life goals

“what are your life goals?”

well, what’s actually going to last? what will carry over after death? what’s the best thing in the big picture? what goes beyond these few years I’ve been given here?

the only thing that carries over is how much you loved God and His people.

I want to get good at that.

I’m still figuring out what that looks like,

but that’s my goal.



who am i?

who am i?

who am i?

who am i?

question like a panic

sifting shifting sand

so many faces i could be

life is too short

how do i figure out which is



it’s not about me.

it’s not about me.

it’s not about me.

it’s about You.

who are You?

You are indescribable

You are glorious

You are so grand and i am unable to pin you down or box you up with mere language.

i want to know You.

i want to breathe You.

i want to dance for You.

i want to live like You

love like You

drench myself in You

shine for You, in You, for You

i want to dive into You and learn as much as i can about every aspect

how do i become like You?

not through my meager footsteps, although You made them, and You help me walk.

You created me to worship You, in so many different ways, with all of my being; physical, spiritual, mental, for all of my days.

by You living in me and drawing me close to You

delight my heart with what delights Yours

show me things that are good, help me see.

I want more, i’m asking, knocking, seeking,

i know You see me.

thank you.

four letters

when I was younger

I thought, without realizing it,

that love was basically controlling, invasive, obsessive, fearful.

I would’ve never flat out used those words,

but I acted like that, and thought

that I had to know the person inside and out, and they likewise with me.

that we had to agree about everything and I had to mold myself to them to best help

when in reality, knowing who I am and standing in that is honesty and the best way to help.

I thought

unless we were talking all the time it wasn’t real, and I was scared they would leave


not like me for me.

so I hid myself.


there is no fear in real love.

I’m a little older, I’d like to think a little smarter

and the meaning of love has changed for me.

love feels like a sweater that you can wear comfortably,

it sees your tears and your quirks and your laughter, and loves.

it is a two way street, with reciprocity.

it doesn’t have to mean complete agreement; the differences often mean greater learning opportunities and adventures.

it is intimate,

and sometimes that grows slowly, like a tree.

it is calm but it can be intense, peacefulness does not mean a lack of depth or emotion.

it is butterflies but also assurance, not hiding yourself but stepping out in confidence,

clearing your throat with honesty.

it is sweet but wild,

playful but facing the battlefield shoulder to shoulder,

open between the two of you,

eyes fixed on Him.

that’s the phrase I keep on coming back to in all of my thoughts; if I want to be like Him,

love like Him,

serve like Him,

talk like Him,

have peace like Him,

help my darling like Him,

I have to keep my eyes on Him and see Him.

study Him, the way I study people.

not in the hope that once I’m “godly enough” He’ll give me my person, but just out of delight in Him.

and it’s amazing.

we can talk to the creator and epitome of Love.

envy train

my nonbiological sister is doing well

looking well

smashing her goals

getting closer to her Savior

worshiping from her heart

dancing to glorify him

getting compliments

being praised

getting things i have wanted

being blessed….

and i feel my heart resenting it.

slithering ugly envy dragging its fingers through my heart

but i don’t have time for that.

because looking at her with a spirit of comparison,

is taking my eyes off of my savior.

of what His plans hold for ME

my time on this earth is the briefest breath

and i don’t have time to compare my life to hers

to want what she has

to be who she is

when there is a wonderful plan laid out for my life,

full of blessings and traits He has designed for me,

we’re on the same team, so why should i be tearing down my sister?

her victories do not mean my defeat,

her worth and growth does not negate my own

i do not have time for this envy game,

this tear down train,

this feeling of shame that i’m not all that she is, listening to lies that i have to be able to measure up to the standard she’s been given in order to be loved and different,


when i see my sister doing well, living well, crushing her goals, walking closely with her Savior,

i will cheer for her, cry with her, walk with her, admire her, praise with her,

but i will not be bitter. i will not resent her over the petty stupid facts that i do not

look like her,

walk like her,

get attention like her,

worship like her

speak like her.

because i’m not made to be her.

i will not take my eyes from my savior and His plan for me to spend it in envy over what He is doing in one of His other beautiful creations.

i will not side-eye my sibling to see if she’s “ahead” of me, i will link my arm with hers and help her walk to the best of my ability to Him and His glory,

whether she knows about it or not.


social anxiety

social anxiety screeches loud

nervousness and confusion sit down to have drinks together


end up erratically tap dancing from

my heart to my brain.

on and on and on never stopping

noticing every little detail but skewing others’ social cues.

talk louder? good idea.

gesture expressively, giggle a ton?

man, you’re good at suggestions.

everyone is quiet and look awkward, sometimes making them laugh works.

wait, who is this?

why is she rambling?

why is she so loud?

why is her heart trembling and eyes never focusing?

why is her breath shallow and she’s startling easily and projecting larger and her pitch is higher and movements sharper and skin feeling like a cold wet towel?

self deprecating humor?

what happened to her nurturing?

her confidence?

her sarcasm?

her quiet eyes?

oh, hi social anxiety.


fight or flight, uncomfortable awkward “buddy” that doesn’t leave until resolution happens, releasing the steam that builds up internally until everything is darting around inside and not sitting still long enough to look at and categorize it.

bouncey balls in a high cycle washing machine.

ask Him to show you who you are, who He is.

bigger picture.

it all slows down, peace ascends, kicks anxiety out from behind the wheel

people pleasing never pays, embrace the unique mold He made just for you.

praise him. 💗


social anxiety is something that I have struggled with, but never fully identified, and also gave too much power.

i think most people think that when social anxiety is present, you get quiet, and that is true; a lot of people get cold and quiet.

but for me it was the opposite, I get louder and project more to try and cover up the awkwardness and nervousness I felt, and that’s not me.

however, you can overcome social anxiety. personally, that meant asking God to show me who He is, who I am, who He’s making me to be, is anxiety a part of me?

no, anxiety has no place in His creation, and He takes it away.


isn’t it weird to think about death?

that one day your siblings and friends and parents and you won’t be here?

and they won’t just be across the country, on a trip for awhile,

they’ll be on the next and eternal chapter of this story.

someday i won’t be updating this blog anymore with my personal arrangement of these twenty six letters.

there are better things farther up and further in, and i’m excited and craving that future. but it’s still odd to think about, that we shall each someday leave these temple shells we’re in.


you are



red opinions and bold voice

classy lines, smirk, stiletto heels.

standing behind your beliefs unflinching and unapologetic, bringing your arguments and convincing, bold and beautiful, getting things done. completely capital.

passionate, abounding, paving new ways and being that voice, structure and day planners and math homework.

laughing with family, always having those words to say to others, deep eyes.

precise measurements, a glorious sunset that turns the sky red, bonfires raging, neon lights and lipstick stains.

and i admire you.




a healer.

green and feet down grounded

soft light eyes that see you and your emotions, helping you untangle the threads of what you’re feeling. strong arms, gentle hands, crying hugs, smoothing those physical and emotional knots with honesty and sensitive fingers.

i am

bare feet, watching a purple sunset from a tree, drinking tea on the counter, running through the woods, very mixed up playlists.

most comfortable when i’m around emotion, i don’t have enough words. quietly watching, yet ebullient, little bit of a paradox, huge fuzzy blankets and journals everywhere.

scattering ingredients for anything all over the place, but it connects back in the end because there’s a method to my madness and an order to my chaos, and i throw my pens and paper and paint and salt and flour and other components all over the place to make art while i make art.

i am flow of consciousness poetry and puns and open mouthed laughs, you are wit and argument and raised eyebrow sass.

i am citrus and cinnamon smells and pink words, and you are crimson and leather and pepper.

and you, intrigue me.

i’m glad we’re both on this earth with our differences.



i stood, confused

staring at my hands,

looking up, wind blowing.

“Abba, you’ve given me a gift, but what am i supposed to do with it?

i can feel, you’ve given me access to the depth of emotions. i’m able to feel mine deeply, to pick up on other peoples emotions, to categorize and to empathize, to see hidden things, and also to set mine below others eyes.

you’ve given me eyes that get tear pricked easily, a hope in the heart, a brain that can sort out emotions to know what we’re feeling and where they should go.

you’ve given me creative outlets, nurturing outlets. dance, massage, writing, family, friends.

but who am i and what am i supposed to do with this?”

He led me “out into the wilderness to speak words of comfort”

where i thought i was alone, not knowing where to grow, He was there.

he whispers to me

my identity is not in me, in who i am, in what i can do, in my uniqueness, in competition, in emotion, in winning, in art.

those things can be taken away, i lean on them and they melt

i lean on Him and i’m made stronger through Him.

i’m to lift eyes up to Him when emotions are billowing. He’s given me fireproof gloves to handle feelings, both mine and others, showing me how to reshape them to look to Him,

this is who i am in Him, and He is growing me.

a struggle

this post is a struggle.

I sat at this keyboard for while, typing and erasing, before sending that sentence out.

then that one. how to say it? my translator is struggling.

these past few weeks have been a lot of learning, a lot of discouragement, a lot of insecurity, a lot of inward shaking and navigating.

coming again and again to talk to God

asking questions, giving thanks, receiving His words.

struggles from the past resurfacing, and struggles that have never made an entrance before, tap-dancing their way across my heart.

we are called to carry each other’s burdens, but we’re also called to carry our own burdens, to not bring up or talk about things at times.

‘a wise man restrains his feelings, a fool vents them’.

to be quite frank, I’m learning how to talk again. I’m learning what to say, what not to say, to listen to His prompting on if I should share xyz or not.

there is no fear in love. let all that you do be done in love. doing it all in love leaves no room for fear.

the comparison game is back, I am not her, or her, or her or her or her. God has made us differently, and praise Him for that. Abba, remove my envy and help me rejoice in the good that happens to others, always.

it’s always weird writing about struggles here. it’s humbling, even though the people who know me probably have already seen my struggles. I know that I have read other people’s struggles online, and if anything, liked them even more for their honesty. learning to loose the masks I wear.

when I was a kiddo, we used to listen to the audio drama pineapple stories, and I remember once the speaker said that often times your strengths are the flip side of your weaknesses. he was known for being stingy until God asked him to start giving, and he found immense joy in his giving.

I’m good at celebrating with people, but I also envy.

I can serve and work hard, but selfishness has a root.

I could go on about my faults, but I’m not supposed to.

what floors me? is that coming to God with repentance and heavy heart, knowing that I’ve fallen, and what does He do?

He tells me how proud He is of me, for the meager obedience that I had done.

burning wet eyes, light heart.

just go to God and sit in His presence, walk in and just stare at Him for while.

He has the sweetest, wildest voice.

january/bits of february messy journal

little excerpt stories


1•7•18 – hebrews 12 v. 1: let go of every wound that has pierced us and the sin we so easily fall into.

v. 12: so be made strong even in your weakness by lifting up your tired hands in




and strengthen your weak knees

1•9•18- yesterday was Tom’s 18th birthday, and the day that I got the text that Hannah was in an accident and airlifted to Harborview.

1•10•18- she’s looking better than I expected, prayers everywhere. still odd and sad to see, yet I feel hopeful. emotional pillaring.

1•11•18- 2:21am

is this what anxiety is? if it is, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced it before. massage calms it down a bit. finding mental relief in physical action. too much heart noise. weird physical heart pain.

1•11•18- rooty tooty juicy and fruity

1•16•18- she twisted her hair into a bun all by herself!!

1•17•18- listen for God’s voice in everything that you do, everywhere you go; He’s the one who will keep you on track. don’t try to figure it all out on your own.

proverbs 3:5

1•18•18- weird marker pen, lots of mbti talk at the hospital

1•19•18- 3:24am

good talks, little smiles from her. JJ Heller.

1•22•18- walks and talks and honesty

1•23•18- things that should be more popular and widely incorporated than they are:

-honest compliments

-gracious honesty

1•23•18- thank You for teaching us what we need to learn at just the right time. thank You for creating us to be worshippers.

1•24•18- A MOMENT

dark purple/navy Monroe sky,

just worked on mr. plancich,

my heart wasn’t worried

my music was up loud and I could see stars.

it was good.

1•25•18- but we have this power in earthen vessels [us. So the credit can not be attributed to us at all. it’s all Him.], that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us.

2 Corinthians 4:7


let go.

Eric just called me an odd bird a minute ago for writing in the dark. I said the sooner we establish that the better off we’ll be, and he laughed a little.


– Tom and meh

1•28•18- I wanna be every aesthetic.

1•31•18- He said, “would you?”

2•1•18- we die in order to live “Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living” -jim Elliot 2•2•18- the wind grabs smoke and whisks her all around 2•3•18- some flowers bloom slower than others

2•10•18- I’m scared to say anything now.

this physical husk I have

is just for a time.

those who have “died”

are in fact

more alive than I.

2•14•18- made a red velvet cake. discovered I’m allergic to red food coloring.

2•17•18- forever a fan of others drawing in my journal.

ask for hunger.

moody blue clouds with flirtatious pink billows in the sunset today.

2•18•18- funny how it all feels a life time ago.