seeker // wrestler

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i am tired of being the condemned seeker.

when did it become a broken thing to be the one who searches? when questions are met with rolling eyes and huffing sighs.

you should know this already.

i am weary of tears being scorned. 

i am weary of wrestlers being watched with indignation. 

church, where have you gone?

broken daughter, where do you stand now?

judging souls, are you so flawless that scorn is something you are free to cast about like rocks into a rippling lake?

if we knew, we would not need an Answer. 

if we lived in a perpetual place of strength, would we still need a Rock? 

Jacob's wrestling gave birth to Israel. the fingers of the Son on his hip gave him lifelong pain and weakness.

for greatness to come, weakness must be accepted. 

i'm overwhelmed at this place in which we stand. 

we are the King's chosen. we did not walk up to this throne and demand our birthright. 

we came on hands and knees, torn and broken. dirty and abandoned by this world that never let us call it home. 

to love is to be vulnerable

-c.s. lewis 

not one of us was born here. we were all swaddled in grey and black and brown of sin and death and darkness. 

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but He gave us His garments of Light. but we had to come first. we had to crawl to His feet and reach out shaking fingers to brush against His hem.

be free, love. 

it's okay to let shaking knees and legs give way. it's okay to seek, to ponder, and to muse over Him. it's okay to not know it all.

be a seeker. 

be a muser. 

be a wrestler. 

let go 

and be. 

Real

I have OWD. Obsessive-writer disorder. It's a fact.

I will spend hours staring at the same blank page, racking my brain for something to write. And it can't be just any old nonsensical idea. It has to be perfect. Flowing. Grammatically correct. Poetic, while still being real. Tonight alone, I have started and erased about ten different blog posts.

Why?

...so many reasons.

I have people that read my blog that don't even know me. All they have are these words, sporadically typed up and published by a nineteen year old wanna-be writer who's nuts about Jesus Christ, cares too much, loves until she's got nothing left, and might just be a little be insane.

And honestly, I was at the point tonight when I didn't even know if I was gonna even write anything worth publishing. Again.

But then, I got to thinking.

There's about five people in my life who know me on an extremely intimate and personal level. They've seen the beauty, the ugliness, the tears, the heartbreak: my husband, my parents, my sister, and my two best friends. And every single one of them has told me at one point or another that I mean the world to them...just they way I am.

Last night, my husband kissed me in the grocery store parking lot for no reason whatsoever. He just grabbed me, put his arms around me, and kissed me. We've been kissing one another for almost two years; the kiss itself wasn't uncommon. But there was something about that innocent kiss that made my eyes well up. Jon has endured a lot in the 2 1/2 years that we've been together, and even more since in our 9 months of marriage. And even after the fights, the pink socks, the late dinners, and the lack of blankets, he still loves me enough to sweep me off my feet and remind me of just how much he loves me.

So now, I've decided. No more over-scrutinizing. No more self-degradation.

I'm done.

I'm going to be real. I'm going to shoot straight. I'm not going to worry about being the world's best blogger, or the most perfect writer. I'm not going to hide any more.

I'm tossing my mask on the rubbish heap.

I'm going to be me.

Girl, 19. In love with and sold out for Jesus Christ.

Madly in love with the man who stole my heart and made me his bride.

Artistic, emotional.

Loving hard, caring deeply, heart on my sleeve.

Blessed with two of the most amazing parents and sweet-hearted sister in this world.

Has two incredible best friends, and a whole host of remarkable friends who make my world shine.

Slightly insane, but that's okay.

Because that's me.