weary solace

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understanding why does not make the weariness easier.

i can tell you this from experience. as joyful as i am at this new knowledge, this growing beneath my skin that now occupies my every thought and action, i am still weary. and that is hard for me.

 i knew that it would come, this tiredness that seems to allow my energy to drip like water from every pore. but i wasn't ready for how powerfully this feeling would strike, and how i would feel when it did arrive.

i keep hearing His voice whisper rest and my frustrated self crying out please don't make me.

i started catching myself drifting toward the negatives, toward the nervous self-reliant what if's that can make a pregnant woman crazy without the hormones to help her out.

my soul waits in silence for God alone; 

from Him is my salvation. 

He only is my rock and my salvation, 

my stronghold; i shall not be greatly shaken.

it's not just my body that i need to rest. it's my mind, the one that crumbles sometimes when i hear a story of another life that isn't mine, but maybe could be...maybe. i can be assured a thousand times, but words can fall on deaf ears if i'm set strong to worry.

and so i find my place in the sacred corner. the place where i wrap shaking arms around body and womb and curl up there with woolen quilt and quietly repeated Words that come from the Holy Places. 

and i'm just inhaling. because there's so much worry in which i could loose myself, if i chose to be afraid. 

but this word is not afraid. it is brave. 

and rest takes brave. and motherhood takes double brave, even when the child is as small as a sweet pea and curled up safe in my body. 

even now, i seek solace and brave.

 in the quiet places of barefoot and holy, i find His peace. 

unforced rest :: whispers

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sometimes, it's good to be restless. it's good to pulse and feel and breathe.
but sometimes, you have to close your eyes.

i'm bad at resting.

even when all i should be doing is leaning back, eyes closed to recover, i don't want to stop. i want to keep tossing, keep turning, keep moving and doing until i'm thin as paper and torn into shreds.

and right now i'm sick. and i should be focused on recovering, tucking my chills under a quilt with a steaming mug of tea and a brand-new book. and t i'm snuggled under these blankets with tea and Hell's Kitchen and fluffy pillows, but oh, my mind is fluttering in a thousand directions.

why can't i rest?

so close your eyes

you can close your eyes.

:: it's alright :: 

how many times does He say be still? 

it's important to Him that i rest, that i be still and know. and yet, it's not important to me. is that not such a horrible slap in His face? what matters so much to Him means nothing to me? 

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it makes me sick to realize how foolish i can be when my eyes go on me and dart to the lists instead of closing to serenity for His whispers of 

courage dearheart

breathe deeply, daughter.

because this Lion's song is what i should be singing, instead of this thudding drum of 

go now 

go now 

go now 

go now. 

it's this restless mind, this broken spirit that aches to overcompensate. 

i strive too hard to fix my own mistakes instead of sitting in His hand and listening to the whispers that linger past the storm, the wind, the fire. 

i must rest

in these unforced rhythms 

of grace. 

illusive

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i feel illusive.
like wind on pavement or dust in darkness.

it's there, and i know it's there. it's fact.
but i feel like it's invisible, like secrets

it's my word for 2012.

down to four days and still only silence. i've sat with Bible open and candles lit and tea cup steaming with fragrance, and i've listened. but this lack of noise, this time of peace, has only led to my heart being filled and peace on white feathers roosting in my soul.

but it's been precious.

because want can sometimes translate to need in that language that only souls speak.  it's one of those mystery, known but unknown. the way Light shines the brightest when there is none and the way words that don't leave the lips can sometimes be the most beautiful.

you are not bound to loss and silence.
for you are not bound to the circles of this world.
all things must pass away,
all life is doomed to fade…
 :: and yet you are not without hope ::

// breath of life :: howard shore //

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so i'm still wordless. and i'm not rushing it anymore. i'm going to sit and breathe in the tea steam. i'm going to inhale this invisible Glory called grace and dance in the swirl of dustmotes in a sunbeam.

because it will come, just as He promised me it would in that night when He whispered

we will choose, you and I, dearheart. 

i'm rooted in that hill where death was trampled and the Word prevailed and veils tore from sacred top to bottom.

it's a beautiful sort of turbulance, the kind found when storms are settling and everyone feels it deep inside. the wind is hard, but slowing. the rain is tossing, but sweet.

and so i seek. and i wait. because when the word comes, and i know it will, it will be that sweet perfume after a cleansing rain.

it will be worth the wait.

warring stillness

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the Lord will fight for you. you need only be still. 

~exodus 14:14

i found my calm this morning.

for a while, i thought i had left it amid hot glue guns and satin ribbons and sand-covered programs, all tumbled together on the other side of the United States. 

the chaos of this entire past week was a breathtaking, beautiful rush akin only to the crash of a salty ocean wave. it swept me under in a glorious swell.

but then i found myself tossed ashore and breathless again. 

this mantra of Love that i have chanted for a week is pounding into my head like a oceanic roar, perhaps to the point of being numbing.

if i'm not careful, i could lose myself in this battle. i feel the hilt of my own sword of self digging into my palms. this fight i'm carrying alone...the one i forbid those i love to undertake with me. 

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i can do this myself. 

i can be strong. 

i promise i can. 

but then i awoke this morning. a strange feeling mixed with the tension that i have and yet still carry atop my shoulders.

i'm still tense. i'm still overwhelmed. but i have found a scrap of calm amid this noise. 

perhaps it is the unstopping of my own ears...letting the chaos trickle out and the silence replace the gaps. 

and so now i will sit and let my Lord fight. my sword is down and my fingers, ringing with battle clash, are shaking with the rest that comes after the storm. 

and i will be still now.

i will drop my trembling fingers to brush against my denim-clad legs and breathe slowly again. 

inhale. 

exhale. 

repeat to survive. 

now let go and fall

into His stillness.  

{linking this imperfection with emily today}