bloom.

I saw a tweet about tonight’s five minute friday and couldn’t help but want to join in. I feel like a fraud as a blogger since I haven’t written a post (outside of posting images for the Psalm series) since MAY! Yeep. I miss this space. But I also am determined to be a good student in this season of education. So there’s that. Anyway. Premise aside, here’s a blog post from the absentee blogger.

The prompt is bloom, which makes me chuckle because well, I haven't blogged in a while so the idea of writing FOR my blog and not for a professor is both incredible and also seems like maybe I've forgotten how. 

Bloom though. Back to that. 

Last year was last year. It's been written about. It happened. Then the season of rest happened, a season where God just bandaged and bandaged and let me heal. He quieted me and calmed me and changed me and reminded me that not only was His grace sufficient, His love was too. 

So then this year. This season. It's bloom. What else is it but that? It's the spring buds popping up after a long winter, refreshing the spirit and cleaning the dust. 

This season is singing loudly, dancing wildly, laughing until my belly hurts and all the things. 

It's deep feeling, learning what it means to simultaneously rejoice with the rejoicing whilst also mourn with the mourning. That's a delicate dance I'm desperately wanting to dance well. Both mourn and rejoice, sometimes in the same moment. Because I'm sure Jesus would have. 

This is the season of bloom. It's the brightest I can remember. It's my favourite to date.

In church we sang Desert Song on Sunday and gosh I remembered all the times when all the hard parts of that song rang true. 

But this time I knew my line. It came at the end. 

This is my prayer in the harvest (in the bloom), where favour and providence flow.
I know I'm filled to be emptied again, this seed I've received I will sow. 

Amen. Amen. 

she.

I'm linking up with five minute friday today. The prompt of she inspired these words.

Something in me always hesitates when I start to share about being single. Something called fear crumples my words and makes me delete the already typed words. Single girl thoughts typically arrive as I lie awake at night, longing for different moments.

I've felt compelled for weeks, maybe even a few months, to share more. To share deeper and longer, wider and higher about the complex mystery that makes up my heart.

I'm not quite sure how a word prompt of she is the thing pushing me to share, but I might as well.

There is a song that I wrote just about two years ago called wither. I shared in that song my hurts of a girl who had so recently had her heart broken. (It's also my favourite song that I've ever written)

Since then my heart has been broken numerous times, but all the boys have been oblivious. Isn't that like the biggest hurt of all sometimes? The oblivious hurts. The longings that nobody knows about. The boys who we crush on for weeks and months, who we pray for daily, about whom we seek genuine wisdom from above about?

I'm done being silent. I hesitate to get loud, but maybe it's time I start using at least an inside voice on the topic of singleness.

Because I know I'm not the only one crying in my bed at night, and that I'm not the only one who sometimes goes week upon week without missing the hypothetical boyfriend.

I think there is a balance, a sweet trust that is built.

I've texted my sister Kirsten something akin to this before:

Is it normal to trust God fully about my future in relationship and yet also really really want something to happen really soon?

I'm still learning that balance, that sweet trust. I haven't arrived, but I'm certainly on my way.

How's your story? What's your story?

One of my most visited posts is this one here, which is all about ways a single girl can pray for her future (hypothetical) husband.

worship

I'm linking up with five minute friday today.

I stood alongside my church last night at a worship night in our new building. Through the generosity of many, we're moving into a large and huge building downtown. I've written about feeling small on its stage, on marveling at WHO God is.

Last night was a worship night.

I stood amidst friends, amidst believers in Jesus, and we sang and we sang and we sang.

I did my normal singing, harmonizing, raising my hands, raising my face to look at the ceiling - I always sense the Holy Spirit in the rafters. It's a sweet gift for my soul.

I did all my normal worship routines, things that mean so much to me, and I felt so little.

I stood singing truths, but in my mind I had to force myself to continue.

In scripture it shares to take every thought captive.

I had to do that last night as I sang truth. 

For the entirety of the service, I was combating the lies in my head.

Because the truth is the Christ died so that sinners may have abundant life.

It's a hard truth to remember when big huge securities in your life fall to the side.

And big huge securities in my life fell to the side this past week.

It's been a week of utmost worship to my King Jesus.

Of hard questions, of deep thoughts, of dance parties by myself simply to lighten the mood of my emotions.

It's been a week of worship.

So last night, as I stood in the crowd singing, I kept praying that God would break my hard heartedness.

That He would ruin my stiffness and give me Himself.

And then Oceans came on, and I could barely sing along because I've been singing that song for weeks, and I'm facing the repercussions of it now.

I prayed to have trust without borders and God has broken every border I know to exist.
I prayed for feet that go far, and I've never felt so pushed in my life.

I've felt deep grace in deep waters, abounding grace.

As those words came, I dropped to my knees and finally felt my heart melt.
But not in praise, in desperation.

As I heard my church sing the words, I prayed viciously,
no further.
please no further.
please no further.

I'm not sure what God has for me next, but though my heart is hurt and my life is a little crazy, I do know that He has a good plan.

small.

Through a long and beautiful, fascinating, inspiring, overwhelming, and just plain old amazing series of events, my church has found itself with a new building. I've been attending for about three and a half years, and I've seen the church set up shop in three different buildings. Each week, we carry our stuff in, and carry it out.

Amazingly though, we will now have a home.

It'll take a few weeks for us to get into the building on a Sunday morning, but as a worship team, we're already utilizing the stages and sound equipment.

Tonight was my second time in the building as a worship team member. I was in it last night for a tour, and came back for the Sunday practice tonight.

These are a lot of words to start of a post that really has little to do with church, worship practice, or anything like that.

Practice went well, it ended, and it was almost time to go.

I unplugged my ear buds, put them away, put on my backpack, got ready to head, and then had an idea.

I walked to the center of the stage because I needed to sing.

Not at the top of my lungs, but certainly with some volume, I let out these words.

bless the Lord, oh my soul, oh my soul, worship His holy name.
sing like never before, oh my soul, I'll worship His holy name.

The words echoed out into the room, and this girl felt small.

It was an incredible moment for my heart to simply sing out, in one of the largest rooms I've ever had the chance to sing.

The Lord is big.
I am small.
I am mighty content in my smallness and His greatness.

I am linking up with five minute friday today. It's a sweet link-up where you have a prompt and simply write for five minutes with little to no editing. I love participating when I don't have something already scheduled, or just find myself needing to write.

five minute friday: story

I'm linking up with five minute friday. I'm not quite sure where these words are from, or even what I was trying to say. Maybe I wasn't actually being profound. Maybe I just wrote for five minutes, and all that came out was this. If you're visiting from fmf, be sure to leave a comment. I'd love to get to know you and come read your post as well!

Once upon a time lived a girl with a mighty tall dream.

She would rule the world with a golden sceptor, fly in the clouds, and oh, she would live.

She had all sorts of ideas of the laws she would break, remake, and create.

She drew pictures and painted portraits, wrote poems and stories, all of them pointing to this mighty tall dream.

The dream of forever, the dream of for always, the dream of what was yet to come.

One day, as she was drawing, she heard a song.

It was a beautiful melody, filled with harmonies and poetry. It was loud and yet calm, soothing yet strong. She'd never heard anything like it.

For the first time in her life, she stopped all that she was doing, sat completely still, and simply listened.

She didn't add anything to the song, she didn't take anything away. She simply sat and listened.

The song played on and on, for hours on end, and she listened and listened, and listened some more.

It was a new song, a better song, the prettiest song she'd ever heard.

When it finally finished, she turned back to her drawing and added some bright colours, because her heart was filled with joy.

belong

I'm linking up for five minute friday.

She sat on the outskirts of the room, waiting for an invitation into the conversations. She watched as friends laughed with friends, boys looked at girls, girls glanced away. She listened as their laughter got louder, their words got brighter, and she remained on the edge.

She went again, another night, and found the same thing happening.

She would come. Nobody would notice. She would observe. Nobody would notice. She would go home.

Eventually, she tired of the waiting. She tired of the sitting on the side, the listening and not joining, and she listened to her heart.

She stepped in.

She interrupted the conversations with words of her own.

She told her own stories, her own jokes.

She watched herself be welcomed in.

For years, she had stood on the outskirts, through school, through college, through all sorts of seasons. She's stood on the edge, waiting for her invitation in.

The invitation never came.

Until she invited herself.

Suddenly she found herself busy, loved, adored, exhausted, and exhilarated.

She realized that each of the ones inside had at one time been on the outside, got tired, and stepped in.

She recognized that this is community.

Stepping right in.

five minute friday: rhythm

I have this memory from back when I lived in Africa. On the days when I felt most alone, not because I didn't have people around, but because I missed home, I would watch the sun set. I'd watch it round the horizon and I would know that it would be arriving back home. It brought sweet comfort to my heart.

I found a new pattern when I moved to where I am now. The sun setting still holds sweet beauty, but there's a different rhythm I look for now.

When I find myself overwhelmed, I either go to, or envision the sea.

Even now, I picture the place on the beach where I go. Just over the log, down the rocks, and onto the sandy beach.

I look at the water, and over time, as the minutes and hours pass, I watch the water, rising and falling, just as it should.

I watch the waves reach their mark and then slink backwards. I watch them come to me and leave me. There is such comfort in me, knowing that these waves never go further than they are allowed.

I feel the same when I think of lightning, going only where it is told.

Wind blowing, however fiercely, only because it is allowed.

The moon, bright or dim, only because somebody told it where to stand that night.

There is sweet comfort in these rhythms.

Whether it's the sun or the water, or whatever it is I've found myself fixated on for comfort, it's all sweet comfort. It's good to know that these things go only where they're told, so I can rest easy.


I'm linking up for five minute friday.

Voice

I'm joining in with five minute friday. Welcome here if you're joining me from that neck of the woods. I hope you'll stick around. I've got a long way to go but I sure do love Jesus.


The voices are really loud lately.

Like, really loud.

Telling me that my worth is nothing.
That my tears aren't heard.
That my sorrow will not end.
That God is not near.

And sometimes I catch myself believing them.

Those voices.

I need to remind to myself, every single day, that those voices are lies.

I am loved by the King of Kings.
I was created by the Alpha and Omega.
My thoughts are known by the Beginning and the End.
My plans are watched over by the Good Shepherd.

For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son - Jesus - so that whoever believes in Him will have eternal life.

Eternal life is going to be so good.

Because of Jesus.

So I'm shutting off the voices the only way I know to be effective.
By reading the Bible and learning it well.
So I can combat the lies with truth.

And I'm going to Jesus every single day with my desperate pleas for help.
Because He responds.
He responds with love.
with hope.
with joy.
with truth.
with care.
with compassion.
with sanctification.
with grace.
with so much.

Because His voice is the Voice of Truth.

I love His voice because I know it.

I love His voice.
Because I know it.

And His voice knows my voice.

Sometimes I get blown away by His voice.
Because it always always always always always (I want to keep writing always) always remains.

Look

I've never done this Five Minute Friday thing before but last night moments after midnight, before tucking my face in my pillow for the night, I needed to write a few more words before sleep. These were them.



Look. Will you just let yourself look for one minute? Cause if you do you're going to notice that thing you've been missing.

Open your eyes sweet soul.

Open your joy again.

Look deep into the wells of your heart and grab back onto the hope you've held onto so long. Grab it back! Don't just hold it like it's natural. Recognize that hope is hard and hope is real.

Look! You're starting to catch on. You're starting to see that there is purpose in this season.

Look to the One who you love because He is the One who is always looking at you.

Look dear heart. His love is bigger than your fear. His grace is wider than your shame. His kindness covers your sorrows and His hands are covering you. Wait, His hands are cupping your face, drying your tears, and whispering this:

Look child, I'm here. Hope again.





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