Fully Alive, Fully You

Fully Alive, Fully You


     "You do you" is my common whisper to myself. Be you bravely. Be the best, truest version of yourself. Be who God is creating in you.

     You may not have "friends" to hang out with. You may not be "cool" like your sibling. You may be a "work-in-progress." But you are you, and none of those quotation marks matter. You are loved deeply by the Creator of the World, and you are in a good place, even if it feels like a lonely place.

     Your soul health is dependent on quiet & crazy, balanced to perfection. You know you need both, but one always seems preferable to the other.

     You are beautiful. You are seen, known, and loved. You are mature & maturing. You are unlocking more and more of the beautiful deep places that have always been there within you.

     The temporal is passing away in all its glitter. The eternal is steady in all its glory. You go deep fast, but you know that not everyone can be trusted.

     Tears are not your way, nor the cold, hard facts. You bring balance and harmony to the world by delivering the truth gently. If one of those is missing - truth or gentleness - you'll notice. Truth can be brutal. Gentleness can be fake. The combination is a delicate, beautiful heart place.

     Stay in your heart place, dear one. Keep your brain in your head and your heart in your chest. Your perspective on the world is perfectly you and perfectly valued.

~Madeline {an excerpt from journal no. 3}

how rare and beautiful

how rare and beautiful



this is for the ones with light in their veins
all that's gold don't glitter

sometimes you are a 
dark
damp
ache
and i'm here too

but look at the stars

some of them shine across millions of light years
and fit in a teaspoon


but that breath in your lungs can do 
so much

it's ready


sometimes you feel tired and small
b u t 
my friend

you are courage

you just took another breath
and another
you allowed that war in your mind to become
a memory
and not a revised definition of
y o u

breath
in your lungs

do you feel it?

that
right there

is courage


how rare
and beautiful
it is


love,
abbiee

p.s. read the whole thing. then read the left. then read the right. then read the center. or in whatever order you like. remember how rare and beautiful you are.

gold underneath

gold underneath




you are the quiet after the rain

you are the sea,
the still fragments reflecting the moonlight,

but sometimes you are the storm.
the wild, howling wind

we don't know where you come from,
or where you are going.

you are the sleep that comes with the dawn,
but other times you are the aches,
the anxiety that comes with the starless dark

sometimes you are the prodigal returning,
but other times you are the prodigal making a run for it.

sometimes the earth is full and bursting
and other times we are full and bursting with the fear
that whirls down from the ceiling fan above our beds.

but there's life life
in those bones bones

they are made of gold
underneath

they are not
hollow

your eyes are dripping with all the light
that wants to break out from underneath your skin

you are made of
bravery





of a life that wouldn't be held back
by a gravestone

if even death couldn't hold you back,
if all the darkness of the tomb couldn't keep you down,

how much less can your own mind keep you locked away?
it only will if you give it the keys, child.

there's more than that darkness,
there's more than that tomb.

there's life rattling that rib cage,
and there's glory scratching at that holy skin

these more than bones underneath.
there's gold.
life
a comeback
a resurrection




lOVE,
kATE


take off your grave clothes

take off your grave clothes























Everywhere you look are dead men walking. The grave nips at the heels of every person you pass by. You'd see it if you gave them a second glance. Why else would the human race look so much like a rat race?
People pace, eyes downcast, pushing, shoving. Hands out, clawing their way up the system, standing on, crushing others just to get a scrap of love.
Of success.
Of acceptance.
Of peace.
Anything for a breath of life.
There are corpses on these streets, friend. Walking, talking, smiling on the outside, but there's a mummified spirit underneath.
The question of,
“How are you?”
Is quickly put to rest with,
“I'm fine,”
Because to admit to being anything less than fine is to admit that we are less than.
Less than perfect.
Less than okay.
Less than...
...alive?
You laugh at the foolishness of hope. Scowl at it, curl your lip, shove it away. There is no room for life in the land of the dead. You're knee deep in the mire of failure and forgotten dreams. You hold tight to those grave clothes, you don't want to think about what might lie underneath.
Did it ever occur to you that those dead dreams, that broken spirit...might only be asleep?
See, I know a couple who prayed fervently for a child. Ten years passed and still...nothing seemed to be happening. Meanwhile, they took in every foster kid that came their way. Nurtured them with all the love in their hearts, whether it was for six months or just one day. But they never stopped hoping for a miracle of their own. She's four now, always clinging to her mother's side. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.
See, I know a woman who spent eighteen years locked up in a cell for the things she had done. But those last seven years of time served, her heart had never been freer. All because she met Jesus in the back of a patrol car. It didn't matter that she was in handcuffs because every chain had just been busted off her soul. After her release, working in a little coffee shop, the daughter she had been cut off from twenty years prior sent her a message on Facebook. Broken relationships don't last when you belong to the One who will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten.
See, I know a man from Nazareth. A place from where “nothing good could come”. He walked dusty roads, healing the sick and doing good to all people. The religious establishment saw Him as a threat. Ridiculed Him, tortured Him, hung Him on a cross. When He gave His final breath, the hearts of His followers were broken. All hope was lost. Three days later, He rose from the grave, bringing with Him all power and authority in heaven and on earth.
He is alive and He is in the business of resurrection, my friend. He has the final say over all things, even that which you have long since buried. Take off your grave clothes. Leave them right where you stand. Walk out of the tomb. The Resurrection and the Life is calling your name.

-ashlyn

scriptures: luke 1:45, joel 2:25, matthew 28:18

The Lady With My Blue Pen

The Lady With My Blue Pen




I gave my blue pen to a lady in a wheelchair.
Her lips retreated back into her face.
Her legs didn't work.
She couldn't quite talk.
And she knew it.

I gave my blue pen to the lady in a wheelchair.
She had a pink box full of poems,
Of dreams and wedding invitations.
It was full of her life,
And she knew it.

I gave my blue pen to the lady in a wheelchair
As she whispered to me,
"It all falls in place, doesn't it?"
I don't know what "it" was.
But she knew it.

I gave my blue pen to the lady in a wheelchair
Because she wanted to write a poem.
I could see the words
Bubbling beneath her skin.
And she knew it.

I gave my blue pen to the lady in a wheelchair.
She possessed poetry in her veins,
A power of words in her soul
As she showed me her work.
And she knew it.

I gave my blue pen to the lady in a wheelchair.
She held it with an idea,
A purpose was forming
As she wrote in the air.
And she knew it.

I gave my blue pen to the lady in a wheelchair
She pointed it to her grandchildrens' picture
"I just want them to..."
She couldn't finish.
But I knew it.

I gave my blue pen to the lady in a wheelchair.
She wrote a poem in the air,
And it landed in my heart.
This is that poem.
And she knows it.


The Lady With My Blue Pen showed me, without many words, that dreams never die, even if we face death. The Lady With My Blue Pen reminds me that God uses our gifts even when the world tell us that we are done. The Lady With My Blue Pen showed me what true poetry is, and she knows it.

Princess Hannah

The Gift of Life

The Gift of Life


     Sometimes it feels like we have nothing left to give.

     Our hearts are checked out for the day, and our minds are wandering down the lane.

     When there is nothing left in us, simple words come. Simple, beautiful truths that we can pass along to others. We didn't think there was any gift left within us, and yet, the words come.

     "You have such a kind heart," we tell the friend who stops in.

     And to the mom wrangling four kids at the store: "You're doing an amazing job. Hang in there!"

     If you think about the last encouraging words someone said to you, it's easy to see why words are so vital to our well-being. When we receive words, we store them up and ponder them in our hearts.

     We say these things to others because the words stick. They stay with us and hold onto us.

     So we say "Thank you so much!" to the elderly cashier.

     And bid the mail carrier "good day!"

     A text to a friend reminds them that they are held by Someone greater than their problems.

     These little gifts of words, sprinkled around, don't seem like much, yet the impact they leave could be lasting. 

     Though we have no money and our energy is spent, words of the "you-can-do-it-I-believe-in-you" variety to a friend can go a long way.

     Because although we may not realize it in the moment, the gift of words is the gift of life.

~Madeline

3AM

3AM



on the three am
it can be hard to pull the dark out of its kiss with the light
it can all be a tempest; swirling 
making it hard to see through those bleary eyes
what's what.

which is real. which is the illusion.

you share your room with you sister 
so you've learned to cry quietly.

the moonlight asks you questions,
or is that just the clash of swords
behind your forehead:

who are you?
who are you?
who are you?




and your heart is a canary
in your chest's collapsing 
coal mine

hurricane head, child. 
oh, you're such a mess. 

on the four thirty am
it can be hard to answer that echoing voice that wants to know
what happened to the you 
you used to know.

sometimes its hard to know who you are,
when everything is so loud upstairs.
when the moonlight becomes venom. 

sometimes you just need to know
who you aren't

you pretty, messy, bleary eyed child. let me tell you.




you are not
those voices

you are not
the fear

you are not
the darkness dripping down from your bedroom ceiling

you are not
the sick feeling in your stomach

you are not 
alone

you are not 
abandoned

you are not
invisible

you are not
unloved

you are not 
unspoken for




it hurts on the five am. when the shy sun flushes the hills pink. 
when you're the only one awake, tangled up in those sweaty sheets

when you hear your momma get up to make the coffee
and you think about your parents 
and you wish you were better,
and you wish you were better for them,
or that things were how they used to be.

oh, love. they love you. they love you. they love you.

and i love you.

and someone far brighter than the sun is reaching through that window 
to fill up those cracks in your heart with kisses. with life.

you are not
unnecessary

you are
essential, child.
essential.






lOVE,
kATE

you aren't wasting your childhood

you aren't wasting your childhood






















I'm not 'wasting' my childhood.

Contrary to what people believe, me typing away on my computer, me handwriting plot outlines, me making playlists for my work in progress, me filing draft after draft for this new writing blog I put up -- it's not a 'waste'.

You're not 'wasting' your childhood.

Contrary to what people believe, you investing hours on learning a piece on your cello, you in silent prayer every morning and night, you out on the field soaked through with sweat and your focus on the game, you pointing your camera to a sight you've never seen before, you dancing your heart out in your bedroom in the early hours of morning, you belting out to your favorite musical in the car, is not a 'waste'.

Growing up I'd like to honestly say that I've had support in terms of my hobbies. My family has been incredibly supportive of me with my early endeavors in ballet (which I quit and have little regrets about as it isn't my thing), gymnastics (a one-time free trial in a gymnastics club that I promptly rejected), piano and voice lessons (around three years? To which there was no avail), and of course, my writing.

But I still tend to feel judged.

The better half of me tells me not to mind it. It's their own line of thinking anyway. However, I would love to give my insight on this, and if a problem is just avoided, it doesn't mean it will go away, right?

Contrary to what people believe, the childhood and teenage years is not a single truth.

Childhood does not mean playing with building blocks, tying your shoes then wishing for velcro, and learning how to tell time.

It does not necessarily mean spending hours watching cartoons to reminisce them years later, play hopscotch, wish to visit Disney Land, and dream of being a princess, astronaut, or magician.

My childhood meant scribbling on bond papers and ripped-out pages, obsessing over filling up a new notebook with a collection of stories, and making a promise to myself, that in the future, I would get published.

Yours could mean receiving your very first instrument, learning 'Ode to Joy' and simple strums, and joining kids' recitals with your family videotaping you. It could mean you putting on your size three ballet shoes, or learning how to dribble, or whipping up your very first meal to present to your family: something like greasy bacon and wet eggs. It could also mean falling in love with your hobby, slowly, gradually.

Teenage years does not mean partying, hanging out with your clique, forming social circles, staying up-to-date on the latest TV shows and movies. It does not necessarily equal backstabbing your parents, rebelling, using the latest acronyms and shortcuts in texting, heartbreak, and first loves.

My teenage years are: reading book after book, hiding in my room to churn out my next novel, looking up books and author interviews, and attending book signings to meet people I consider my literary heroes.

Yours could mean: buying paintbrush after paintbrush, visiting art museums to improve your technique and hone your style, and joining art competitions. It could also mean mastering a perfect smash or serve, doodling, creating scrapbooks, finishing yet another piece of embroidery to frame, and packing for another hike you're so excited to take.

I feel like I'm in a gilded cage. Or maybe that's just the choking sensation of peer pressure. The glitz and glamor stuffed inside the cage to make me feel like everything's all right, but it's clearly wrong, because through the bars of this cage I can see it clearly: who I want to be and how I want to spend my years and what I want to do.

Go ahead. Let's pick the lock of this cage and step outside, because we are not wasting our childhood because we are doing what we wholly love.

what is your childhood?


when the future is TERRIFYING

when the future is TERRIFYING




Hi, friend. I get it.

The future is so, so scary.

Maybe you’re in high school, and you have absolutely no idea what’s gonna happen in a few years – where you’ll go to college, if you’ll even go, or what you’ll do if you don’t take the college route.

Maybe you’re in college, and you’re going back and forth between the things you want to do after – you want to get a great job, but you also want to travel, and you also want to start a family.

Where will I live? What job will I have? What kind of education is best for my future? Do I want to marry?

Maybe you’re facing decisions that you’ve never had to deal with before, and it all seems like too much to handle. The stress, the pressure, the anxiety – it all builds up, and oh, I so get it.

The future can be terrifying.

But I’ve found solace in this, that we’re only given one day at a time; we’re given today, and that’s it.

The future is simply the todays that are to come – one day at a time. This is today-living.

Our responsibility is simply to be good stewards of each day – to pray that God would lead us to the right opportunities, and to guide us to do the right thing, decision by decision, hour by hour.

Today-living means making wise plans, but not being afraid to let God lead us in different directions than we’d originally planned. It means trusting God at the beginning of a new day to bring us to where He has for us to be – and trusting Him at the end of that day that He has brought us to the right place.

It means making the most of the time we’ve been given, and living life fearlessly.

It means trusting God.

And yes, trusting God can be scary, because He doesn’t reveal His whole plan to us at once. He gives it to us one step at a time, one moment at a time, one decision at a time, and even then, His plan often seems fuzzy.

But in all of our decisions we make, He promises us His presence, His guidance, and His love to bring us to exactly the places we need to be. Even when they’re unlikely – even when they seem odd – even when they’re exactly opposite of what we imagine.

So the future? It’s still uncertain. We still have to make those big decisions about where we’re going – but we aren’t alone in those decisions. Because as we trust God to lead us to MAKE the right decisions, we can also trust that He’ll lead us IN them, even in ways we can’t see.

Today, do what you feel called to do. Trust God, and take the plunge.

He’s got this.


what to do when you feel stuck

what to do when you feel stuck


Everyone has been there. Everyone.
You feel uninspired or maybe stressed or maybe tired.
Or maybe you don't know what you feel but something just kind of
itches.

Take a deep breath.
No, seriously. A DEEEEEP breath.
Let it out.
Nice and easy.
Take another.
Sigh it out. Force it.
Take another.
Yell it out. Surprise yourself.

Are you wearing something uncomfortable?
Why?
Go change. Seriously. Right now.
Go find the comfiest clothes and put them on your body.
Let your hair down.
Rub your hands together. Create friction. Heat.
Lick your lips.

Drink a glass of water. Make it cold. What does it feel like to swallow?
Check the pulse in your neck. Your wrists.
You're alive.
Wow.

Maybe you've been sitting a lot. Stand up.
Keep your feet hips distance apart and your knees softly bent. Swing your arms back and forth. Go with the flow. Make your spine happy.

Maybe you've been standing a lot. Sit down.
Massage your feet. Start with the arches and move to the toes.
Are they warm or cold?
Now massage your hands.

Go outside and breathe. It doesn't matter how cold or late it is. Go outside.
And breathe. Ten times.
DEEEEP BREATHS.
Feel your lungs inflate and take up space in your body.
What does outside smell like today?
Exhale. Make some noise, happy or sad.
Let go.

Find a mirror. Look at yourself. Say, "You are beautiful."
Again. Whisper it.
Again. Shout it.
Watch yourself smile.


Everything is as it should be.

- abbiee

hey there, little dreamer

hey there, little dreamer






















"she was afraid of heights,
but she was much more afraid
of never flying."

-atticus

--

hey there, little dreamer

i know.

i know that it's scary

i know that the thought of it

knots up your stomach

and makes your hands shake

and makes you feel like you can't catch your breath. 

i know that you've got those big dreams

those ideas that make your heart beat a little faster

the ones that seem just inches from your grasp

but they're on the other side of the canyon 

and you don't see a bridge

and you're scared to jump.

hey there, little dreamer

take a breath

get ready to jump

i believe in you.

hey there, little dreamer

pick your head up.

it's gonna be alright. 

--

don't go back to sleep

don't go back to sleep







“The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth 
across the doorsill where the two worlds touch,
The door is round and open
Don't go back to sleep.”

- Rumi



this world is big, big, big
& full, full, full
waiting for you to reach out and take hold
of what's been yours all along.

don't let this today pass you by.
be here. be present.
be awake
alert
ready.

it's yours, yours, yours.



XO
kATE

a list that you'll probably need

a list that you'll probably need

of things to do when you don't like yourself very much

- make cinnamon rolls, or cookies, or hot tea.
- listen to music that is actually happy, but muted happy so it doesn't just feel like nails against the chalkboard of your heart
- take a long shower and feel the hot water and shampoo your hair. be thankful that you can.
- go on a walk, seriously. doesn't matter what time of day.
- try making someone else happy.
- clean. organize. start small. it feels good, promise.
- look at the first and/or last sentence in all your books.
- start writing your flow of thought. maybe it'll turn into something.
- or draw your thoughts. get the bad ones out. make the good ones into something pretty, or just something that means something to you.
- go to sleep.
- make art. preferably watercolors. it doesn't have to be impressive. just art, because you are capable of creating.
- pray. write your prayers out. it has salvaged my prayer life.
- flip through your bible. look at the underlined verses. write them out. speak truth to yourself.


and, in case you forgot, Jesus loves you just as much in this moment as he did in the moment that he chose to endure the suffering and humiliation of the cross for your sake. you are so valuable and loved- fact. no matter what you feel.

You'll Play Against You

You'll Play Against You


I'm afraid that sometimes you'll play lonely games too
Games you can't win 'cause you'll play against you.

~ Dr. Suess, Oh the Places You'll Go

     Sometimes we hit a wall of overwhelming loneliness. There's suddenly no one to listen, no one to share with, and no one to help. At least, it feels that way.

     As an ambivert (half-introvert, half-extrovert), I know that both introverts and extroverts feel this way sometimes. It's a scary, sinking feeling in the pits of even the bravest stomachs.

     Surrounded by people, yet alone, we fight through the awkwardness and go home exhausted.

     But maybe the problem is that we're fighting against ourselves. You may feel like you can't win, but that is because you're on both sides of the argument.

     The fact is this: We have both lies and truth battling within us.

     Don't try and believe both, or you'll just find yourself losing. Separate the lies from the truth; then begin to believe the truth with every fiber of your being.

     I'm not good enough.
          becomes
               I am covered by Christ's righteousness.

     I don't have anyone.
          becomes
               He will never leave me or forsake me. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

     I can't do this.
          becomes
               I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13)

     I'm a failure and an uninteresting person.
          becomes
               I have unlimited potential and unique gifts to use in this world.

     I'm not as _________ {pretty, smart, valuable, etc.} as her.
          becomes
               God calls me beautiful, and I can trust the way He made me.

     What lies are beating you down today? There is always a truth to combat it with. Speak the truth over yourself when a lie confronts you. If you stop playing against yourself, the loneliness will begin to melt away. The truth will fill you with good things.

     You are a truth-teller. You are an image-bearer. You are a masterpiece.

     Most importantly, you are not alone. I encourage you to find a woman a few years older or a few experiences ahead, who will encourage you in the truth. Maybe this is a friend's mom, a college student, a woman from church, a teacher. Having a guide or two on the path of truth is invaluable!

     If you can identify the people in your life who will cheer you on and help you battle the lies, you might just find yourself on your own team.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."
~ Deuteronomy 31:6

~Madeline

how precious are His thoughts

how precious are His thoughts

Image result for tumblr morning sun
via
The other day I was reading Psalm 139, which I feel like Jesus basically breathed into the Bible for those days when I feel insecure, inadequate, less than. If you're not familiar with the Psalm, it's all about how God knows us, created us, sees us even when we're hiding. It's all about our relationship with God and how intimately He understands every fiber of our being.

Now I've read Psalm 139 about a million times, 
but it struck me recently just how much of this Psalm revolves around thinking:

"You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar."

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts."

And then the killer, the verse that really cut to the depths of my heart:

"How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!"

This can also be translated, "How precious concerning me are your thoughts, O God!" 

I never understood so clearly what I understood in that moment: 
God's thoughts concerning us all are positive, precious thoughts.

If you're like me, you may grapple with negative thoughts more than you care to admit. 
But God's thoughts towards His people are precious?! 

Psalm 139 is like the epitome of Biblical self-love and healthy, positive thinking: 
It reassures us that we are seen by God, and shows us that the way we think about ourselves is not the way God does.

"Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you, 
I will give men in exchange for you, and people in exchange for your life." 
~ Isaiah 43:4

Y'all, I'm tired of my negative thinking. It's exhausting. And I'm sick to death of trying to constantly chase a boy or a body type that was never meant for me. After all: I am me! And you are you. And, my friends, when we truly grasp all that it means to be known by God and to dwell on how He thinks of us....that is precious. 

~ erin

Girl

Girl




















Girl
Braids and ball caps
Hair bows and stuffed animals
Flower crowns and chipped nail polish
Lover of all things bright and beautiful
Adventures and staying up reading past bedtime

Girl
Owner of scraped knees
Porcelain figurines
And worlds created in her imagination
When did you trade the books and toys in your backpack
For the weight and burden of the world?

Girl
The one with the caged and wary heart
You're a little weighted down
With lies and tears and promises that weren't kept
Shackles around your ankles
The burden of shattered trust

Girl
Did you know those places that seem beyond repair?
Those places..yes, girl, those
Those are the exact same places
That the light gets in and grows
The seeds planted in your soul

Girl
I know what you're thinking
How can something that hurts so bad
Ever be turned into anything resembling good?
But I know you
Because I am you

Girl
I know the nights you've spent
Sobbing into your pillow
The victim of your own unrelenting thoughts
The days that the hustle of going through the motions
Was enough to send your head spinning

Girl
Shaking hands with 'braveheart' written across your palms
Tigress earning her stripes
I know how hard you have fought
To never, ever let the battle make you
Anything, but soft

Girl
She who has galaxies in her eyes

Girl
The one with a nuclear warhead for a brain

Girl
Raging hurricane in the place of your soul

Yes, you, darling, you
Are a mountain shaker
Because you belong to the One
Who casts them into the sea on your behalf

Girl
Do you know how bright you shine
Each and every time you reflect
The light of the Morning Star Himself?

Girl
Do you know your own preciousness?
That which is Divine became that which is human
In order to not only partake in your brokenness
But free you from it as well?

Girl
Do you know how brave you are?
How strength drips from your fingertips
As you sit with a pen and a page
Writing out the psalms of your broken heart?

When you could feel the first cracks of your hopes and dreams
About to avalanche around you
And the tears were streaming down
And you whispered, “Thy will be done,”
You positioned yourself in the safest and most glorious place
On either side of eternity

The next morning
As you began praying for someone else who was hurting
And His voice interrupted you with the reminder,
I AM close to the brokenhearted.”
Pulled you close and invited you to be filled up
Before you began pouring out
And suddenly, your pain didn't seem so overwhelming
Because you realized you weren't alone

Yeah, maybe he left
Took advantage of your gentle heart
Emotionally manipulated you while having the audacity to call it love
And it scares you that something could feel so real
Yet be so far from the truth

But what have you to fear when Love Himself knows you by name?
When He who is Love
Never leaves
Never forsakes
Never abandons
Always pursues

You claimed you were a fool
But aren't we all fools in love?
And if your greatest crime was loving too much
What have you to be sorry for?

Girl
Don't let this destroy you
That boy was broken so he did broken things
But you're broken, too
And that can only be fixed by the One
Who was broken to make us whole

Girl
You loved and you lost
But if you bow out with grace
Can you ever really lose?

Girl
You have a fire inside you
Somewhere deep in your chest
It cannot be quenched by temporary people
Not if you choose to keep the flames lit

Girl
You have fought hard battles before
Bruised and bleeding, you have carried on
Step by agonizing step until you saw peace again
You'll make it out of this just fine

Girl
You are a royal Daughter of the Most High
And you deserve a love that treats you as such
A love that would go through hell for you
A love that would cross oceans for you
A love like the One who went to the grave and back again
Just to have you by His side

Girl
Do you hear me?
You already have a Love you can never be separated from
Not by darkness, not by principalities, or even the powers of hell
So, girl, listen-
Anything less is only a counterfeit

Girl
Wait for this love
Give this love
Be this love
Because I AM does not give His heart in pieces
And neither should you




Hey, guys! I wanted to include a link to one of my favorite worship videos of all time...it just seems so fitting in this month that seems to focus on commercialized love..to remind ourselves of our One True Love, Jesus...His love is not broken, not insecure, not fragile, not the restless kind..take a listen xx
-ashlyn

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