I'm RElocating

I have RElocated; it's simply time for new.

Follow me here: http://ashmitch8.blogspot.com/ 
 

we, our, us

I have been married for ten days now. Married.

It has been the best, most beautiful, beginning of my life so far.  Most days I wake up and think, is this real life? Somewhere between drinking coffee with, and packing a lunch for, my best friend I have to pinch myself.  Forever looks bright as peace settles in.  The waves have already begun to come, but it's we who ride them now and that changes everything.

I see differently already.  I hear differently.  The past few days God has been building a message in me, for my husband -- for our lives.  It feels bigger now that someone else is involved.  Suddenly the words I'm given, the dreams I have, the things I pray, the promises I'm given and the Truth I see affect us.  As my current reality sets in I shake my head and smile; it's both the most exhilarating and the scariest adventure I've ever agreed to.  It's our trajectory that I have a picture of now.  It's our future that I plan for, dream about and discuss.

Today I'm going to start a conversation that has my stomach bursting with butterflies.  It's one I've wanted to have for days, but a gentle voice echoed "wait" in my heart.  Eager, my prayers each hour have been ones of "when? now? how?".  Assured, the steady response "you'll know" kept coming to my mind. This morning, by 6am, all the pieces fell into place before I had even opened my eyes.  Prayers have been answered in a way I couldn't have predicted or anticipated.  I'm not sure what is to come.  I can't predict how ideas will be received or where things go from here.  I just know this is obedience.  God is up to something; and His something(s) are always Good.  What a sweet, sweet journey we're on.

My husband is on his way home.  Here's to courage enough for today.

displaced but not defeated

It only takes a drop of doubt to create a storm of fear and but a moment of submission to deceit to be overwhelmed.  It only takes a single false judgment to feel consumed by shame and a subtle poke at a wound to stir up a world of pain.

Somewhere between graduating college and stumbling into this transitory season I stopped fighting.  But about a week ago, in the middle of the night, somewhere between heavy tears and throwing punches to heaven I decided something had to change.

It only takes a mustard-seed of faith to move a mountain and a whispered "yes" for our Creator to come to our rescue.  It only takes a ray of light to scatter the darkness and a single breath of Truth to bring us back to Life.

Sometimes when I feel stuck in my current reality I flip through past journals, reminding myself of the unending faithfulness of God.  Like the disciples, I quickly forget to rest in God's promises and trust in His provision.  I do exactly the thing I most hope to avoid - I forget, I backslide, I revert.  But that's not the end of the story; I am a work in progress and it's high-time I let Humility bring me back to Grace, once more.  It's time some things die in me to make room for new life, again.

A year ago I sat in the Ethiopian sunshine meditating on Psalm 121:8 - "The LORD will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever".

I wrote:
"Overall the displacement I feel is not unexpected, but the peacefulness of reliance and dependence on God through it has been very rewarding.  I don't want to miss a moment that has been ordained for me here.  I want to walk through every open door in confidence that the God of this universe is constantly within and without of me.  I rest in a peace here that I don't yet understand, and honestly don't even need to.  Life looks different as I slow down and process each moment as it comes.

With fresh perspective, I anticipate radical refinement of my life.  Holding tight to promises and truth, I walk in expectation of more and better life - both for the people around me and for my own soul.  The journey of letting God show me who I am has hardly been this defined.  The expectations here are off.  No one is throwing guilt or shame on me.  I get lost in the freedom of relationships and overjoyed by removing limits and requirements.

Whatever this is that has begun to take root, I want it to stay and grow and live in me.  I hope it flows from my thoughts, actions and words; that through me a Kingdom-crave would be magnetic and contagious."

With no new words, I'll walk through and from conviction patiently.  I'll choose to put my faith, not in the God I think I want, but in the God who Is.

Don't stop fighting.

"home"

There are days that my head is buzzing and I'm left deciding what, if anything, is important enough to say.  Today is one of those days.  I am hesitantly entering this new season of transition as my tangled mind attempts to make sense of my somersaulting heart.

This morning about 20 friends and I walked to the beach to watch the sunrise.  We walked under a bridge that a man named Greg calls "home".  Silently we filed past the heap of fabric where he slept so as not to disturb his rest.  It made me realize that the past three years have transformed my concept of "home".

In the Spring of 2010, I moved to Chicago and into a dorm room on the 4th floor of Houghton at Moody Bible Institute, and let it slowly become "home". 

During the Summer of 2011, I lived in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  Initially I couldn't have felt more alienated, but it became "home" and it was one of the hardest places I've ever had to leave.

In the Fall of 2011, I became an RA and joined the 10th floor of Houghton.  I experienced the fastest transition to "family" I ever have.

These years have been seemingly lived out of a suitcase; all my memories are kept between the book-ends of transitions.  I'm learning that, this side of Heaven, all ground is temporary.  "Home" isn't about the walls we build, it's about the ones we tear down.  It isn't necessarily about the physical place in which we exist, but the people we do life with.  It's less about the "where" and more about the "who" that we are becoming and the "who" that is around us.  The only constant is that of the foundation of Christ.  The only unchanging One is God.  For everything, and everyone, else there are seasons and times - beginnings and ends - and that's okay.  

I pray that we always learn to tap into contentment and joy no matter where we find ourselves; that we keep our treasures in heaven and make "home" in The solid Rock instead of shifting sands.  Lets seek the wisdom to know where to put down our roots, and the courage to open our hearts and doors to those around us.

Engagement

I'm getting married.  I'm getting married.  I'm getting married.

That impending reality sinks slowly as I sigh through my smile.  I've never been the smitten-type, but my world was lifted from the ground on March 23rd and it is still descending. 

If you know my story, and our story, you might be shaking your head in slight amusement.  You might find yourself wanting to question "Didn't you see this coming?" or exclaim, with a smirk, that you "called it years ago".  But for me, the moment Jared's knee went down, the flood gates opened.

It's not that I didn't expect it to ever come and it's not that I hadn't already made up my mind that I was going to spend the rest of my life with this wonderful man.  In fact if it weren't for the two hands that somehow made their way up to cover my mouth, and the fact that the only thing I seemed to be able to move were the joyful tears from my eyes, I might've shrieked "YES" before he even finished a sentence. 

I wasn't expecting the tornado of chaos and peace that began to twirl.  In a fierce attempt to guard my heart I had never long-entertained the idea that this could be my reality.  I didn't anticipate the freedom and assurance that immediately took root.  And those things arrived to stay, at least for now.

I have a friend here at Moody whose summer is filled with friends weddings and many of her friends are "brides" in her mind and world.  Recently we were chatting about what that meant for her and her response took me by surprise: "I am encouraged by you", she said, "You're such a peaceful bride".  Another friend from home suggested they hadn't ever known me to be this restful.

Quickly I am realizing this journey is more than just a climax in a fairytale with my highschool sweetheart.  I'm found in a season of endings and beginnings.  I'm in steadfast battle and in constant process with all that is building.  My world is turning, and I'm happily along for the ride.

Nineveh

I love reading (and hearing) narratives from the Old Testament.  I've been studying Jonah a bit lately and I could have never predicted how ready my heart was to wrestle with this story, how soft my mind was to receive conviction and how hungry my soul was to apply it.

I can't help but think about the concept of a modern day Nineveh.

It's the place we don't want to go; the people we'd rather not see; the time we don't want to spend with the things we'd rather not be.

It's the hard conversation and the uncomfortable situation; it's uncharted territory and unguaranteed circumstances. 

It's where scary statistics become real stories and faces; there's no promised welcome or reception... in fact, if anything, there's threat.

Then God says "GO".

We say "NO".

He won't know; He won't care; I won't go; I'm scared.
It's one time; I'm one person; It's one place, or just one nation.
What's the big deal?

What's the big deal?  Jonah brought a life-threatening storm upon a boat full of innocent men; then he was tossed overboard and swallowed by a large fish because he thought he could run from Nineveh!  Disobedience is costly.  God is concerned about every fiber of our being, every breath in every waking moment, every thought to cross our minds and every word to cross our lips.  He cares for the nations and for individuals, even the difficult and scary ones.  He is always hopeful, always faithful, always loving. 

I need more of Him and less of me.

#goodness

This week I sit purely immersed in the reality that I am - and have been - truly and deeply blessed.  Far beyond my deserving I have received good gifts, both tangible and intangible, from a Father who knows, sees and attends to my every need.

Tuesday was my 22nd birthday.  It was a day in which I took each stride with gratitude; unable to even comprehend the love and grace that I am constantly given.  I felt extremely special and intentionally loved.  I both laughed and cried with joy in the midst of precious moments with, and from, beloved people in my life.

In such celebration, I am reminded of just how intently people are watching me.  I am challenged, once again, to live above reproach and walk along paths of righteousness.  Being my own worst enemy, it is easy to dwell on the things that still need growth and change in me.  Yet the words that flooded my ears and filled the pages my eyes crossed this week were of sincere encouragement. 

The Lord seemed to pointedly use those around me to remind me of who I am becoming in Him; and that the becoming part is not only perfectly okay, but His very intention.  The truth of 2 Corinthians 3:18 came alive to me once more.  I see, more clearly, how far He has brought me and that He isn't yet finished.

I celebrate another year of life with eager anticipation of what's to come and a strong acknowledgement of where I have come from.  At a junction in which I expected to feel fear, I am embracing a Spirit of power, love and self-discipline.  I have learned the immensity to which I am dependant, and called to live in humility beyond humiliation or shame.  I confidently walk into a new season; not because of who I am, but because of who He is and what He has done.

In 4 Months I Graduate From College?

I have places where I go when I just need to be.  In every city I've lived in so far, I have unintentionally built landmark-alters of remembrance.  These are places I go to wrestle with life, have a good cry or just talk to God.  In Eau Claire it was a specific bridge downtown.  I would pace, or sit, or even lie down there during the messy times of life.  In Minneapolis it was Loring Park.  There is a little flower garden there with benches that seemed to invite me to fall apart.  I can't tell you, yet, where I go in Chicago except for that this season it has been a transformed place.  The first tears I cried there, this semester, were happy ones.

I write this to reflect on the fact that this is my final semester at Moody and in Chicago.  I write to admit that I never could have anticipated falling in love with this place like I have.  Experiences, circumstances and people here have changed me.  I sigh, knowing that I've begun to "grow up" in a place that has been both a safe battleground and a solid foundation.

I look ahead to this semester differently, with a new twinkle in my eyes and heart.  During my first trip to Chicago in November of 2009, I hurriedly scrambled for my camera when I saw the first "Chicago" exit sign and snapped this blurry picture:

I now look at it knowing it perfectly captured the essence of an unpredictable journey.  Not much has been in focus, but the excitement is evident again.  That same 'this is going to be good' feeling in my gut has returned.  If this is really the last year of the world, I guess I'm going out on a high!

Romans Twelve

On June 30th, 2011 I wrote:

...Today at the home-visit I found myself wanting to judge and assess needs for myself instead of listening with a sensitive spirit of discernment.  Meran (a beautiful 22year-old Ethiopian woman, pictured below) was so patient and willing.  I thank God that He is breaking me of selfishness through these people.  I want to continue to learn to serve and see through a lens of forgiveness and mercy.  I want to give because I've been given to; love because I'm loved...

People aren't projects or formulas.  We are intricately woven, uniquely wired and continually being taken from one level of glory to the next.  This redefinition of my perception of people that began this summer has really become a posture of mine. 

Most people I encounter, mark me; they leave a stamp on my soul or take a piece of my heart.  But it's different when I don't feel responsible to fix them.  Suddenly that ache to 'make it better' melts into a practicing of weeping and rejoicing as those around me weep and rejoice - (and everything in between).  Freedom! 

Ethiopia continues to change and grow me.  Being an RA has been another one of the best and maturing experiences of my life.  I can't help but shake my head at the undeserved blessings I walk in daily.

there is no "me" in control

It was recently proposed to me that the idea of sleep, and it's necessity, should remind us that we're not God.  I need a near daily shut-down time; a physical break from reality.  God doesn't.

One of my professors pointed out that "people have a need to be in control of their own lives...and they have a need to know that God approves of that idea".

What a sticky thing to admit to.  Yet, guilty is my plea.

I like to think that I am in control, or have control, or at least have access to control.  This is detrimental from the ground, up.  I suddenly take on responsibility where I wasn't intended to.  I sacrifice self-control as a discipline and replace it with feigned control of my, and others', circumstances.

But God (one of my favorite biblically-used transitions) knows me.

It took but one sunrise (which is what these photos are from: one of the glorious fall Lake Michigan Sunrises I've experienced) to get my attention and challenge my perspective again.

You feel pretty small standing on the edge of the water, watching the sun climb up the sky and burst from the clouds.  I begin to take myself a little less seriously as I realize how deeply I have fooled myself into thinking I wanted control.

In spontaneous freedom I am reminded that I am not responsible for any one's happiness; my job is to glorify God (period).  I am not in control of his/her well-being.

Where that once made me feel uncomfortable, I now find curiosity in learning passive obedience.  I have begun to recognize my insecurities and reassess the places to which I have attached my worth.

I am back on my 'toes', eager to learn to live in hope instead of dreaming of control. 

I spin a lot of plates, and sometimes it seems that I am able to do it quite well.  But it's time for some better life-managing.

There is an innocent freedom found in simply waking up and realizing, once again, that I was sleeping (because I am not God).  I was never intended or wired to be in ultimate control.

As I move beyond recognition and into implication(s), I know there will be opposition.  So I place one foot in front of the other with sword in hand: "As for me, may I never boast about anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Because of that cross, because of Him, my interest in this world has been crucified, and the world's interest in me has also died" (Galatians 6:14).

And I promise to keep rambling on here as I go.

okay to not be okay

Pain. I keep coming back to this idea.  It's not an idea really, it's an emotion; well, not even an emotion -- a reality.  It's a state of being.  Though usually temporary, it is nearly always personified.  It is typically not sought out; rather, it happens to us, in us, around us.  I used to avoid it at all cost.  If it presented itself predictably, I ran, hid or flat-out denied its existence or affects.  Now?  I've grown quite fond of pain.

Even to my ears that sounds purely twisted.  Fond of pain?  Maybe it would be better stated that: I have grown to appreciate what it is and does in my life (and our world).  Pain keeps us aware of our humanity, morality and vitality.  It challenges us, usually pointedly acknowledging that somewhere within us we have an understanding that we lack a 'shalom' we were created for.  There is an uncomfortable sting that something is not what it is supposed to be -- that tension hurts.  It awakens us to our senses.  It changes us.

Today I heard the story of a 14yr old boy in a detention center in Chicago.  He's there for selling drugs.  His mom got laid off last fall and he has never known a dad.  He's got a baby sister and the three of them lived in an apartment on the west side.  His mom couldn't find work.  His sister cried herself to sleep hungry, and eviction was only a matter of weeks away.  He understood the need for money.  He held his crying sister, terrified of what life would look like on the cold streets, and did the only thing he thought he could: sell to survive.

Pain.  It settled in on me.  That this-isn't-how-it's-supposed-to-be feeling created an unmistakable twinge in my heart and mind.  With wet eyes, I began to smile; acknowledging the collision of Kingdom-ache and supernatural-joy.  Pain was changing me in that moment.  I am not the same because of one story, one circumstance that brought about the weight of a reality I can't ignore.  Pain alerts us to the fact that something isn't right; something is worth giving attention to.

Pain: I still may not seek it, but I welcome it.

Metaphorical Bridges to Ethiopia

I was reading through some of my journal from my time in Ethiopia and stopped to resonate on an entry that I have been living out in a new context.

On June 17th I wrote:

I felt as though the God in me was truly needed in that time and place.  Though tension rang through my mind and heart, there was a peace in my soul.

I sigh because often I make things so complicated.  We make things more difficult than they need to be.  People need to be loved, to be truly seen.  People are dying to be heard and they don't need answers, but a God that is big enough to be Comfort and Grace and Mercy right in the middle of their chaos. 

People need to be reminded that they can.  They want to taste and see living hope.  In response, I want to live magnetically.  I want to live radically different but not out of guilt or in shame.  I want my life to look different because of love, because of selflessness.  I always want to life in awareness of my purpose and worth so that others, too, might see and know theirs.

If you want to see change, expect to be changed.

Previously, I couldn't name or pinpoint the reason I felt prepared for this season.  It's been a beautiful thing to be in another position that invites me, daily, to fight for (and with) people.  Here's to continually learning to love well...

at the top again

The chaos of a new season of life has a way of sweeping me off my feet.  It's not necessarily a frenzy of commotion, but sometimes the rhythmic waves of responsibility (the things I have to do) and sanity (the things I want to do) -- or where the two overlap... an unusually common occurrence in this season of my life.

*time to pause* *time to reflect*

I'm found at the beginning of an end, and believe me when I say that the sentimental moments of reflection have already begun.  Moody has been, and is, such a good chapter for me.  I wasn't expecting the wealth of emotion that this year has spurred, but I've been welcoming it. 

I feel weirdly alive and in a state of anticipation.  I want to "leave it all on the floor" this year.  I'm putting on my metaphorical waders, because reality is already knee-deep but I just need more.

As RAs we get to set a floor theme for the year.  I chose Psalm 142:7...

“Bring my soul out of prison,

So that I may give thanks to Your name;

The righteous will surround me,

For You will deal bountifully with me.”

It has become my anthem in all this, chaos and otherwise.

small changes from a Big God

So it's been a while...




*Insert happily-overwhelmed sigh here*

I've found myself in a bit of a whirlwind. I have arrived at the beginning of my senior year at Moody, just plain ready. I'm very much left in transition from a summer that included almost seven weeks in Ethiopia, and a plethora of other scattered events. (The Ethiopia stories will leak out on here sporadically, so be patient :), and stay tuned.) I've been in Chicago for a little over a week now, preparing to be an RA for the year. The new students are arriving today and I couldn't be more thrilled. The learning and growing has already begun for the semester and I'm eager for even the chaos ahead.



Pausing for coffee has become one of my more guarded practices over the past few months. This stems partially from my own selfishness and love of coffee, but is also perhaps a rubbing-off of Ethiopian culture. None-the-less it's a beautiful reality that I look forward to and enjoy regularly.

Along with that this semester, I've decided to include reading a chunk of the gospel(s) to my daily routine... a result of a summer that stretched me on all levels. Honestly, I just felt like I was gently being taught that God is Bigger, in all areas of life.

My last week in Ethiopia I was reading in the book of Mark. In chapter 6, Jesus feeds 5,000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish. Then, in chapter 8, the disciples ask: "...How are we supposed to find enough food...?" (Mark 8:4). I literally laughed out loud in reading this. Jesus must have been thinking: 'Seriously, that whole miraculous-feeding-5,000-people-with-one-meal thing I did didn't convince you I'm bigger than the food thing? Faith, people, have faith.'

Once I was finished laughing and judging the disciples, I felt a little twinge in my conscious. I do this all the time. Now I'm blessed enough that it's never been about food, but I sometimes have irrational fear about things that God has already proved himself bigger than. I'm prone to quickly forgetting or unintentionally over-looking the truths and promises I've found.

Because I know this about myself, it's time to weed out excuses. I'm going to soak in who Christ is everyday... even if it's just a small piece. I'm going to remind myself of what He did and does, reconciling my worldview accordingly. It's my hope to become more like Him: more like the Ashley God created me to be. Therefore, you can expect to hear more about coffee and Christ.

abstract ramblings

I find myself juxtaposed.

With a pomegranate-green tea on my right and a stack of un-graded papers strewn about the floor-space around my feet, I can't help but smile. Beautiful chaos. This week has been absolutely crazy. I've slept a little and laughed a lot.

"You're a whirlwind of unapolagetic stubborn confidence and unmistakable joy".
I am? I laugh, (again, I'm telling you I've laughed a lot).

I didn't see this coming; I didn't expect this from myself. Then, a still small voice reminds me that it's not from myself. *Insert sigh of agreement here*.

Each morning this week I slowly opened my eyes with the sound of my alarm, expecting to feel the weight of the invisible 2ton truck that used to hit me right about now. No, Nope, No, No, No... It never comes. It's been rerouted, unloaded or all together replaced. Hallelujah!

I can't begin to type the things I've completed this week because you'd all be intimidated and think I was boasting. Haha, subtly I think that sentance did the boasting for me anyway. And I'm not about to type a list of the things I've left to do this weekend & week, because I don't even want to go there right now.

Catching my breath and clearing my mind I'm found content. Somewhere between then and now, I've found peace, hope and joy beyond reason. With no good or rational answer, I look up to the sky and say "You're beautiful".

So much behind me, so much around me, so much in front of me and all in Love. Fear in one thing and one thing alone: the One who holds the stars and my heart, the same.

He created and creates; I too am creating



Romans 8:38-39
"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

an unlikely defendant

My plea:
I'm a walking, undeserving mess.

The Sentence*:
Therefore, having been justified by faith,
You have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ,
through whom also you have obtained your introduction by faith
into this grace in which you stand;
and you exult in hope of the glory of God.

And not only this, but you also exult in our tribulations,
knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance;

and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope;

and hope does not disappoint,
because the love of God has been poured out
within your heart
through the Holy Spirit who was given to you.

For while you were still helpless,
at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.

For one will hardly die for a righteous man;
though perhaps for the good man someone would dare even to die.

But God demonstrates His own love toward you,
in that while you were yet a sinner, Christ died for you.

Much more then,
having now been justified by His blood,
you shall be saved from the wrath of God through Him.

For if while you were an enemy
you were reconciled to God through the death of His Son,
much more, having been reconciled,
you shall be saved by His life.

And not only this,
but you also exult in God through our Lord Jesus Christ,
through whom you have now received the reconciliation.



*Romans 5 | Interpretation & Application

reNEWal

YOU make me new


YOU are making me new


YOU make me new


YOU are making me new





You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us


all around / life is springing up from this old ground


out of chaos life is being found in YOU

For Your Viewing Pleasure

You are welcome :).

HelloGoodbye, and I don't mean the band

This season of life is controlled chaos. In a matter of twelve months I will have spent time in Illinois, Wisconsin, Texas, Minnesota and Ethiopia. I have taken the liberty of titling this chapter: life from a suitcase.

If it has taught me anything about myself, it’s that:
I love arriving, but I hate leaving.

I find joy in looking forward. I like for things to change and shift; I thrive in the new and different. This has worked to my benefit as I've kept pace with a number of opportunities.

I can become almost obsessive with what's next, however. I was recently telling a friend that being an RA means I am obligated to return in the fall. And then I laughed. I love it here, I seriously do. For the first time in a while I feel as though I really belong. But I wouldn't put it past my adventure-craving self to want something new: which I do realize would be incredibly irresponsible and irrational. I share this just to admit how deeply unsettled I tend to be.

This itch to continually start new seasons in my life, however, doesn't exist without irony. I have a really hard time leaving. Once I'm "there", I'm off and running. The transition period itself, on the other hand, is my weak point. I'm not so good at 'goodbye'. Honestly, it's not such a big deal or problem in and of itself. But this semester, I've realized it's deeper than my circumstances. It's a condition of my heart.

There are circumstances, dreams, thoughts, attitudes and relationships of my life that are changing and being made new. This is what I want[ed], hope[d] and pray[ed] for. Yet here I am, throwing a fit in the transition; because leaving the old is hard, uncomfortable and scary.

I am learning what it looks like to live out Philippians 2:13, "For it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure".
Another translation reads: "For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him".

Take heart, take hope.

editing.

I love to edit.

Earlier in the semester I had written about the fact that one of my favorite classes was likely to be Research Writing; I was correct. I have loved learning to write and re-write.

Editing has also been a big part of my internship this semester. I get to edit scholarship and application essays for city students. Friends have also taken me up on the offer as I refine, learn and love to be creative with words.

This week, however, I have been reminded of my undeniable humanity.

You see, the more experience I have in editing the more able I feel. Unintentionally I have taken it to parts of my life for which it wasn't intended. More than words on a page, I try to edit my story. The Author writes a perfect and complete sentence; but I'm just sure that I could do better, and out comes the red pen.

Darn you, red pen.

I was not created to be the editor or perfecter of my life. When I try to, a lot of red ink just gets everywhere and things look a little ridiculous... there's not enough white-out in the Midwest to cover my good intentions.

I edit out a circumstance here and insert a relationship there. I cross out an event or conversation here and insert something selfish there.

No wonder I just want to turn the page.

Instead, I'll put down the pen and hold my crayons again. My attention is re-captured. In stillness I'll seek in joy and humility. Already there's freedom in unforced and uncontrolled rhythm. Just one taste has unconvered my apparent hunger.




"Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:1-2).