stepping into silence

{photo of me by photography by Kjelse}

{over the next several weeks, maybe even months, i will be writing here and there from elora's thirty days of prompts. this is something that i have never done before, something raw and fresh and gorgeous and potentially painful. so please, be gentle with me. you can find all posts i have written from these prompts here}

:: what are you waiting for?

for Story 101, we are entering our week of silence. this is our time to step back from the internet, our time to breathe, our time to embrace our writer souls. honestly, with the amount of time i spend on the internet every day, this prospect is slightly terrifying. 

:: but maybe that's what i was waiting for.

see, as a stay-at-home mom, the internet has been my retreat. it's the only "getaway" i have from my life as momma. but maybe it's holding me back. maybe i'm waiting for something that isn't going to happen. maybe i'm waiting for my life to go back to the way it used to be // before my precious little wailing warrioress came into our lives. 

i'm never going to have that life again.
and that's okay.

because Marian is my new life. this is normal. this is my radiant normal beautiful new life. this is my gift. this is my now.

so maybe this week of silence, this time of resting away from the internet {in part}will be my first step toward embracing my new place. i know i need to stop fighting what is. i need to stop waiting for the new house to find my space. i need to stop waiting for this illusive magic moment before i accept the pen that the Lion is pressing into my trembling fingers.

:: i can start writing that chapter now.

in some respects, i'm still bristling at this concept of internet silence, even if only in part. it was always a punishment, a stripping away of something that connected me to a world that always seemed so far away.

{photo of me by photography by Kjelse}

but i am seeking ways to heal my eyes from that past view. i am hoping, daring to reach up for that scarlet rope hanging in the window. it feels so dangerous to hope. i am still recovering from the loss and confusion and heartbreak that this year has already brought me.

but there has been such joy there too. and that is worth the hoping and the risking and oh, the releasing.

there will hopefully be a lot of returning to the journal in this week of selah. a lot of art, a lot of postcards made and sent. a lot of breathing.

oh dearhearts, won't you gather around me here?

pray for the Song of the Lion to permeate my soul? pray for strength and deep, deep grace? pray for Life, for Light, for Glory. 

pray for rest. 
pray for selah. 
pray for silence. 

{don't forget about the self-care giveaway taking place here. i would love to bless you with some tender gifts, precious ones.}

:: joy dance

{via pinterest}

the pursuit of joy is a dance, a thing of glory.

it's feet placed squarely against smooth cool wood, that slight intake of breath right before the music starts, a matched exhale with that very first note.

happiness can be found easier, under the stones that cover the bed of a stream or right between the complimenting syllables that trip so sweetly from the lips of an admired one. 

but joy. ohh, joy is the elusive White Stag of the Great Lion's master plan that leads you in a mighty chase to place you direct in the center of His roaring triumph.

see, I am doing a new thing, a mighty thing.
joy, joy, joy!

it's a majestic thing to be in the center of this whirlwind of joy. because to get to this center, this pearl in the midst, there comes that grain of sand tucked in the sensitive corners of the soul.

the rubbing and the aching brings the sorrow.
and then comes the dawning in a rumble of Lion's song and dew-drenched blades of grass.

joy is something sought after, something requested and then begged for, a thing that draws the greatest and the lowest to knocking on the door with flattened palms and an urgency incomparable. joy is not the feeling. it is the being. it is not the treasure, it is the hunt.

you would not have called for Him had He not been calling for you. 
{paraphrased from C.S. Lewis}

and so joy is a dance, a leap and a skip that can be done alone but is better with two, with clasped hands and fingers raised and head thrown back.

{linking today with beautiful emily and the imperfect prose community}