so we can smell them everyday

dear children-who-i-will-jump-in-puddles-with,

when there are no cartoons on television and when there is nothing in particular to do i will wrap you up like a burrito in a blanket. and pretend like i'm going to eat you. my mom and dad used to do this to me. and i'm going to do it with you. i will cup my hand over your ear and my mouth and tell you secrets like i love you. or your eyes are like fireworks. or your smile is like ten million diamonds. i will help you climb trees even though i've never climbed one. i will teach you to ride a bike even though i'm still learning. i can rollerblade though. maybe we will start with that. we will explore every nook and cranny of parks, woods, and our backyard. no rock will be left unturned. we will pick flowers of different colors and we will breathe our deepest breath, pollen and all. we will let out a sigh of contentment and put said flowers in a vase on a table in our living room. so we can smell them everyday.
we will sing songs and dance for everyone to see. i will teach you to be unashamed. because fear won't look good on you like it never looked good on me. i can't wait until our laughter shakes the walls of our house. we will cry. and fight. and disagree. that is a given, considering that they are the norms of any healthy relationship. but our laughter will be the syrup that makes the illnesses of anger, bitterness, and plain ol' ugliness go away.


sincerely,

a twenty year old girl who has no excuse to be silly but insists that one must never take themselves too seriously.

laced like my fingers in Yours

i hand the glorious and the frightening,

the jubilant and the doleful over to You.

surrender is the call of the day. of every day. and every moment,

because the sweetest of wines and the richest of foods

cannot satisfy like You do.

because You are trustworthy.

and with You, i am safe, alive.

apart from You, i cannot do a thing.

i cannot speak. accomplish. invest.

i cannot breathe.

and this desperation is so real. my body aches with longing.

in Your rest, i retreat.

those wings, delicate and careful, are my hiding place:

where weeping and rejoicing are laced like my fingers in Yours.

You have always held my hand. it sounds silly. but it is true. when i was afraid of the dark and had nightmares that turned my flesh to stony dread. You accompanied me to my parents room; down the creaking hard stairs, the soles of my feet cold against tile. You nestled against me and lulled me to sleep with Your tenderness. You still do.

fear and worry cajole me into restlessness.

but You, my mighty Lord, settle the waters within.

shhh, be still.

psalms ninetythree.three,four

the seas have lifted up, o lord,

the seas have lifted up their voice;

the seas have lifted up their

pounding waves.

mightier than the

thunder of the great waters,

mightier than the

breakers of the sea-

the lord on high is mighty.

psalms sixtytwo.eight

trust in Him at all times, o people;

pour out your hearts to Him,

for God is our refuge.

selah.

oh so grateful

this past week was exhausting. literally exhausting.

two classes skipped. two meetings cancelled (not by me, thank you jesus).

but on my birthday i went to disneyland and cheesecake factory.

with these beautiful people.

who challenge me without trying.

who make me laugh on the inside. and outside.

(the former is harder)

who tell the truth, regardless how painful or freeing it might be.

who eat lunch and dinner with me - even though i am a commuter.

who drag me out of my hermitude into meaningful conversations and lasting friendships.

who have proven priceless to me over the past year or two.

and i am still oh so sore from walking.

but i am oh so grateful for them.

meet (from left to right): rudy, josh, little ol' me, and jackie.

aren't they great?

:)

proper thing

tomorrow is my birthday.
and i will be twenty.
alas, my teen years are over.

if only a willow tree was a proper thing to ask for.
because they are shady. and sacred. and they sing in the wind.

trinket and bauble

i am called to be free.

anything that

binds

chains

enslaves

isnt worth it anymore.

freedom is the love of Christ poured out: over, in, and around me.

freedom is trusting that love that is stronger than death.

freedom is returning to that love when the yoke of slavery doesn't seem so bad.

(after all, it's just some baggage. you weren't doing that bad before.)

i am called to be free. and it's scary.

there is a Treasure that surpasses every trinket and bauble we cling too.

a beautiful, never-gonna-leave-you, sort of treasure.

an everlasting Treasure that neither rusts nor decays.

and it is that Treasure, that is worth the surrender of my riches and relationships.