simple words

And so there it was- in the strangest of places, in the middle of no where, completely unexpected. As is often the case. 

I had never been to this area before and I honestly only knew my general location; Tennessee. I was along for the ride run that weekend and this particular day was spent in the woods along a river and ultimately it led me here; Be love. So that's where I was.

In this particular season of my life, this word comes up often and sits in the front row with it's hand held up high. What is love exactly? Is it something you fall in? slip in? discover? uncover? run into? 

or be?

What I do know is this: love is patient, kind, does not envy, boast, or dishonor others- it is not self seeking, not easily angered, keeps no records of wrongs, and rejoices with truth- it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres and {because of what it is at all times}...it never fails. (1Cor. 13)

A few weeks previously I journaled these verses and mistakenly wrote:

allways protects, allways trusts, allways hopes, allways perseveres.

Duh but YES!

Love is at all times, in every way; 
an always, in all ways.

It's about BE-ing. 

How am I being love? Am I always, in all ways? 

What does that look like on a daily basis?

So I'm still wrestling with more questions than answers and I still don't feel sure of my exact location...but I'm hopeful about being found in the strangest of places, in the middle of the unexpected moments in life, with simple words~

   

always. all ways. 

Be love. 

White space.

Snow drizzles sideways and white blankets cover every nook and cranny. Little flakes of white magic floating through the air as cancellations begin flooding in. The calendar bursts wide open as cheers echo and fist bumps celebrate- the gift of white space suddenly surrounds, "Tuesday, February 09, 2016."

On these days, the trickling speed of snow changes time and heart rates. Snow days offer a Sabbath; rest that feeds hunger pains and hope that fills emptiness- manna from Heaven.

As snow continues to fall, pieces of His peace cover over, soak in, and saturate with love.

There is no earning it, no deserving it, 

no cleaning up to warrant it- 

there is only accepting it.

It's what our soul needs more than anything else today~ and it sticks to the surface of every open space. 

And for that which isn't?- He waits patiently. 
Can you sit with that for a bit?

For the marriage holding by a fraying thread- 
He is your strength for the weaving.
For the heart aching from brokenness- 
He is your healing words of you are mine.
For the anxiety paralyzing every question- 
He is your answer moving forward.
For those desperate for something- 
He is your missing piece Peace for the emptiness.
  

when He speaks

 

I was then, I am now; Creator.

I exhaled and dust took 

its first breath.

 Life began.

I still breath in you.

 

I moved my hand and a heart

had rhythm.

A soul formed.

I still move you.

I created your very existence 

fully dependent on me,

Abide in me, and I in you.

A sacred dance of your needs 

coupled in the hand of my provisions,
 I will lead you.
  
Be brave little one~
Breath of my breath,

rhythm of my heart.
 For wherever you are,

I am with you.

The weaving in

The empty boxes were ready to be filled, 

soon to bulge with ornaments, 
lights, garland and bows.

Traditions wrapped tightly and tucked away;

 another holiday season of precious memories 
sealed into the hearts of my favorite little people.
I look at the empty red boxes and it's almost 
as if magical pixie dust gets stored under the lids.
 Something that sprinkles change all over our 
perspective and priorities.
They don't know it yet,
but one day they will look back 
and it will be 
the little things.
Those gifts without wrapping paper or bows.


The couch that stayed pulled out into a bed
for 2 1/2 weeks, just so they could fall asleep
under the Christmas lights.
The ornaments that were hung together as a family of 5;

 an increasingly rare moment.  
The nightly Christmas movie with no concern for bedtime.
The jammie party with steaming hot cocoa.
The laughter. 

The Christmas coloring book 
that came to life with each new color.
  The conversations of a baby born in a manger;
 named Emmanuel~ God with us.
 

Madelyn and I begin separating hooks from ornaments,
reminiscing her favorite parts of the past month
and the houses with the best lights. 
She pauses and a quiet washes over her,
"I'm not ready to put Christmas away".

I put the bag of hooks down.

Christmas 2015 was different than the past several years.
This year I didn't want disappointment's

 to tuck back in with the garland and bows. 

No "what wasn'ts"
to wrap back up in bubble wrap 
along with fragile glass bulbs.

This year I felt the conviction back in November,
before the trees ever went up; 
 the weaving in will work the grieving out.   

It's what we do in therapy~
Change doesn't come
by simply removing something from our life.
Danger looms in the voids left unattended. 
Long term change requires something in it's place.
The weaving in.

And so it was for us.
A season of intentional gifts.
Love (as it's spelled) unwrapped one night at a T.I.M.E.
 The present of being present.

 This Christmas was truly special
and our lighted (but ornamentless) trees are still up, 
savoring it all for just a bit longer.
A tender reminder of what Light does in the darkest nights
when we accept the greatest gift~
Emmanuel; God {woven in} with us.

SingleTrack

**originally written 2+ years ago**
Life has recently resembled a circus act, for which I have unknowingly applied. Ever feel like someone played a mean joke on your juggling act and handed you medicine balls instead of those fun, colorfully lighted circus balls? #theyarefired.
Here’s a small glimpse:

• At the end of February I spent several days (and a few long nights) in a hospital room, snuggled up with my very sick little girl who had Influenza B.
• I’ve held my 14 year old, 100 lb Weimaraner (Brody) and buried my face in his as we took our very last breaths together. I thanked him for all the miles we ran together but more importantly, I thanked him for the protection he diligently provided; he was the “Brody guard”. The miles that day were not my favorite.
• I’ve stared at a computer screen in complete shock, lost for words or a place to start; it was just the beginning of heart breaking information.
• The increasing pressure of the last stretch of graduate school.
• First time Mother to a teenager (that speaks for itself, right?).

After almost 2 months of this kind of craziness I now feel like things could be settling down a bit (don’t tell Murphy!).

Given how things have been lately~ you know, the circus career and all, I’ve been craving trails. Particularly singletrack trails. There is something about running a narrow path that does this woman good.

If you’re directionally challenged, it’s a smart idea. If you’re new to the particular trail, it’s an error proof out ‘n back. If metaphors speak to you, it never disappoints. 

I run this particular trail fairly regularly and feel incredibly blessed to call this home. I’ve never witnessed it myself but it appears that the cows walk this path every day as they head back to the barn. If it isn’t the cows I can vouch that something is in fact using the trail; think.large.piles.of.evidence (I’m not claiming those monsters and you're welcome for sparing you the visual!). They make for good hurdle practice and I’m in need of anything that would help jumping through hoops appear more graceful. I digress.

Anyway…I love running singletracks.
I love the feel; desolate. I love the room; for one.
I love the whispers; come this way.

The beauty for me recently in the singletrack is it’s steadiness. Counteracting the position of ringleader requires a balance of a simple place. A place to unplug from the over-stimulation. No decisions. No surprises. No detours or flexibility required. Steady.

The singletrack is an antidote in unpredictability. It’s stable. It’s obvious. It helps me self-regulate in the midst of uncertainties.

**Jan 6, 2016**
As I read these words that I found hiding in my drafts file, particularly the last line, I am struck by the truth of them still today. In the past 2 years I’ve trained on Monte Sano mountain on a daily basis; it’s truly where I love to run! The technical trails, the rugged, rocky mountains…it’s where I belong as a runner. However, I’ve needed to come back to this trail for much of the same reason as before…it’s steadiness. 
This time the more literal sense.

Stead-y: ADJ.- Firmly fixed, supported, or balanced; 
not shaking or moving.
Firm in position or sure in movement. 
Calm or reliable; constant.

For these reasons listed in my old fashioned, paperback version of the Webster's Dictionary of the English Language, I am back to let this land do what it has always done; balance the unsteady life.