from northern lights

icy and dark are what my brain feels – but i dismiss those because the smears of green and purple show beauty and joy emerging from my heart. and stars – they are the freckles of tear stained cheeks. it’s all warm… and mysterious… and safe. 

– “northern lights”

my soul is icy and dark inside. it is fiery, and it is feisty. a battle rages within me, but still i must charge on. i know things will get better. and they have. you see? though darkness looms, the colors surge — making beauty in the night.

but a piece of me is still missing… a clouded thought looms in the dark like a faded memory. but no – it is more than a memory. the other day was a joyous one – filled with laughter, celebration, good food. the day was also a heart-quaky one — filled with emptiness, sorrow, pain. i wanted to leave the dazzling colors and go out for you that day, to call you back. i wanted to reach my arm and catch the last thread flying in the wind. and i wanted to tell you there was an empty seat at the table that only you could fill.

but now i’ve got this sorrow and you’ve got that hurt and we can’t go back to who we were. 

things are different — different without you.

and now, right now, today, i miss you more than anything. i could stand outside in the black of night and howl at the wind, calling your name. but for what i can tell, i would only get my own voice echoing back in dismay. the last thread – once flying, is no longer in sight. at least not that i can see.

i hope somehow you can hear me, even as the wind drowns out my voice. i hope somehow you’ll know that i’ve always seen the green, the purple, and the freckles in you. the green, the purple – they are smears of beauty emerging from deep within, even through those bleakest, darkest nights. remember, too, the freckles of your tear-stained cheeks – the freckles are your stars. i’ve always seen those in you. and you’re still shining brightly and as beautiful as ever.

that’s the beauty of northern lights.

oh and the empty seat – it will always remain specially for you in my heart.

“the stickers only stick if they matter to you. the more you trust my love, the less you care about the stickers.” “i’m not sure i understand.” “you will, but it will take time. remember, you are special because i made you. and i don’t make mistakes.”

— max lucado, you are special


slipping by | pt. 11

(a lot has happened this month… so i apologize in advance for this book. oooops)

dear november —

i. lies… and feelings. thoughts. they all mix into a myriad of a tight heaviness – none of which i should be experiencing right now. he was pushing me in a corner, making me feel smaller than the thin five-foot frame that i really was. and he was succeeding. the events all still rolled out before my eyes as if on instant replay — their eyes searching, pleading at me, giving me a stare down on my performance. and all i did was shrink back. i feel small. insignificant. incapable. and alone.

i. memories… my mind goes too, to the closing of the twelve, not too long ago. her embrace, then seeing her eyes look deep into mine and glistening with tears. she said an i’m sorry to which i managed a slight half a smile and mustered a reply. and then, as everything comes tumbling down, that i’m sorry taunts me and brings more to surface. no’s and whys stir up from within me all over again; not accepting the past and dear God, why did this have to happen

i. dizzy and faint… i stood there in the kitchen, hacking at the pineapples and feeling their prickliness pierce into the walls of my soul but i resolved to grit my teeth and bear it. and next thing i know, it is as if the knife is whisked away and they insist i lie down. so there i am — lying horizontal in bed as the world whirs and tosses me around, while my head and my heart screams for a halt.

i. serve and not be served… the verse comes to mind and i wrestle with my place in this. i came to serve – not be served. and here i am, weak. needy. and being served. 

i. babe… i remember gazing faintly into your eyes, weakly reaching for your hand, then asking you the question. and you said you cared for me too much. then i felt bad and pushed you away, to go join the rest. and you replied, saying no — it’s okay; i will stay. knees drawn to my chin, i sat there on the floor. you wrapped your arm around me and wiped my tears away. your presence was a treasure – though words were few.

i. yam seng… my head tremors and shakes, but my cheeks are spread broad in a smile and pride and joy make my heart swell. grateful for the gift of media, for hearty toasts of good cheer, words breathed with gusto and crafted with intentionality, and prayer huddles in the hallway.

ii. when thank yous don’t sit right… you came over to my corner at the couch and with your usual way of deliberate speaking, you tell me thank you. it was one of those slight smile moments again, and inside i shake my head in wonder. i guess i am not understanding? later on i regret all the sharing, for i merely received adulting advice and a firm suggestion that i couldn’t question. i’m still shrinking. shriveling. shaking. 

ii. the human bobbly head… i stumble into the building, shaking until i could hear my teeth chattering with it. i try to stop it, but no – i just keep trembling. the oilers, they come to my aid. she raises it to my nose, another rubs my feet. and they pray. someone tells me to look, and i lift my head to see them all – encircled in prayer.

ii. team checkin… the whole team assembles around the dinner tables. i sit there, gripping the table, as not to sway. she brings soup, another spoons it. blessed souls. claim a promise, she says. i sit there, searching for one that sticks. the ones that go before me, their promises resound and i nod in my heart. my turn comes, and with a wavering flicker of hope, i proclaim, all things work together for the good… 

ii. i’m fine… but my claims are met by hesitant doubts. soon enough she and he come to meet me. i jabber and talk, happy to see them. we’re brought in, and he looks me up and down. drugs? neurological illness? my head shakes furiously, and it takes a good bit of effort to stifle my laughter. no — when medical professionals have no answer, i know it’s because these forces that we’re up against are stronger than any ones professionals can diagnose.

ii. you don’t have to feel bad… thank you so so much for obeying the voice of God and reaching out over seas to tell me that. thank you for validation and encouragement; for swiveling my head back towards the eyes of Christ and kicking the enemy in the shins.

iii. sl reception… discouragement over the role robbed from my lap was met with joy from the sound of music. dancing, and singing – turning wilderness to wonder

iii. dead… you slide the computer to my lap and i am able to release all the achy heaviness onto an outlet – even if it was via a pixelated screen. we exchange i’m sorrys and i love yous, and we allowed ourselves to just be held. you remind me again that i’m more than a conqueror. you show me there’s sunshine beyond. and there, from those moments, monsters were born. ❤

iii-iv. truly alive… thankful for hand-written notes, for hugs, for family. that night, i felt truly alive – more alive than i had felt in a long while. and it felt good. the night passed, and i awoke feeling anew. i devoted the day to giving back – giving promises, gifts from afar, hugs. and ah yes, it felt good. my heart will sing Your praise again.

iv-v. time together… we laughed lightheartedly, talked about life and the future, then our conversation plunged into the long awaited topic. the topic i had anticipated after all these months, separated by oceans and miles. grateful for words of wisdom, encouragement, the gift of music, and most of all- honesty. thank you, too, for being my shield when deceitful eyes pierced me.

v. dancing in the shadows… cherishing fanciful lights, friends, and turkish ice cream.

vi. mama is very happy… so i am very happy too. seeing her face light up and hearing her exclaim brought such joy to my soul. then she says it hurts… mama hurts. i walk over and put my hand in hers, whispering prayers of comfort. what a gift, Lord, for me to be here with her. oh, how time is a vapor – a mist in the air. thank you for precious moments like these when i think back and remember. remember the life you gave, and the life you give.

vi. quirks of family… grand-uncle, grand-aunt, aunts, and cousin. trying new foods, running in the rain, discussing o levels, and trudging around with blistered feet and food coma. taking things with a fistful of salt and laughing it all away.

viii. sad movies bring waves of sadness… all the emotions crash and hit, as i journey farther and farther from what become my family and my home.

ix. welcomed back as if long lost friends… yes, it’s good to be back. these people – they’re my people. their greetings and hugs drown out the presence of the one i love and hold still dear. the thought of remembrance mixed in with uncertainty crosses my mind, then fades. time changes things. 

x. jet lagged and congested… three four-twelves, three different countries. perhaps this was a crazy idea to get myself into, after all i had gone through? what would you like me to lead, i ask her. but they didn’t need me. discouragement and frustration started to seep in. not needed, Lord? there i was, lying on the couch with my nose exploding and my lips red from blowing, and feeling again like just an extra body.

xi. His grace covers all… i fumbled through and slipped each of the four times on stage that day. failure was my self-label yet again. but you came to me as we exchanged goodbyes, admiring my confidence and poise. grateful for reminders that He is faithful and still speaking even through my times of weakness.

xii. breathe, call these bones to live… gaining new meaning in lyrics. home after a month. raising hands, singing praise, and wiping tears of emotion away as the thought of what has passed since the last time i was standing in this room come tumulting. saying hi to anyone and everyone, and eating up my little sunshines.

xii. fifteen became ninety minutes… sharing stories of the Lord’s goodness and faithfulness and learning from each other over steamy delights.

xiii. heartmelts… it is a joy to stand by you, to show you Truth, and remind you of your beauty. grateful for bubbly moments of grinning like a Cheshire cat in the dark together

xv. who is the Sean in your life? it was the topic of the night. it pained me, but i knew i needed it. then, moments later, the little notification appears. no, not again. yes, yes again? 

xv. i made sure to do it for you… my heart bursted. i wanted to find you and throw myself on you in a hug for your thoughtfulness but i knew you were gone. thank you for making my day.

xxi. grateful for the presence of kaya…

xvii. in the fight… thankful for words sewn together with melodies that help my heart to mend. and the fun joys of jinxes. no one can steal our joy

xviii. time is ticking… in all the frustrations, You bind my wandering heart to thee. You remind me, love is patient, love is kind…

xxii-xxiii. strolling around the city… in the blister cold, sipping hot mocha. dumplings, curry puffs, pumpkin sesame balls, mashed potatoes, and cheesecake — my heart is happy

xxv. dates with sis… and smiling and crying over the wonder and beauty of choosing kind.

xxvi. perfect love casts out fear… grateful for times of sharing and daily conquering.

xxvi. so incredibly loved… watching the sunrise, getting surprised by cherished friends – not once but twice, lovely time of catching up over hot cocoa, and text messages that make me smile.

xxix. annoyances and frustrations… somehow it will all come together.

xxx. what does love look like? we hadn’t talked for months, but we talked as if it was yesterday. thank you for joys over words, for reminding me to love, and being there to listen.

breathe, call these bones to live, call these lungs to sing. once again, i will praise. Jesus, Jesus, You make the darkness tremble. Jesus, Jesus, You silence fear

is. 43.4 / is. 43.10_12 / ps. 77.11_12 / 2 cor. 10.5 / 2 cor. 3.1_3,5_6 / phil. 4.12_13 / romans 4.20_21 / luke 18.27 / job 11.13_18 / is. 40.28_31 / john 15.4_5 / john 15.16 / romans 8.28_30 / romans 8.31_39 / jer. 1.6_9 / 1 john 4.18 / ps. 34.4_10 / ps. 31.20_22 / ps. 20.7_8 / romans 6.5_11 / ps. 119.50 / gal. 4.6_7 / col. 3.4 / heb. 12.3 / is. 55.8_13 / ps. 118.13_17 / eph. 6.10 / lam. 3.19_23

slipping by | pt. 10

dear october —

peacemaking… you took the course. what did you learn? thoughts and emotions swarm my head as you confront me with those questions and all i can think of is i don’t know. the things that come to my mind i merely dismiss. is this what You are trying to tell me in this? oh Lord, i know you refine through the fire but sometimes it is not hard to question your ways and see your purpose through all of this.

peace so unexplainable i can hardly think… it is a wondrous thing how i can be so in need of peace and yet feel so full of peace all in such a short elapse. oh yes — i will praise You in this storm. 

i. understanding… when will you understand? after all these days that fall into weeks that carry on to months. i wish you can turn around and see a glimpse of everything that has cascaded into our worlds from my eyes. maybe then you will understand.

i. breaking down but rising up… tears fell down my cheeks as all the feelings i had suppressed came to surface. melodies play and voices resound, and my heart quakes at knowing Christ is enough and that i can call upon the Lord. i sit there… perched on my stool, frantically wiping to see through my glassy eyes but letting them roll all the same.

iii. it actually went well… Lord, thank you. of all the meetings, i could have had the most anxiety for this one. people, schedules, and feelings to worry about. but i was filled with the calm and you covered the meeting with your assuring hand.

iii. Romans 2… thankful for thought-provoking, deep discussion questions. for digging deeper and finding new revelation. my heart is full and my spirit is happy.

iv. warm hugs, fuzzy socks, and cozy blankets… then new jersey is for me. oh how i love you, babe. you make my heart smile.

vi-vii. time is slipping fast… and i haven’t and can’t seem to manage well. i arose at an early hour and sat for three and a half hours taking that exam with what little preparation i had. i walk the hallways and ask myself what i am doing with my life. this is my gateway to go further in life and i don’t think i’ll pass. 

x. talking to you and seeing your face after too many days to count… it doesn’t matter that we are separated by thousands of miles as we craft our stories with more intentionality and as we laugh and talk and laugh some more. you make it all better, girl.

xi. send off… i stand in the front of the room and he lays his hand on my shoulder. i look around and see all of them, hands extended towards me. praying for me. my love for this family grows more and more. even if it includes the most awkward of hugs from the most awkward of people.

xi. stomach pains like never before… then one after another say it has a name — anxiety. i can’t help but overthink, but why am i constantly so anxious, Father?

xiii. what makes you beautiful… you continue to care despite everything swirling around you. that just swooped right down into my heart and gets me every time.

xvii. she slips into the arms of Jesus… but all i could think of was what would happen to me. i overhear murmurs. the funeral. next Saturday. the importance of family. oh dear Lord, what is your meaning behind this timing? it pains me. it pains us all. the importance of tradition and doing what is culturally right and respectful. what does that mean? give me strength.

xvii. despite everything, you still grow… be proud of this. thank you, honey for your words. He uses them more than you know.

xvii. we will overcome… by the blood of the Lamb and the Word of our testimony. the enemy, he is thrashing and gnashing his teeth. he knows. he knows just how victorious we will come out of this so he attacks all the more.

xviii. frantic calls and texts… i know they’re there in fellowship. i know they are safe. i see the texts pop up. i see the multiple questions and the anxious calls. but my guts are tied up in knots and i decide no. not right now. i want care and attention, i do. i need support. i want love, i want encouragement, i want some reassurance. but my insides are confused with my heart. i feel needy but feel bad for being needy. i know i will have to explain myself in the end but right now i just want it all to go away.

xx. the dreaded email… i take a chance and open it. shock, then comes rejoicing in the form of laughter. laughter at the absurdity of it; laughter until my sides hurt and tears rolled down my cheeks. you made a way when there was no way

xx-xxi. it’s actually happening… tears dribble their way down as they all pray over me. the mad scramble of packing, then driving to EWR. getting to catch dear larissa in her bubbly cuteness made my heart happy.

xxii. wanting to connect… but i realize it’s only day two.

xxii. can we pray together? checking in our flights, awaiting boarding passes… all of a sudden the climate changes and our once glorious hopes were held stiff, a luminous cloud hanging over us. he is ill, he had a fever. and now… she is anxious, having second thoughts. thank you for serving our Lord so faithfully and turning to Him as first reaction. your faith is inspiring to me. thank you for being that example for me.

xxii. we boarded and taxied… i put on a movie and dozed off, my head cradled in my pillow. then our plane turns around and next thing we know we deboard. flight cancelled. discouragement upon my already low tank of strength. we sit there for nearly twelve hours in total. so close and yet so far… when will we arrive? you stayed up all through the night. my love for you has intensified. ❤

xxiv. reflections… when it is what it is meets i am who i am. when the blessing of learning that phrase becomes my mantra today and moving forward.

xxvi. reunited… finally. the prolonged wait of the extra two days just made the easipeacc welcome all the more joyous.

xxvii. day one… schedule walkthrus and facility details and it all comes upon me. i don’t knows tumble out over and over. numbers become bigger and the room shrinks in comparison.

xxvii. it’s hard doing it alone… they all have their somebody. and then there’s just me. all it took for me to get here, and i’m just here sitting by myself.

xxviii. four twelve… absolute chaos here, i stated helplessly. they’re not listening. they’re jumping off walls. the others – they turn to me. what should we do? i don’t know. all the plans in my hands, the ones toiled and thought over, now tossed out the window. my hands are empty, Lord. i have nothing. i step back and step in. people over project, right, God? i stoop down and sit on the floor. i ask names, i look into the little eyes of their little faces. i smile, i hug, i cuddle. i encourage and compliment. i can connect. i can encourage. i can help people feel valued… all i have are open hands. 

xxviii. peace be still… you embraced us in the hallway, bringing our desperate hearts to the throne of Jesus. you sent text after text of prayer, encouragement, and Scripture. and there we sat on the floor, staring and rereading those reminders and promises sent across a world away but right there for us in spirit. in my deepest desperation and moment of weakness, You are here with me.

xxviii. we need help… plans change upon my frantic request and reinforcements troop into the room. then their ears begin to bend towards our voice. your face comes alive… and i watch your eyes grow big and their eyes grow bigger. you snap into life. and it’s beautiful. so, so beautiful.

xxviii. coach ride… reflecting on confluence. singing songs and joining with laughter. learning culture. life – it feels good.

xxviii. dwelling on the wrong things at the wrong time… my body grew tired as the coach drove on its merry way. my mind drifted and fell back to the events of the day. you noticed. and hesitant as i was, i bit my lips and tried to match feelings into words. you hugged me close, and though i don’t remember all the things you said, i know how you made me feel. tenderly loved. and – you are planting seeds in my heart. thank you for doing the same for me.

xxix. why am i even here… five hour coach rides bring more time for thinking, and overthinking, as well as disappointment and despair. i didn’t meet what i came to do. dark and scary thoughts loom before me. and yet you say smile… you’re doing your best. thank you for your words. they are oh, so perfect.

xxix. my head rested on your shoulder… you had yours resting on mine, and your arm wrapped around me. we shared the embrace in the kind of silence that speaks well past words. and as time ticked by, i felt your head nudge mine… and your arm slowly fall from its place. and oh, my heart. the feeling – it’s rather inexpressible. even now, it still gives flutters. sweet sleep.

xxx. yes we’re singing in the rain… singing in the rain. what a glorious feeling, we’re happy again. thankful for people that battle the rain with open hands and fervent prayers. thankful for people that are filled with joy in standing in the rain. and i’m thankful for people who change atmospheres and change attitudes – who turn to singing in the rain. thankful, so thankful, for being able to join people and rise with hymns of unbroken praise no matter the weather outside or in our hearts.

xxx-xxxi. thank you for getting us home… thankful for adventures. i am reminded again that approaching this all with open hands means i am ready for anything He brings us to. for if He brings us to it, He will bring us through it. our God will supply all our needs according to His glorious riches… with a little bit of humor and good nature mixed in too, i suppose. take it all… Lord haveYour way. 

Jesus, i surrender all – every victory and loss. take it all, take it all ’till all i have is open hands.

ps. 127.1_2 / is. 30.19_21 / ps. 145. 13_21 / rev. 21. 3_7 / ps. 29.11 / is. 60.1_2 / matt 17.20 /  zech. 4.6 / ps. 77.11_12 / is. 43. 10_12 / ps. 16.8 / ps. 121 / ps. 18 / ps. 77

slipping by | pt. 9

dear september —

i. paralysis… worry and fear paralyzed me. oh no, Father… not again. but yes, it seems. yes… again.

iii. pride… pride got the best of me, and i could feel it. i was running on a performance cycle rather than a serving heart. i wonder if hamsters get exhausted once in awhile or maybe that’s just me.

iv. memories… bowling alleys and bbqs. cannolis and laughter. lighthearted conversations, but also bittersweet ones. sitting on the pink carpet, posing for a last picture, with our faces forlorn – all i think about is how dreadfully short life is and how whatever we have now we won’t have forever.

v. mr. nice guy… i understand now. my heart cringes at every menacing act and now i’m just as fired up as before.

v. voice… gonna help you find your voice… 

vii. prayers… when you realize the prayers you utter for someone else become your heart’s cry too.

viii. midday encouragement… i had one person in mind, but when God gives you an idea, he likes to make things as big as he can. so out it went. and wow God. it is more blessed to give than to receive. 

viii. wifey… you helped me be myself tonight. you filled me with laughter and silly antics until we had to be shushed. but girl, if i had to be shushed for once, it’s a good sign indeed. in fact, you made me feel safe. and most of all, you helped me break loose and be free. free to finally be me– in a place that’s supposed to be home and feel like family. and for that, i thank you.

viii. victimized… i feel like the victim. she broke down, and all of a sudden tension broke loose. and i got so annoyed when he came over and invaded my personal bubble. there is therefore no condemnation… 

iv. mornings texts… i genuinely appreciate that mixed with promises of truth and sending angels your way make my heart just a few ounces lighter.

xi-xii. heartache… here i sit, writing a date at the top of my page. flashbacks, numbers, anxiety. is this what depression feels like? i wrote for therapy; some cared to ask, some didn’t. and sadly enough, some of those who did ask, didn’t seem to really care for that matter.

xi. just listening… that’s all i did. but what came out of it was so beautiful. so beautiful that it could have only been arranged by Him. it’s not me — it’s God.

xii. grateful… and forever thankful for thoughtful hearts like yours. i am so glad God brought me a gem like you. your love you mores and sorrys mean the world to me as all else fades away.

xv-xvi. resuscitation… today, an extra bit of fresh, living air was pumped into my heart through the mouth of the beautiful brokenness of another and through the reviving power of one of my favorite bands. your failing heart is never actually failing. when God claims you, He will never fail you. 

xvii. Joyce… its meaning – cheerful and happy; bringer of joy. oh tis so sweet; what an angel! you gave me a quick hug, and reached over and gave me another — this time hugging even more tightly and longer than before, then facing me with your bouncy manner and smile so broad. that was the love of the Father! 

xvii. reminiscing… celebrating accomplishment, community, and the incredible power of cheerwine.

xx. trying to understand… in the midst of this chaos, open up my eyes in wonder. show me who you are and fill me with your love to those around me.

xxiii-ixxx. serenity… grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, courage to change the things i can, and wisdom to know the difference.

xxvii. walks… thank you for walking life with me. for guiding me in wisdom and truth. let’s make this a daily thing, shall we? from now till the day i embark to the next place i’ll be for four years. alas, senioritis. it is real. i am going to miss you so much.

xxvii. sweet friend… with statistics as a conversation starter and personalities as a common bonding, we started sharing of each other. oh sweetheart, thank you for being real with me, and letting me be the same with you. counting down the days till we meet again…

xxviii. words… they bleed. the pixels and ink — they smear the torn, wrinkled, scorched pages. they haunt too. repeated event after repeated event, not sure whether to laugh at the devil’s schemes or cry in defeat.

xxix. bitterness… holding it together until i could stand no more. where’s the sky when i hit the ground?

xxx. i sat there on the couch, holding back tears. you take my hands and beckon me to look into your eyes. my small frame melts as yours envelops me — things are going to get better, baby

xxx. i feel alive… i’ve come alive. the joy of the Lord, yes it’s been restored in me. the peace of the Prince, yes oh yes… it’s come over me.

walking around these walls, i thought that by now they’d fall…waiting for change to come, knowing the battle’s won, for You’ve never failed me yet. 

col. 2.6_7 / ps. 37 /  dan. 12.3 / ps. 125.1 / is. 45.2_3 / is. 46.4 / ps. 30.5 / ps. 94.18_22 / jer. 17.7_14 / 1 pet. 1.6_7 / 2 cor. 4.7_11 / is. 57.18_19 / ps. 77.16,19_20 / job 11.13_19 / ps. 37 nlt / ps. 55.22


they happened so long ago. i thought i had stuffed them down, scrunched them like paper to a ball and thrown them far beyond my eyes could see. yet they're all of a sudden coming back… like a boomerang. all flooding back.

those pen-inked stains of my wrist when i wrote the date across the top right corner of my journal – when all i felt was a weak dullness in my heart and words became my comfort. there was a time when those heavy hearted dates were permeated across my forehead. they left their mark, and i thought that mark would never leave – always at the front of my mind. but they did. slowly but surely, those inked markings began to wear away. they no longer shrouded my thoughts or trampled my spirits. and yet today i see numbers. the numbers i thought i had erased and moved past from. they've come again. all flooding back

slipping by | pt. 8

dear august —

i. our love for each other broke loose as we ventured into greater depths and allowed ourselves to look into into the heart of the other.

ii. he whines and drags his feet, sending her voice to rise and fall with increasing intensity, then snap. and there i sit, bending to accommodate, but whispers cloud my brain. missing out; disregarded; alone; not special anyway. turmoil boils within me. should i have gone? i will never know.

ii. anxiety rose and despair bubbled from within me. things that ought to have been were no longer there. and yet that thought pops up – practice faith instead of projecting with fear – and gives me peace of mind. when disappointments and stress abound, you were my comfort.

ii. she is upset with me. i did it out of love, but i feel she didn’t feel it in return. oh, to think that there will be a time when i will no longer be your mate as i have been all these years. let’s make these times count, dear. i’m sorry.

iii. living a love does life requires daily surrender and conscious effort. thanks for showing me how i need to make love an action verb and not just a state of being.

iii. i feel bleh now that my heart is stable. now i’m not okay with being okay. and life moves on…

v. in the midst of lows and discouragement, you gave me words to say. you put a song in my mouth. you planted seeds of truth that just kept on flowing. and it felt beautiful… and oh, so freeing to be a vessel of assurance. it was not i, but him. keep speaking truth…

v. he answered the bonus question on that quiz and my heart gave way. disappointment. pain. rejection. i’m sorrys won’t make things better… not right here, not right now. why did i allow myself to be hurt in this way. i’m not comfortable with who i am anymore…

v. i wish i could have had a moment to look you in the eye, hold you tight like that time just a few weeks ago, and say how much i would miss you. words don’t suffice. and you knew that. your texts… you showed me you really cared about exactly how i felt. i am thankful for honest exchanges in the midst of bumps and feeling like hell, and when people are being a baka. you’re there. i care. i think you’re just fine. you’re not unloved. i love you and you’re not alone cause i’m here still. those words are my security… even in the midst of the heartache.

vi. the quaking of my heart broke loose as every lie was met face to face with the voice of truth. i sat there, elements in hand, and tears clouded my eyes. you give life, you are love, you bring light to the darkness, you give hope, you restore very heart that is broken…

vii. you can’t walk right; you’re turning in. crooked; like a pigeon… it’s actually cute. no, i know it isn’t. don’t make it sound like it is. but thanks for those gentle reminders of beautiful imagery that comes with crooked feet.

viii. my heart stopped again. i seem to be prone to heart attacks lately, i must say. your questions – they are insensitive. your words – condescending. only when i snap, do you offer some uplifting words. and the comment i utter in return – simple, yet beautiful and profound. when you’re in the deepest pain you learn to treasure even the slightest joyful moments.

viii. you are my rock. with you i will not be shaken. you are so cool and your timing is incredible.

viii. he wanted a facetime and of course i couldn’t say no. and when he told me why, i nearly burst into tears. dang, warm sensations swelled in me. not because of what we had done, but what he did. trust is lovely, when not harmed. he makes beautiful things out of us…

ix. you are a world changer. don’t let anyone or anything come between you and your purpose… oh, my soul. thank you for your heart and your random email. you spoke into me exactly what i need to hear.

ix. i won’t begin to try to imagine what you are going through, hon. but i can see it in your eyes… not just the physical pain but also your heart. i want to get through to you… but all i’ll say for now is that i’m sorry and i love you… through it all, my eyes are on You – it is well with me. yes – it is well with my soul.

x. late night hazy thoughts brought uneasy convictions. what’s been done can’t be undone… i need love to cover the shame and regret.

xi. juggling between surface-level inclusion and real, deep community is oh so hard.

xi. when you pass through the waters, i will be with you. when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you… grateful for beautiful melodies hemmed by equally beautiful souls.

xiii. memories came flooding back. i will build my life upon your love… i will not be shakenshe walked up… and i did too. and the spirit of God came down. yet she turned around with dumbfounded shock… why?

xiv. all of a sudden i feel like skipping and leaping like Motel Kamzoil – wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles. shout it, go on and scream it from the mountains… that he is God.

xiv. prophetic words – grace upon grace. fresh pouring out of anointing oil, running over my face. art… and a wide and beautiful canvas. relationships too… and peace instead of anxiety. as she said those words, my eyes met hers and gazed deep within. thank you, my angel.

xv. thank you for lunch dates with my fellow twin. her discerning spirit encourages me to come into the light. and he shares his own moments of darkness, assuring me that i’m not alone. grateful for heart-to-hearts.

xv. laughing till tears roll down our cheeks… three hours of catching up and adding bits and pieces does a soul much good. celebrate good times, come on.

xvi. soak in God’s grace… grace, crashing over me. crashing over and over and over…

xvii. demons run and flee, at the mention of your name, King of majesty. wow, God. a force was great upon my chest, i could hardly breathe; my limbs felt numb, and then panic had stricken me. i didn’t know what to make of it. there are still so many questions. but she said, there is no reason to be scared. God’s not scared. my eyes are open now. i do believe.

xvii. disappointments and blame pained my spirit as things didn’t happen the way i had hoped. clinging to the promise of redemption despite seemingly missed opportunities.

xvii. he asked if he could vent and my heart broke for him. suddenly his insensitivities didn’t matter anymore because now i knew his story.

xviii. you called my name and i ran out of that grave. yet i came home and it seemed like i was buried deep again. he is sneaky. but i must stay strong. keep singing that fight song.

xviii. she said she would see him that day and something in me begged to break off the falsehood. no, dear… something happened and all i feel is love. not the kind of love that is infatuated and mushy with feelings, but the kind of love we were meant to have for each and every human soul.

xix-xxiii. prone to wander Lord i feel it, prone to leave the God i love… in the storm we conquer, we fight. we raise our banner high, for we know that He who promised is faithful.

xxi. frustrations abound. what do i do and how.

xxii. taking time to exchange lies and replace them with goodness and truth. i am deeply and immeasurably loved…

xxiii. i’m breathing in your grace, i’m breathing out your praise… forever my heart will sing

xxiv. thank you for the joy of realizing the correct day of the week… it made my heart so happy.

xxiv. he has drifted. gone absent. being sad about the thought is rather an understatement. or am i taking things too personally with my head wrapped in fantasies?

xxiv. hand in hand we walk together. the air is fresh, the talk is pleasant.

xxv. texts pop in and i grow bitter. in pain there is a purpose, in hurt there is a hope… 

xxvi. oh how my heart rejoiced when what was lost is now found. the impossible can always be made possible.

xxvii-xxx. i’m not sure what to do anymore… and honestly, i don’t know if i want to do anymore.

xxxi. panic gripped me by the neck, shook me back and forth, sent me flying. someone said it, and it shot a million triggers in my already crazy brain. i am sinking down in a sea of whys…

xxxi. thankful for three-hour long concerts in the comfort of our home. for the cause of Houston, but more like the comfort for my heart and soul.  in the middle of the storm, you are in control. in the middle of the war, you guard my soul. you alone are the anchor, when my sails are torn… your love surrounds me in the eye of the storm.

there are days when clouds surround us, and the rain begins to fall, the cold and lonely winds won’t cease to blow. and there seems to be no reason for the suffering we feel; we are tempted to believe God does not know. when the storms arise, don’t forget we live by faith and not by sight… bow the knee.
wow thanks for an eventful month. for testing and refining through the fire. for drawing me closer to yourself into intimacy with you.
matt. 11.28_30 / gen. 50.20_21 / john 14.27 / ps. 37.7 / is. 54.10 / ps. 147.14_16 / matt. 7.24_27 / 1 peter 1.6_7 / is. 42_16 / ps. 27.13_14 /  is. 40_29 / ps. 23.1_6

slipping by | pt. 7

dear july —

ii. we talked about our feelings about the upcoming week. and he leaned over and said — hey, it’s gonna get better. and sitting side by side, my heart felt light. and for a second, i was sure that indeed it would… get better.

ii. names were called and a bullet went through my chest – sinking deeper and deeper, causing the already scarred walls of my soul to bleed all the more.

iii. you showed me how to risk being vulnerable and to open myself up to others. now, she is a safe sister i can vent to and one whose words are so quotable i write them up for keeps.

iv. i’ll be brutally honest and say sometimes my heart spills over with fury. but somewhere, in that wee little corner so far and yet distinct whispers that tugging command… to love.

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