Why Write?

Writing does something for me. I dont' know what it is, but it fuels something in my soul. It brings out thoughts I can't seem to articulate with my lips. It's the camcorder for the moments, days and years of my life. I can look back over 20 plus journals that cronical the last 10 years and see where I was and where I am now. I can see the beautiful ways the Lord has heard His daughter and answered. I can see the growth of my faith, the lack of faith in dark seasons, the struggles, the fear, the joy, the thankfulness. All of it. All of life staring back at me from the pages.

I see the journeys of faith. Single. College. Boyfriends. India. Peru. Mexico. Philly. Full-Time Ministry. Married. Saying hello to in-laws. Saying good-bye to my father. Attempting full time student-hood again. Starting and ending a business. Deep financial struggle. Moving across the country. Darkness. Joining the community that's becoming family. Reconciliation and Redemption. Buying a home. Saying hello to a step-family. Becoming a Mother.

When I get a new journal, I always sit for a moment staring at that first blank page. I don't know what it is about it, but there is something inviting. Something beckoning to me to record life. To fill the pages with the beauty and the strife that is the life we all live. A place to be real. To be honest. To be naked.

I am thankful for the writing. Thankful I have recorded life in this way. Reading back reminds me of where we have been, where we are, and where we will be one day soon.

Reading takes me right back to the full emotional brunt of whatever was flowing that day. My tenuous personality is obvious. My fear, faithlessness, begging and tears are clear. And alongside, His faithful oozes from the pages. His truth screams freedom. And I remember. I thank. And I rest.

How do you rest?

A question that the hubs and I have often posed to one another is: "How do you rest?" The question is continually directed toward me, as, I find it hard to rest. I find it hard to find how I rest.

Most people can tell you something that revives their spirit.

If I can just get a cup of tea and curl up in that chair...

I need a bubble bath and a glass of Shiraz...

Coffee at that shop on the corner, wrapped up in the scents, calming music and my favorite book...

Candlelit dinner with my love...Gardening...driving...playing my instrument...painting...scrapbooking... pedicure...spa day...shall I go on??

Yet, here I sit. 24 hours ago, I was crying and yelling at my soulmate. Because. I. Can't. Rest. I can't find that magical one thing that revives my spirit and helps me feel centered again. He is more than willing to watch our child so I can "get out." But, the question always sits heavy. A bowling bowl that leaves the hand wrong on its journey down the lane. Dropping with a mighty thud on the wood. What is my thing I want to do?

And here I find myself. Planted behind my keyboard. Typing. Words flowing. And weight lifting. Could this be the thing? The thing I can do to find release and rest in the midst of my crazy "un-restful" moments? Or could it be a mixture of all of the above? The gardening, pedicures, wine and these words, all mixed together in a beautiful life casserole. All the flavors are always present, but consistently changing based on the bite you take.

I don't have a clean ending to this post for I am continually in process. Thanks for journeying along with me.

Rebirth

This time last year we were packing Dave's bags and prepping to send him off to the great state of Texas. My how time flies, huh? He was leading the way for me and coming out to get a lay of the land, see what this great flat state might have to offer this wandering couple.

Little did we know what transformations would happen between April 2009 and today. We arrived with such grand plans. Plans that seemed at the time to be the exact path that the Lord would have us walk. I mean, after all, we had prayed about it for a whopping 15 seconds, right?! Despite our flighty, half-thought through misadventures, Christ met me here. He met me in the midst of the month apart, the packing of our home without half of me, the repainting of an apartment, the final goodbyes.

And this decision, the most drastic decision I have ever agreed to, become a most beautiful rebirth of two people.

This rebirth has not been without pain, I assure you. No birth can be. But the joy on the other side of the pain has been well worth the agony. Just as a mother's body contracts and releases, writhes and wrenches in the pain of childbirth; so has my life and that of the man closest to me over the last 11 months. And now we sit with a beautiful new life in our arms.

I'm sitting in the home we just bought, looking at my yard, eating dinner I cooked on brand new appliances that we bought. Tomorrow we will celebrate the birthday of my father-in-law, a man I only call Dad. A man who is honorable, loving, God fearing and Christ honoring. A man who is pouring his life into my husband. And my heart nearly explodes with the blessing of having him in my life. Dave is launching a construction business. Not in the way of a rushed youngster with his eye on dollar signs. But in the way of a man who is seeking to provide for his wife and children. A man who is constantly seeking wisdom and guidance as he prepares to set himself as the primary and one day sole provider for our family.

So, I thank you Lord. Thank you for leading me to a desert. A desert that would prove to be the most fertile ground for this heart of mine. Thank you, Lord, for the little things - a neighbor who heard I was sick and brought tea, soup, and bread without asking if they could; laughter with my husband; friends who gather for birthdays not out of obligation but because of the importance of community; for the overabundance of cats that roam our yard looking like lions ready to pounce. Thank you for my family and the one day growth of that family. Thank you Lord for my husband, words will never be enough to express my gratitude to you for choosing such a perfect match for me; I adore him. Thank you for the life you have grown from this desert. I look forward to what surprises you have in the future.

True Friends.

My best friend sent me a package today. She lives in Alberta, Canada knows how much I love journaling. About a month ago we were talking and I had filled up one journal and had not yet purchased another one. It was killing me at the time to not have anything to dump in, and being the amazing friend she is, she decided to purchase one for me (of course, unbeknownst to me).

While this journal was en route to me from the great north, I had already purchased one for myself. I have officially determined the Brenham postal service still uses horses to deliver mail because, seriously, 19 days to get from a neighboring country? ....I digress

This would be somewhat an uneventful happening to the world except for the nature of the journal I got in the mail.

The one I purchased is on the left. Kristen's purchase is on the right. I am thankful for friends who know me.