seashell grooves

sometimes i wonder why God gave seashells little grooves on top and on the sides.

they're so beautiful as it is.

why put the bumps? 

the rough spots

the little cracks 

that could be counted as blemishes to their delicate grace?

and then i wonder as i'm asked to

link up a post, old or new, that you feel is broken or imperfect.

why my broken pieces? why my flawed canvas?

don't you want to see what i can do? what good things i have in my treasure chest?

and then i take a look through my little wooden box, the same way an innocent child seeks to find something precious to share with daddy.

but to my shame i realize that i'm all broken.

via pintrest

every last one of my treasures are cracked, or broken, or riddled with flaws of this and that.

and i hold up my nothings like a disappointed child to whomever may still love me.

and my Daddy picks it up. exclaiming over it as though i have some long-forgotten riches that the world has sought for centuries

and then i see.

i see it well.

this broken treasure is all He wants. because it's all i have.

and i am His child. and like a loving Father, He delights in what i have. in what i can do. in those little things to which He leads me day after day.

if He demanded my perfection

i'd be lost.

perfection is not what He asks for....

...He asks for my imperfect prose. 

He asks for my grooves. 

linking up with emily at imperfect prose
also featured at heather's beautiful corner of raining silence

fantasy (third giveaway)

item no. 1

THIS GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED.

i love books. i love being able to dream. 

i love the concoction of new worlds which i never could have touched before. i love having a new world to enter every time i close my eyes and open the rustling pages of a brand-new portal. 

hogwarts
alagasia

narnia

wonderland

never-never land

mossflower wood 

these are the places of magic. these are the places that have inspired this third giveaway. 

three beautiful shops have volunteered their stunning workmanship to this giveaway out of the sheer goodness of their hearts, and their own love of printed magic. 

this is also the giveaway that will celebrate my twenty-first year of life. twenty-one years of dreaming. of wishing. of imagining. all culminating on the 23rd of september. 

item no. 2

my greatest and most beautiful thanks to anafiassa (Jenny), Bramblewood Fashion (Ashley), and PrettyLittleCharmsUK (Leigh) for their own taste of the printed realms. 

Item No. 1: the Ice-Fruit necklace from anafiassa. 

Item No. 2: "Lucy" -- Narnian-inspired earrings from Bramblewood Fashion.

Item No. 3: Harry Potter Snape & Patronus Charm necklace from PrettyLittleCharmsUK

Item No. 4: Harry Potter snitch locket from PrettyLittleCharmsUK

Here is how to enter to win one of these three beautiful items (leave a separate comment PER ENTRY, please. Also, please include your email or blog link in at least one of the entry comments).


(IMPORTANT NOTE: If you are one of my lovely international readers...i.e. not from the United States...please comment as such in one of your entry comments. This giveaway is certainly open to you, as well, but one of these shops is not an international shipper. Many lovely thanks!)

Entry No. 1 (mandatory): if you could step into the pages of any book, any magical world, any place that dwells not on this plane of existance, where would it be? where does it come from? and why would you chose that place? (+1)

Entry No. 2 (mandatory): follow this blog and put the new and improved button on your sidebar. (+1)

item no. 3

Entry No. 3: blog/tweet/Facebook about the giveaway, and leave a link to your post/tweet/blog post in the comment. (+3, one entry per and one comment per, please)

Entry No. 4: go to Jenny's shop, heart it (if you have an Etsy), and comment with your favourite item from her shop. (+2)

Entry No. 5: go to Ashley's shop, heart it (if you have an Etsy), and comment with your favourite item from her shop. (+2)

Entry No. 6: go to Leigh's shop, heart it (if you have an Etsy), and comment with your favourite item from her shop. (+2)

item no. 4

this world is full of other worlds. foreign and sweet. dangerous and full of adventure. 

places where fauns leap

mice and badgers lead human-esque lives

young wizards find their place under four banners
where riding dragons is a legacy of warriors

and fairy dust leads you home again. 

you're never too old to dream. 

i'm about to turn 21. the age of "growing up." 

i refuse to grow up if it means i have to stop dreaming

if i have stop looking in wardrobes

or cheering for Gryffindor

or tumbling down the rabbit hole.

so when i am old, they will say, "after all this time?"

and i will say

always

This giveaway closes on October 4th at midnight CST. Winners will be drawn that night using Random, and announced the following day. Winners will have 48 hours to claim their gifts, or new names will be drawn. 

winner (August Giveaway Winners)

the time has come again.

the entries have been given. the gifts have been beautiful.

and now the winners are to be chosen.

i cannot thank Molly and Claire enough for everything they have done to make this a place of charm and delight.

and now, please join me in congratulating the three winners of this inspired giveaway, chosen via Random.

Melody -- beautiful song or strain of music, authoress of Vividry, winner of item no. 1: afternoon coffee petite glass earrings. 

A dream I have yet to complete... being able to play a song on the violin... something that sounds beautiful. 

******

Ashley -- vision, authoress of Cherry-O, winner of item no. 2: any scrabble pendant of her choice. 

 Own a little white and green cottage in Ireland, surrounded by a lovely rose garden and a white picket fence. I think I'll have a cat or two lounging in the window seat. A tea table is spread out every day, and it will be my little heaven on earth. There I will write my great masterpieces and be known around the world as a dreamer or dreams.

******

Destiny -- fate, authoress of Adorkable, winner of item no. 3: any scrabble pendant of her choice

Always wanted to go to Paris and bring along a vintage camera that works!

******

my delight for you all is beyond words. please send me an email (dramaticelegance1009 [at] yahoo [dot] com) accepting your gift, along with your mailing address. 

for those of you who won the scrabble pendants, please also send a link to which one you would like from Claire's shop. 

may blessings abound

and may your dreams never grow smaller

only bigger. 

mummy

photo by PinkStudios Photography

today, my mum turns 50. 

honestly, i have a hard time believing that's true.

maybe it's because i just can't see my mom aging. or maybe it's because she hasn't changed hardly a bit since i was a little girl.

of course, she's updated her hair and her wardrobe choices

the credit for this can primarily be given to my little sister

burning the black and pink-floral stirrup pants

and modernized shopping sprees

but honestly, she hasn't changed. 

she's still my mommy. she's still the one that brought us coffee in bed and read us books every morning, even though we didn't always want to take part. 

she's the one that surprised us all several years ago when she ran break-neck speed up a hill to play an improptu game of hide-'n'-seek while we were out for a walk.

she's the one that does the funny faces, the "ostrich neck," and attempted to do the cupid shuffle on our Florida vacation.

she's the one that laughs so hard that she can't stop. 

who can't be tickled, or else she gets injured (every single time). the one who takes forever to pack for vacation, and then brings enough for a month on a week-long vacation. 

she's the one who passionately loves my father, and has worked alongside him for more than 25 years. 

she's the one i still call when my heart aches. she's the one known for a listening ear and a tender heart. 

her prayers shake the world.  

her children will rise up and call her blessed.

mummy, i am rising up and calling you blessed. 

you have done wonderously. you have walked the path to heaven, and we are following you close behind. i am so glad to have you in my life, to call you Muvver and Mummy and Mummy Dearest. 

thank you for adopting me. thank you for opening your heart to another woman's child. thank you for following the call of God and marrying Daddy. thank you for making us a family. 

thank you for loving me regardless. thank you for wanting me. for caring for me. for being everything you are and have been to me. 

happy birthday, mummy.

 i love you

seventy-eight

some little things inspire.

some things ruin.

some things carry a tradition of imperfection long after they're gone.

to be honest, i know not what will be mine.

not really.

i just want to leave something behind. but then again

who doesn't want to be remembered for who they were

or

how they lived. it's one of those complicated things. not even sure where to start

or where to end.

i start here.

i end at the cross.

<a border="0" href="http://dramaticelegance.blogspot.com/2011/08/seventy-eight.html" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1227.photobucket.com/albums/ee430/dramaticelegance1009/tumblr_lpbtq72p5o1r0ldpxo1_500_large1.jpg" /></a>
this post contains 78 words. no more, no less. exactly 78 words, minus this caption. 
put your pen to page.
 what can you imagine...what can you inspire in 78 words? 
link up below. put the image in your post, and link back so we can all be blessed. 
(inspired by Esquire's short short fiction contest)

positivities. {61-70}

(via Pintrest)

another week has come upon us. another Monday has now arrived.

unlike last Monday's good-morning perfection, this Monday has already asserted itself in an attempt to bring me down under a chanting weight

so much to do.

so little time.

long. days. ahead.

i suppose, in a way, this little voice is speaking a measure of truth. 

i do have a great deal to accomplish today. 

i do only have 24 hours in this day, nine of which I have already slept away. 

and yes, this week has the potential to be either remarkably wonderful or disgustingly hideous. at this point, it could really go either way. 

but i have a choice.

 i could either allow myself to become overwhelmed by all that lies before me, take all of my hard and somewhat heartwrending situations of the week and internalize them, and then explode under the extreme pressure...

...or i can stop. i can breathe. i can know the Truth, and hold it closer than ever. and i can walk the path, doing what needs to be done...all the while remembering to breathe, and remembering to lean on the One who carries me through it all. 

and i can remember to be blessed. 

• 61. my mother and sister are coming HOME. tuesday night. after almost three insanely long months without my best friend-slash-sister, and one without my dearest mother...they are finally returning back to the USA. please forgive me a moment while my father and i go leap about the still very empty farmhouse like overly-caffeinated bunnies.
• 62. one month to go until opening night. it's almost here. i can taste it for it's closeness. i just have to survive the next month of off-book act polishing and tech/set conundrums until that curtain finally opens and i can say it's done.
• 63. laundry. the one chore i hate more than any other. but for all its hassle, it bears a certain measure of calming silence in that mostly-deserted laundryroom. save for the humming of the machines, all is quiet. and i can find a moment of stillness there. 
• 64. the continaul reminders that i am not alone in this walk of life. the message from a friend saying, that meant so much, just that talk. the little email with its words of wish you were here with me. these are the little comforts. 
• 65. spending hours talking with my dear engaged best friend. receiving text messaged pictures of the most flawless vintage wedding dress, discussing colour schemes and bachlorettes, and remembering that this path to the altar and to her adoring new groom is growing shorter with each passing day.
• 66. the new writers blog. it means the world to me. to ali. to dreams come true and visions realized. 
• 67. rango and tangled. being a child for just a few hours, laughing and loving those animated films which delight my soul. 
• 68. crying. the healing power of tears as they pour down my cheeks. the gentle reminder of the One who knows my heart. just a little while, dearheart. a little while and all will be as it was again. just wait a little while. 
• 69. His mercies. oh, may i never cease to praise Him. 
• 70. pintrest. whiling away the hours, listing and pinning and admiring such beauty. an addition, to be sure. a blessing, even still. 

this week could go either way. i have much to do, and little time. 

but i am not so small as my enemy would like me to believe. 

for greater is He who is in me

than he who is of the world. 

linking up with multitudes on monday.
a beautiful challenge. never forget. 

countryside

It is only in the country that we can get to know a person or a book.  ~Cyril Connolly

i grew up on a farm.

or rather, i can't remember any part of my childhood life outside of my parents' countryside home.

i grew up in silence. in serenity. with nature. with animals.

surrounded by nothing but beauty, no matter the season. 

no traffic sounds or honking horns.open fields and white fences. slopping hills and soft green grass.

little kittycat mews and snuffling equine neighs. metal grate fences and gravel-dirt paths. the mooing of cows and the echoing cry of a faraway night train.

barefoot in the backyard

daisies in my hair

i always thought i was a city girl. my teenage self envied the town life that my friends told me about, being surrounded by friends and walking to get ice cream or see a movie. 

i hated the country. i wanted a city lifestyle. and when i grew up and said i do, town life became my life. barely a ten minute drive from my childhood home, but oh, so very different.

no more cows or corn fields. now i have traffic under my window, and streetlights on every corner. 

but i know better now.

now i look for occasions to take my husband

also a country boy

and go back home.

to spend hours under my favourite old maple tree in the backyard, curled up with a book and one of my feline companions. 

apple cider and a knitted blanket around a smokey-warm fire in the charcoal pit with my family. 

with autumn coming close, i anticipate those upcoming golden-toned afternoons more than anything else. 

and then comes silver-sprinkled winters that conjure ideas of candy canes and steamy mochas by the fireplace. but that's another post for a later day. 

i may live in town now, perhaps even with the rest of my life. and i love my cozy apartment, and my town-life with my husband...please don't mistake me for even a moment. 

but the country holds my heart. 

woodpile

(via Heather @ Pintrest)

i drove by my parents' farm this morning to pick something up from my dad.

took a little wander down to the pole barn-slash-woodshed to check on my numerous kitties. when i moved out, they stayed behind. my daddy has discovered that he actually loves cats, and takes very good care of them for me.

at first glance, the barn was entirely empty

save for the woodpile 

and a few bits of machinery

and then i saw the ears. 

two tiny, fuzzy points sticking up from a small pile of wood

perched above a pair of wide golden eyes and a innocent little pink nose.

it was a stray kitten. scared to death. i could see it shaking. 

i could almost hear its thoughts as it stared right at me. 

please don't notice me. 

go away.

please don't see me. 

slowly, i turned to go. 

little kitty bolted. break-neck speed toward another woodpile, in which it hid. 

i am that little kitten.

doing my best to blend into the woodwork, begging all my fears

(via Natalie @ Pintrest)

please don't see me. 

go away.

just let me hide. 

and then, for whatever reason, i break cover and run as fast as i can. i'm too scared to just wait for the scary thing to turn and leave me alone. 

i get a burst of courage. and i run to safety. 

for a kittycat, it's a woodpile.

for me

it's a wooden cross.

prematurely linking up with The Wellspring.
perhaps not a playdate per se, but oh what joy . 

 

growing real.

"The Christian does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us." ~C.S. Lewis


it's a funny thing, this concept of growth.


honestly, it's not what i expected it would be, or what it would feel like. 

it's so much scarier than i ever imagined.

if you've been following me at this blog for any length of time, you will have noticed that i have made a lot of changes in my writing style. the way i express myself has truly molded into truth as time has passed. 

in the beginning, i was never real. i never shared my 

pain

struggles

heartache

i never talked about the hard things.

i wrote what i was sure people wanted to hear. 

what was the popular way to feel? what was the right way to write? what was okay to share? where was the imaginary line in the sand that i dared not cross?

i have only recently begun to let go of my own intense perfectionism. 

this includes writing with much more abandon, less drafting and more living. and honestly, it means letting go of capitalization sometimes and just letting things flow. 

i'm still learning how to let go, how to let the Gardener prune me into His most beautiful creation. growth is a funny thing. 

sometimes, it really hurts. and oh, it's terrifying. 

i have the occasional minor moments of panic after posting something that isn't a ray of sunshine or a post regarding the beauty of daisy petals. 

pray for me.

because more than anything, i want to be changed. 

i want to be clay on His wheel.

i want to become a new thing. 

a fresh thing. a clean thing.

a real thing.

(first post at Eat, Pray, Write this morning. giveaway ends in five days.)

Behold, I will do a new thing, now it shall spring forth; shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. ~Isaiah 43:19

Linking up with Jen and this beautiful weekly sisterhood.
Soli Deo Gloria

Driver

No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.  ~Lin Yutang

I really do love driving.

Yes, I do prefer other methods of transportation far more than being driven anywhere.

But when I am the one behind the wheel

for whatever reason

it's different. 

i don't think i know why.

Today, I spent eight hours in the car. 

For three of those seemingly endless moments, I was the passenger. The blissful remainder, I was the driver. 

It was cruelly hot. The sun was ridiculously bright, and even my overhead shields did nothing to ward off its pounding rays against my arms and cheeks. 

My car radio has a weird quirk, in that I cannot play a song too loud or else it crackles horribly. 

But honestly, I didn't care. Not even a little.

The windows were down, and the music was as loud as my stereo's odd personality would allow. 

oh, the freedom.

a car is one thing. but my life...

that's another thing completely. 

It's a relief, I think, to not have to drive my life. 

when i'm the one behind the wheel of this vintage-styled

 rachel lee 1990

i tend to wreck it more than i should. 

What a relief to know that the wheel is in His hands

and I am asleep in the passenger seat. 

The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps. ~Proverbs 16:9

Launch

Today is a beginning.

Today marks the launch of an answered dream.

It is the start of something which I have been planning on doing for quite some time, that has now fully come to fruition.

Today is the start of answered prayers.

today, a new writing blog was launched.

In collaboration with my best friend and literary soul sister, Alexandria (Petals and Freckles), we have together begun a writing blog. It is a place to post our thoughts, our inspiration, and our novel-esque ideas for the world at large to enjoy and survey. 

It is also our headquarters for our 2011 NaNoWriMo endeavors. We are writing separate novels, but we will be cheering and coaching one another on, and this new blog gives us the most wonderful opportunity to walk this road together. 

We will both continue to post on our respective blogs as normal. So please, fear not, loves. Nothing is being lost or moved from here to there. 

It is simply an expansion. 

And so, with awe and wonder at the majesty of my King, I am humbled and honoured to present to you

Eat, Pray, Write

tidbits.

I never write random posts.

Truly, not ever.

Which, in all honesty, is very odd.

I am an incredibly eclectic person with a whimsical mind that tends to wander a bit more than perhaps it should at times.

But today has been so dreadfully hot, as though the fingers of the sun had become lonesome in their cooler home, begging for just one more moment to turn the earth into a simmering mass of melted souls.

Perhaps it is this vile heat, drawing me down into a puddle of nothing but dreams.

 Perhaps it is simply the creative spirit within me, whispering

compose again

dance again

write again

that draws out a need to speak in regards of some lovely wisps of colour that have passed alongside me today.

• this blog. a place laden with tea leaves and Jane Austen, laden with the aroma of Earl Grey and whispers of vintage dreams yet uncovered. this place belongs to my best friend, Alexandria, of whose mid-March engagement I wrote about here. this is not her first attempt at blogging, but this is hopefully her last attempt and first complete success. i promise that you will not be disappointed by her writings in the least. visit her, stop and say hello, if you would?

• the slight design changes i let myself make to the blog tonight. simple new header, new quote from my favourite authour. just the little things. do you like? 

• the summertime wonder of crickets chirruping and cicadas trilling. the beauty of this warm evening's soundtrack, shutting out the nonsense and drawing out the stillness in me again. 

• this song. could it be any more perfect for a day like this? it's a silhouette of perfection. i am lost in its wonder. 

• the wonder of my King. oh, how His glory endures. 

• the final week of my giveaway is upon us. take a moment and enter. i promise you will not be disappointed with what is in store. 

• the impact that imperfect prose on thursdays has had on my writing. everything is different. i'm letting go of so much inner perfection, my incesant need to be flawless at all times. i'm learning to fall in love with lowercase letters and let the magic flow without my inner voice wailing at me to edit just once more. and so, my dear Emily, I thank you.   

These are my evening wonders. 

forgive me my tidbits. 

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.  ~e.e. cummings

ink of wait.

(via Belinda @ Pintrest)

it's nothing really.

nothing worth mentioning

but i'm scared.

i feel like i've said this before.

i'm scared of all this newness that is me. i'm scared of this rebirth that is being thrust against me 

time and 

time and 

time and 

time 

again. 

you have so much talent. you're wasting it here. why don't you follow your friends to university? 

the three years worth of familial well-meaning words cut like the lies mixed with truth that they are...

because really i'm not wasting anything.

why don't i go? i'm not called.

but i have wasted nothing.

this is rebirth, i would say. and it's painful.

and oh, how afraid i am

that this might all be loss. all be shame. having to turn and face them all again saying 

i was wrong. He was wrong.

what solace to know that this will never happen.

He is not wrong. 

He is never wrong. 

if His voice speaks wait a while

then wait i must. 

this is writing. this is pouring out my soul like ink upon faded parchment pages. 

this is nothing i regret. 

this is not waste. 

this is wait.

Linking up with Emily at Imperfect Prose on Thursdays
This is my weekly song

Also, please don't forget to enter my August giveaway. (Ends on August 31st). 

natural.

I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.  ~John Muir

It's raining today.

Again.

I don't really even know how much rain we've had this summer, but it's been an incredibly high amount. How many times have I awoken to the shuddering crash of thunder, followed by a blinding jolt of zig-zag electricity?

More than I can count.

It's actually raining outside my window right now. I can hear the rush of the cars through the puddles on the street, the damp whisper of the leaves in the wind.

But it's not raining in my head.

In my head, I'm wandering through green hills, rolling and speckled with ruins that speak of days unseen for a thousand years.

It's not raining there. It's sunny, blue skies with the most beautiful whisper of clouds across the skies. I'm not saying I crave perfection. I just crave the utmost glories of nature.

Rain, stay if you must.

For in my head, you are merely the soundtrack to the Jane Austen vision flowing behind my eyes.

I crave the natural.

I crave the green.

(This post was written draftless. No editing, no stopping, no saving for later. I wrote as I wrote, and stopped when I stopped. This is the meaning of draftless.)

draftless. {challenge}

I want to fit. I want to be accepted, no matter what I do or what I say. I want to keep my fingers crossed and my eyes wide shut to the imperfections of this vessel that is me.

But I can't seem to shut my eyes as tight as I would like.

I can still see all the cracks. Every last cracked and battered shard until there is nothing but the damage.

After hours of thinking, this is what I realized.

i write too many drafts.


it's so much more than just saving now for later.

it's overthinking. overknowing.

it's too much.

and i can't stop myself.

i keep going back and

editing

editing

editing 

again and again until my inspiration has become uniform and my former dreams conform to yours.

but then i get scared of what you might think of me and i leave my draft unpublished.

another bit of broken pottery.

so i write another.

and another

and another

until my dashboard is flooded with orange italics and too many unfinished thoughts.

count your drafts. how many do you have, really? is it just one? is it five, or ten, or twenty, or one hundred?

four. four drafts too many.

not today. not this time.

no edits, no overthinking. just writing as i think, thinking as i write.

i am His first draft.

why can't this be mine?

This is me draftless.

This is my challenge to you. Don't think or edit or write countless drafts. Just sit at your computer and write. As long or as short as you wish...just let the words flow like water from your mind to your fingertips and out into the world. Then link up below. 

Take the plunge and go draftless. 

restoration. {51-60}

It's back again.


Monday, that is...although this morning has been so beautiful and peaceful that I think that "Monday" may have decided to wait another day to appear, and that I have instead reawakened on Sunday.


There is something so beautifully peaceful about this morning. It's a reminder to me as to why I don't write these posts on Sunday nights and schedule them to post the next day.


True, one of those reasons is because I have yet to figure out the whole concept of successfully scheduling my posts. But the other is because of the powerful beauty in awakening to a morning of twittering birds and cool almost-autumnal breezes.

• 51. An almost perfect week of OZ! rehearsals. I may have just set a theatrical jinx upon myself, but these past three practices have flowed like a summertime stream, and we are actually currently ahead. Lord, let this endure.

• 52. The sweet pain of correction, and knowing that I have a dear one in my life with the courage to pull me aside and speak words of change into my heart. "You have to let go, or else you will be consumed...you are beautiful and undeniably precious...you are not an untouchable."

• 53. Food. A simple blessing, you may think. But to me, this is a gift worthy of mentioning. Food is becoming an art to me...the complex combination of flavour and presentation, tugging on all five senses with sensory fingers of delight. Is this bringing me back to the days when I wanted to make my life out of edibles and create culinary masterpieces for a profession. A dream rekindled, perhaps?

• 54. A young teenager who holds the door for me, sincerely and without parental pressure. Chivalry is not so dead as we once feared.

• 55. |An afternoon of laughter with my husband, my father, and my visiting grandmother whom I have not seen since last spring. Sharing stories of my father's childhood adventures over plates of stunning food...laughing until we couldn't stop with tears pouring down our faces. 

• 56. Our church. This place has touched the face of God. 18 months ago, we followed the call of God and took our seats in this place for the first time. May we never look back.

• 57. Curling into a pair of strong arms, feeling so secure and calmed by the touch of my dearest Love. Kisses on my forehead and nightly reminders that I am treasured, that I now walk this road as two instead of one, that I have a witness in this life. In case you wondered, I believe in soulmates. And I have truly found mine. 

• 58. Hearing my sister's voice, from Italy to America via technology. How I miss her and my mother both. One more week without them, and then...the most beautiful of homecomings. 

• 59. Wrestling with God, and being undone by His mercy. 

• 60. Finding myself again. This broken vessel has a use in His hand. I can be fixed. I am not forever destroyed.

These are my blessings. Some fleeting, to be sure. 

But most? How they will endure until the end of time and beyond.


The inspiration overwhelms me on mornings such as this one. The voice of my God is an echoing whisper in my soul, forever reminding and forever loving.

My cup runneth over. 


We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed...for our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. ~2 Corinthians 4:8-9, 17-18

Linking with Ann, as I have done every Monday since July.
However, I have just now found the graphic.
Nine days left to enter into my August giveaway. 

Rêve

I dreamed a dream in time gone by / When hope was high / And life worth living / I dreamed that love would never die / I dreamed that God would be forgiving / Then I was young and unafraid / And dreams were made and used and wasted / There was no ransom to be paid / No song unsung, no wine untasted... ~I Dreamed A Dream, Les Miserables

I dream a lot. 

It's something I've dealt with ever since I was about four years old, and I discovered books. 

It was like a door burst open in my soul...I found myself entirely unable to reign in my imagination. 

Since then, I have come to my own conclusion.

Everyone's a dreamer.

We all have our secret longings, whether we're willing to admit them or not.

Some of us are more expressive with our dreams. We write bucket lists, pouring our innermost longings into our imaginings, be they exceptionally easy or intensely complicated to achieve.

They are all different, depending on the dreamer, but every wish and every heartcry has one thing in common.

There is passion locked behind each and every dream.

Maybe it's something we found in the pages of a book, a winding forest path lined with fairies and mysterious flowers found nowhere else.

Or perhaps it's something we were born to explore...a familial heritage that we too seek to achieve. 

 

Regardless of the dream, no matter what the wish may be, there is one thing that remains the same. 

Your way is secure. 

Your path is laid by the hand of the ultimate Waymaker, the One who sets the world to turning.

He sees your heart and knows your dreams.  

So don't be afraid. 

Rest. 

Be still.  

Embrace the silence.

Let go

and dream. 

“Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” ~Ephesians 4:20

(Also, don't forget about the giveaway. Only ten days left to enter to win some beautiful jewelry.)
(Guest posting here this week!)