to the point I don’t want to get it wrong or that I have to know things when I don’t. So this is basically like a reminder it’s okay to ask for help, need a friend. It’s okay to try again. 

And I really need to rest in that today. 

Help me, Jesus.

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want to trust you.

God,
I didn’t expect to say no. Or get the email. It feels so weird saying no to something I know won’t give me joy. Like I’m supposed to do it because if I’d like it as my job one day than that means I have to say yes to all the books. Every single one. But you know it will make my soul heavy. This is weird space. This no. This waiting. This peace. And yet feeling like maybe I just denied your blessing. But I don’t want to be pushed by the fear of missing out. And granted I’m tired and may not feel this way tomorrow and will immediately want to sign up, but I 
fmf: expect.

Today I said no to the opportunity to be on a launch team. It’s so weird in the space of: I don’t actually want to read this. Then: shouldn’t I want to read it? I mean, what if it’s really good? Then I’ll be missing out..and I don’t want to miss out. 

But it’s not like God hasn’t continued letting me do this, even when I’ve said no 3 other times within the last few months. 

I need to remember this. He is always faithful. In the waiting, wondering, hoping. He is faithful and I will not miss out on what he has, even if there’s waiting, tears and panic. Resting is good. I want his best.

 The only thing that we can see is darkness up ahead/But You’re asking us to lay our worry down and sing a song instead.

Looks like I’m singing this for awhile. Or all her songs. 😂

what’s underneath this ugly.

God,

This light and momentary affliction doesn’t compared to the future glory of Yourself You will display. Right? I want to believe in the midst of these slow beginnings of finding my voice. In the dark of places. It’s a little lonely and the way I feel my heart ache for You, I just hope You’ll come soon and show me. This anger and sorrow and rbrokenness is silly in the light of Your but I can’t seem to shed it. Like Sara Groves song about shedding this skin and leaving it on the ground. But you’ve seen 

Fmf: future

I just noticed I didn’t put “love” after “light of Your” — I know it’s a free write but sometimes I just want to have the words right. It’s like I write faster in my head.

God has been very kind this week and I would like to take a moment to write out some gratitude.

1. The way I’m pretty sure He’s making the fragrance of the flowers my sister gave me really come out in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. 

2. Pretty much goes along with number 1, but friends who listen to your broken heart and tell you it’s okay to be a mess and feel all your feelings and to tell God everything.

3. This morning when the cat seemed to move and lay on the book I’m reading or the bible..forcing me to get quiet and talk to God again. He knows I can’t resist her. Preciousness that she is.

4. Watching Miss You Already on Hulu and feeling sad one minute, happy the next for the depth of this friendship and family and the way it endures through this woman’s battle with cancer. I really didn’t know it had to do with cancer but  I read the blurb about friendship and was like, yes please. The mom of the woman with cancer breaks her out of hospice so she can be there for her best friend having her first baby and I’m all: 😍😭😭. I can’t get the movie out of my head. Watch it.

5. God’s patience and love while I get used to being His Beloved and find my voice again. Or maybe the first time. It is terrifying. And good.
And because I can’t leave a post without sharing Sara’s song, here you go. ☺️

sound so sad 

God, come here again. Give me a visit from a smiling friend. Wrap me up gently in your arms for I am tired. So tired. But i keep rising up to sit here and wait for you to come. To lift my eyes to your eyes, they are filled with so much compassion and mercy. I don’t care much why notes don’t sound the same – whybtheyball

Fmf: visit.

It’s so weird that five minute Friday will have it’s own space starting next week. It’s good. The change will take some getting used to though. 

I’m really trying to find the humor in my “whybtheyball” or what I’m even talking about in this letter except that I’m tired and want time with a friend in person or God or both. I was writing to music so I think I got lost in it for a minute. Shocker. 

Today in Whispers of Rest by Bonnie Gray, there’s a challenge for today’s devotional to do something that makes me smile. Typically music makes me feel happier, but today not so much. It just made me really focus on the suggested songs that played, both from psalm 130 about the depths of despair and waiting.
God, please help me to wait on You because I’m losing hope. And yet still holding on. You will restore all the locusts have eaten and are doing more than I ask or think even when I don’t acknowledge it or can’t see it. I know it’s okay to cry out because David did, but it’s hard for me right now because I’m tired of crying and waiting and confusion. Thank you the stuffed and candy my sister just brought me back from the zoo. Help me keep praising you. Thank you. Amen.


Yes, panda, we’re going to the watering Word. 

me personally enough I want to trust You.

Lord,

The truth is I’m tired. Tired of trying, pushing, waiting, aching, hurting. And yet, I find myself in the shower tonight worshipping You. What else am I supposed to do? If it is a test, all these things that keep happening and this distance I feel for people, friends I dearly love and yet at others times feel so close to, I still want to believe the best right now. I still want to believe You can restore things to better than before. You can make me smile. Again. You can touch 

fmf: truth.

I want to do this big commentary about how I’m tired of myself and in general but I’m just going to put this verse I read in proverbs last night (I can’t believe I made it to Proverbs in my bible in a year plan. It’s awesome and shocking) because focusing on Jesus is better. And it is too easy to sink in sorrow right now.

“The blessing of the LORD brings [true] riches, And He adds no sorrow to it [for it comes as a blessing from God].”

‭‭PROVERBS‬ ‭10:22‬ ‭AMP‬

I totally want to see this and also I’m little confused as to why it says God as no sorrow to the blessing because it comes Him. It really makes me wonder yet again, You’re always happy, God? But you suffer with us? But you are love so it delights you to bless me when I’m sad or happy or mad or whatever because that’s who you are: good at your center. Hmm.

mom

God,

I love mom. I really do not know how she does it. Okay, well I know it’s because of You, but I don’t get how she pours out so much when right now I’m not the kindest. At all. I mean, she watched me lose it on a friend and then promptly cry because I can’t do friendship right. I hurt and ache and gahh. She’s the one who has watched me break again and again. And when her mom passes, she’s the one giving me comfort when I should of been the one comforting her. What kind of love is that? Your love I’m sure. But sometimes I wish I wasn’t so weepy. I wish I could heal her pain. How can I honor her in the best way? Can I give her a thousand hugs or call her Sompingme and let the way she says it back make me smile and say, it can be a real Somp sometimes? 
I love that we have our own language that no one understands at all. And that she wants me to love life even though I’m afraid. Very, very afraid. I’m stuck in fear, God. I push too hard and now we are here. I never mean to lose my cool with her – I’ve always been the positive one. Not the one who’s like, there’s no point. I’m not good enough. But her hugs make me feel home. The constant texts I sometimes send to remind her she is loved and I’m thankful for all she does –like letting me sing Ellie Holcomb on a constant repeat and singing with me –draw me closer to your heart, God. The way she cares about flowers and will bring one to me so I know you are close. That she wants me to sit and read directions for a recipe or shuck corn or put away silverware. 
They are so small compared to what she does, has done for me. Her presence makes a difference in my life. So much so that I know that’s why I teared writing that last sentence. I don’t know how to adequately tell her, I love you, without feeling like my entire insides will fall to the floor. I mean my heart. I just want to cry and cry and cry. Because all I see is You, Abba..in her and all the moms you’ve put in my life.
I don’t know how to say thank You anyway else. 
Love,

Your child

Fmf: mom.

I wrote this way past five minutes. But it’s kinda hard for me to stop with this prompt. My mom is well, a Somp, and this week, I’ve seen yet again how much I love she got me all hooked on Call the Midwife (people, that show is 😭😍 if anyone wants to get me the memoirs the show is based off of so I can devour them, just thank you.), and has been singing Ellie Holcomb after I turn it off. And trying to get me to see, she dislikes that I’m so afraid of life. Not the sorrow, but the joy. And listens to all of my pain.

I love you, mom. I can’t put it any other way than that. You do so much for me.

Like this:

You helped me to memorize the verse by painting it, and showed me it’s okay to make mistakes, you just improvise. It’s the same when you cook, too.Thank you for always singing along to Ellie’s music with me – it makes me happier than I can understand. Thank you for making sure I sleep (I’m sorry I was so against naps when I was young) and understanding when I don’t and then get twisty. Thank you for letting me help you even in the smallest ways right now, with silverware and handing you clothes hangers and grocery lists. Thank you for getting me a blizzard from DQ. Thank you for encouraging me with this conference and when I’ve gone into full drawing or writing mode. 

And most of all thank you for believing in me when I can’t. I don’t understand this path God has me on, or why it feels like all my dreams are dead, but I love you for believing I’ll come alive again. Thank you for showing you can come alive with the way you love and care for plants. It’s a real Somp sometimes, but I’m glad you always manage to make me laugh.

Please remember it’s okay for you to laugh too. It brightens your face. 🙂

I love you,

Old Sport.

at tears within me.

God,

I’ve lost my mind. Really. Can someone be this emotional? I never said I wanted a child. Well, with Michael I did. Not for right reasons though. I was so overcome with the fact he thought I could write or that I could raise someone. A baby. I am one, you know? My emotions are all over the place. I can’t stop touching the incision, the place where there will be a scar. God, I should trust you with this healing. I am afraid of what’s on the other side. I want to be held now, so tightly. I want to be told everything will be alright and weep wh

FMF: should.

So, I’m trying something new: writing letters to God in actual paragraphs. This is as close as I got in 5 minutes. I don’t think it’s that bad. I honestly thought it would be a poem. I’m so used to breaking up my words that putting them together is weird and almost foreign.  

Everything feels that way. This letter is about my recovery of healing from a hysterectomy. I’ve wanted to write about this for awhile, but have felt afraid. I don’t how to articulate the sorrow, the way I saw God show me His face. The compassion of the nurses and the way I learned as much as I want to talk, so does everyone else. There was a night nurse I learned this from. We all long to be heard.

She fed me jello and lingered with me when other patients needed her. We talked (well, I don’t know how much talking I did with my medicine loopiness) about books and TV. She told me about buzz lightyear and woody. I immediately smiled when she said she got her nephew a pull string Woody. Her smile was glorious. What I felt in my heart to be heard, noticed and seen, I saw in her eyes. 

It showed me how when God wants to spend time with us even in very difficult circumstances, it isn’t a “hey, do this for me, would you?” It’s more, hey, I wouldn’t mind if you asked me questions and I share my heart with you. I don’t always want you to do something. I want to be with you. And you with me.

All I’ve thought about since coming home from the hospital is, how does a woman leave her children to go take care of others who may or may not acknowledge her? And do it with such joy, patience and kindness at 12 AM, 2 AM…? It was Jesus right before me as I was weak and sad and alone, but when He spoke, something quieted. I just wanted to stay there with the ginger ale and the jello, the smile.

Presence changes everything, especially when you’re still enough to appreciate not only the receiving, but the giving of ears to listen too.

I could go on, but it will make me cry most likely too. Learning a lot about myself lately. Like this:

 

And this:


I’m on the launch team for this new devotional book from Bonnie & ughh, so good. There’s probably going to be more graphics and rambles until I review later this month, so look out for those. ☺️

All this aside, the fact that I’ve been afraid to write here and this came out clearly shows the lie I’ve been believing I’m not a writer with no purpose is just that: a lie. Oh Lord, let Your light and love be my trust. My hope. All these new things that feel risky, You will continue to light the way and keep my feet from slipping. You will uphold me with Your unfailing love. Support me. And when my emotions swirl and spill before You, may Your comforts delight me. Thank You for healing me today.