the labour room

{photo taken the day of Marian's birth
by Abigail Dahl}

pressing in is not always elegant. it is not always a tender touch of hands on shoulders, it is not always what happens in a jubilant moment at the end of a church conference. it doesn’t always happen in cherished community.

sometimes it’s a falling, a plunging of brokenness and tears onto the couch, a visceral sobbing into cushions as the vice of pressing in seems like it will crack you from head to toe like a china doll left in the ruins of an abandoned museum.

it can be the scariest thing you’ve ever experienced.

for me, it was the day my daughter was born...

{I'm sharing the story of the day Marian entered the world, the day that everything shook, and the day that pressing in became tactile holiness. join me here for the rest, won't you?}

mismatched vessels

{via pinterest}

i have two sets of dishes in my cupboards.

they could not be more different.

one is round, blue and green and flecked with brown.  the other is square, with deep strokes of tan and chocolate.  there are chips and cracked edges. they are far from perfect.

but i can't help but run my fingers over the edges and ponder these imperfect servants of mine.

because they resonate. i feel as though we converse at times, as i wipe them dry and stack them carefully again.

from one cracked vessel to another. 

i marvel often how my Jesus teaches me through the simplest of things. 

how i can look at this unusual collection of plates and bowls and matching mugs and find my reflection in their surface. 

because isn't that what we are in Christ? a mismatched collection of imperfect people, these chipped pieces of china and these pottery plates. 

{via pinterest}

these broken, beautiful ones who join hands and whisper

lead me to the Cross.

and so i cannot help but stop and run my fingers over each fragile corner, every lasting stroke that paints the portrait of Love on each ceramic surface. 

i don't claim perfection. i claim Christ. 

and so i stand with the strong and the beautiful.

i stand with the mismatched. 

 but we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.

--2 Corinthians 4:7-9 

{linking with emily and all my imperfect companions.
freedom in brokenness}

Forgiven

"For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, loves little." ~Luke 7:47

I know that this blog is prone to lean to the more poetic side of my life. Elegant musings on springtime, reflections on holidays, or just the delicate moments of my own life which I chose to make important for whatever reason.

But not this time.

This time I need to be raw. Real.

Because, to be honest, I've never realized ANYTHING like this before.

It's scary...but here goes.

I have an issue with letting myself be forgiven.

In fact, I think that I believe that I am entire unworthy of forgiveness.

That my past mistakes -- and even those I have yet to make -- have set me in a place where I past the point of being forgiven by anyone.

Not by those I love.

Not by myself.

Not even by God.

And then, I spent a nearly sleepless night, curled up with tears pouring down my face. Every time I closed my eyes, it was like a horrific home movie playing back behind my eyelids...replaying every awful moment, every moment of shame, every whisper of guilt.

But suddenly, someone switched off the projector.

There was nothing left but darkness. And the voice of Jesus Christ.

"I forgive you. You are forgiven. Your shame is gone. You have to let go. You have to let yourself be forgiven."

And so I let one finger slide off the edge.

I'm slowly letting go.

I'm accepting forgiveness.

From the ones who love me more than anything.

From the ones who could have given up on me...but didn't.

From the ones who would die for me.

And from the One who already did.