You are still worthy 

God, here we are 

again. The sun is 

shining out the kitchen 

window. The cat lays in 

front of my space so I cannot

physically write. It is not the same cat, 

but still shows me

You are faithful. Yahweh, you

are my provider, you are doing

everything for your own good pleasure–

some might say delight. God, it takes 

work 

to remember right now in this 

moment You are still good even 

I lose control, have to wait, things seem 

to be being taken 

away 

fmf: work

Right now, this song is playing. I love that it fits in with the prompt. 😂 I think God may have done that with a purpose. Every time I hear this, I’m always somehow telling God: 🙋 yes, no more drama to mess up my flow! I want to go on a holiday! Let’s go! 

But then I think if I went on a holiday, I would like it a little too much. Maybe. My brain needs a holiday from the thoughts that seek get me in a feedback loop of: did I really do, say that? Ugh, Lord, I don’t deserve your love. Can I just stay right here and not move? I don’t know why I’m doing this anymore. Why am I going again? I don’t understand this, Jesus! I need to be still and relax. I need to be still, not so pushy. How about we just talk forever. Jesus. 

This week has been hard. Tiring. Vulnerability is tiring. Wanting to pray for everyone is tiring/good (maybe not always necessary when you are tired and God knows your heart. Wanting to see and savor the good is hard when you’d rather push it away and ignore it, doesn’t mean God doesn’t still say, hey, I’m over here. 

It doesn’t mean I can’t still ask and wonder why, how can this be? Are you sure I can keep asking for things, but mostly to see you more and that’s okay?

I can keep reading your word and question it. Like the guy at the banquet table who isn’t wearing wedding clothes and is asked to leave or put where there is suffering. And the King says, many are called but few are chosen. 

Was the guy chosen? Provided wedding clothes? Are you not allowed to come to the King as you are? Is it specially selected clothing that sets these selected guesses apart? Why did the previous guests say no? I say no a lot.. But I mean, it’s a BANQUET. The food has to be top notch for a king. There’s probably pie..and cake..and bread..and garlic mashed potatoes because they are my favorite. And bosco sticks because cheese in bread sometimes is okay. And really it isn’t so much about the food and God looking at me and saying, hey girl, I love you. Won’t you enjoy this feast with me and stop worrying. I love you. Still. 

God, your eyes are so sparkly and twinkly.     I don’t want to look away. Even though it scares me. This intimacy. This love you have for me. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. Every breath. Every heartbeat. It is I love you, Julia. Not less because of the thoughts you had five minutes ago that I’m taking away from you. Not what you say or do. I love you because I do. You can fight and push me away, stare at me and ask me why why why? I don’t deserve this. Look at how pushy and vulnerable I am, how I long to be with you at a table and read, sing, talk to you all day long when I should want to do something. But I want to be, held, loved. Something that is so deep i don’t even get it. Lord. 

You know it all, and yet you love me still. 

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om home?

You collect my tears in

a bottle. Maybe it’s green,

as the jealousy You have for

me. I wonder today, if You put

some of Your own tears in this

bottle to overflow, so that I may 

know how wide You love me. Abba, You 

are on my side, this 

I know. & my enemies will run 

when I call to You for help, but I 

do not know what to say anymore except, whee did I go?

where have all my dreams flown & why do I feel so far away fr

fmf: collect.

So this week, a book was published with stories from five minute friday. This has been a tough thing for me. Because when I joined the community, I wasn’t really looking to write more. Circumstances were so rough and I was confused and hurting. But a friend was like, here, you should try this. (May not have been exact words but eh it’s okay.) I’ve watched it carry me from a move, to my grandma passing away, to another move, and a move back over the summer. And maybe the shock is that I’ve stayed with it for almost two years now, or the community really feels like family, or the fact that seeing my name as Julia Sparrows here instead of my real last name when I published my own book shortly after joining fmf, was the most hilarious thing. Like a gift from God, who must really like to laugh, watch me laugh, and knows that this is so much sweeter among people than on my own.

This community has taught me the power of encouragement & love. I hope you see that if you check the book out. 🙂

(d) as You bring the rain 

LORD, your voice 
comes through the

thunder & I tremble–

I look up & see the clouds

have hidden the blue. Is this 

the same as You have hidden

my sorrow? In the blood you shed on the 

cross–I don’t know 

how much longer I can wait, but 

I’m keeping still & knowing You are God. 

The One who calls me by name and 

knows the numbers on my head. Stay 

with me, Lord. Hold my han

fmf: hidden.

I’ve thought this week that God has hidden his face from me; despair has had kind of, okay no, a tight grip on me. But through the times I’ve started crying, became mad at myself because my heart is so twisty, and I want to be better, been afraid of temptation that I’ve given into and one I was able to see how God provided a way out by praying instead of diving into it like I generally would; God has been holding me tighter.

Like with this song repeating in my head each morning it seems.

In the morning, You are faithful!

In the evening, You are faithful!

In the noonday, You are faithful to me!

These lyrics play like a record in my head. I’m so thankful He won’t let me go, hasn’t, and just like the song says, is faithful to the end. 🙂

where you are whole

breathe in –

I will love you

lavishly, lift up

your head, answer

you & satisfy. Oh,

beloved, till the end 

of time I will look on,

after, at you the same: 

with compassion. I have

heard you say, I had a dream.

what? when? why? are you sure me? I 

want to help her, but I don’t understand 

it. the peace. why my insides feel as if 

may burn me alive. If this is what it 

means to wrap my around Your name–

Abba, the patience You ask of me

while I sit at Your blessed feet–Go and 

sin no more. No more doubt. No more 

fear. No more shame. I am with you here. 

I am holding you up, in this longing, in 

this wait I am loving you. From this 

valley, you are growing up toward the 

spring sky. My April baby, don’t you see 

I’ve heard your cry, cradle me, Daddy. 

Awaken me from under

the apricot tree, bring me into Your

arms & tell me again, here’s my heart. 

It’s known to beat for you alone; I’ve 

loved you first so you may see-the words 

in a maternal tone with gentleness, care 

& concern-Me

Abba, I am thankful for how you hold me together with the utmost care when I literally am going crazy in my head to You. And I can’t cry or anything else. I have to sit literally still and know that You are my Abba. Who woos me to create when I have no strength and tired and crabby as a child is. Who takes care of me when I don’t want to take care of me. And who is my warrior mother, who cheers me on and defends me like nobody’s business. This is how you come to me and hold me and I’m just so thankful you get me and are here because without you, I’m pretty sure, I’d give up by now. But oh, how you lift up my face. 
In other news: Brazen is probably one of the most fun launches I’ve been a part of so far. I’m pretty I’ve made 2 friends, one who has been on EVERY SINGLE LAUNCH TEAM I’ve been on so far with this manager and God just likes to surprise at the most interesting times. I’ve never laughed or smiled so much to God. It’s hilarious.

Collages are stressful and so much fun. I get to make a Brazen board of all shamelessly unapologetic things. Like my desire to stand on a beach and look at the water. Really it’s to go on a road trip, but working what I have right now. And to be as unhooked and light as ice cream. 😂

And the best thing I’ve learned so far: God has a feminine side. I knew this, but the Leanna explained it: Whoa.

God woos (woo wasn’t her word, but I’m a little lazy right now) me to create with my senses.

He is a caretaker.

And my absolute favorite: God as a warrior mother! This one totally explains why I’m drawn to moms. And how I see God protect and defend and cheer and all other things she said in the book I can’t remember, in my own and the ones who have become friends.

It’s a beautiful thing when an author puts to words what you haven’t understood. You feel slightly crazy but then you laugh and want to dance around and give them a hug.

And say thank you over and over to them and to God. Because you know even though the process is slow, you know he’s resurrecting you.

Seriously this book is so good and this is part one.

& You oblige me

maybe I am drawn 

to the blood–come

as you are, You whisper,

don’t be afraid. Abba, I am 

weak, a bleeding broken vessel,

who has heard You search out 

lost sheep. 

Could I be the one

You place on Your shoulders, rejoicing 

home: I have found her! ?

Would I shudder as I do when cold 

goes through my bone, as I watch 

You gazing into my eyes?

Would their be a twinkle-

the same in my grandpa’s-

as I tell You, nothing was

the same, is now that I 

receive the Benedictus?

The song of Zechariah,

where Your truth has caught 

me in anticipation–I’m coming

to save you, you’ll get everything 

you need! But hear where I sit on 

this bed, my body fading 

sleepy. I so hate consequences 

for my hell bent runnings to fear 

& doubt & wonder. So I tell you, 

just one more thing, let me do

one last task, then I’ll rest. But

this world is trying to walk on 

water, without You. Pummeled

by wave’s demand: oh, you

think you can conquer me alone?

Guess again! – we slip under,

choking on the seed of faith 

we thought we had. 

The mountain before me,

I could cast into the sea

but my eyes go watery;

pleading: Lord, save me!
**

I’ve been in and out of sleep today. And reading The Day I Met Jesus, hence the poem. I’m reading the story of the woman who bled for 12 years reimagined, and I’m all: yeah, you go girl! Crawl on to Jesus!

And then I’m imagining myself and how I’d freak out if I touched His robe. How if He turned around and asked: who touched Me robe?

I’d bawl. Or shake uncontrollably. Or both. Because I’d think He was mad. Still do every time I read it.

But I also think He’d get on the ground and whisper: How beloved you are, My child. You are free. Go on now, your faith has saved. Peace be with you. And I wonder if I’d laugh joyously my thank you.

I love how this story is told from a grandma to her granddaughter. It made me want to ask my grandma when she met Jesus here and call her, asking: what’s a middah?

And she’d say, did you look it up? And I say, no, I’d like you to tell me. But I think today I’m getting why she wanted to read the bible without always asking her a thousand questions: she wanted me to get to know Jesus and let Him reveal Himself to me. In special ways as He has lately.

But I would probably tell her: a middah is measurement of life!! Woo!! anyway. Because I don’t think she’d care at all.

So dance on, grandma in the arms of the Lover of your soul and I’ll watch the ways He loves me here until I’m no longer looking in the mirror. But know in whole.

in Your right hand

I can sense You

in the secret place

where these tears 

are spilling out–

milk we share absent

cookies. This is strength

becoming weak–I don’t 

understand the little bird’s

song outside my closed window,

pane; these words are sung in

refrain. Let me my Savior find joy,

Fmf: share. I’ve read, heard God has best interest at heart, mind at least 4 times the last few weeks. It has made me happy, but today reading it, I cried. He knows I’m really happy being able to encourage others right now in the midst of this longing, waiting. Seriously. I can feel swirly feeling most times. Or to pray. 

Though if I’ve honest, it feels kinda robotic lately. And I don’t mean it to be. But I’m tired, and I know if I don’t what to pray, the Holy Spirir groans. I know He understands.

I never knew how much time I would need to receive God’s company, His love for me. Because I know we are supposed to love others as ourselves, but I realize I don’t love myself very well if I don’t believe I’m enough to the One who made me.

But I know that even through my wondering and aching, He loves me and will continue to because he first loved me.

Birds singing real close is one of those ways today. 

Jeremiah knew the tornado from which I speak 

Abba, all right here

I sit weak. I cannot fly
away from pain within 

begging my mouth open–

I remember the surrender 

You did for me that I may call 

Your name. I tell again how I 

cannot do this, help myself.

Silence. An opening ear, heaven

listening to my plea, love you say 

I cannot lose, in lack this peace 

abounds. My need for you, Abba,

is wide like a lake, rushing quick

as you, the Word, I restore all the locusts 

have eaten with new food, praises to Me, 

the one and only God, setting your heels 

back in wonder at how personal I am. 

Wait for Me, your hope to arrive. I will be 

right on time. Obsolete, you are not. I 

have hedged you into My side, 

continuously holding your right hand. 

Conversations may seem one-sided, but I 

am speaking love, pulling heaven &

Earth to show you how precious 

you’ve always been. From the beginning, 

you beloved, have brought delight to My 

tongue.

Oh, the thought of you alone, a 
longing I dare never withhold.

To be by your side, hear you sing,

oh it might hope rising to the ear

drum, to the starfish in the sea 

below, to the angels surrounding

My throne. Something changed,

the sickness in your bone makes

you question: how is between us?

You fear, I must have done wrong.

He’s mad. I am love, My child. Patient, 

kind, long suffering. I am 

awakening you to who I am-be still & 

know I am, God. Abba. Yahweh. 

Emmanuel. I have not forgotten you, you 

are a treasure, a diadem.

First song, always that I sing is not

a mourner’s, but the one reminding: I am 

in your midst,

the One mighty enough to save you, 

fighting for you, so keep singing My 

name: Jesus, you are

beautiful, hiding me under your wing, 

with healing less like scars.

Come, my friend, tell me I do not

need be afraid, because I am. Control’s 

never been mine, but

I’d like believe maybe there’s a

loving God, ever watching the sparrow & 

yet mindful my dusty frame; without the 

picture in my mind of thinking Your 

scold, of course this is just one more 

thing

you need Me prove to you! You are 

breathing every minute aren’t you?

You say I can dream of going home 

though I tremble with all my

wrong, shame I’ve done you wrong. 

Loving you, You say, I made knowing 

intimately, exempts the pressure to try to 

return what I 

give you, love you cannot understand. 

What do I know, but 

grasping, grasping to be less person & 

stand on my own. Strangers come beside, 

tell

me they know this struggle of

proud, a kindness I want hold.

When it was over, a glimpse of

beauty I turn, turn, turn–