sunshine

But what happens when the sunshine is sad?

Whiplash emotion

bites like a dog

sharp fangs

pierce smoothly

sink deep

heart ache.

things that I processed

rising again

like a grotesque Phoenix

flying black from the ash

of the emotional book yard where I lay

my past.

don’t say ‘it’s fine’ when it’s not

not in the moment

not in the future

not in the past

and I’m just preaching to myself here

knowing that it’s ok to feel

to feel intensely

to not let it show

to write it out

or to let it show

it’s ok.

you don’t just have to feel happy emotions

you can still feel grief and regret and hurt and off and sadness hangovers.

you don’t have to be the sunshine and the happy and the child’s heart all the time.

the emotions aren’t negative per se,

they’re learning

and they’re teaching

and they’re real

and they’re raw.

burn yourself and have the scar to remind you not to do it again

carve it into paper with your pen to read in the someday and remember and grieve and lay it down again.

that moment when numbness breaks and it hits you

it’s ok to get it out and express.

the sunshine can be sad sometimes too.

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right now

Right now

in my life 


I am working at one of my dream jobs, a beautiful massage studio, and another nannying job with the sweetest family. 

I changed my hair from bronde to auburn and am loving it, it feels more natural than any other color I’ve tried. 

I am wearing gold jewelry instead of the silver that I’ve worn for years. 

I’ve learned I’m not the skin tone I thought I was (I’m bad at that type of thing) and so have been playing with color a lot. 

I am not in a relationship, as after much prayer and thought, I ended my relationship with Nick in September.  I don’t really have any words to say to the internet about it right now, maybe someday I’ll explain more. 

I’m physically the strongest I’ve ever been. 

I’m almost at the most flexible I’ve ever been. When I vaulted I was bendier, but I’m almost at where I was. 

I’m closer to God than I’ve ever been. He is beautiful and I’m so grateful. 

I’m learning how He wants me to view Him, myself, and others. How we all work together for Him. 

I’m learning what He wants me to do in this season of my life. Honestly, right where I’m at right now is one of the happiest seasons I’ve ever been in, because of so many different things. 

I’m listening to the rain fall as I journal and blog while sitting on my pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, with soft lamp glow and the heater going. 

He is wholly good. Always. Life is good. 

The Purpose Here

Purpose.

That word is on my mind a lot.

In pretty much anything I do, I’m continually asking, “what’s the purpose here? Why am I doing this? Why am I here?”

I’m learning that is a thing that INFPs have in big ways. Because of our cognitive function line ups, we function by authenticity. We want to have a reason, to make a difference, to have things line up with our “moral compasses” as they’ve been called. To make sure we’re being ourselves in what we do.

If it doesn’t line up, or has no purpose, we aren’t as invested in it. I need a goal to work toward. Sometime the reason I’m doing something is just to make the space more clean. Sometimes it’s to use my hands to bless someone. Sometimes it’s to do something in worship to God, even though I don’t want to and am struggling, but do it anyways.

And the purpose of this blog? It’s like my journal, but online, and written in farrrr less than I do my notebooks. It’s less of a formal writing space, and more of a place to jot down my rambles, in a much longer way than I do on my many Instagram accounts (I like anonymity sometimes, ok?)

I’ve had it on my mind to make a more structured blog with a different goal than simply random thoughts, maybe eventually it’ll happen.

Until then, I’ll still keep adding things on here, mayhaps not as often as I thought awhile ago, because the speed of my life is going up.

blank but color

I’m sitting on my bed, staring at the keys. I have various books, notebooks, papers, and plants spread all around me. I have words, but I don’t know how to say them. I’m rediscovering my writing style, because I slacked off on my writing for a time, so excuse the awkwardness and lack of direction as I sort through the mental ball of wire that is currently my thought process.

First of all, God has been working on my heart and who I am in pretty big ways that I did not see coming these past two weeks. He is so, so good, and I can’t believe that we can actually talk directly to Him.

What have I been learning?

God’s timing and will is FAR better than my own. I had an experience a few years ago that actually forms a pretty significant part of my testimony. It taught me and really laid the foundation for believing that God has a plan for everything that happens, it’s His will, I can’t mess His will up. In His timing He will restore things and make them beautiful, and give us peace with it. Hard things are part of growth. Seeing how He orchestrated that first event, and then being able to have that assurance and peace in trusting Him in recent events has been really huge. It’s a calm peace, trusting Him isn’t as hard as I once thought it was.

Fear is a choice. In Christ, you are free from that. You only have fear if you choose to pick it up.

When I was younger, I never understood what people meant when they said they could hear from God. The ‘Still small voice’. I’d ask my mom what He sounded like, how I’d know it was Him, what if He never talks to me, what if I don’t realize it’s Him?  But I’ve heard from Him. It’s different that what I expected when I was younger, but it’s unmistakable and beautiful. Often it’s a thought that gets stuck in my mind and won’t go away, that gets unknowingly confirmed by other people, or in the word. Sometimes it’s in other ways, more or less direct, but when I’m actually listening for Him and not trying to shut Him out I can hear much more clearly. And I’m grateful.

Being confident in prayers. Claiming prayers. He gives us promises and it’s ok for us to remind Him. Not to pray and then doubt or not expect Him to actually do it. Ya gotta have faith, prepare for what you prayed for. If it’s not His plan He’ll show you.

To obey God is the best thing. It will be blessed, He is a God that rewards, and you can claim and trust in your blessing.

I have more of a people pleasing tendency than I thought, but really only with the people close to me. Not everyone I love will understand or agree with my actions or what God has asked me to do, and that’s ok. What matters is obedience.

The little things you do, the little disciplines, make a HUGE difference and set your course. The little choices in your life, the little habits, they all add up. It’ll make ya or break ya.

Reject that sin. God is better.

When in doubt, don’t open your mouth.

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Right now, I don’t know where I’m headed, I’m a blank canvas that doesn’t know what type of paint is about to be added. And that’s completely ok. He’ll open the doors and give direction in His timing. I’m content in that.

blessings,

elisabeth grace

I’m back

I have a tendency to be a bit of a perfectionist.

If my mom is reading this, she probably just laughed, because I am messy (although I like to view it as organized chaos; I know exactly where everything is!) yet I have my systems.

I think that there are different types of perfectionism, and mine is that often I’ll hold back if I feel I can’t do it just right and how I want it to be.  That has been affecting my writing a lot, and I need to stop and press through it anyways, and write the words to just get them out and in plain sight. In speech often times I’ll bumble and fumble my way along, painfully aware of how my words are stuttering or my brain decides it can’t remember words, and that has translated to my writing recently. I stopped writing, got discouraged and overwhelmed, could only see cliches, the wheels ground to a halt, and the oiled machine got rusted.

Yet I think I’m learning how to fix that; I need to write more. About whatever comes through, to just run with it and see what grows.  Practice.

So here I am saying to expect more posts, don’t expect perfection, and excuse my bumbles, because there will probably be many, but hopefully it will lead to growth. ❤

-grace

pillars and 2×4’s

Today, I have felt so burdened with a craving to read my Bible. Spiritual hangryness is a thing and it strikes hard. So I took all of my musings and thoughts and worries and found relief in these blessed pages. 

One thing that has been on my mind a lot recently, is the verse in Psalms 144:12, “that our daughters may be as pillars, sculptured in palace style.”

Wow. As a daughter, that is what I should be striving toward. To be a graceful pillar. Sounds odd at first, but when you think about it, the pillars (or corner pillars, as some versions read) are resonsible for holding up the building. And as a visible pillar, we are called to be a beautiful pillar. That is not to limit us to physical beauty, I believe, but to beauty of the heart and spirit. 

What does that mean? To be kind to siblings, to mindfully choose others ahead of ourselves, to watch our attitude and have sweet speech, to look out for others and help hold up and support the household, in whatever way you’re needed, and so forth. 

And man. Lately I’ve been more of a 2×4 than a palace pillar. Conviction stings. 

What I’ve been really realizing lately is how great of an impact one can have (and can only have) as an older sibling.  You really do set the tone for all of the younger kids, and whether they plan to or not, they’re going to take some walks in the footprints you left. You can set the tone of the whole house, you can lift people up or drag them down, you can leave a bad taste and memories in their mouth, or bring about sweet ones and laughter. You can make others stronger and encouraged, or bring them down under your foot and grind them til they feel useless. Which then causes walls to be build and good luck tearing those down. 

So today, let’s start being pillars and strong trees, holding up our families as only we can. 

march monday rambles

     A quiet day. Snuggly nanny baby, cheerful babbles and wobbly steps from her. The weather outside shifts from snow to rain to sunshine to wind and back again, March is copycatting February. 

     I sit and think about blessings. I have ginger tea and a napping baby, two notebooks and a healthy body. Wonderful smart parents and great siblings, I’ve learned so much from all of them. Socks and tulips, cheese from my favorite and the ability to directly talk to my God. Wow. 

I have the sweetest love I could ever ask for, an answer to many prayers I prayed and prayers I didn’t even think to pray, but God chose to bless silly me with him anyways. Life has always looked bright to me, but it’s even brighter now.

     It’s almost spring, my favorite time, the blood is beginning to stir, the trees are thinking about budding, life is coming back, and I am blessed, and I am grateful. 

my valentine 

Cinnamon-coffee eyes, strong safe arms that hold me tight, one of the hardest working people I know, mischievous smirks, so many smarts up in that head, such clever and gentle and strong hands. Not perfect, but perfect human people are a myth and intimidating, and he wouldn’t need me if so. This way I get to watch and help him grow. 
So grateful for my brown eyed love. 

My Person

February 2, 2017. 

Bible study, talking in the car. I loved his rich brown eyes and told him so. A sigh, eye contact, shaking hands. A declaration of love and interest. An answer.

 So. Much. Joy. 

Snowflakes started falling, an arm around me, bliss. 

My childhood friend and crush who I always thought I weirded out, is now my person. And it is the happiest things. 

more free thoughts

reading through journals and old poems and prose, realizing I haven’t written like that in a while, even though I want to. The best way to get back into it, I’ve found, is writing here. 

Writing out what comes to mind, then hitting Publish, the thoughts go official. 

Past words and remembers…

That night i danced alone until I tripped, 

my head, piano, and knee collided somehow,

Blood

curled on the floor for a few minutes holding my hair until the ache left, wondering how I managed to do that. 
Funny how you can miss and yearn for things you’ve never had, craving tastes yet to be savored… part of them earthly, but you can also feel and aches for Heaven. Where no longer we have the cursed version II, we’ll have the fully restored original, and it’ll be so beautiful. To feel you fit. To have your heart full. To talk with the Lord. 

Abba, keep my silly heart next to Yours. 

Honestly, there are words that I want to write, things that I want so much to say, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in this life it’s that the right thing at the wrong time is the wrong thing. So I’ll wait a while longer, and soon I think I’ll speak.