woman ablaze

{via pinterest}

i am the girl on fire. 

i am the woman ablaze.

or at least, i want to be. i want to walk a path once dim and watch it glimmer as the lights flicker into being and line the steps so that others can come after and not trip on the stones. 

i love the moon and the stars 

almost more than the sun.

it's a softer light, not blinding. i can gaze upward when the moon shines gentle and whispers hope better than when the sun leaves spots behind my lashes, even when they're closed. 

and that's what i want to be the world. soft light pointing to the Son that comes in the dawning, not a second sun that comes where it shouldn't and speaks too loud and too blinding for the world to understand. 

there is beauty in the soft light. beauty in the candlewick as it flickers in the night, the softest glow that illuminates the eyes and the heart and the soul. the Word was penned by light of wax and string dipped and twisted together, gentleness on fire. 

{via pinterest}

because we're all about the megaphone these days. all about the fist-banging to startle the sleepers and frighten them from their daze. 

but don't you rather it when a hand gently touches your shoulder, a soft shake to rouse you and guide you from pillow to daylight? there is a time and a place for the brightness that overwhelms, and there is a time for the caress of tenderness. 

we forget. yes, He toppled tables. but there was soft weeping, too. 

oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem. 

how I longed to gather you to Me....

i am the girl on fire. 

i am the candle ablaze. 

and oh, i long 

to be the moon that heralds the Son. 

breathing phoenix rain

{via pinterest}

sometimes i wonder just what i am. i wonder if all this writing i do ever amounts to anything, if all it will ever do is sit in the recesses of my computer.

every time i read over my old work -- those worlds of my own creation, those characters whom i love like pieces of myself -- i wonder if anyone will ever see them, ever treasure them like i do.

and if they did see, would they love? or would my mountain become their molehill, lost in translation and unconveyed in their importance to me, to the world?

this fear almost cripples me. it's almost enough to jerk my words from me into darkness and shut the light tight on all my aspirations.

but without words

i wouldn't be able to breathe. 

not really. because see, that's what He gave me. to some He gave song, and to some He gave paint, and to others He gave a stand.

but i received words. He poured them into my soul, wove my spirit from ink and parchment and inspiration that i have yet to fully uncover. and He begs me

be writer, dearheart.

be this thing I made you to be. 

:: be writer ::

{via pinterest}

and so i keep writing. not for money or fame or any sort of plans set in stone.

but for love. 

only for love. 

and in this darkness, in the silence of night, my fingers grasped something and held on tightly. and i set my fingers to paper, and the ashes parted to reveal that which was hidden.

phoenix rain.

right now, there is so little. but it's enough to pull at me. for love, for wings, for future and dreams.

i have my breath. my paint, my canvas.

my story. 

her story. 

:: His story ::

all together now.

{unwrapping this glory today with emily}

तारों का

Yes, the title of this blog post in in Hindi.

It's pronounced "tārōṁ kā." It means "starlight."

Why am I suddenly putting up posts in Hindi?

Two reasons.

1. Hindi is a gorgeous language -- the lilting words of a breathtaking land. I have always dreamed of going to India and becoming totally immersed in its complicated language, rich culture, and heart-stopping scenery.

2. It's a beautiful word, used to convey a remarkable reality.

...can you imagine?

The beauty of standing on the marble dais of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India.

Gazing up at the millions of sparkling lights, bright against the midnight blue of the night sky.

The realization that, no matter where you are on earth, the One who placed each of those stars and knows every single one of them by name...knows me, by name.

Seven continents. Six of them are populated. There are 1,139,964,932 of them in India alone! (2008 census).

And He sees me. He stepped down from Heaven and set aside His royal status.

The hands that held the world and cradled the stars were nailed to two splintered beams of wood. The voice that rejoiced with the angels at the Creation of the world was raised to the sky, wailing in sorrow to His Father..."My God, my God, Why have You forsaken Me?!"

He died to bring me back to life.

So tonight, take a soft blanket and lay in the grass. Look up at the stars, no matter where you are in the world.

Because that soft, twinkling starlight that can make us feel so very small and alone in the world...

...should actually remind us how special we are to Him.