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.

let the evil pass from me 

I doubt I can sit

at your table with 

A straight face because

Jesus, the leaves before me
& so does their love and I want 

to cry. How do you look in my eyes 

And see the light you give me, 

burning to make this right? My 

inside screams the groans you keep. 

The ones incoherent. I am a sinner 

who is learning quiet submission to 

**fmf: doubt. This is the second poem I’ve written this week that’s made me well inside. I haven’t written poetry like this in a long time. Also, I thought today was Thursday..

The Chase

  • How can a guy who doesn’t know Jesus understand the spiritual depth of your heart?–Kyle Kupecky

After finishing The Chase by Kyle and Kelsey Kupecky last night, I have been more honest with myself about past relationships, and waiting for the guy God has for me.

From my early teens, I have always wanted a boyfriend. Someone I could feel protected with. Laugh with. Share with. Love with. Hope with. (All of these sound very cliche, but true.)

In the relationships I have had with guys, I always felt unfilled and never knew why. Sure, I loved the hand holding. Being wrapped in someone’s arms. The kissing. Long talks. Being told I was beautiful over and over.

Jesus was always missing though. And I never knew because I didn’t know Him. Or that relationships without Him at the center, fail. Even though this book is targeted toward high school girls, I loved how Kyle and Kelsey wrote this to appeal to any girl.

I found the telling of their story in both prospectives refreshing. I looked forward to the a dice and encouragement Kyle gave in each chapter. Some of my favorite pieces were:

  • Girls, the right guy will place significance on your character, confidence, and passion for Jesus.
  • When a godly guy is leading, the girl is heard and put first.
  • Be defined by God’s love.

Kelsey had great encouragement as well. A question she posed in the book that I was compelled to write down:

  • Is beauty the most important thing?

She then went onto list three messages the world sends out. My favorite being, Inner beauty doesn’t catch anyone’s eye. This made think of the verse in the Bible that says man looks at the outer appearance, while the Lord looks at the heart.

It’s easy for me to be wooed by what a guy looks like on the outside. What he says. But at the heart, I always want to know about the depth of the guy, if words lead to action. I’ve been fooled by a guy’s words, but still hoped his heart told a different story.

After reading this book. I’ve had talks with God about beautiful I’m choosing to wait for.

A man who will lead, love, and run to God with me.

*I was given a copy of The Chase in exchange for my honest opinion*

i can’t bear you go your own way

do you love
me—Peter?
yes, Lord. this
follower who
gave a rooster
reason to crow
not once. do you
love me, Peter?
you know i do; again
the bird opens beak
wide. caw, caw.
(weren’t you with
this man?)—do
you love me, Peter?
his cheeks grow red,
Lord, yes! you know
i do! (you know this man,
no?) caw, caw, caw!
then, come follow me.
for when you were young,
you clothed yourself in
best intentions & brought
a smile to your face when
you swung your feet close
enough to forget the gravity
of earth. when wrinkles crease
your face, you will be asked, can
your arms stretch?, while a mysterious
hand leads you along gravel path—for
this, my dear son, is love.

I wonder if my best intentions when i was young, were trying to walk in hopes I’d be healed of cerebral palsy. Compared to now: God asking me to be his helpless child, so his love can fill me. Totally still stubborn, but I don’t try walking to get healed. I’m just get lost in his word. Instead of worrying where I am going. He is where my help will come from. And the late nights with him,even while I don’t feel good, are a beautiful thing. 🙂

I’m wanting to wrap my arms around him. all the time.

when i did nothing at all

after 2 a.m.
i read how
Ezekiel ate
a scroll full
of woe. i’ve
eaten mourning
& lament through
separation of earthly
love—i couldn’t tell
you whether honey
filled my belly because
sorrow is a soggy salty
pretzel that sits heavy
after consumption.
sitting in the dark,
think of how God
promises this prophet
obstinance i know is real
with within me. he tells
Ezekiel, i am sending you
to a rebellious people—
say to them: this is what
the Sovereign Lord says,
turn from the wind & look
up, up, up beyond the cloud,
repent for the kingdom is all
around. Lord, hear this confession:
my forehead is as hard as stone,
my feet lead, for when I feel a breeze
I think another country, Africa maybe.
England. France will fulfill my longing.
but then as You move right in front of me,
I am blind—when my father hugs me
goodbye & instead of rejoicing for
what has never been a regularity,
I try comprehending Your majesty.

we long a narrow way

my name is
unknown
to the masses.
yet, how i crave,
when my soul
will never be
able to handle
such a load.
glory isn’t mine
to have and hold,
binding myself in
holy matrimony
Jesus promises
his burden is light –
yoke easy— it is
the gift of intimacy
worldly eyes were
never asking see.

what comes out when i write sometimes confuses me. like this probably has a lot to do with what i’m reading. makes me wonder if i’ll ever get into fiction ever again.