:: hard truth ::

"we accept the love we think we deserve."

i deserve better.

:: getting myself sorted ::

courage - 'cor' - the latin for heart. "to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart".

she could never go back and make some of the details pretty. all she could do was move forward and make the whole beautiful. - terri st.cloud

my story matters because i matter.

i have a messy, imperfect, wild, stretch-marked, wonderful, heartbreaking, grace-filled and joyous life. i am fueled by the freedom that comes when i stop pretending that everything is okay when it isn't. i acknowledge the call that rises up from my belly when i find the courage to celebrate those intensely joyful moments even through i've convinced myself that savoring happiness is inviting disaster.

the essential thing in heaven and earth is...that there should be long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run, something which has made life worth living. - nietzsche

choosing authenticity and worthiness is an absolute act of resistance. choosing to live and love with my whole heart is an act of defiance. i'm going to confuse, piss off and terrify lots of people - including myself. one minute i'll pray that the transformation stops, and the next minute i'll pray that it never ends. i'll also wonder how i can feel so brave and so afraid at the same time, but at least i will be very, very alive.

blessed is the man who trusts in the lord, whose confidence is in him. he will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. it does not fear when heat comes, its leaves are always green. it has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. - jeremiah 17:7-8

:: through a glass darkly ::

The first half of life is about “light” (order, meaning, clarity, explanations). The second half of life is where God leads you into “darkness,” which is actually a much better teacher than what seemed like light. Now you learn through waiting, trusting, praying, and “through a glass darkly” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

God has to work on your soul “in secret,” according to the saints and mystics. If God gave you any idea of what God was doing, which is always radical surgery, you would do one of two things: you would try to stop it, or you would try to engineer it and take control of the process. God has to operate in darkness to get the job done.

It is sort of humiliating, isn’t it? Yet it is also deeply consoling, because even on your seemingly empty and unexciting days, even then, you can trust that God is working in you, with you, and for you.

Richard Rohr

:: no wasted thing ::

"Above all, remember that the meaning of life is to live as if it were a work of art. You're not a machine. When you're young, start working on this great work of art called your own existence."

_

"But no matter how much the mess and distortion make you want to despair, you can't abandon the work because you're chained to the bloody thing, it's absolutely woven into your soul and you know you can never rest until you've brought truth out of all the distortion and beauty out of all the mess - but it's agony, agony, agony - while simultaneously being the most wonderful and rewarding experience in the world - and that's the creative proves which so few people understand.

It involves an indestructible sort of fidelity, an insane sort of hope, and indescribable sort of ... well, it's love, isn't it? There's no other word for it...

...That's the way it is. That's creation... You can't create without waste and mess and sheer undiluted slog. You can't create without pain. It's all part of the process. It's in the nature of things...

...So in the end every major disaster, every tiny error, every wrong turning, every fragment of discarded clay, all the blood, seat and tears - everything has meaning. I give it meaning. I reuse, reshape, recast all the goes wrong so that in the end nothing is wasted and nothing is without significance and nothing ceases to be precious to me."

:: confidence ::

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.

Romans 8:26-30

:: becoming undone ::

i had a good cry yesterday because it's hard dealing with 'this'.

and knowing my brain works the way it does - a rapid-fire chain of mental puzzles, forcing bits of knowledge and wisdom together to into a 'gut' feeling, that's unusually right.

it's exhausting.

and if i'm being honest, it kinda sucks.

i'm tired.

the worst part of it all, as being human, is not being truly able to be happy for other people when something great happens to them - especially good people. it's incredibly rude and selfish.

and scary. i can feel the outer shell of my heart tighten a little more each time. it's like a coffin is taking shape, slowly, without regard to my own wishes.

i don't like it. i don't want to be that person.

but then i'm awesome. at least that's what they tell me.

awesome, do they even know what that means?

adjective - extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension or fear.

you know what i hear?
we're afraid/intimidated by you... but you're still really great.

it's like hearing you have a 'great personality'. *!*

great [sarcasm] i'm 'awesome'. thanks for that.

would it kill you to use a different adjective? or be a little more specific?

you know the best part about it?
there's not a damn thing i can do about it.
i am awesome.

and i don't like being 'awesome'.
'awesome' isn't working for me.

and apparently nobody else, either.

but i can't change that fundamental truth about myself. i refuse to. that would be stupid.

i can only accept it.

because if i can't accept who i am - who i really am - they won't either. and i'm no good to anyone else until i do.

they will not like me if i can't like myself first.
they will not love me if i can't learn to love myself first.

i cannot be awesome until i believe that being awesome is inspiring, daunting, apprehensive and fearful... and that's okay.

and so here i am, trying to be fully immersed in who i am, fighting to trust who i really am, so that i can just be. without any judgement... from myself or others. hoping, beyond hope, that i have enough guts to accept who i am so that i can finally live the life i want. the one i deserve to live; the one i can't ever seem to have.

but i'm feeling weak.

i can hear redemption calling from the depths of my soul.
and i'm too too far down to speak.

the darkness is pointing out all the scars that i've been hiding,
all the ghosts i do not name,
and the closets i do not care to open, but open all the same.

i'm trying desperately to live up to the meaning of my name - "courageous in spirit".

while coming undone.

god, help me to come to terms with the truth about myself, and the belief that there is enough power in your name to break every chain.

:: in-between ::

welcome to the in-between.

the part interrupts. the part that shifts. the part that demands change.

the part where things cease to be familiar.

the place of the uncomfortable, the uncertain, the scary.
the painful, the awkward, the restless.
the sometimes unjustified and unwanted.

but this is the in-between.

the part that gives witness to fact that change is coming. a transition is happening. that this too shall pass.

it speaks of the truth that things will get better, and that good is on it's way [though you may not be able to acknowledge it now].

it is not something to be afraid of, run away from or to be discontent with.

no, the in-between is a necessary place. it is an essential part of the journey. for without it, there would be no place for 'next' to come by. no way of moving from one place [bad] to the other [good].

it cannot be skipped, bypassed, or dismissed.

yes, the in-between is [really] hard. it requires a great deal of endurance and effort. strength and courage. sometimes suffering or sympathy.

you can choose to ignore it. but then you would just be stuck in-between.

you see, in order for the in-between to work, it must be embraced. accepted. willingly. wholeheartedly. with a forward motion.

because in-between is a gift. it is the place of freedom that releases us into something new.

the in-between... really isn't so bad.

:: inadequate fear ::

"our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. it is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. we ask ourselves, who am i to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? actually, who are you not to be? you are a child of god. your playing small does not serve the world. there is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. we are all meant to shine, as children do. we were born to make manifest the glory of god that is within us. it's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. as we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

nelson mandela

:: unbelief ::

hey god.

i think i'm back in that place again. that place where i question why and doubt how. that place where i know you exist but, for whatever reason, am not convinced of your plans actually taking place or seeing any evidence of it forming.

why do i end up here? how do i escape?

i want to believe you are working here... i do. but it just seems too ridiculous, too... short of a miracle, you know?

am i just being too human again?

lord, help me with my unbelief.

:: dear church ::

Dear Church,

It may surprise you... sometimes it surprises me... that I am where I am today.

That I can still say I love you.

And, after all of this, you deserve one really good love letter.

It's difficult to describe how much I love you, but I want to take a stab at it.

You personify what my life is about.

My love for you does me in every time. When someone describes their passion for you, every church-related moment of my lifetime swells to my memory and sends my heart into overdrive. I can't agree with them more when they speak of their love for you.

So I write you, Church, because despite your flaws and despite my affair with disillusionment, I love you.

I love you because you are brilliant. You started out, as this fragile little group of disciples that almost no one thought would succeed. Yet you emerged as a force to be reckoned with.

I love you, Church, because you're accessible. You refused to limit yourself to just one group of people. Every one gets a personal invitation to join you. Sure, there are some barriers remaining, but I’m putting my money on you, Church.

I love you, Church, because you take action. Despite entertaining Advent choirs and mouthwatering potluck dishes, you aren't interested in the hotel business where people rent your rooms just to rest in comfort. No. You work to punt people out into the community, as if you had forgotten that you ever had walls to keep them in. You reminded them, week after week, that Jesus' favorite verb was "go". And I hope we stay committed to revisiting this lesson as many times as necessary.

I love you, Church, because you're learning from your mistakes. Even when nobody's looking, you manage to carry your shame and regret without losing the ability to hold your head high.

I love you, Church, because you are tough. Fear cannot cripple your commitment. I am convinced that your examples of risk will become the rock upon which your future is built. You will prove, again and again, that hell will never prevail against you.

I love you, Church, because you're resilient. You've been portrayed from so many unflattering angles. You've been laughed at, accused, ignored and misused. But you always get up the next morning ready to press on toward the mark.

I love you, Church, because you've never satisfied with where you are. You are constantly revamping. You always push yourself, examine yourself and trying to improve yourself from week to week. I can't wait to see what you will become!

I think more than anything, Church, I love you because of your flexibility. You started simple, known as a little more than a group of friends who lived, ate and prayed together. You once stood on trendy loft floors and now stand under traditional stained glass windows. You take root in the houses of the ordinary people, and yet manage to occupy the coffeehouses, pubs and business around the city. God only knows where you'll be next.

And as if all of this were not enough, this part is hands-down what made me fall in love with you in the first place: you defied logic by transcending physical space. You show up in a world that is not defined by steeples or crosses or truckloads of bricks. You set up residence in community itself, presenting yourself in the sometimes building-less "togetherness". You are the community, even when the community only boasts two or three people.

I love you, because I am part of you. Because when my friends and I are teamed in Christ's mission, we are you.

So I write - first and foremost - because I love you.

I love you still. In fact, I somehow think I love you more.

There is something powerful about realizing that someone or something is not perfect and loving them anyway. Sometimes, love is all the reason a person needs to stay in contact.

So I leave you with this final message: 

I love you. Keep in touch.

:: volunerability ::

the ability to feel connected. we're wired for it and that's what gives our lives purpose and meaning.

the funny thing is that when you ask people about love, they tell you about heartache. when you ask people about belonging, they'll tell you their most excruciating experiences of being excluded. and when you ask people about connection, the stories you hear are about disconnection.

perhaps the reason for this is shame.

shame can be understood as the fear of disconnection: is there something about me that, if other people know it or see it, i won't be worthy of connection?

shame is universal; we all have it. the only people who don't experience shame have no capacity for human empathy or connection. no one wants to talk about it, and the less you talk about it the more you have it. the thing that reinforces this shame, this "i'm not good enough"... "i'm not blank enough. i'm not thin enough, rich enough, beautiful enough, smart enough." the thing that underpins this excruciating vulnerability, is allowing ourselves to be seen, really seen.

and most of us know how we feel about vulnerability. we hate it.

there are two ways to relate to vulnerability. either you have a strong sense of love and belonging [worthiness] or you constantly struggle to know if you're good enough. the only difference between the two is belief. if you have a strong sense of love and belonging you believe you're worthy of love and belonging. that's it. you believe you're worthy.

the one thing that keeps us out of connection is our fear that we're not worthy of connection.

so where does this sense of worthiness come from?

a deep sense of courage. the original definition of courage comes from the latin word "cor", meaning heart. it means to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.

to have a deep sense of worthiness very simply means to have the courage to be imperfect. people with this kind of courage have the compassion to be kind to themselves first and then to others, because, as it turns out, we can't practice compassion with other people if we can't treat ourselves kindly. they also have connection, as a result of authenticity, and are willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be who they were, which you have to absolutely do in order to make a connection.

they also fully embrace vulnerability. they believe that what makes them vulnerable makes them beautiful. they don't talk about vulnerability as being comfortable, nor do they really talk about it as being excruciating. they just talk about it as being necessary. they talk about the willingness to say "i love you" first, the willingness to do something where there are no guarantees, the willingness to breathe through waiting for the doctor to call. they're willing to invest in a relationship that may or may not work out. they believe this is fundamental.

here's the thing. i have a vulnerability issue. and i know that vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and my struggle for worthiness, but it also appears to be the birthplace of joy, creativity, belonging, and love.

when you realize that vulnerability and tenderness are important, you have to learn to surrender and walk into it. but, in my experience, it can be a slugfest. vulnerability pushes, and you push back. however, i'm learning that losing the fight against vulnerability might not be so bad, because i'm beginning to win my life back.

i usually numb vulnerability. the problem is that i cannot selectively numb my emotions. i cannot say, here is the bad stuff. here is vulnerability, here is the grief, here is the shame, here is the fear, here is the disappointment. i don't want to feel these. i'm going to have a few glasses of wine and a banana split. when i numb these hard feelings, in affect, i'm also numbing my joy, my gratitude and my happiness. and then i'm miserable. i'm stuck looking for purpose and meaning, and i feel vulnerable... so i have a few glasses of wine and a banana split. and it becomes a dangerous cycle.

i make everything that's uncertain certain. the more afraid i am, the more vulnerable i am, the more afraid i become. and then there's just blame - a way to discourage pain and discomfort.

i pretend that what i do has little to no effect on other people. when, in fact, this is far from true.

and i perfect. but my job is not to perfect; it doesn't work. my job is to look and say, "you know what? i'm imperfect and wired for struggle, but i'm worthy of love and belonging".

i can choose to let myself be seen, deeply seen; vulnerably seen. i can choose to love with my whole heart, even though there's no guarantee - and that's hard, excruciatingly hard. i can practice gratitude and joy in those moments of terror, when i'm wondering, "can i love you this much? can i believe in this this passionately? can i be this fierce about this?" i can just choose to stop and, instead of worrying what might happen, say, "i'm just so grateful, because to feel this vulnerable mean i'm alive".

more importantly, i can believe that i'm enough. because if i can work from a place that says, "i'm enough", then i can stop screaming and start listening. i can be kinder and gentler to the people around me, and i can begin to be kinder and gentler to myself.

(adapted from brene brown's ted talk vulnerability)

:: trust your struggle ::

these words honor the fact that we all have struggles, and they contain within them the trust of knowing that all the effort and difficulty is in service of something. That we're exactly right where we need to be, no matter how painful or pointless it might seem.

struggles are the times in life when we get knocked down so hard; it's difficult to imagine how we're going to get back up. we often experience these times more often then we would like, but what we learn during those difficult times is that what matters most becomes the clearest. nothing brings out the best and worst in you like a struggle.

in the midst of challenges we generally decide to fight or run. if you're anything like me, when it comes to chasing your dream, you fight and you fight HARD!

trusting your struggle means having the faith to believe that whatever you're going through is for your benefit. there are character traits and skills that are developed in the midst of hard times that make you a better person and help you prepare for the fruition of your dreams. you learn exactly what you're made of and often times you'll find that you have more strength and determination than you ever imagined.

and knowing ourselves helps us to make better decisions, because we know what we truly want or need.

but how do you deal with the pain of struggle?

by being open to grace. grace manifests the possibility that there is something greater than the pain we feel attached to or caught up in. grace encourages us to find peace and perhaps joy in the depth of struggle.

we usually spend too much time focusing on getting things right, making things better or back on track, that we forget how much effort it can be to get soft, to let go and be at peace.

when pain comes into our lives we can either try to ignore it, which usually allows us to suppress it and eventually effects us on a deeper level than we realize, we can bask in it, which often leads to depression, or we can trust that our struggle is a side effect of a deep rooted patterns that we finally have the ability to let go of.

while there are days when you may feel down or depressed, realize that you don't need to feel lost. embracing the journey of trusting your struggles is actually learning to trust in yourself and the path you find yourself on. what you gain is a sense of meaning.

as we find trust and meaning in our struggles, we find that there is no reason to feel lost. we are simply part of a larger story.

in the meantime, learn to trust your struggle.

* I'll refresh tired bodies; I'll restore tired souls.

  Jeremiah 31:25 - The Message (MSG)

 

:: aperture ::

Happiness is somewhere I have been before-
A blurry photograph that I have since ignored.
I'll carefully adjust the aperture once more,
Until I set the record straight.

I'll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright.
I'll be an editor, no, a curator of light.
I'll let my better angels always set me right,
Until I even out the score.
Until I even out the score.

God, it has been quite a year-
I've lived a little bit and I've died a little more.
I know that I've asked it before,
But please let the scale tip here in my favor.

What was once the sweetest melody I've heard
Is now a memory reduced to little words.
I'll tune the orchestra and play the overture,
Until I pinpoint every note.

Give me the heart of an archeologist,
That I may dig until I prove that I exist.
A subterranean cathedral in my midst,
Where echos come to rest.
Where echos come to rest.
Is this where echos come to rest?

God, it has been quite a year-
I've lived a little bit and I've died a little more.
I know that I've asked it before,
But please let the scale tip here in my favor.

Until I set the record straight,
Until I set the record straight,
Until I can set the record straight.

- Sleeping At Last -

:: courage in liminal spaces ::

courage - noun
"the ability to do something that frightens one" or "strength in the face of pain or grief"

life is full of excuses and when we find ourselves in the worst possible circumstances we often convince ourselves that we're completely stuck and powerless. however, the reality is we're not. the future may be unforeseen, but we still have the power of choice. so take courage.

thomas merton once said, "how do you expect to arrive at the end of your own journey if you take the road to another man's city?"

so ask yourself… are you in another person's city?

are you too busy pleasing someone else's expectations? have you bought into the stories that were created for you - that this is all you can be; it's in your DNA, it's in your genes, you're stuck and there's nothing you can do about it?

are you worried that you may wake up someday and wind up living in someone else's city and wonder, how did i get here?

are you being true to your own journey?

consider the following list of the 5 top regrets of a dying person on their deathbed:

i wish...
... i'd had the courage to live a life true to myself and not the life others expected of me.
... i didn't work so hard.
... i had the courage to express my feelings.
... i had stayed in touch with my friends.
... i had let myself be happier.

the season of lent is liminal space - traditionally the time where you are to do your own hard work, some introspection… is this a life i want? am i suck here? am i so full of excuses that i don't have the courage to take a step in some other direction?

is this the season where you say enough is enough? i don't want to be stuck here anymore. i'm sick of making excuses and blaming my dna or past baggage, etc.

you don't know where the future is, what the future is going to be, but perhaps there's a choice you can make today - in this seasons of lent, this season of introspection - to change it. its a matter of taking one step out of your situation, where you feel stuck and powerless, and taking a tremendous act of courage.

because the very nature of faith sometimes looks like courage, and those first steps of courage are met with little moments of grace.

we have a long list of things, a long list of excuses, that keep us from the hard path. the path that's risky. its much easier to make excuses and stay stuck in one place.

god, give us courage this lent season to say "where you go, I will go" and trust that we will be met with the open arms of grace as we put one foot in front of the other.

:: love is hard ::

love is a choice, an ongoing and conscious choice, we make every day of our lives. it is not a feeling... and sometimes, love is a hard choice to make.

when we feel love, what we're actually feeling is a choice we've made that allows us to feel a certain way or not. that's how we control our emotions.

"love" is something never to be confused with the feeling of being "in love".

Love is not just a feeling. It’s a choice, a commitment, a way of behaving toward another. Love is not simply an event that happens to you. Rather, love is something you choose to do. The state of being in love is simply a prelude to love. But most people make the mistake of thinking they’re one and the same thing. We are all given circumstances by which we can exercise the choice to love. That’s the thunderbolt that God supplies. It’s that instant attraction to another person, those warm, fuzzy feelings, that fever akin to drunkenness or madness that causes you to know that you’re in love. But it’s what you choose to do after that thunderbolt has passed that matters. You choose whether you’re going to continue loving the other person after the drunkenness has dissipated, after the frills of romance have fallen away. You choose whether you’re going to continue to seek the best interests of the other person, and care about him or her through any and all circumstances — and for how long. Love is a conscious choice. ~ from the novel “Midwinter Turns to Spring”

love is a choice. when you think about the one you love, you subconsciously say to yourself, "i choose to love this person today", regardless of their imperfections.

when a relationship isn't working, you choose to put an end to it. after that, given an ample time to recover, you also choose to get involved with someone who’s like-minded.

at the beginning of a potentially great relationship, you make a choice to spend time with that person to have a glimpse of what can develop. you celebrate the fact that once again, you get to love a person and get to be loved the same way in return.

unfortunately, more often then not, people believe that love is something that simply occurs and happens unexpectedly. when in fact, as a relationship grows, the definition of love also grows with it.

love is both a noun and a verb.

love as a noun is the feeling. that waking thought of someone you love first thing in the morning until the end of the day. 

love as a verb are the actions you take in order to feel that way.

loving someone should be action oriented and consistent, in order for love to grow.

it's common for romantic love, or feelings, to become the basis for relationships and happiness, but it is often proven to be a hollow foundation because we later seek new emotional highs. basing a relationship solely on feelings and emotions proves to be fickle, and even more so when difficult circumstances arise.

love is a choice, it isn’t born but made.

love rings true when you decide to love someone during the tough times of a relationship, and is something to be celebrated when accomplished.

there will always be times when you feel like giving more or less love. there will always be times when you feel loved or not loved enough. when these moments present themselves, will you still choose to love?

isn’t it a more empowering way to love and be loved?

love is a choice… a choice to take action.

   Love never gives up.
   Love cares more for others than for self.
   Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
   Love doesn't strut,
   Doesn't have a swelled head,
   Doesn't force itself on others,
   Isn't always "me first,"
   Doesn't fly off the handle,
   Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
   Doesn't revel when others grovel,
   Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
   Puts up with anything,
   Trusts God always,
   Always looks for the best,
   Never looks back,
   But keeps going to the end. 

1 Corinthians 13:4

:: relentless ::

God, my pride, my expectations, my doubt are all clouding You from me, and me from You. I bring them to your throne, to your feet and lay them aside for your glory.

In exchange for your glory. Your servants heart, your desires, your ways, your will - not mine. My heart's desire is for you, to know you've passed by, to have seen your face.

I want you. I long for you. Show me your glory.

Break me in your presence, hide me in your rock, oh God. Do not let your promises be delayed a single day. Your word is true, a rock-solid guarantee and you do not change.

Speak to me. Let me heart your voice again. Show me your glory.

Though I am selfish and waver in unbelief, show yourself to me.

I am fully persuaded, just as Abraham was, that you do indeed answer when you say you will. Never late, never early, but always on time.

God, I won't relent until you have shown your glory in this place, here and now. I call heaven down. Your kingdom come as it is in heaven. Your will be done. Not mine, not my way.

Do not take this cup from me. Do not rob me of your presence.

Show me your glory. Show me your face.

I want to die to myself and be alive in you. Fully alive. Fully prsent. Fully in this moment.

Let me see your pillar of cloud. Shallow me in its'd depths and fog my worlf from view.

Show me your glory.

"Do not fear, Zion, let not your hands be weak. The Lord your God is in your midst. The mighty one will save. He will rejoice over you with gladness. He will quiet you with His love. He will rejoice over you with singing."

:: to love & be loved ::

Of all the things I could ever wish for, this would be it. I want to know - really know - love.

I get it with you, God; it makes perfect sense, but how does that make sense with anyone else?

Why don't guys prove themselves any more? Do guys like that even exist?

Am I the one who is disillusioned?

I want to know this love.

I feel like I've been taught to believe in fairy tales, grown up with the effects of dysfunction and now am left challenging my own standards!

Am I totally out to lunch in believing whole-heartedly that there is a guy out there, complete in everything I'm hoping and dreaming for, whom I am worthy of... or does my prince charming need to be knocked off his horse?

I wish I knew where the real men where.

The ones who know their God, who believe in something bigger than themselves and live for it every day. The ones who fight for what is good, holy and acceptable to Him.

The ones who live with passion and risk, goals and dreams, vision and truth. The ones who lead with the character of Christ.

The ones who laugh without shame, play for rest and love with reckless abandon.

Where are they? Where can I find them?

How can I attract one?!

God, my heart physically aches for him. I don't know how anyone could want to join me in my mess or how I could ever be ready for theirs, but I want it anyways. I want to be a righteous fox. I want to be captivating and loved.

Love me. Captivate me, Father. I want to know you more. Be patient with me as I work to restore my failing intimacy with you.

:: and yet ::

those two little words that always seem to follow any argument I seem to have between myself and God.
I get mad and frustrated. I bargain and beg. I scream it isn't fair and I whine because of my fears...

and yet...

I still hope. I still have faith. I still believe at the very root of who I am - what I know God to be. Faithful.

Suddenly "and yet..." become very precious words to me. They let me now that transition back to that good place is happening despite whatever darkness I find myself standing in. Because "and yet.." means I haven't really lost faith.

God, you know my thoughts already. You know I'm scared spitless. you know I'm inexperienced, under-qualified and uncertain. You know I'm afraid of what others think and the pressures I'm afraid of because of that. You know my past, my present, my dreams of the future. You know why my heart hesitates and hides. You know I'm terrified to trust myself again, even though you've given me no reason to doubt your plans for me.

And yet...

You know my desires are bigger than my inability to not shy away from this. You know my fears won't paralyze me from any victory I may have. You know I trust you. I know you're here.

And yet...

I still need your help (please!). Can you make this even a little bit less scary for me? A little less harder than I believe it to be? Can I just have a little more peace? A little more confidence? A little more reassurance?

God, it's time. I'm not telling you it's time, I'm simply stating that the time is here. It's now. It has arrived. I can feel it in my bones. It makes me nervous.

Please come stand beside me.

:: iron man ::

Iron man. That's what they were calling him. (That's what he was calling himself). A man with a severe chest wound, so badly damaged that it hides behind metal amour.

I'll admit, it kind of made me sad to think they were comparing this man's heart as being so badly impaired that it was encased in cold steel against his chest.

What kind of hero is that? A true iron man doesn't hide or disguise his scars. No, a true iron man knows the worth of his wound and wears it has a badge across his chest. That's what makes a hero.

God, bless that man's broken heart. Handle it gently and hold in firm in the palm of your hand. Be his armor and don't allow it to fall into a metal coffin. Help him bare his scars with honor. Raise him up to be a true iron man so that he may one day know the victory of the battle he so bravely fought.