dear self...don't forget.

dear self...don't forget.

dear self...don't forget. 

dear self...
battles have been fought.
darkness has tried to take out our light.
fear has shaken our ground.
arrows of lies have been aimed to our heart.
wounds have been a part of us
and broken pieces are all that we have left.

but, dear self...don't forget.
I plead, don't forget
that there is one who loves our broken pieces.
who is with us in the battle
who fights and conquerors every battle
who is the Light that can't be snuffed out
who shields us from the flaming arrows
who heals our wounds
who completes us.

don't forget...
that this One has gone through
everything we have faced+are facing+will face
100X more
in payment of our life.
He was shredded, pierced, mocked
and died and rose from the grave for us.

don't forget...that only He defines who we are.
don't forget...who He says we are.
don't forget, please, that He says 
“you are my beloved child; you are beloved.”
do not forget... He loves the broken you.
(Jer. 31:3)
~Ellie J

In Progress

In Progress

     We are in progress. We aren't done yet.

     We are fighters - fighters against the darkness, fighters for our own minds, and fighters for truth. But we are still building our muscles.

     We are hard workers - learning how to do things effectively and study better than ever before.

     We are adventurers - giving ourselves space to explore and getting up early to get our lives on the road.

     We are peacemakers - still figuring out how to love people well and how to stay calm ourselves when it all piles on top of us.

     We are in progress, but we're going to make it. Why?

  • Because we've identified our people - the ones we can count on
  • And we are putting our best feet forward in unison
  • And we aren't worried about what others think
  • And we've given the rest over to God.

     You are still growing. Still learning. Still being made into the image of your Creator.

     And He is still God.

     So be still.

{sometimes I write the posts my heart needs \\ this is one of those posts \\ let me know if it resonates with you too}

internally battling

internally battling

internal battles are the hardest to fight
they pull at my heart and play with my emotions
the fight makes me weak in the knees and dizzy in the head
the feelings moving through my body are stubborn
they whisper to stay in bed all day
and i can't shake that off

those feelings
amplify bitter songs
are mute to freckles of sunshine
pick at my nail polish

i don't feel capable to put one foot in front of the other
but somewhere deep within me i know i can

once i start moving i won't stop
i'll put it all aside
and i'll tell those feelings to get out of my way

and so i move forward fighting the urge
to stay in bed

the initial first few steps are the battle
but once that's won

the rest falls into place.

- vanessa 

something beautiful

something beautiful

Did you mean it when you said you want to
see all the thoughts that I bury so deep?
Did you want to hear the screams? They’re bouncing
off the walls of every crevasse in this
place. What is this place? I’m not sure. But it’s
dark and cold and all I want is something
beautiful to come in and stay a while.

I hear you sometimes. You’re walking outside
the halls of this place, whatever this place is,
and I’m banging on the doors, begging for
light and air, but I don’t think anyone
can hear me. Maybe it’s silent, maybe
there’s no noise at all; but then why are my
eardrums bleeding from all the screaming?

It’s not as bad as you’d think, in the dark.
I keep a flashlight in my pocket; if
I search the walls for long enough I can
find a poor crack to let in the warmth. Warmth.
It comes when I see that flicker behind
your eyes that means you understand, that
you found something extraordinary

In this dark place. And now, look at you, I
wasn’t expecting that. You’re pulling up
the floorboards, revealing beams of light
underneath. We’ll make this place our own; we’ll
put in glass so the light gets through, put in
windows. And now I can see that the screams
weren’t screams; they were birds singing.

Something beautiful was already here;
I only lacked the light to see it. I
let the darkness change songs into screams. Your
screams were a song all along, you tell me.
You heard my song, opened the door to this
place, showed me how to let the light in. We
dance on glass floors and revel in its grace.

- MaryShelley

i know what you're thinking

i know what you're thinking

I know what you're thinking
beautiful thing
as you lie awake in the dark with your shining eyes
rivers of gold stardust tears running down your cheeks
dripping onto the floor and making it glow
like your heart did
before the world broke your trust

I know what you're thinking
glorious thing
as you wonder what the point is
why we wake each day
and go to work
or go to school
or go to parties
or watch videos on the internet
a n y t h i n g
to numb the pain
to take away the feeling
the sharp edges
of the broken things

but you,
beautiful, glorious thing
you are better off getting hurt
you are better off crying
you are better off when the broken things make you bleed
because it means you can feel
it means you haven't lost that wondrous gift you were born with

it means you haven't lost your soul

I know what you're thinking
beautiful thing
as you lie awake in the dark with your shining eyes
I know that you want to give up

d o n ' t.

the world needs you
because you are
our only
h o p e

- abbiee



this is for you
whether you're the


pray for yourself, all the mess you're wrestling with
pray for them, all the broken hearts and bravest souls in your life
pray for our nation, because God can do a work in any situation
& when you're done,
learn to pray for God's will above all else.

be thankful for what you have
be full of hope in the silence around you
be full of passion when the noise is crushing you
& ultimately, be faithful, available, and teachable.

grow in your strengths and foster creativity
grow in the Lord - learn His Word and His very nature
grow in your relationships with other humans
& grow enough to get outside of your comfort zone.

give of your time and talents - they're not to be hoarded
give from what you have
give without expecting anything back
& give beyond what you could give in your own strength.

love the other
love the broken
love the family around you until they see Him in you
love the friends and acquaintances surrounding you
& love until your heart grows three sizes.

go to school, work, or your own home
go to the places God has called you
go to the vulnerable places in relationships that stretch you
go into the wild unknown
& go be a light in a dark world.

& trust God to grow what you have planted in faith; it won't go to waste.


Make Art

Make Art

Make art.

There come times in our lives when we hit a dry spell in creativity.

We may not write more than a few lines at a time.
We may not paint, or draw, or take photos.
We may not create music or write songs.
We may not dance.

The older we get, the more our focus can shift away from making the art that awakens our spirits, instead scattering toward the dozens of responsibilities and tasks required of us as societal beings.

From high school, in which we often feel pulled in five different directions (school, family, friends, activities, work), to college, in which the number of directions increases (add internships, rushing, a new environment, facing the world by yourself), to early adulthood, in which we wonder how the adults in our lives ever made it past twenty-five, we feel ourselves slipping into patterns of mundanity and routine. We make the sacrifices of our time that we feel are necessary. Education, paying bills and providing for a family or sustaining yourself, taking care of others—these are our priorities. Creating beautiful, moving, or joy-inspiring things are nice, yes, but unnecessary to life. Or so we think.
But we forget that art is not just about creating a tangible piece of work—a creation of colors, a world made of words, a melody of our own madness. These things are beautiful, and needed, but they are only the product of the essence that is art.

Art is love.

It is helping a little girl feel safe.

It is teaching a boy the difference between bravery and bravado.

It is treating people with less wealth and social standing with respect and honor. It is treating people with more wealth and social standing with respect and honor.

It is the honoring of all races.

It is the honoring of your mother and father.

It is the honoring of yourself.

It is the honoring of God.

It is calling beauty forth where it was dormant and hiding.

You want to know the meaning of life? This is your highest calling: You called into the dynamic co-creation of the cosmos. This breath is your canvas and your brush. These are the raw materials for your art, for the life you are making. Nothing is off limits. Your backyard, your piano, your paintbrush, your conversation, Rwanda, New Orleans, Iraq, your marriage, your soul. You’re making a living with every step you take.

Jon Foreman

                                                                                                                                            ~Hannah W.