1/14/10

I’m the kind of girl who would write her name all over it, match the colors to the ones I like, start drawing a curving line without knowing how many curves I will rashly make of it and where I would eventually end it. It’s more exciting and unpredictable that way, I think. And if it ends up being an ugly curve, I’m not the kind of girl who would throw it all away—I would only perfect it.


Then I would call it mine.


I am strangely dissatisfied when I cannot put roots into something.



There’s a different light to me right now (many have mentioned it).
Something of a more quiet somber,

but I am not worried, neither am I unhappy. I am content in a most different manner.
Yet with all that I am,
I am waiting on God.

I am waiting so much for him to tell me where to dig, where to invest, where to put my energies and passions toward. I am zealous.

I am bent on giving and creating. I am waiting for him to tell me where to give.
Where to create. Where to invent these visions.





Speak to me God.


It isn’t a dissatisfaction, but a longing.
It’s like I’m standing still and the world is spinning around me. I can’t hold on to anything or be in one place for too long because it’s all temporary. And in all the madness, in all the changeable sights and scenes, I’m just waiting to see something beyond physical sight. I am waiting to see this sparkle that will incite an explosion in my mind.

And I’m waiting to hear a voice that speaks quieter yet out-speaks the others.



I am anticipating a finish.




I’ve never been afraid to go after what I want.
The challenge is, God….what should I want?

let go

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven...

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend...

Ecclesiastes 3:3-7





"So piece together these little mysteries,
it isn't hard to see the writing on the wall.
Triump and tragedy, only God can be
both the builder and the wrecking ball."

-Jill Phillips, Wrecking Ball

And when you hold me, I start unfolding

The death of you brought the life of me, so I can only pray that the death of me will bring the life of You.





"Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, there should be an inner knowing that directs you toward an expected end." -T.D Jakes.