Another Day

I open my eyes inward and catch a glimpse of you- smiling

The syllables of your heart paint in me a masterpiece as their meanings clear cut my core- to listen

I find myself close to your heart- flung wide open

Where an eternity of tiny pixels made of dainty seconds turn moments into memories- that last forever

I sense the clinking of praise echo deeper than my scorning rejections- I let go- I offer gratefulness

Whispers of love enter where I walled love in- against the world- we go deeper

Beyond the resonating residue of times I resented you to a place I cannot resist you

And when I look into your face I see a resemblance of myself

Tendrils softly curl about your eyes as they twinkle my name- “Beloved”

In this moment you have captured my heart- again and again

I catch my breath and learn to live anew- restored for another day

 



Inner Voice

The expressions of our inner voices take on many forms. The breadth of this uniquely tailored voice crosses over many boundary lines such as time, language, culture, self definitions, point of view, age, gender, education, area of influences, life experiences, personal frame of references, and much more. The defining factor in recognising this language, founded within ones values and beliefs, is in the heart of our being or in the deep workings of ones soul.

Our specific intonations, or diction from the heart, make us unique and make us defined within a vast array of feeling. Without this feeling or emotion, which create the blueprint of our character, we risk being seen as toneless or received flat within the confines of our human nature. A monotone classification of a breed birthed in lifelessness. Once more, a form of motionless relating or uninspired living.

To live devoid of moving passion or the voice of ones spirit is likened to being incomplete suffering a form of atrophy. Likewise denying the power of a Spirit greater than mine, whom I have come to know as the Holy Spirit within me, bids me bound by my human failure within the confines of my judgemental skin. Amplifying within the wrongs rather than bringing to light that which empowers one to love, grow, understand and participate in life with joy and limitless grace.

Surrendering the poor self concepts that undermine my desire to hold the true qualities of a genuine friend, I choose to break unhealthy patterns and rewrite the scripts I find myself submerged in. To edit the monologue of my mind and reframe the contexts in which I create relationships.  I make a point to allow that inner voice life, in the act of expressing it out loud, with the courage to make a difference.



Just For a Moment

She's a lonely girl
Lost in her silent night
Wondering and hoping
For the wrong to be right.

Tare down her walls
Break in from the cold
Her heart opens
Just for a moment.

You could be the only one
You could be strength unspoken x2

Everybody knows- the path she's chosen
Nobody knows- how to keep her open

She falls from your arms
Her guard is unarmed
As the tears fall down
Just for a moment- with you.

Divine Longing

Willowing ways of my human nature sway
As my overly-attitudes adjust and take their aim
Trying to mimic bold chiseled truths
I am left encumbered by overstated worry
The latitudes of lies coursing upwards and downward
Circling within this radical interchange, I seek my centre
Long suffering magnified through the burdens of my mind
Like tendons pulled taught restricting my growth
Bonds concentrating blame near the core of my breath
Sputtering on empty my heart waits for recovery
Divine overtures overturn my misery with mercy
Bound no longer to pain but rather inclined longing
Defining my design, I reposition myself in the corners of my mind
I take hold of my purpose as I walk this path to Free

Defined Lines

Where shadows walk

Light can still shine

Where night is crisp

Truth defines lies.

When widows cry

Tears water hope

When pain envelopes

Love takes its course.

Where authority bends

Someone still stands

Where surrender bows

Forgiveness lives.

P.S. I Love You

Dear Daughter,

I have called you from the depths of depravity. Where your whole vast expanse of love, life, and laughter spill out among the throngs of your pain and fear. My intense desire to uphold your frame and speak truth over you keeps me in pursuit of your soul. Can you hear me calling?

I have seen you through many eyes and seen you before an array of merciful people. My mercy seat has been waiting for you to rest and take your comfort within Me. Come love, Come.

The creative washing the wisp-full pouring out of, so you can become part of, is worth every moment. Singing the true glories and dancing the warrior ways of our friend the Holy Spirit, I foreshadow the Great Feast you are welcome to dine at. Dance little one Dance.

I am not encumbered by the barriers of man nor laden by the grief of a hope deferred soul. In fact I can hold more if you entrust your burdens to me. Let it Go. Cast them off.

Trust the daring drive within you to become everything you dream. See to it you be yourself on purpose and take honor in all you accomplish in my Name. You are not a mistake Daughter. Your failures are being made right. Even Now.

Sincerely,
Papa.

P.S. I Love You.

Choices

notches rich record the time
of ripples reaching
of vast horizon
crippled heart drives its mark
of winding words
of crying hope
downcast eyes say the truth
of darkened depth
of this grey love
choices grab the wasted dreams
as I pull them back in

Pandora's Box

She opens the box as sound skims the breeze
Skipping in time with the chords of life
She steps on the pulse within
Licking flames encumber her steps
Lavished sparks kiss her lips
Leaving time behind she runs
Deep below the shadows
Down where waters leap wild
She connects with raw beauty
Underneath her skin

False Anchor

Swathed within a tangent illuminating my fears I remember. The pervasive sensations make their claim as I recall the tremors. Forking from their centre the emotions wrench without mercy into the vast canvas of my person. I am motionless.

Thoughts tumbling beside one another making me sick as I connect the dots. The marking stones of my story tell me something greater. Something I do not yet understand. The complete comprehensive sums that describe who I am today are not in the right order. I feel random.

I know there is reason for these new revelations as I brave the memories before me. Why I quake while being disconnected and run from whom some say are made to love. Wandering barren in the quarrel of my choices I tempt to land this sinking body. I let go of false anchor.

Calculated advances invade my frame. Seasoned admissions begin to speak without my permission. They pierced the heart and quenched this life. They break the camel’s back and keep pressing. Detailed attack to silence overwhelms me as recollection introduces itself.

Facing backward I walk parallel within my dreams getting nowhere quickly. The horizon unwilling to meet me on even terrain I scream for answers. Why wrestle this child’s soul into the darkness to fend for herself? I keep my eyes looking forward while my nightmares nudge me back.

Satisfied not the clock chimes in order without end. I pray my pain is not written within the same signature. Determined to rebut the chill of frosty touch I debrief my limbs in hopes to walk ahead again. Connected to my mind and seemingly defined as whole. Although I am forgiving I do not stop remembering.

New Signature

Intricate whips of rainbows envelope the space between my truths. Twisting my observations while enlightening my perspective. Bursting feelings liven this heart to move towards the depth of my compass. Shaping my existence. Unfolding each limb from within I step, I dance, I become. I am.

Wandering moments cross the intersections of this soul these memories washing away residue. Chiseling my layers and assumptions I am more satisfied. Bitter barbs of pain decline their invitation and break the laws of gravity. I spin to a new signature.

The diction of my spirit quickens and the nuances of my expression shift boldly. My mind is more mine yet offered to one and to all. The quills of my impressions leave a lasting mark. The stains on my hands are not hidden.

Tiny tips of joy leave a legacy as I dare challenge sorrow. Swallowing my pride and hanging my heart on the line. Tempted to remain motionless I ask questions. The answers do not paint the perfect dream. I keep looking. Wrapped and spun richly I am surrounded like a butterfly before its first flight.

My Voice in the Art of Relationships

I have a voice that feels caged tonight.  One that if given invite could shake the foundations of the things some people simply don't want to know. I have a vision to rectify the flaws we find ourselves failed by when active in the art of relationships. Life cannot thrive without fellow peers, mentors, resistance and the maturity to challenge ones faulty thinking. Willingness to admit weakness bids welcome to the tact of transparent honesty. If I had a platform to share my knowledge boldly, towards the ones I find myself excommunicated by, I would do it. The problem is would you still love me for me? Would the challenges be faced or stuffed under the rug or would communication prevail with flying colours? Will I dare continue to trust that words can and will make a difference for all humanity? To what extent will I stay the course and voice the truth against the tell of time?

The Path

The brazen wisps of velvet stir
Upon the chiseled ledge
[The tears threaten to fall]
Moistened deep the droplets splash
Awakening my flesh
[As I learn to feel]

Thickened are the tiny wells
The sorrows of my heart
[My eyes are puffy and heavy]
Quickened is the beat that pounds
The rhythm of my spark
[My anger rises]

Yield not to careless thought am I
Bowed low upon the earth
[I am trying not to be careless and instead to pray]
Temptations war this mind to meld
To walk in blurred remorse
[Dismissing false blame]

Risen above the shadows march
Their feet resound my pain
[I'm hurting in the dark]
My eyes look up and see the truth
I'm on Your path again
[I am learning to find the Light]

Where I Belong

I belong in vast expanse
In the openness of your plan;
Not where walls crush me down
Or shadows take my hand.

Break this prison of my vision
Strip me of my shame;
Call me from horizons breath
And speak in me my name.

Shower me and wash me clean
Of times unsightly dust;
Peal the layers of my sin
Soften my hearts crust.

I take a step on lighted path
Far from alienation;
I honor truth as my Guide 
And proclaim my destination.

Lion- Learning to Roar

While painting him I thought "learing to roar" and of "calling awake" the lion I am learning to become. He guards my heart in ways I do not fully understand. The areas I fall short are not to hanious for him to bare. I am fully seen and accepted by him... as he is Me... and so much more than I even know. May I learn to roar unashamed.

Tiny Bubbles

I let the tears come and wash away the paths I've travelled.
The tiny bubbles imprinting a new way, a new design.
Rolling smooth my rough edges, pressing down my imperfections.
Bursting with life my eyelids rise.
It is in each today I learn to see...
I embrace all that makes me Me.

The Ocean Floor

Our love like a deep-sea quest... a chance to shed our outer worries and to dismantle our distractions-to focus on each other. Beginning with you in the deep. Swimming along-side you in tandem. Trusting the weighty life-giving tanks and shamelessly adorning the form-fitting attire for our journey ahead. One with the same breath, I dare dreamt you belonging right here forever and for always. No fear of my raw impressions- the diving suit snuck them passed my radar as it should be- committed to forge ahead into the unknown with you... for you. Not anticipating the need to retrace our steps to come back to the start... to land where I now call here.

The rippling inviting waves so fast churning into a rip-tide, shredding our sense of direction. We lost our True North. The life giving breath we so easily counted on really did run out before our quest was complete. The problems began when I found myself looking back to find you far away and unable to hold your breath. I did not know what to do- how does one breathe for two? Equally out of air, of choice, out of seeming hope... we found ourselves shadowed and desperate. Reaching for each other and finding open hollows. Not enough footing to keep facing forward against the currents, I had to let you go and risk... risk us not meeting upon the surface together as it should have been... together as it should be. The changing tide, the force of wind, the whispers of the past and sin creating a drive to escape. No room for mistake. Our love stretching bare and transparent before the smooth polished stones I once envied. The ones I looked up to.

I wanted to see the beauty, feel the treasures, to know you on the inside. Where the dark and light mingled magic together and where you still found the courage to keep walking. Sense the smell of life and mystery envelope our cares and purify them in our salty mists. I longed for the the sun to rise -one day upon my womb and to let our stars kiss your face- until there was no fear. To count the sand on our shore and know your love for me was still more... more than this shipwreck.

The dust is settling now as I rise, void of your chiseled form, within my peripheral vision. Silhouetted against what I thought was grace, I called your name. I do not know upon what shore you went or know whom you now became. I can not break the cycle of the wind- nore break my heart for you again. Instead I try and convince my soul to sing and wish the stars to bless your head as you seek the path from which we lead... and now I learn to walk again. Before the choral-reefs bid us come and the stones cried out their blessed joy. Beyond the moments I recalled your smile, caught you staring deep beneath my borders, I kept tended for you.

I find myself turning my gaze and finding myself- without you- upon the ocean floor.

This voyage inside me is not over. I quest against the sea which broke your heart and brought you to me. I dare to shatter the barbs of earthen vessels, whom care only about the outside world, and I boldly speak of a love I have not known. The one of my True North whom has come to welcome us home. Home, upon the land of mercy, where life has risen beyond pain and I dare to speak your name again. Knowing my love will not end here. Remembered deep- you are foreshadowed not- I dream you into beauty.

Martyr's March

A witness marches forth renown
Before the peek of piercing stone
Upon the mountain slain, forlorn
A warrior welcomed home.

Full wings abreast wide-eyed heart
Feathered flight once foretold
Beckons fierce imprinted mark
Upon the seeds of time.

Breathing in musky scent of earth
Bent low behind tender kiss

Surrendering force breaks the bond
Of night's listless grip.

Roots

I find myself pondering as I pull weeds. Cavernous twinges of winding life branch and wrap around the pebbles of my path. Entwined richness gripping beneath the earth, yearning to leave their mark within the hollows. While the sun dances and the wind sings, ever growing, the leafy wings of time tell a story. The story of my youth, the journey of my heritage. It's where I have found my roots.

As I whisk away the bulbous forms, which show their heads within this rockbed, I think of you. The ones whom have nourished me and remained the same with unchanging hearts upon a firm foundation. I envelope the tools once held dear in your hands and sense your presence beside me. Unearthing the original scalloped stones once laid and now lovingly discovered and restored. These pebbles bear the imprints of times past and welcome me in the present. I know where I have come from and where I am going.

Those memories of darkness, the weeds of the mind, show themselves more freely as I call upon them. Not afraid of their truth and I am ready to face them. Before they can be shed of their hold, I dare entertain their time untold. I break their heads, their greedy grip, and toss the chaff of mossy residue. Clearing my vision to that of the new I hope in the morning glories rising daily in the weaving of my spirit. It is here I have found where I belong. Unashamed, I sing the joy of my life song.

In loving memory.

My Best Friend

Today
Tomorrow
Yesterday...

Each moment makes an imprint Each memory is a stepping stone into our future. I think of each new obstacle, each new season, each new relationship. I know who I am and who I am not.

Walking between the margins of time, I learn not to fret the outcomes. The what ifs and what should have beens. Sticking true north- my compass is my heart. I know in my knower, in my deepest parts, I have overcome.

There is a sweet aroma whispering past my senses into something greater. Beyond my understanding of what is and might become. I call it hope.

I am floating on the sure foundation of my core beliefs. Rising above the choppy seas of my experiences. I am ready to hoist the flag of my existence and beckon the winds of change to direct my course.

Disturbing the dust I have let linger, I let the tears come. The tiny bubbles wash the traces where pain has been and open my eyes to see. I invite the twinges of laughter to come shake me awake from my slumber. This mountain is ready to be shaken.

I reach out and feel the motions of my heart touch me all the way through my bones and right to the tips of me. Defining where I end and where I begin.

In hindsight and foresight I breathe the mystery of my uniqueness and dare to know my name. I am called strong. I am called wise. I am that in which I have come to know as ME- my best friend.

Purity at The Finish Line

I had a dream last night... lending for some interesting thoughts- as usual...

I saw a woman, as if I were her, and she was trying to convince a loved one that she is pure. It was in a setting that reminded me of a kind of Egypt where there were strict distinctions of economic and hereditary classes/stigmas....

This is what I saw:
She was the target of a man seeking to mar her physical and emotional purity through stealing her societal status. Simply giving others the impression she was tainted would be enough to banish her and mock her future...

In the event of her attack a stranger protected her and warded off the offender by slaying him as the woman blanketed herself and hid- trying to protect her innocence . The problems arose when her loved one pursued her, to make her his bride, but found her painted red even though she was dressed in the purest white. All it took was one contrasting stroke to colour her whole existence/purpose. It was enough just to think she was somehow jaded to prompt rejection and contempt.

Thus spurred on the dream where unfolded an obstacle the woman had to survive to reclaim her "worth". This was like a sport whereby all whom were miss labelled, like her, had to enter into a challenge. A physical gauntlet of sorts where lives were taken, cut short prematurely, or given permission to carry forward as each step lent grace to do so. Where men of the world were her judge.

She dodged the dangers and held close the presence of those who believed in her. Daring to even race alongside others found in the same plight. It was not the rank or order of winning that mattered to her but the shear will to do her best against the odds. To war within herself to remain true to whom she was created to be- one without blemish, one made with love. A daughter, a sister, a lover, a mother, and yet still a woman meant to be freed from the bindings the world weighted upon her shoulders.

During this show of sport, if you will, the 'mighty men' watched, they cheered, they scoffed, they waited... wondering if it would be "their one" who crossed the finish line...  meanwhile she pressed on not for them but for all that she stood for- A life worth truly living.

It was at this time I discovered some things:

The race of life is not about whom has their eyes on you but rather what/whom your eyes are set upon.
There may be obstacles that can take your life yet your life is not over until its over... keep fighting for it. You could make it further than you think.
Labels are just labels and they do not accurately display or stand for truth.
Accomplishment is not solely about the finish line but the journey towards it.
Oppinions are just attitudes misusing power.
Worth is what we embody, more than the physical, and it can not be stolen.

In Summary:
Even when the world tells you lies about who you are, stay true to yourself. You will come out winning more than you think. A strength, a peace, a plan, a beauty that shines brighter than the defining eyes of man. We are all winners, when we dare to try, dispite the odds or the reasons we are found in the race. It is not our physical life that carries our worth but rather the courage we claim while discovering/ connecting to/ fighting for/ and honoring whom infact we truly are... a treasure worth every moment...a beauty in its purest form... a diamond in the rough... created and cherished by the truest Lover- of us all.

Finding Hope Within Boundaries

Let me begin by sharing an awesome quote which makes a powerful point:
      " I don't need a telescope to know that there is HOPE... and that makes me feel BRAVE " - OwlCity


I have been learning so much within the deepest parts of me. Realising my fears are relieved as I press through and keep my eye on the joy of living. Even when the minefields within me are triggered, and I am tempted to melt/recoil at the heat of them, I am learning to own my baggage and give it less power over my feelings, behaviours, and, actions (thanks to the book Beyond Boundaries- Dr. Townsend).

Boundaries to me are what keep me safe and able to trust, love, and be free to be me. Do not get me wrong here. I have definately allowed breaches to attack both my boundaries that identify who I am and have allowed my protective boundaries to be minimised... BUT right now, the peace of mind and healing begins as I - today and everyday - keep daring to learn who I am and to advocate for and protect my freedoms. The essence of and the very core truths that highlight me for me- an original creation!

A challenge for me, in this reflection on what I value and need to live healthy, is identifying fully with the boundaries that have been intentionally broken by others and for me to have the courage to now dare to repair and fortify each one of them in love. Taking the time to value myself and love myself and know that I am the best me there can ever be- no matter the tough experiences or stereotypes that try to label where I have come from.

Keeping connected to reality is crucial to a balanced existance. Letting relationships or things in life cloak our responsibilities and distort the truth kills the very purpose and missuses passions we have been created for. Keeping an eye on both our past and future is wise so as to not keep falling in the same caverns that suck the joy of life out of us in the present. I aspire to remember to value my now moments and to keep dreaming and desire a healthy future.

Trauma's Song

These wings of dawn within a trauma's song
Birthed not inside the chilling fear
But by the whims of grace, called close;
Spreading far beyond the mire
Into the light of His desire, I come.
These freeing arms hold me near
Before the pain burns deep it's mark
Whispers from a loving spark, cry my name.
Blowing far, love's song to fly
Upon the ears beyond my youth
A child reaching out to wisdom's hand
Gripping tight a Father's plan, to heal.
Tender feathers painted gold
A bird through shame-filled pain has flown
Into the grace welcomed on His face.
Tears wash away the last trace
Of wandering worries from yesterday's time;
We sing of joy in His embrace.

The Gift of Being Heard

The value of being genuinely heard is priceless yet means the world to us. One prospers and grows, is free to ask questions, and dares to face relational obstacles confidently. Given the ability to carry a voice is life giving as we deliver our thoughts, our feelings, our essence of personality, and a representation of our culture to those around us. When each individual is welcomed on the same playing field of expression much is gained and respect has an opportunity to be reciprocated equally.

Unfortunately when our power to speak openly is muted or walked upon unjustly it leads to brokenness of healthy communication and greater conflict. Many wars have broken out for these reasons where violence became, and still becomes, a way to regain power instead of words and death fosters a way to measure success.

Being silenced can push a person over the edge and desperation may erupt louder than truth. Boiling up as anger builds like a pressure cooker on the brink of unrepairable disaster. Irrational thoughts become our friend and our actions become our enemy. Being forcefully shut down causes our minds and bodies to short circuit until our needs are met and a sense of safety returns.

I have personally experienced both sides of this equation. Being invited to share anything rationally with acceptance or not being welcome to declare or explore the facets of who I am. One leads to equality and determination to brainstorm answers without judgement and the other leads to kayos and anger where defences attempt to self protect. Ideally I prefer the communications styles that lead to love rather than death and am on a journey in learning how to empower myself and those who find themselves fearfully speechless.

Advocacy for self and others is paramount for a healthy family, community, nation, and world. Lets be on the lookout for ways we can extend to ourselves and others the chance to be heard within a safe and respectful atmosphere. Joining together for the quest of truth to be heard and the quest for love to set those in bondage free. Identifying better communication skills and knowing where boundaries and accountability have their place. Living for peace rather than leaching power.

The Greatest Gift

Have you ever thought about what it really means to love someone? What it takes, what it looks like, what it sounds like, how it feels? I have been reading a book that has opened my eyes deeper to these questions seriously worth pondering. Thinking them through with every part of who I am and then thinking through them again through the eyes of the One who really knows. He who has demonstrated love in its purest form to us already.

Ted Dekker is an amazing author whom I have had the privilege of gaining insight and wisdom from through his profound writings. Specifically, his book titled "The Bride Collector". Laying the mystery and the chase aside within the jackets of this novel, the threads of likeness to how God loves all of us- "His favourites"- are very hard to miss.

While reading the ending, a tear-jerker of realisations to be sure, I learned something revealing of myself. I am angry. I am actually really angry and I could not understand fully why until now. The images of sacrificial love, by a human friend, bounced around between my ears until they made there mark in the heart of my spirit. I became privy to the fact that I have let myself hate someone and blame them for the walls now between me and a best friend. I was even angry at my best friend for in a sense rejecting me. Mislabelling their actions as hurtful rather than an invitation for healing. I projected my anger to the wrong places and held onto it unjustly.

Can you imagine a parallel comparison, being angry at God for letting Jesus die for our freedom? How could we hate Him given the valour to conquer the very depths of deaths grip on us? The death of Jesus was in a sense "worth it" for the lives of all mankind. To silence the grip the enemy had on us.

I was angry because a great friend, my best friend, gave up their choice to love me by sacrificing themselves to love me. This might have sounded confusing. Let me say it another way to be sure you get the picture in my heart. The best way a person can love someone is by letting their personal needs and wants go in order to set the one they love free.

Recently someone did this for me and I at first did not see the magnitude of their living sacrifice. A quote depicting this, "you have to let him [or her] go [to risk their very life with and for you] because you love him [or her] and you have to trust him [or her] to be who he [or she] is for you [in order to release your grip on them so that you can both be set free]" (P. 399 The Bride Collector). This is love in its purest form. Grace to its fullest.

Seeing it from my friends perspective, through the help of one of Ted Dekker's characters, I read these words "leaving her [or him] there to suffer yet another abandonment had wrenched his [or her] heart but he [she] knew that he [or she] might never have another opportunity to save, really save, her [or him]..."(P. 401 The Bride Collector). Letting them leave because they want the best for me, in my case, was more life giving than trying to remain in love with them. Holding onto them for the sake of feeling loved, or for some being rescued by them, is wrong. Feeling loved was not as important as actually experiencing real love. Witnessing its selfless offering.

I am compelled to forgive the targets of my anger. A facet of love. To not only set them free from the arrows of my mind but to speak the truth that they are loved implicitly by another- by the One who made them. Identifying to them that no fault, no misgiving, no behaviour or human act can separate them from the Love of the Father. Silencing my anger and loving them enough to point them to whom loves them them most. More than humanly possible.

I think this is what Jesus would want us to know about His death for us. That He knew that leaving us, for a time as a human man on the cross, would be immeasurably far greater a love than to simply remain with us. Preventing the pain and fear of the unknown, the cross for a time brought for our sake, would not keep us safe from what hurts us most. Allowing the confusion and heart wrenching emotions, for a time while people mourned, was more beneficial to our future than safeguarding our hearts in the moment of His death. His pain and desire to have us experience the purest love of all hurt Him, yet it offered an eternal solution to false love and the fear of rejection for all eternity. Proving before all creation that the greatest gift really is not having all the answers or feeling loved, but instead, to lay ones life down for a friend. The rawest act of being loved- beyond all cost.

Life: An Internal Ropes Course

One has opportunity to face challenges head on or to ignore them. Seems to me that many life experiences are a form of climbing test with a beginning, middle, and end. We can 'storm the walls' within, reach our Mount Everest, and sail into our futures boldly. Often though, in the climb, I realise I have forgotten to bring my safety harness- my coping tool box. These times are crucial in determining ones resilience and determination to keep climbing. To succeed and go the distance or to let ones drive die and 'Jack and Jill' back to the start.

At times I have butterflies in my stomach as life turns into a sort of spinning tire-swing experience. Pivoting and reeling until everything on the outside is blurred and threatens to expel everything on the inside- the eye of the storm. Willingly, I would hope it would be the time to surrender all my have-nots, what- nots, cannots and want-nots. Even the knots that tighten my heart gripping me like a noose. Purging all the frayed edges of my character and curing them, bidding them to be steadfast. It is in the curing (purifying) process one feels the burn, the melting of dreams and expectations, necessary to 'come out on top'.

Wrestling, I feel at times like I am on the end of a pendulum in its deepest pull against gravity. My emotions fall in the room, can by cut by a knife, leaving hints of rope burn in their wake. Often I try to zip through my feelings like on a ropes course and yet find I am ill trained. Taking the high leaps before I am ready. It shatters my confidence. It is better to wait and even ask for a 'spotter' before engaging such monstrous endeavours. Better not to put the cart before the horse.

Exploring my heart like a figure eight, I notice the walls, the caverns, the deepest parts, the facets that have shaped who I am today. Each experience like a helpful knot, when pursuing the challenge of climbing a rope, giving leverage to reach higher ground. To conquer the lows and become victorious. Perhaps one really should take a knot tying course- questing for role models and vantage points that encourage the moving up, the moving forward journey of life. Providing better footing for the climb. Engaging the legs and other body parts to aid in the battle- instead of surrendering it to a singular set of muscle groups. Making use of mind and body to stop the waves of failure that threaten to capsize us.

One thing I know I need in my tool box of coping is a three strand chord. One without frayed edges and can take the force of my ups and downs as I rollercoaster to the finish line. Exchanging my areas of weakness, where my climbing rope has gone slack, and replacing it with taughtness-  succinct knowledge and the purest wisdom of navigation. Directing my internal compass True North and instructing me where I need the help of a safety net. Revealing to me the best 'spotter' of all- God. The best climbing companion of all, who cheers us on, even when we are tempted to place Him on the sidelines. At least then, when the pedulum swings, I know it is He who holds me.

Forget The Hamster Wheel

So many times we find ourselves at the start of a new day, a new year, a new dream. Questioning what will unfold next. What will this next season bring? Sometimes there is even pressure from "the norm" to make certain choices or to follow a certain criteria. To make resolutions that are not fully rooted but rather just for the sake of making them... just like everyone else.

I am not doing that this year. This new dawn of a fresh start. Instead, I am focused on simply finding out what it is that is worth everything to live for. The answer is not a simple one, as it should be, but comes with some doubts and unmet expectations. Hmmm. Expectations. The things that hang us up and dangle us by a thread, taunting and teasing, begging us to relent and give into mediocrity.

Stuck in the between places without solid start or end, we often stand waiting for something that never happens. Find ourselves wondering what comes next rather than who am I becoming. Stumping our toes with projections into places that have not even begun yet. Futuristic focus without proper footing in the present.

Grasping hold of fragments of budding truths, I want to know who I am and who I will be without slipping too far forward or falling too far backward. One might call it foundation or identity. Nudging myself from the inside out, I seek self identification and awareness from internal clues that tell me I am not all that I should be yet- not who I was called to be yet. Sort of like wearing shoes that are two sizes too big but expecting myself not to stumble or falter when life speeds up.

I am learning the art of being gentle on myself without being too mushy or slack. Giving myself room for choices yet limiting certain hang-ups from appearing on my horizon and calling my bluff when I fail. Offering myself to be re-sized and measured by the correct form of measurement- I surrender my slip ups, my not enoughs, and my should-have-beens. Replacing them with encouragement and clarity from the One who, at the very least, knows my correct shoe size.

The concept of a new year can start anytime we chose it to. We are not limited to our calendars for the source of renewal or freedom. Stepping into each new day with determination to let the wants, whats, whys, whens, and hows fall under our feet. Making room for the best questions of all. Who am I? Who loves me? Who do I love? Who carries me and walks beside me? Who... whom? To what source do I put all my trust and hope in for the right direction? Who holds my heart's compass and guides me home?

Good questions... I am still learning there are no solid answers on this side of life, this side of heaven. The only foundation is found on the cross. Not on my goals, or dreams, or desires... My identity is not in the whats of life but in the Whos of the Spirit. The One who knows our end from our beginning. God whom knows my heart best, better than I know myself. The One whom challenges time as we know it and fills us with the strength to walk forward. Forward on the threads of hope, peace, love, and joy. Correcting my faulty thinking, the relying on self, God removes me from the hamster wheel of life. Grounding us in heavenly realms. Guiding us through the nows and thens into something greater than our resolutions will ever accomplish. I resolve to trust Him.