broken stems dancing

{photo by dramaticelegance}

today is the day i forgot my laptop. all i have is twenty-four coloured pencils in their brand-new packaging, and a black ink pen, and the new shinji moon book from rain. and i'm sitting here, tucked neatly away in the corner of the coffee shop, in the frustration, and i've decided to exhale instead.

because i'm eternally grateful for this life, to the One who breathed life in the whispering silence of nothing. and i have hands and fingers and the knowledge to write at all, and that's something alone.

and the homeless man from under the bridge came in with barely enough quarters for hot coffee, hold the cream, and i didn't look up from my phone. because the way he spoke made me uncomfortable. he spoke poverty and a world i didn't know, and it hurt my pride.

and then i looked up and saw the two flowers in the vase in the window, and one was whole and the other was broken. but i didn't judge the broken flower like i did the homeless man. and neither did the other flower in the same vase, in the same world. and their stems touched and draped one over the other.

and i judge me now. silly backwards upside down heart.

:: He promised, after all.

{via pinterest}

come to Me

all you who are laden-heavy

and I will give you rest. 

and He brought the long-haired one into His temple as perfume dripped down from the strands like material world whispers of love. and the men murmured under their breath with priestly robes clutched tight in holier-than-thou fingers,

"He must not know what kind of woman is touching Him."

and He reaches down and lifts her chin, and i catch her eye for the barest second. and i realize, she is me. and i am touching Him. and He loves, oh how He loves.

sometimes, i don't know who this woman is, either. the one who dares to remember His death until He comes. the one who wraps the scarlet chord -- yes, that simple sweet melody written in the blood of the spotless Lamb, the Lion of Judah -- around her soul and clutches there, tight. the one who wanders with the moon to the tune of clucking tongues and shaking head and scolding words.

and i wish i could write the way this music feels when He reaches out and takes my soul in His hand and softly whispers,

daughter
may I have this dance?

amen :: so be it

{via pinterest}

i am in awe of the infinite. i am sitting and meditating hard on this word, amen. there is such depth in such a short word, flippantly flying off the tongue at the end of every prayer, at the pause in every causal heartwish.

but every time i finish a conversation with Him, i whisper a final plea.

amen.
so be it. 

and it's a sacred sort of whisper, the kind that resonate like the roots of a tree, solid in the earth but reaching up toward Heaven even still anchored deep in my memory.

because every word i speak He memorizes, and that's a little fearful to know that He cares so much about every letter that passes my lips that He remembers them all. every one.

and He likes me to ask Him. He knows what i need, but daddies like when their daughters come and ask them things, and Abba God wants me to lean on His knee and whisper, "can i please?"

it's the sacred amen, the faith found in the so be it, even in the shaky stillness when words come halting and hesitating. it's crying into the abyss and being caught up safe in the arms of the One who knew the second my footing trembled.

i thank God for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes

{via pinterest}

:: e.e. cummings

and so i'm becoming less and less afraid to reach up and brush the foot of the Cross because i climbed the hill on bloody hands and knees, whispering "amen, yes, and amen, and yes and amen again."

i'm lighting a candle and pressing my face to the floor because there's something mighty about the lowering, allowing Him to wash my feet because i'm clean already except for the dirt of today's road. and it's the infinite of His glory that swallows me whole. 

and i die to live, drown to breathe.

i'm finding myself

at a loss for words

and the funny thing is

:: it's okay ::

{{word of god speak // mercy me}}