love thyself

{via pinterest}

there's a lot of things we're forbidden to do in this life.

as Christians.
as women.
as breathers.

and it's confusing sometimes. the world whispers love thyself to the broken ones, and then the woman who just learned to love herself is covered in whispers and pointed fingers and lowered glances.

then it's broken all over again and the slices are deeper the second time around.

it is too far a step to say that my Jesus weeps when broken ones break again, especially in His house? He's the one that said come to Me, heavyladen ones. for My burden is light...


this makes me want to stomp the ground until my bruised feet bleed and sob for the unborn one dancing against my skin at night. because in barely a breath's time, i will pass a life through fire and water and blood into this world, and this small life will inhale a world that already is out to destroy.

and my little one will grow into this place of love to hate and love again turned to shredded paper scraps of hate that used to spell a love letter from Heaven to parched ground Earth.

and what they will teach my daughter is clucking tongues and judgemental glares if she doesn't quite fit the mold that my Jesus has already stomped into shards of blood-covered glass the day He spread two arms wide and wailed it is finished.

{via pinterest}

and my son will learn from the school of bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks that gentlemen are dead and gone, and men are fighters and not lovers and silently seated when they should be standing on the chairs and beating the pulse of love and respect.

this breaks me down into a pool for my unborn one, for his wife or her husband, and for the ones that came before and the ones that come after.

i want my child to have the words of precious Sarah as their heartbeat rhythm, that i will one day no longer teach but they will live.

we are thumping along with you, out here in the world [soon], reminding you that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. 

and you have a voice and a reason for being. you have a future and a hope. 

know who you are, small [one], and when you forget, we'll remind you.

:: in which i write a letter... // sarah styles bessey :: 

and so i will find my place on my knees tonight, with the music playing in the background and the candles flickering around the darkened midnight room. heartbeat thudding love yourself, little one. 

because i love you. 

and He does too. 

quirk

quirky people make the world.

especially those of us who pass daily down the pavement without even a whisper of those little wonders that make so odd...so perfectly unique?

do we suddenly awaken to realize that we bite our nails, that we always tap-tap the top of our soda cans, that we turn off every light in the house except the one above the bathroom mirror?

and those are just the little ones.

i think we all have habits that even we don't realize.

the quirks that make us unique, the ones that set us apart from everyone else in the world.

i'm the biggest advocate of quirk. maybe it's because i have so many of my own.

i'm all about embracing the individual. because we weren't made to fit. we were made to break.

we were created to stand out, to be set apart.

why blend? 

we weren't made to swim with the other fish.

we were made to leap with the whales, to sing with the dolphins.

 perhaps it is our calling to be the odd ones.

 we are the nose-wrinklers and the coffee-drinkers. the sun-singers and the music-wearers. the ones that dance to no music and write when inspiration seems to be a thousand miles away.

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” ~Marilyn Monroe 

so embrace those habits, those weird little things that make you sigh and smirk and giggle.

please don't let the world crush your song.

broken dreams make beautiful mosaics, after all.

catch the sun. sing His song.

be a quirk, little one. 

Unique

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die - whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness. ~Gilda Radner

It's a strange puzzle, this idea of uniqueness.

It's one of those things that is so innocently simple while still being overwhelmingly complicated.

In fact, I think that sometimes people strive so hard for a certain grasp of their own intrinsic details that they loose their originality all together.

The idea of uniqueness is the epitome of Lewis' White Stag, leaping its delicate way through the forests of Narnia...it can only found by mistake. When chased, it darts deeper and deeper into the woods, eventually leaving its pursuer even more lost than when this strange crusade first began.

It takes that moment of patience...of standing still in the silence and waiting...for the illusive creature of uniqueness to captured and taken in fully.

So what is uniqueness, really?

It is that person you see in the mirror each morning. Every last inch of you is unique, even if you have no desire to be thus set apart.

How boring of a world would this be if we all were alike...if there was no controversy over movies or music, and if we all saw the same things in an abstract painting. In fact, there would be no such things as artistic interpretation, theater, or painting, for there would be no need of them. We would simply become bored with these familiar sketches of ourselves and slip into a state of colorless uniformity.

There is something so sweet, so delightful about the accidental discovery of your own personal style...your tastes...your loves....those things that catch your eye and make you stop and look for just one moment more.

And even more so, there is a pure jubilation that comes upon the discovery that each one of us are created as unique, glorious beings...showered in the delight and love of our adoring Creator as He gazes upon our beautifully artistic hearts and differently-tuned minds.

We are His symphony, each one a different instrument...

...a symphony of uniqueness.

So release the search for your own unique placement in this world...

...just wait, and it will find you.