magnolia roots ::

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i drove in my car today with the windows down with the blossom breezes flooding my nose. and i inhaled and my heart whispered to my soul, this is my sea. because some people have seaside breezes with salt and adventure, while i have suburbia with its sidewalks and blooming magnolia trees.

and the cherry blossoms swayed in the breeze and murmured, remember what you have remembered. 

because i think a lot about the trees during the springtime when everything becomes new and green. and i think about Jesus and the blind man, and the spit made mud smeared on his eyes by the hands of the One that kissed the dirt to life in the first place.

what do you see?
i see men...they look like trees, walking about.

and maybe he was right on point with this strange metaphor. we are more than human, more than flesh and bone and sinew and blood. we have roots that sink down, down deep into the soil, reaching and winding together with all the others, and the Life that pours from one enters the other.

unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone. 

and alone is something that doesn't touch, an empty death of sorts, a vague immortality that leaves the seeker empty-handed and the warrior without a sword.

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i'm all about seeking these days, becoming the one with the mud-smeared eyes, because i want to see what He sees and less of what i think i should be seeing. i want to see Truth, not some misshapen passed-around hat that reeks of foolishness and the sweat of too much doing and not enough peace be still.

and i'm tired of looking around to seeing one closed door after another while the least of these is standing in the middle of the street naked and alone. and so many offended cheeks are turned while the Son of the Most High weeps in harmony with the cries of His beautiful lonely ones.

and so i'm being a tree with magnolia flowers in my hair and reaching out my fingers to the ones with the words i can't even bring myself to type streaked in tears and blood on their faces. i'm reaching out my roots to touch a thousand faces and draw them in where peace abounds.

she was forgiven much
because she loved much.

{a beautiful sister is giving away a piece of her sea, of the mermaid she is within. you can find rain and her beautiful life-giving giveaway here.}

fall fresh on me // avocado

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i've always been captivated by the inside. by the stuff that no one sees, the painting underneath the varnish that was forgotten for a hundred years until one brave chisel flaked away the dark to show the light.

and it's springtime, or almost, and i'm watching as life is fighting winter every minute and every second to find its way out of the ground and into the blue sky world out here.

i saw a little girl find a feather the other day, and she smiled and held it up, and the silken strands were still so strong despise the wind and rain and squashy mud all around. and my soul picked up the feather too and tucked it in my hair, the little girl in my heart throwing back long dark waves of hair and laughing to the sky

Spirit of the living God,
;; fall fresh on me

and i'm starting to find God in the little things again, the things i forgot. and i know i've written here a thousand times about the beautiful ones, the almost hidden ones in the Bible, the ones He noticed that were invisible to everyone else.

it's the slicing of the avocado, that thick black shell melting away under silver to reveal the green of nourishment and the thick pit that holds life at even its tiny tight-locked core. and it's marvelous how much life can be wrapped up in something so wrinkled and unappealing to the eye.

sometimes i feel the pain of that knife slicing so smooth through the vileness that has built up around the life potential He placed in my heart of hearts. and it hurts so that i falter and weep and beg

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Spirit of the living God
:: fall fresh on me

and then the green is seen, and the life tucked away deep within comes to the surface and blooms rich like springtime with glory and life shining from every pore. oh, how i ache to be radiant, to cover my face with a veil for the Light bursting from me to every corner.

now i feel infant fingers pull at long waves of my raven-wing hair, and i bring down my own fingers on the soft ginger gosling down that clings to the head of my beautiful little one. i think of future days when i will brush her hair and tell her about feathers and grace and the Light of the Son.

but for now, she falls asleep on my shoulder and lets loose the sweetest of baby sighs, and i feel something stir deep inside my soul. it's that little girl, tucking the feather behind her ear. she sits beneath a tree with the soles of her feet pressed together and elbows on knees.

and she whispers soft like the newcoming springtime breezes

Spirit of the living God,
:: fall fresh on me

Still

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~Anaïs Nin

Life is complicated.

There are so many things that play into every day life, even those things that we primarily take for granted.

...even when we don't notice, things are complex.

It takes more than just the passing of time -- the turning of moments into years -- for someone to mature.

It takes the rain. The heat. The storms. The pressure. The pruning. The pain.

These things are not always realities that are easy for us to grasp. We want things to fall into place without any work or discomfort. We just want everything to be perfect right away.

And so we push away the pain. We shy away from anything that could possibly be the slightest bit uncomfortable...that might be hard.

We shut down the growth.

We settle into a pool of stagnant water...unmoving and unchanging. It may seem still and serene for the moment, but it eventually grows foul and rank, filled with impurities that cannot be swept away.

The foulness is trapped...we are imprisoned by our own good intentions.

...except Him.

...we hit rock bottom.

Sometimes, even the little things like breathing are almost too much to handle.

So many times, it feels like the entire ground is just shaking...nothing is standing still...

Sometimes, all you can do is reach up and take His hand, trusting Him to not let go.

I promise you -- He never lets go.

The world is unsteady sometimes.

He never moves.

When my world is shaking, Heaven stands. When my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands. ~Your Hands, JJ Heller