breathing phoenix rain

{via pinterest}

sometimes i wonder just what i am. i wonder if all this writing i do ever amounts to anything, if all it will ever do is sit in the recesses of my computer.

every time i read over my old work -- those worlds of my own creation, those characters whom i love like pieces of myself -- i wonder if anyone will ever see them, ever treasure them like i do.

and if they did see, would they love? or would my mountain become their molehill, lost in translation and unconveyed in their importance to me, to the world?

this fear almost cripples me. it's almost enough to jerk my words from me into darkness and shut the light tight on all my aspirations.

but without words

i wouldn't be able to breathe. 

not really. because see, that's what He gave me. to some He gave song, and to some He gave paint, and to others He gave a stand.

but i received words. He poured them into my soul, wove my spirit from ink and parchment and inspiration that i have yet to fully uncover. and He begs me

be writer, dearheart.

be this thing I made you to be. 

:: be writer ::

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and so i keep writing. not for money or fame or any sort of plans set in stone.

but for love. 

only for love. 

and in this darkness, in the silence of night, my fingers grasped something and held on tightly. and i set my fingers to paper, and the ashes parted to reveal that which was hidden.

phoenix rain.

right now, there is so little. but it's enough to pull at me. for love, for wings, for future and dreams.

i have my breath. my paint, my canvas.

my story. 

her story. 

:: His story ::

all together now.

{unwrapping this glory today with emily}

wanting need

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i want a lot of things.

things that might make my life better.

things that might simply take up another spot on a shelf and never be used, though i will say

i have that. 

some things are bigger though. some are wants that drive us to our knees, blurring the line between want and need. 

sometimes

 it isn't about material things that we want.  

sometimes, wants are soul aches that strum a chord of longing that only we can hear...us, and those who long, too. 

we all want. 

my wants are vast. i have my Christmas lists and grocery lists and reading lists and all those things i want. 

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and then i have the list that only He and i share, the one where He must hold me as i read, as i shake with sobs in wanting. 

i'm learning to want Him first. 

to want His will when it hurts, to want His timing when it takes so long.

i'm learning to be still, and know, and wait for strength renewed and heartcries fulfilled. 

i'm learning these words:

yes, Lord. 

i will wait. 

i'm learning to ask for the right things. for His will. for His place. 

taking Him at value. that His promises are sure

and His grace is sufficient. 

of all my wants, He is my need. 

 Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

— St Francis of Assisi