drumbeat :: magnify

{via pinterest}

a precious breather occurred this weekend. i was going to apologize for not blogging in two days, but i'm refraining.

i'm honestly not sorry. 

i love this place i'm in right now. it's a breathing place, a place where Light overwhelms and rest is finally accepted.

it's a dancing place, a place of scarves and bells and so much leaping to the music of glory as this soul magnifies again and again.

this year is barely twenty-two days old. and it's already the best year of my life. perhaps a cliche, a redundancy that everyone speaks in moments of joy. but this is more than this heart can bear.

:: i'm pregnant ::

these are words i still struggle to speak because of their newness and the awe that accompany their presence against my tongue. as the weeks are ticking by and my exhaustion is deepening and my appetite for every food in sight grows, i also start to smile broader. as this little one gets bigger within me, i cannot help but magnify.

:: i'm going to Europe ::

i'm boarding a plane to Germany and Prague with my little sister in April. i still am in utter awe to the point of falling to my knees with elation and wonder. in a matter of hours it went from maybe to impossible to official, and this trip is now in the middling stages of planning. and again, i magnify.

my soul doth magnify the Lord

and my spirit rejoices in God, my Saviour. 

{via pinterest

there are times when i feel that my level of blessings overflow above and beyond anything i could have ever anticipated.

and then in the moments of darkness when hope seems barely fingertips from reach, i remember this.

these dancing moments where glory brushes the earth and i find myself streaking cheeks with earth in lines of warrior paint and the drums of pounding hearts set the beat for my soul to leap.

oh, i am brave, soul doors thrown open to let the sun warm the broken corners.

oh praise Him.

:: EDIT :: Europe has fallen through. and though my heart broke all afternoon and tears flowed like water, i am still rejoicing. because there is something here for me, something to which i should cling. and home is where i should be now, i see. and i am still magnifying. 

barefooted :: painted one {191-199}

{via pinterest}

there are times when i feel like my life is a painting. strokes on a canvas, some soft and some harsh. like standing back as i watch the artist compose the piece in front of my eyes, unable to see the final product until i touch the shoulder of the concentrating painter, and ask

show me what you see. 

this has been a brushstroke canvas week for me. i've felt peace and war, even at the same time, pressing me inside and outside. this has been a week full of laughter, oh, so much laughter until my eyes streamed and my sides ached for mirth. 

and then there were the moments where the floor and i were companions, fingers curled to my palms as tears coursed their way down my cheeks in unison with the silent sobs where no voice could give way to the

why // why // why?

this is why i love my God. because there was always joy. always eucharisteo found in the midst of the sobs. because of Him. this grace, this promise. 

• 191. His grace which is sufficient. His promises which are never returned void. 

{via pinterest}

• 192. music. that kind that makes you leap and spin and toss your hair until you drown in melody

• 193. blackberry merlot and the company that comes alongside as you sip and laugh and confide and plan and grieve and exchange those knowing looks. 

• 194. raspberry tea and Adele beside the flickering Christmas tree

• 195. this expectation, this anticipation for this coming Salvation. 

• 196. counting down the days like an eager child. we're down to twenty now.

• 197. strawberry Nerds and a tow-headed lad of barely six years giggling, "you're a silly nerd, sister!"

• 198. these brothers and sisters, not by blood but by love.

• 199. the picture of freedom in a day-old baby girl, the symbol of freedom between two freed ones. even her name echos with life: ariadne grace {very holy one with grace}

i have much. i am flooded with His brushstrokes, from head to toe with the soul unforgotten. 

oh, my God holds me close. His arms are sanctuary, His blood is life. 

i cannot rise from this bare-footed hallowed ground. this burning bush of surrender and gratitude and sacred.

barefooted and paint-streaked at His feet. 

{linking with Ann, sharing my gifts as they grow}