imagery.

I've got this generated quote box on my igoogle and I enjoyed the imagery of today's quote so much. Lately I am learning how to show my love to God again. This was a great reminder of His wonder..

"Think of my trees stripped of their beauty, pruned and cut bare yet fruit a thousand times better for the pruning arise. You are in the hands of a Master-Gardener. He makes no mistakes about His pruning. Rejoice."

a quick note on some things I am learning

1. the unexpected can be a very wonderful thing.

2. being surrounded by such genuine and loving friends couldn't be better

3. being in the pits during thanksgiving is probably the worst because I don't feel like eating all that yummy food!

4. the heart might break a little more before it can be put back together

5. a spiritual battle is just as exhausting as a physical one

6. hearing the God's words refreshes you from the inside out

7. I make pretty great garlic-cheese biscuts

8. we don't need to 'do' we just need to 'be'

9. recognizing how much you appreciate your friends is important, saying it to them is even more important.

10. the arts is so important to each of our lives, discover it.

wabi-sabi

I always get the same surprised response when I tell people I cannot wait to be 50. This is definitely something that is not very respected or honored in our American culture at all. When I think of reaching 50 I think of all the journeys I will have walked, the valleys high and low. In just a years time my mind and heart grow and change so much, I can only imagine at 50 what woman I will be. The lines that will progressively grow deeper into my skin I will wear with honor and as each new line reveals itself I will understand even more the mercy and grace of the Lord.

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I could not have put this in better words, this below was taken from an article on the beauty of age:

The Japanese language has a specific word for the beauty that comes with age, sabi. The term refers to the concept that changes due to use, age, or wear may make an object more beautiful as well as more valuable. This incorporates an appreciation of the various cycles of life and the careful, artful mending of damage. This term has been combined with another Japanese word, wabi, into the phrase wabi-sabi, which means, "a beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. It is a beauty of things modest and humble. It is a beauty of things unconventional. The closest English word to wabi-sabi is probably "rustic". Things wabi-sabi are unstudied and inevitable looking, unpretentious and their craftsmanship may be impossible to discern." This type of expression would be used to describe the beauty of a cracked pot, tarnished metal, or even the wrinkles on an old woman's face.

This is my reality.

"Peace is a ladder up to the clouds, that I'm wishing I could climb but I don't know how"

-N. Gundersen

Time keeps moving and no matter how much I do I am always standing still. Living for yourself is not what I thought I recognized when I looked through the lense of others lives. I saw happiness and success, accomplishments and perfection that seemed mastered by these idols I stood beneath.

But what they do not tell you is once you know the love of our Savior, His jealousy for you and mercy that flows like a river, well, once you have known, there is nothing better. So I run in and out of hours turning into days and look back with regret of why I did not spend time with my father today. I cannot seem to fill my days with enough to drown out this conviction riping at my seems. I need the love of my Savior to find me again. But is that how it is suppose to be?

I thought I could not let go of this control because the vulnerability hurt too much. I am seeing that vulnerable or not, living with my father hurts the worst of all.

Rescue me

Rescue me

Rescue me

RESCUE ME.

My new obsession

I've had my hands on two of these novels and could not put them down. Picoult is an outstanding author. I did not seek out this author, but had the great opportunity to find her in what i might add is my favorite class this year, Educational Psychology. 19 Minutes was my first Picoult book. Torn out of reality when I jumped in the pages was something I hadn't expected to find. After a great ending I rushed to find another one. In the airport last Saturday I found Picoult's Handle With Care (the only book of hers for sale in that whole airport). This seeming to me more like a mother's book I almost didn't pick it up. But knowing the experience of the last book I thought I would give it a try. In 4 days I finished Handle With Care. Upset over the ending I searched blog after blog for someone who related. What I found though, was not reassurance that this author might not of been as good as I thought she was, but I found a theory that made perfect sense and an almost perfect author. I'm ready for the next 500 pages of a Picoult to carry me away..but choosing what will come next will be an adventure in itself. How will the next Picoult come to me..?

[seem⋅ing⋅ly] 1.in appearance but not necessarily in actuality

What you need to do is FIGHT through the apathy and find that this is only seemingly impossible to reach.

I began to write this by saying, 'I could not recall the last time I felt secure with the Lord' but in the middle of that almost positive sentence I was taken back to the memory I lived almost a year ago.

Another desperate attempt to heal that gaping wound I somehow could not find on my body, but felt the pain of all to often. And as if I had never felt heartbreak like this in my life I wept and begged, searched my brain for solutions to something that I later would find out (again) would be better torn apart. This chamelleon could not change to a color I did not recognize anymore. Instead of analyzing, yet again, where this went wrong I let the full tsunami of guilt destroy me.

Being peeled of the one thing I trusted to keep me safe left me with the realization that I did not think of my safety as in the Lord anymore. I'd found safety in this emotionally-charged love I thought would suit better as my security because it had an existence I could see. But what I had not reminded myself of was that this love was conditional. With that understanding now, I turned to what I knew I should have never left behind in the first place; God. Getting back to Him was not a smooth sail, but rather a drumfire I thought I could never survive. Even though it came to fighting mountains higher than I could see, fighting to understand this unconditional love again was the only thing I knew would bring me out of this.

This began my radical journey of faith, which some might not deem as radical. But for my world this was the journey that I will look back at to remember; even when my faith has fallen between the cracks there was a time when I cried out to God for days and only heard Satan's voice in return, then when I thought there was nothing left I asked one more time, and my Father's voice reigned in over every inch of my existence.

And as if that faith would extinguish the pain, I still could not find where my wound was. And that began another search fueled by the very enemy that was blinding my wound from sight, but making sure the pain was very much alive. So, as I trace back around this circle and find myself at the point of reckless abandonment (again) and overwhelming heartache (again) I conclude to remember the faith I received in conquering a battle I think to be one of my biggest because I could not stuff my emotions down into the depths of my body, by the time that thought came they were already spilled out all over the floor.