in which i have clothespins

{via pinterest

my grandma has an outdoor clothesline.

it's tied from the low eave of the roof and strung across the lawn to the large maple tree that stands in the center.

ever since i was a little girl, she has carried her sheets in her wicker laundry basket onto the back porch. the tin pail of clothespins sits right inside the door.

from the first warmth of spring to the first snows of winter, the linens flutter in the wind.

it still fascinates me.

on warm days like this one, even in this November chill, my thoughts wander back that clothesline and those rippling sheets and pillowcases.

i despise laundry. it is the one chore i would rather avoid entirely.

but if i had a washline like that, i would do load upon load. i would wash my clothes every single day.

because it's a reminder. 

sometimes i feel like a pile of rumbled linens, tumbled together in a basket.

i can't stand on my own.

but i have clothespins to steady me. 

shoulderbearers.

{via pinterest}

my Aarons and my Urs, under my elbows to keep my arms reaching upward.

one at each corner, holding me to the Line so that i don't fall into the dirt and became filthy again. i was just washed. i want to stay clean.

and these people are my accountability. they bear me up. they hold me to the Line to which i must daily cling.

these sisters and brothers.

my clothespins.

and on these cool days, the winds blows my curtains back and lets the breeze caress my shoulders.

it's a reminder, really.

a reminder that i'm held. 

by Him, and by them.

by my clothespins to the Line.

Timeline

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. ~Eleanor Roosevelt

It is now 2011.

Wow.

For me, this is almost impossible to believe. I feel as if I blinked and have passed from January to January without hardly a second thought.

Did last year leave me behind?

To be honest, however, 2010 was a year of a lot of changes for me...many of which were beyond fantastic.

I reconnected with an amazing old friend after almost two years of silence, and found myself in a brand-new friendship that picked up as if things had never left off and has radically changed my life.

God answered my prayer for a female best friend, and I have never been more blessed to have her in my life as a sister and warrior on this road together.

I celebrated a landmark -- one year of marriage to my incredible husband, which still continues to blow my mind and delight my soul.

I met amazing people who have loved me and changed me for the better.

I started this blog, which has been a dream of mine, and was a resolution for 2010 that I actually saw through to fruition.

The blessings that have been heaped upon me still blow my mind and draw me to my knees time and time again.

However, this year has also been one of the hardest of my life. I have cried more than I ever thought possible. I lost precious friends for one reason or another -- some because of serious issues, and others over trivialities that I wish I could take back. My heart has broken almost to the point of bleeding -- both for myself and for those I love.

I have made so many mistakes...I look back at certain points over the past year and I weep with the utter shame of it all. In all honesty, there were so many points when I just wanted to give up...to give in to my own insecurities and lack of strength and simply let the world slip through my fingers.

But it takes the bad with the good to give me a reason to step forward.

If this past year had been nothing but good things -- perfect blue skies without a single thunderstorm, how then would I have grown?

It takes fire to refine the dross away from silver; it takes lightning and thunder for crops to grow.

The hands of the clock keep ticking by.

Soon enough, 2012 will be upon us. But that is the future.

2009 is gone.

2010 is gone.

The past is over and buried under the blood of the One who looked from moment to moment and decided that I was worth His ultimate sacrifice.

And so, this year, I begin with only one resolution.

To grow.

To climb further up and further in.

To find my footing in Jesus Christ instead of myself...to allow myself to reach out and take His nail-scarred hand...

...to rise and rise again.

So here's to love and loss, to tears and joys, to passions and disappointments.

To growth and to journeys.

To becoming more like Him.

Here's to fresh starts and new beginnings.

Here's to 2011.

Beautiful Scars

"Hate leaves ugly scars; love leaves beautiful ones." ~Mignon McLaughlin

This morning, I took the black, inky tip of Sharpie to my arms.

It goes against everything we were taught as children -- how many times were we scolded for writing on our skin with pens or markers of various sorts?

However, today, I simply cannot think of a better reason to go against the grain.

So, Sharpie in hand, I carefully wrote four simple letters on each arm.

L. O. V. E.

Why?

Because I love you. And I've been there.

To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA, www.twloha.com) is an incredible organization made up of hundreds of people all around the world, standing against the lie that is so commonly whispered in the ears of today's youth.

"Nobody loves you. You're not worth anything. You might as well simply die. All you can do to numb the pain is to draw that razor blade across your wrist. You're nothing."

And so, several times a year, people all around the world take out their Sharpies and write these four simple letters across the skin on their arms for no other reason that to raise awareness regarding depression, hate, self-mutilation, and suicide.

So many people make their way through this world hiding behind a smile, or simply trying to blend into the woodwork. They don't want anyone to know that their hearts are screaming, that their hearts are bleeding for lack of love.

I used to be like that. I tried to keep up a brave face and keep smiling. In fact, very few people even knew that my heart was dying and all I wanted to do was curl up in a corner and simply vanish. I wanted out in the worst way.

My own scars serve as a daily testament to where I was...where I used to be...the musical score to the most agonizing symphony I have ever found myself conducting.

This is why this day means so much to me. I want to the world to know that I've been there. I want those broken, wounded souls to know that they are NOT alone. They ARE loved...and not just by me.

You see, there was once a Man who wrote LOVE in the most ultimate, self-sacrificial way.

He wrote LOVE on His body in blood...in lashes...in thorns...in nails...in the blood-stained splinters of a cross.

And He did it for me.

The reality of this is so powerful to me, as a former broken angel, that it brings tears to my eyes as I sit here thinking about the extreme LOVE that was showered upon me.

I was undeserving. I was broken. Cut down. Covered in scars.

And His blood took my agony, my shame, and my fear.

He LOVED me. He wrote His LOVE on my heart.

He made my scars beautiful.

To Write Love On Her Arms Day -- November 12, 2010

For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. ~Romans 8:38-39

World-Turners

The people who influence us the most are not those who detain us with their continual talk, but those who live their lives like the stars in the sky and “the lilies of the field”— simply and unaffectedly. Those are the lives that mold and shape us. ~Oswald Chambers

This is for the ones who live...

...who stand up when the world is sitting down...

...who fight when everyone else has fled the battlefield.

I wish you knew exactly how you

Inspire me.

I wish I had the right words to convey

How much you

Amaze me.

Maybe it's the way you stand alone,

Moving the crowd

Instead of them moving you.

Maybe it's the way you love from day to day.

From the simple word

To the more precious gesture.

You live the love.

You inspire me to push upward.

Onward.

Heavenward.

You're more than just my friends...

...more than just my family...

...you're my heroes.

You're my favorite kind of inspiration.

Because you don't just talk.

You live.