burning Real

{via pinterest}

i'm twenty-two. and i'm just now starting to understand what it means to be real.

it's more than just existing, brushing my hair and putting on the same pair of shoes every day for a week. it's more than breathing, the inhale and exhale that i don't think about, i just do.

it's about that giving up and that allowing for ashes on the face, from clinging to the Fire that burns like white-hot glory in your soul. it's about the understanding that He is greater, higher, stronger, than i could ever be. and that's okay, because He is the Lion and i am His lamb.

once you become Real, you can never be ugly

except to people who don't understand. 

and i'm okay with being barefoot in the sand, because i'm treading on holy ground and there's nothing i want more than to be in this place of sheer and complete emptiness, full of Him and empty of me.

there's a sweet silence in the mantra spoken under my breath in the candlelight when He and i meet. it's precious, Abba God teaching me how to roar. and i'm still soft and squeaky and tumbling over my own tail at the snap of a twig. but we start again, and again, and He's patient even though i break His heart.

it's in pursuit of Real, of the nail-pierced hand on my cheek, guiding my tears into the bottle He keeps on His shelf.

it's about realizing that you're small, and that's okay, and you're worn, and that's okay too. because through the soot and the tumbling and the ink-stained fingertips, He's making you new.

and so i'll sit in the right place, tucked at His feet. it's all the dance, this step right and step left and settle in here.

with Your arms around me
i'm home. 

{linking with dear emily where we rejoice in imperfection}