permission to rest {page two}

{photo by dramaticelegance}

sometimes i feel like i'm on the edge of this giant stone wall, a step of sorts, doing my very best to climb up and reach my long-ingrained goal. and there's the Christian crowd behind me, cheering to the point of a din behind me, that's it, you can do it, keep climbing. don't stop. 

what i need, though, is someone to come alongside me, grasp my hand and whisper, it's okay if you need to stop. it's okay to breathe. it's okay to stop. then comes the gasp of horror. they're telling you to stop? no. wrong. no.

stopping is not what we Christians do.

but maybe it's what i need to do. i feel like we so often focus our magnifying reading glasses on those words of Jesus teaching and walking and travelling and performing miracles and doing that we forget the resting. 

come to Me, and I will give you rest. 

i forget that i am Lucy. i am Peter, plodding diligently ahead, ignoring the signs and never resting, only ever traversing on. but He came to her at night, in the selah of the woods, and called her lioness. He promised her great renewal. 

as she rested. 

sometimes i wonder if we can even hear Him anymore through the din of our own good intentions. there's things expected of us if we bear that moniker of Christian,fingers intent on pointing out exactly which stones should be walked on, and which ones are too sacred to touch. 

we have made Jesus untouchable. and in turn, those of us who find the gasping bravery to reach out and grasp Him have become the whispered ones ourselves. we've wandered into the building wearing sunglasses and perish the thought we take them off and actually see. 

we have made following Jesus less important than following the rules. 

in telling my story, i can look back at where i've come from. i wish i could reach back and tug the sunglasses off my eyes and take the gloves off my fingers and whisper, Jesus doesn't mind fingerprints on His face. you can touch Him, dearheart. 

you can stop and breathe. it's okay. 

word // journey

{via pinterest}

i marvel at how far i've come.

nineteen months of words.

this process has changed me, more than i expected. because i'm not just writing words anymore, composing my own thoughts into sentences strung together with grammar and punctuation.

i've joined a community...could i even say a family? precious ones that inspired and treasure and contemplate and push me upward and onward. fellow artists and soul searchers, those who close their eyes to boundaries and open their hearts to the King.

i never expected this when i first began.

and now, the new year is a mere thirty-three days away. and more words will come.

but God and i are choosing one word in particular for this coming year.

a word for life

for light and for love

for the sake of soul and inhaling the sacred. 

one word for transformation.

before i started reading Mandy's blog, i have never even considered the idea of choosing a word for the year. but as i read more -- this journey of a woman who stepped from existent to artist -- i found my soul being pulled.

it was a tugging at first, perhaps an inkling of whimsy in the idea of choosing a word. because isn't that what it is, i smiled?

and then the tug became a pull. and the pull became a whispered command.

{via pinterest}

:: choose a word with Me :: 

because this was not whimsy. this was mystery. this thing of holding empty hands that so often grip at cluttered nonsense for

more 

more

more

lifting empty palms to Heaven for just one gift. this is radical.

this word is still unknown. my King and i have much to discuss, much to dwell upon, and much to grasp.

i'm expecting change. my journey will be here on this blog, and there in my soul.

i'm following His pull. this still small voice whispering my word to the silence.

my word.

oh, i cannot wait to hear.

sacred seeker

{via pintrest}

i am on a search. 

i am learning this thing called sacredness.

to be honest, i have never understood what it means. not really. 

the dictionary: 

devoted or dedicated to some deity or religious purpose. 

consecrated. 

regarded with reverence.

i grew up in church. in a Christian family with the fear and knowledge of Christ Jesus in my heart and soul. 

i know this word

the concept of sacredness

backwards and forwards

but only on the outside.  

because i never dared to look inside.

and i am almost twenty-one. 

and only just now i have begun the seeking of this internal mystery within external familiarity. 

i think i have forgotten that my Jesus is a gentleman. 

never entering where He is not invited. this God-Man does not carry a battering ram, forcing down my walls. 

this Rabbi is gentle. easy yoked, lightly burdened. it is nail-scared Palm atop clenched little-girl fist, slowing working open fingers with caresses of love and patience. 

stones come down one by one. these petals cannot be torn open. they must be done with care and pain and agonizing slowness at times

but oh, His sacred beauty within.

and so i seek Him. i seek to taste that which is sacred.

fingers gently tangle with the King of Kings. the sovereign One refuses to let this weak child wander alone. 

we take this treasure map together. and walk this path toward eternity. 

slow steps

hand in Hand. 

from now until the beginning of May 2012, i have embarked upon a study: discerning the voice of God by priscilla shirer. i do this in company with a small group of women from our church, led by my dearest mother. 

this walk is new to me, this concept of truly being still and hearing Him speak is familiar but oh so foreign. 

each week, i will be pouring His voice here. 

expect Him here.

 {pray for me.}

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