standing life

what makes a mover?

a ground-shaker?

what does it take for transformation?

it takes doing.

it doesn't take sitting back and watching others innovate. others change. others make a difference.

it takes standing. 

what difference does one person make in the course of the world?

a lot. 

because this entire world is made up of individuals. different dreams, wishes unlike any other. touch a face, and you will feel a dream. because we all have them, whether we're willing to acknowledge them or not.

what can these broken people do?

we can hold out dented fingers and say

do my cracks match yours?

innovation is more than electronics. more than inventions. more than progress.

it's the hearts behind.

every pulse that beats is a rhythm by which to dance. a path by which to skip.

{via pinterest}

don't sit in the dirt, waiting for the King to return. don't dig up your unused talent and then hold it up in empty fingers saying,

for You.


take your little and make much. take His gifts.

live radically.

don't just exist.

but live. 

‎"Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do." ~Steve Jobs. 

1955-2011

woman

{via pinterest}

{note: this post was inspired by this post from the beautiful Sarah at Emerging Mummy. it lit the candle under me. i can't be silent now.}


we are more

these Christian daughters of this world, these women and girls and widows and wives and mothers and sisters and singles and barren and overflowing with love regardless of this cobblestone we stand upon.

we are more. 

we are more than these invented definitions of femininity. we are more than kitchens and apron strings. we are more than decorators and mothers and wives.

we may be these things. but we are more. we are not silent. we are not insignificant.

we crave like you.

we crave voice. we crave depth. we crave more than modesty lectures and reminders to be the weaker ones. we need more than cooking classes and socials.

we do not have to have one extreme or the other.

either sex symbol or wallflower.

this must not be. 

we need more than our silent allotments of stand and sit and worship and listen and nothing more than this.

we crave Him. 

we ache to go deeper.

we want to search His will and see His heart and wrestle with Him in hand-to-hand until we find ourselves undone and exposed before Him.

He chose us too. 

and not only the housewives or the silent servants.


every woman has a calling.

and He chose us ALL. 

{via pinterest}

Martha, Martha. 

follow your sister, Mary. for she {this sitting enraptured seeker} has chosen what is right. 

he took those broken women. those defiled women.

those prostitutes at which the world painted whore. those vagabonds with broken homes and no husbands. those eager follows who sat and listened and yearned for Him. those water-bearers and thirsty souls.

every walk. every phase. every calling.

those hem-grabbers. those cross-clingers. those outcasts. those reachers. those tender open hearts who wanted Him and Him alone.

we are women. we are vessels, full of Him and aching to overflow.

we are brave and strong and beautiful and beloved.

we are more.

we are voice. love. power. 

His. 

Let us RISE to the questions of our time. Let us SPEAK to the injustices in our world. Let us MOVE the mountains of fear and intimidation. Let us SHOUT down the walls that separate and divide. Let us FILL the earth with the fragrance of Love.

Let us be women who Love. 

{quote from here -- more words to be read}


{linking with michelle, laura, and jen today}

Outside/Inside

Strength is my weakness.

There is something so imperative, so crucial about strength to me.

I have to be the strong one.

I have to endure things for others that they themselves cannot seem to handle at that moment.

In that split second when your world is falling apart, when your heart is breaking, when you're at the very end of your rope, I have to be there.

I have to be strong for you.

If I love you, I carry stuff for you. It's the way I've always been, and I can't see myself changing any time soon.

But. I gotta be honest.

I'm a coward.

Behind this mask of strength and endurance, I'm shaking like a frightened puppy during a thunderstorm.

On the outside, I'm calm and put-together, focused entirely on making sure that you are alright and that you know that you have someone to lean on during this -- the darkest moment of your life.

But inside, I'm screaming. My mind is going a hundred miles a minute, throwing things together and tossing them out in a split second. Nothing makes sense. I have to keep telling myself...

...over and over and over again...

breathe. breathe. breathe.

Rain pelts my face, blinding me, mixing with my tears of sorrow, frustration, and guilt. The laughter of my own cowardice is shrieking in my ears.

"Afraid. You're afraid. Coward."

I have to allow myself to shut my eyes, wrap my arms around you, and lock out my fears.

Inside, I'm on my knees, eyes closed, hands raised as high as they can go.

I'm screaming at the top of my lungs to the thundering skies...

"TAKE THIS, JESUS! I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH!!! I NEED YOU!"

And then, He comes for me.

In my mind, Jesus has a roll of duct tape and a warm blanket.

The duct tape is for Satan's mouth, to keep the lies away.

The blanket is for my heart.

And for yours.