warming to the words

{via pinterest}

this month is already so rich. it's only the third day.

it's November. it's that transition month, that time when autumn and winter are warring for equal time on the Earth and the world can't make up its mind.

when the leaves are fading and falling. no snow to hide the awkward, ugly sticks that poke up from the ground where trees used to be.

grey skies more than sun. it's as if even the world grieves in confusion.

what am i now? 

i write, sometimes collected and sometimes aimlessly, until i reach the end of the thirty days of frenzy, and then i sit back and stare at the masterpiece that i did not make, even though i tried so hard that i nearly broke. 

but this year is different already. 

it's only the third day of the month. and the skies are grey, as always. and the leaves are tumbling down, and the rain and ice are mid-battle outside my window.

but i'm warm here. 

i'm hearing this Voice clearer this month. i'm seeing hard decisions laid out at my feet made clear, made sound, made safe.

He's teaching me things

{via pinterest}

things like Trust. in others, in myself, in him and in Him both.

i'm learning to see words as a gift. not a frantic race to 50,000. this time to write, to pour out, is a gift that my King and November have joined together to give me as the most precious of presents.

i feel like a child, little hand clutching a pen while a larger Hand wraps around mine.

little one, see? write like this. 

I've got you, dearheart.

the  Lover of our souls has not forgotten us. the clouds hide the sun but not the Son. He sees us clear, unchanging.

i'm warm here in Him. 

i think i'll go write more words with Him now. watching my word count rise, and His mercies rise alongside.

we're a team, He and i. writing this book together, Father and daughter.

oh, what a place to be.

{linking with Laura at The Wellspring. this precious playdate with me and Him}

small in the large

There are only four questions of value in life. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same: only love. ~Johnny Depp

this is my mantra.

this is my breath. 

for what am i if not a product of love and Love made flesh? of this Word that walked and stepped and bled for me and me alone?

this product of Love, i am. from this expanse of Almighty and All-Seeing comes this child.

why then...

oh, why do we insist on making Him smaller? 

are we that insecure, that blind to Him?

it makes me ache.

for He is sacred. He is spirit and flesh and God and Man. 

for me, He lived and wept and stepped.

for me, He broke and bled and died.

this wondrous thing.

this wondrous One. 

He is my value.

Adopted

Alek and I, 2011
Photo by DramaticElegance

For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, “Abba! Father!” ~Romans 8:15

I'm adopted. 

While to you, this may seem slightly insignificant, it is indeed one of the most intrinsic parts of my life. 


Ever since I was a little girl, I've know that I had another mom and another family. I was told from a very early age that my teenaged birthmother loved me very much, but wanted to give me a better life with two loving parents. 


I'm also part of a growing adoption vein known as "open adoption," in which I and my parents maintain a close relationship with my biological mother and any family members who wish to stay involved. 


I have spent Christmases, birthdays, various holidays, and even just casual summer afternoons with my mother, step-father, grandparents, great-aunts, and the most recent addition of my now-15-month-old brother, Alek. Each and every one of them have remained such a wonderful part of my life...my biological family all attended my wedding, and my step-father even walked me halfway down the aisle. 


My adoptive family is beyond incredible. My parents waited and prayed for eight years to become parents. In 1990, they met my birthmother and adopted me...in 1992, they met my sister's birthmother and grandmother, and adopted my little sister the following spring. 


This afternoon, I traveled with my adoptive mommy to attend my great-grandmother's 90th birthday celebration. It was quite a barrage of emotions and feelings to see each member of my biological family again...as it is every time I visit them. 


I hope they know how much they all mean to me, really. I do my best to tell them...but I'm honestly not sure how to fully put it into words. 


They didn't have to keep me in their lives...but they did with open arms and loving hearts. 


They didn't have to continue to keep in contact with me for the past 20 years...but they have, and have made me feel like I truly am a part of their incredible family.


They didn't have to love me the way they do...but they do, with all their hearts. 

Me and my biological mother, Barb
Photo by DramaticElegance

It continually blows my mind.


I have been blessed beyond all words to have such an incredible adoptive family, and such a wonderful biological family. 


The legacy of faith flowing through my blood and carried strong through my linage is unmistakable, and a powerful blessing. 


I belong to three families. 


One by salvation, one by genes, one by choice.


All by love. 


See how great a love the Father has bestowed on us, that we would be called children of God; and such we are. ~1 John 3:1