8:20:19

He will restore.

a promise I’ve been death gripping onto lately. pain is a part of this life, only fully remedied in Heaven, a sister of longing that also holds our hands during this brief expedition in these bodies before we go Home.

the road is so long though. He is entirely faithful, He promises to restore. but it’s still here. But so is He. swollen heart. so many battles. He is still kind through it all. do not despise discipline, but know it’s a sign of his love. Covetousness is deadly, it says so all over the Bible. pride is at the root of so many things, and the older I get the more I realize how much I do not know.

underside of anger

I’ve always been a little proud of being someone who doesn’t get angry often. it’s an emotion that isn’t in my emotional repertoire very frequently, it’s the emotion that probably scares me the most (along with apathy), and I never know what to do with it.

so I always thought it was a good thing, that I didn’t get angry often, and to an extent, I think it is.

then the other day I read a quote that said something along the lines of “it’s good to be angry about some thing’s, because if you’re angry about xyz not being right, it shows that you’re upset because you care deeply about it and want it to be right.”

that was the moment I realized my tendency to not fully invest in things in an attempt to protect from pain. I don’t get angry because I don’t let myself care that much about very many things. if you care a lot, you’re going to get really hurt. one hand back, one foot from being fully in, not going to all the things, closing down…for someone who gets praised for being open and vulnerable, I’m really not. I just tend to overshare fluff that doesn’t hurt.

I’ve felt more anger lately than I think I ever have in a short time period, and it’s weird. I don’t have a huge lesson or point here, I just thought that the underside of anger was interesting, and that I need to let myself invest and jump regardless of possible pain. it is not a life well lived that has its heart suffocated out of protection.

a year

Hard to believe it’s been over a year since last time I posted here. So much has happened.

Currently I’m in I think the hardest season I’ve ever had. God is gracious and kind, but it’s hard.

After some thought, I decided I’m going to be going on a social media hiatus starting sometime this week, because social media just hasn’t been healthy or helpful for me lately, and it’s been a struggle. I’ve never taken time longer than a month away from it, and I’m curious to see how I’d change and who I am without it. Which means that I may be posting here more frequently, we shall see.

Not a lot to say right now, I’ll write again soon.

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.

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,

no.

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

but

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.

yay.

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.

endings

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.

roles

you are

a

leader.

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.

and

i

am

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.

hosea

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.