inked :: redeux

{songbird for joy, flower for feminine, branch for strength}

two days before 2012, i crossed an item off my bucket list with ink of permanence on my skin.

four days ago, i did it again.

and now my shoulder bears the reminder of the best thing i have ever done. this is a memorial of her birth in the most perfect of ways. pain and blood that results in beauty, and this is what birth is and this is what i will bear on my skin for all eternity.

but it's more than that.

and these stones shall stand as a memorial...

for when your children ask

what does this mean?  

:: joshua 4

one day she will touch the mark on my shoulder, and the one on my wrist, and the ones that i have yet to get but will soon bear. and she will ask, what does this mean?

and i will tell her our story. i will tell her how i wrestled with God the day she was born, and how i was humbled, and how He was victorious. and how she was pulled from me like Moses from the water and laid in my arms. and she is my ultimate memorial to His grace. 

{via pinterest}

and that i am marked on my shoulder, and that i am marked from hip to hip, because i love her. 

and then i will point to the cross and tell her of the One who gave her to me. 

i will tell her that He is marked, too, because He loved her, too. because He loved her most. and that His Father has her name engraved on His heart, and that He wrote love in blood.

some people glace at my skin and wrinkle their noses. 

that's permanent, you know.

 even when you're old. 

and i smile. because i never want to forget, and i never want them to disappear. i'm proud of them, my story. my tattoos are my stones in the water, stacked high to remind the children of God from where they have come and where they are going instead.  

and i want to remember always what my Lord has done. 

and so i am inked. 

{linking imperfect with emily today. won't you join us there?}

prisoner of hope :: always

{via pinterest}

i am hope's prisoner. 

i am Light's conquest. 

and i seek no freedom. 

sometimes i wonder how people muddle through this world without the glimmer of hope behind their eyes. i see it, you know...that look that slips across their face when i meet their eyes with a smile. 

that look of want. of plead. of empty. 

and then we pass and they are gone. but they stay with me even after i've passed and am home under covers. because that look of hopelessness coats my soul with the grief that only loss can bring.

i want to go back and touch their shoulder and draw them back to the place i call Home and the One i call Father. 

but as for me, i will 

:: always :: 

have hope

for You have been my hope.

i cling to Him tightly in those moments when the world rocks and i have nothing but the pounding cries of uncertainty. what do they do, when the waves slam them against the rocks until their grasp loosens and their dreams flow from their eyes like water?

{via pinterest}

in my nights of darkened grief when all i can do is weep until my pillow floats and my hair is moist with salted sorrow, i know that my fingers can upward reach and grasp those of the One who holds me close.

this tangled kiss of hope that binds me against His chest. 

hope stays perched on the branches of my soul, singing like the uncaged bird, this phoenix of hope rising from the ashes of Death, killed and conquered and fingers sliced from off my shoulders. 

in the dark, i have hope. 

i'm running to Your arms

the riches of Your love

will always be 

:: enough ::


i hope you will forgive me, but again, with the holiday rush, i am simply going to reveal the winners here instead of in a full post. 
item no. 1: Ashley
item no. 2: Jennoelle
item no. 3: Ashlyn Nicole
item no. 4: Lucia
just shoot me an email, beautiful ladies.

final arrival

she's next to me, curled up with a phone against her ear. her man is on the other end. ten hours away for one more night, and then he's here.

the groom and his attendants arrive tomorrow night. last night with just her and i before the men descend and the madness that leads to this marriage begins.

this is the night of coconut lotion and pampering.

of The King's Speech and one liter of Dr. Pepper each.

of so much aching laughter...but then again, that's been every night.

a night of a few shed tears and memories flooding as i run my fingers through her auburn hair, giggling as the smell of the hair dye overwhelms us both.

this is best friends on their last night alone together. 

she just tossed me a sheet of directions with six different languages on it, telling me just how to fix her lowlights. last night of preparations. because Zach is coming.

the groom is coming for his bride tomorrow.

the anticipation. the beautification. the preparations that abound and pile up around us.

it's a reminder of the Groom. waiting, planning. it is sacrilegious to picture Him shifting from foot to foot with excitement, looking at His Father?

is it time? can i go and bring her home now? 

{via pinterest}

and His bride...what is she doing?

is she preparing? is she ready, waiting?

or is she still so dirty? does she still reek of world and flesh and old self?

come now, church.

our Groom awaits.

be ready. 

gifts {1-7}

I have learned to cease my despising of Mondays.

Yes, for the majority of the world (myself included), Mondays are the bane of our existence.

Back to work. Back to school. Back to the daily grind of all things "weekday"...the departure from the simple restfulness that is the weekend.

Monday's seem to capture all the unspoken troubles of weekends past, and transform them into some doubly horrific and unbearably stressful.

I understand this. I have lived through countless Mondays in my 20 years, and I know I have many more to come. In fact, I struggle with allowing myself to sink into depression at the state of the week, becoming overwhelmed with all I have faced, and that which I have yet to endure in the days ahead.

But I am changing my focus...redirecting my viewpoint from my weary feet and upwards toward the Cross.

So for me, and for this blog, Mondays will now be our time to remember....to enjoy...to take in the gifts that the King has brought upon us.

1,000 of them, to be exact. Perhaps only two or three, perhaps more than a dozen at a time. Each Monday, I will count my blessings...to one thousand and perhaps even beyond.

1. The lovely roll of thunder to which I awoke
2. The sweet familiar smell of my pillow beneath my head
3. Sweet puppy kisses on my toes, and golden eyes looking up at me with love as I write
4. The discovery of IZZE at a local convinience store, almost 60 miles closer than I thought
5. A loving text from someone I hold dear, reminding me once again that I am not alone, that I am not fighting this uphill battle alone
6. The stunning melody of instrumental piano on a friend's blog, which currently fills my ears as I compose this post. 
7. Awakening to read Isaiah 43:2-3, and inhaling the promise of my Savior's enduring love as thought it was the most perfect and delicate of perfumes. 

Mondays are full of all things beautiful, just as are the other days of the week. In fact, Monday is the ribbon on the package that is a new week. 

When the first rays of sun dawn on a Monday, it is the first tug of that parcel binding. When the thunder rolls, it is God tearing open the paper, revealing a new beginning, without a single mistake upon the page. 

This idea was inspired by the beautiful and delightfully outspoken Sarah and her lovely corner of the internet: Emerging Mummy...and what a thought it was. To reach beyond the veil and touch the face of God...to receive His love instead of casting down makeshift curses. 

And that is where I shall begin. Pen in hand, my Beloved King at my side, and new mercies as the dawn. 

I encourage each of you to do the same. There is no button for this challenge...no specific tag of any kind. But the prize? The prize is greater than any giveaway I could ever concoct. 

The prize is joy. Peace. Delight. Blessing. 

The chance to take a long, slow breath...if only for just this one moment. 

Happy Monday, my loves. 

This day is not a curse...

...it is a new beginning...

...the ultimate blessing. 

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him.” ~Lamentations 2:22-24

Wave

In the quiet, in the stillness / I know that You are God / In the secret of Your presence / I know there I am restored. / When You call I won't refuse / Each new day again I'll choose...There is no one else for me / None but Jesus / Crucified to set me free / Now I live to bring Him praise...~Brooke Fraser, None But Jesus


I am a chaotic human being.


I stress myself out more than I would like to admit. 


I'm very bad at remaining calm when it comes to myself. When my friends are struggling, I am a steady rock for them, keeping my head to ensure that they remain calm and level as their world shakes around them. 


But when it comes to myself?


I'm a hurricane. 


And eventually, I entirely collapse under the weight of my own confusion, heartache, and overflowing coffers of stress. 


I need to stop.


I need to remind myself that it's not a sin to breathe...


...that the entire universe won't crumble to the floor if I don't take a few minutes for myself...


...that there's Someone bigger than me who runs the universe. 


I need to give Him back the wheel, because I'm starting to skid off the road just a little bit...and this lack of my own control is starting to scare me more than I'm willing to admit. 


I need to let Him take over. 


I need to remind myself who my Father is...who my King is...who my Savior is.


I need to let Him use His strength to carry the world...


...and to carry me.


So I'm sitting on the lawn, waving goodbye to my worries as they take off toward the sunset with the birds.


It's on Him now. 


He's never let me down so far. 


And I don't think He's going to start now. 


In the chaos, in confusion / I know You're sovereign still / In the moment of my weakness / You give me grace to do Your will / So when You call I won't delay / This my song through all my days...~Brooke Fraser, None But Jesus

Gentleman

A gentleman has his eyes on all those present; he is tender toward the bashful, gentle toward the distant, and merciful toward the absent. ~Lawrence G. Lovasik

Where have all the gentlemen gone?

What island have they been exiled to...and can someone send me the coordinates so that I might go and bring them home again?

Someone told them that they were no longer needed in this world...that their age had come and gone.

Someone told them that women were strong and independent -- that we didn't need men to care of us anymore...

...that we could open our own doors, and that a man coming to our defense was nothing more than offensive and sexist.

Someone said that chivalry was dead.

Well, let me tell you this.

They were wrong.

Whoever told Mr. Darcy to dismount his horse...whoever told Prince Charming to toss his crown in the mud...whoever told Orlando to burn his sonnets?

So please, gentlemen, come back to us.

Because there are still ladies in the world...

And we miss you.

We love when you open the door for us, or help us when we drop things, and we will thank you.

We love when you hold out your hand to help us up off the ground after a moment where our grace has fled, and we have stumbled over our own feet.

We love when you treat us with respect instead of just a pair of breasts...just as something to stare at and undress in your mind.

We love when you hug us, tell us we look beautiful, and look us in the eyes when you talk to us.

We love being treated as beloved sisters instead of sex objects and toys to show off.

So, please, come back.

And to those of you who haven't changed -- to those men who love me, respect me, and treat me as precious: I love you, and I am HONORED to call you my friends and brothers.

You are seen.

You are thanked.

And you are loved.

A man may learn from his Bible to be a more thorough gentleman than if he had been brought up in all the drawing-rooms in London. ~Charles Kingsley

תקומה (Resurrection)

"Now after the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to look at the grave. And behold, a severe earthquake had occurred, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled away the stone and sat upon it." ~Matthew 28:1-2

I can only imagine what it was like to wake up on that morning.

The sorrow would have still be so incredibly fresh. The pain would have remained a thudding, almost crushing ache.

...if only they knew.

Because the power was brewing...the war was coming to its glorious conclusion...

...to the point that the world could not contain it for another minute longer.

The ground shook.

The guards collapsed.

The stone was rolled away.

The tomb sat cold. Hollow. EMPTY.

And the angel found his seat upon the overturned door, waiting for those who needed to hear his earth-shattered message.

"Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here...for He is risen, just as He said He would..."

The disbelief would have been incredible, almost impossible for their still-broken hearts to fathom...before it all turned to a powerful, measureless joy.

This morning, I felt powerful, heart-gripping joy.

I cried tears of passionate gratitude and indescribable adoration.

The tomb is empty.

Death has been defeated.

Hell has been overturned.

Death COULD NOT handle Him. The grave COULD NOT hold Him.

My King is risen!

"...she [the White Witch] would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward." ~C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Timeline

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. ~Eleanor Roosevelt

It is now 2011.

Wow.

For me, this is almost impossible to believe. I feel as if I blinked and have passed from January to January without hardly a second thought.

Did last year leave me behind?

To be honest, however, 2010 was a year of a lot of changes for me...many of which were beyond fantastic.

I reconnected with an amazing old friend after almost two years of silence, and found myself in a brand-new friendship that picked up as if things had never left off and has radically changed my life.

God answered my prayer for a female best friend, and I have never been more blessed to have her in my life as a sister and warrior on this road together.

I celebrated a landmark -- one year of marriage to my incredible husband, which still continues to blow my mind and delight my soul.

I met amazing people who have loved me and changed me for the better.

I started this blog, which has been a dream of mine, and was a resolution for 2010 that I actually saw through to fruition.

The blessings that have been heaped upon me still blow my mind and draw me to my knees time and time again.

However, this year has also been one of the hardest of my life. I have cried more than I ever thought possible. I lost precious friends for one reason or another -- some because of serious issues, and others over trivialities that I wish I could take back. My heart has broken almost to the point of bleeding -- both for myself and for those I love.

I have made so many mistakes...I look back at certain points over the past year and I weep with the utter shame of it all. In all honesty, there were so many points when I just wanted to give up...to give in to my own insecurities and lack of strength and simply let the world slip through my fingers.

But it takes the bad with the good to give me a reason to step forward.

If this past year had been nothing but good things -- perfect blue skies without a single thunderstorm, how then would I have grown?

It takes fire to refine the dross away from silver; it takes lightning and thunder for crops to grow.

The hands of the clock keep ticking by.

Soon enough, 2012 will be upon us. But that is the future.

2009 is gone.

2010 is gone.

The past is over and buried under the blood of the One who looked from moment to moment and decided that I was worth His ultimate sacrifice.

And so, this year, I begin with only one resolution.

To grow.

To climb further up and further in.

To find my footing in Jesus Christ instead of myself...to allow myself to reach out and take His nail-scarred hand...

...to rise and rise again.

So here's to love and loss, to tears and joys, to passions and disappointments.

To growth and to journeys.

To becoming more like Him.

Here's to fresh starts and new beginnings.

Here's to 2011.

Extravagant

Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, shepherds and wise men falling to their knees in adoration of the sweet baby, the incarnation of perfect love. ~Lucinda Franks

I am going to be extremely honest right here.

I love Christmas.

I'm like a little kid when it comes to this time of year. I am incredibly sentimental when it comes to Christmas.

I hate snow, but I want a white Christmas. I have this quirk about sleeping under the Christmas tree, looking up at the lights and ornaments, all of which have some sort of sentimental significance. Christmas gifts are more than boxes wrapped up in colorful paper and stuck underneath a bit of green shrubbery; each gift has some sort of personal direction toward the receiver that will really make them smile.

I even sit for hours with no lights on at night, just the Christmas lights and a few candles, just listening to my favorite Christmas songs and soaking in the magic that December seems to fuse my soul with in waves of music and pine-scented candles.

But there comes a moment in my heart -- generally in the last days before the big day arrives -- that the deep reminder of what this entire season is about grips my heart.

It's more than just the saga of a pregnant woman and her husband riding a donkey over the Judean countryside...more than shepherds and Wise Men gathering in a small stable...more than angels singing choruses and brightening the darkness with their heavenly light.

It's the reality that the King of the Universe -- the One that holds the stars in place and sends the thunderclouds to do His bidding -- stepped down from His throne.

He laid down His might, His power, and His glory...and stepped from Life to life.

From streets of gold and the lauding of angels to the inexperienced arms of a teenage Israelite girl and her rugged new husband...knowing EXACTLY what His purpose was.

He was born to die. For me.

So tonight, as I sit on my couch, looking out the frost-covered windows at the snow-covered street below, I cast my eyes toward the sky. And as a lone tear trickles down my cheek, I whisper a prayer of utmost and humble gratitude to the One who gave Himself to the world...

...Jesus, Your love is extravagant. More than I deserve.

Please, never let me forget.

You gave the ultimate gift that winter night.

You gave us Your life. Your love. Your blood. Your forgiveness.

Merry Christmas.

And the first time / That You opened Your eyes did You realize that You would be my Savior / And the first breath that left Your lips / Did You know that it would change this world forever...And I, I celebrate the day / That You were born to die / So I could one day pray for You to save my life. ~I Celebrate The Day, Relient K

Still

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~Anaïs Nin

Life is complicated.

There are so many things that play into every day life, even those things that we primarily take for granted.

...even when we don't notice, things are complex.

It takes more than just the passing of time -- the turning of moments into years -- for someone to mature.

It takes the rain. The heat. The storms. The pressure. The pruning. The pain.

These things are not always realities that are easy for us to grasp. We want things to fall into place without any work or discomfort. We just want everything to be perfect right away.

And so we push away the pain. We shy away from anything that could possibly be the slightest bit uncomfortable...that might be hard.

We shut down the growth.

We settle into a pool of stagnant water...unmoving and unchanging. It may seem still and serene for the moment, but it eventually grows foul and rank, filled with impurities that cannot be swept away.

The foulness is trapped...we are imprisoned by our own good intentions.

...except Him.

...we hit rock bottom.

Sometimes, even the little things like breathing are almost too much to handle.

So many times, it feels like the entire ground is just shaking...nothing is standing still...

Sometimes, all you can do is reach up and take His hand, trusting Him to not let go.

I promise you -- He never lets go.

The world is unsteady sometimes.

He never moves.

When my world is shaking, Heaven stands. When my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands. ~Your Hands, JJ Heller

Journey

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. ~Isaiah 41:10

Recently, I spent the day with my family in a small, picturesque town. We spent the day wandering up and down the quaint shop-lined sidewalks, popping into those stores that caught our eyes and spending more money than we should have.

Also, we walked. A lot. By the time 2:00pm rolled around, my feet (clad, of course, in my extremely worn out sandals that make those around me shake their heads) had reached their limit.

As I sat on a wrought-iron parkbench placed conveniently on a street corner, I took advantage of my resting place and began to consider the people that were passing along the sidewalk on their own individual journeys.

My brain and my heart began to work together to invent a strange sort of inspiration for my ever-active mind to ponder.

I started to contemplate my own heart's journey. Where had I been? Where was I going? And what sort of steps would I need to take to get to my final destination -- wherever that might be, in the long run?

I allowed myself to drift back in time -- back to those early teen years that, at times, I would just as soon forget.

I remembered my Freshman year of High School, and the dark place of despair and isolation in which my heart had chosen to lodge.

I remembered the successive years -- the journey that God and I had taken together. I remember those nights that I would stand beneath the midnight sky: no canopy save the celestial lights that passed their silent way above my head, and no companion except the One who heard the silent wailing of my broken heart.

The more I thought above these times in my life, and the years that followed, the more I realized that my travels had not been in vain. In fact, no matter how much I wished to forget those times and pretend that they had never been part of my life's story, it would be nothing if not foolish.

For, no matter how painful and devastating those moments had been, they had been vital measures in the complicated and continuous score that compiles the symphony of my life. They were the path, laid before my tired feet.

My journey is not over. I have no doubt that the road ahead of me is filled with potholes, tripwires, and roaring lions. I know that the Valley of the Shadow of Death lies before and behind me.

However, I also know that I have a Guide and a King who is greater and bigger than any of those obstacles that may lie in my path. My feet are covered in the shoes of His peace, and I have been given a map straight from His heart.

...my way is secure.

...my destination is sure.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. ~Isaiah 43:2-3

Tick/Tock

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace."

~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Time is a strange master.

It is one of things that we as mere mortals cannot fully understand or comprehend.

There is a time for everything.

This reality has come harshly into the light for me in recent days. A week ago today, I found myself weeping as though my heart would shatter.

I had reached a point where one of the few solid things in my life had just been shaken to the core; I was falling like Alice down a strange sort of rabbit hole, and I had no idea when or where I would land.

I was, quite literally, lost.

My emotions were scattered across the map.

I was scared to death. My heart held a momentary burst of anger, which then melted into a sheer, rich sorrow.

And then loneliness.

And then...

...a strange, echoing silence.

It took me all of 24 hours to reach a strange new sort of reality.

This new existence -- however brief or momentary in the long run -- wasn't wrong. In fact, it was a long time in coming.

I'm not saying that I was suddenly okay with this sudden separation...the time had just arrived for a "severing," of sorts -- for such a resounding shaking of my so-called security in this particular aspect of my life that would leave me NO OTHER CHOICE but to run to my God.

And I did.

I promise, I do have a point to these seemingly random and disconnected ramblings.

There is a time for everything.

Sometimes, it takes a sharp severing -- an uprooting of a deep-set root -- for the beauty to have room to grow.

Sometimes, we need to just let go.

There is a time for everything. The hands of the clock are carefully moved by the unseen Hand of an Almighty God.

Time is not strange or alarming to God; it's an essential ingredient, a necessary fuel to His refining fire that burns away the impurities and leaves us grasping for Him alone.

The times, situations, and moments of our lives are not out of control.

They are not just whisperings of ideas cast about by the Fates or some unseen collection of deities with nothing better to do than meddle with the lives of mankind.

Our times are secure.

Because He is faithful...

..and He has a time for everything.

"You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in You." ~Isaiah 26:3