passion seeker :: finder

{via pinterest}

but how do you find your passion?

no, really. how do you find your passion?

:: the sacred life of rain

it's a simple question. isn't it?

i'm an artist, a dreamer. i'm a passionate person with overflowing dreams and an electric surge under my skin. but how do i find my passion? 

i feel like my passion hit a wall this week. we had something in our grasp, something i didn't know i wanted quite this badly until it fell apart. it was a home, and it was beautiful and green, and i heard our future in those walls and planned moments in those rooms. 

but then, it went away. and then i wept until my body ached. i was on fire for this dream. 

and now, i feel swayed by this wind that has gushed through my body and whispered i wanted this so bad. and i wailed to my husband,

this is why i don't get excited

and i opened my mouth and dared to wrestle with the Lion like Jacob.

 why? 

i don't understand

why did you let us get this far?

and i sobbed for all the memories that could have been, and i broke for the passion that i would have possessed there. i stared at drab brown and white walls that i am not allowed to paint, and the too-much-stuff that crowds my corners with not even room for an easel, and i felt my passion compressing down into a cube that barely fit in this tiny place. 

i felt squished. i felt grey, like all the colour had been rung out of me. i felt limp and helpless and empty. no more passion, because i left it in the foyer of this perfect dream.

{via pinterest}

:: and so we wrestled, He and i, until the dawn.  

and then somehow, i dried my tears. my soul woke up and looked around this place, this little corner where he and i and soon our daughter have been placed. and i started to see dark bookshelves in a corner, and swooping dark purple fabric hung like bunting from corner to corner in the back room now-turned nursery. 

we went and bought new sheets for the bed. soft gold fabric to match the flowers on our midnight blue bedspread. and we put down the corners and made up the bed with the gold hidden inside until the blanket got pulled back after midnight. 

i slid my body between those sheets and let out a breath that was more of a prayer than a sob. because my passion isn't dead, it isn't gone, and it wasn't left wrapped around the perfect hardwood banister. 

it never left. i just forgot where it was. i didn't have to find it after all, because it was never lost. my focus had just become blurred. my passions aren't controlled by where i am, by what i have, by what i experience. 

they just are. 

they are in a two story dream, and they are here, in a four room canvas that i just haven't been bold enough to embrace. 

they don't need to be found.

they just are. 

the glory // the strangest way

it's Christmas Eve. i will be brief.

but the saga of this swiftly-coming night of holiness has not released its grip upon me.

because i turn on the radio and i hear songs of silent nights and silver bells and the celebration of God become Man.

 this mystery of how a humble virginal child can spread frightened fingers toward Heaven's gates and sing of a delighted soul, how a confused but tender-hearted carpenter can become the earthly father of the Son of the Most High God.

Why me, I'm just a simple man of trade?
Why Him, with all the rulers in the world?
Why here inside this stable filled with hay?
Why her, she's just an ordinary girl?
Now I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say
But this is such a strange way 

to save the world. 

:: strange way to save the world // 4-Him ::

and so

:: i dare you tonight ::

to find the time to hit your knees upon the floor and behold your King, come humble and gentle, come infant and precious. because this was for you. 

do you understand?

He came to die. 

this was His purpose, His highest calling. 

this precious infant curled in the arms of wondering parents while His Father gazed from Home with tears in sacred eyes as Word became flesh. 

behold, your King. 

now i'm not one to second-guess what angels have to say

but this is such a strange way 

to save the world. 

sacred seeker

{via pintrest}

i am on a search. 

i am learning this thing called sacredness.

to be honest, i have never understood what it means. not really. 

the dictionary: 

devoted or dedicated to some deity or religious purpose. 

consecrated. 

regarded with reverence.

i grew up in church. in a Christian family with the fear and knowledge of Christ Jesus in my heart and soul. 

i know this word

the concept of sacredness

backwards and forwards

but only on the outside.  

because i never dared to look inside.

and i am almost twenty-one. 

and only just now i have begun the seeking of this internal mystery within external familiarity. 

i think i have forgotten that my Jesus is a gentleman. 

never entering where He is not invited. this God-Man does not carry a battering ram, forcing down my walls. 

this Rabbi is gentle. easy yoked, lightly burdened. it is nail-scared Palm atop clenched little-girl fist, slowing working open fingers with caresses of love and patience. 

stones come down one by one. these petals cannot be torn open. they must be done with care and pain and agonizing slowness at times

but oh, His sacred beauty within.

and so i seek Him. i seek to taste that which is sacred.

fingers gently tangle with the King of Kings. the sovereign One refuses to let this weak child wander alone. 

we take this treasure map together. and walk this path toward eternity. 

slow steps

hand in Hand. 

from now until the beginning of May 2012, i have embarked upon a study: discerning the voice of God by priscilla shirer. i do this in company with a small group of women from our church, led by my dearest mother. 

this walk is new to me, this concept of truly being still and hearing Him speak is familiar but oh so foreign. 

each week, i will be pouring His voice here. 

expect Him here.

 {pray for me.}

Belong

If I find in myself / desires nothing in this world can satisfy / I can only conclude / that I, I was not made for here / If the flesh that I fight is at best /only light and momentary, / then of course I'll feel nude / when to where I'm destined I'm compared. ~C.S. Lewis Song (Brooke Fraser)

Every one of us wants to belong...

...wants to have a place to set down our baggage and hang up our hearts on the coat rack.

It's more than just finding a comfy apartment or a suitable house to accommodate our current needs.

It's about opening the door, stepping inside, and realizing that this is where we fit...that we have finally found the place we have been searching for our entire lives.

And for so many of us, this place will never be found here on earth.

Of course, there are those earthly places that call out to us and catch us by surprise. They are as close as anything on earth could possibly come to filling that overwhelming void.

These places have something so intrinsic about them...some small detail that captivates us, or a memory that brings us back to feelings of acceptance, perfection, warmth...

...but even these places of sheer delight -- as wonderful as they are -- cannot fully meet the needs of our hearts.

There is something missing...some sort of minute imperfection that reminds us once again of this moral coil upon which we dwell.

It's not until we stop looking down and raise our eyes heavenward that we discover what it is that we've been looking for all along.

We cannot just stand on this side of the wardrobe door, allowing ourselves to settle for this second-best reality. We need to reach out, close our eyes, and remind ourselves that something so much greater...something inexpressible...awaits us on the other side of the door.

One day, these shadows will fall away in a beam of the ultimate Light.

We will no longer have to search for where we belong...the aching feeling will disappear.

We will enter.

Further up and further in...

...with Him is where we belong.