hope

the beautiful interchange

the beautiful interchange

Some things are meant to be buried, to break and remain broken. Jesus has broken the power of sin, our shame has been laid to rest, our chains from our places long devastated are now free. Those things will not be undone. But what about the things we lay in bed at night wondering if there is any hope of life still beating in them? The dream we try to suppress because the fear of failure is too loud, the friendship/relationship that once was, then broke and is now seemingly portrayed as silent strangers, the hope of freedom out of a tedious cycle we can’t seem to step out of long enough to fully live in the freedom Jesus has fought for us…

choosing love

choosing love

Pain radiated throughout my veins. A current so sharp, I couldn’t feel it anymore. Numb. As if my body has undergone anesthesia. I was walking away from the deepest desire my heart had ached for. The dream of walking down the aisle to a man I chose to love and who chose to love me. The dream of having a teammate in this thing called life, someone to adventure with and go out into the world with all for the name of Jesus .

Then, a collision of my worst-case scenarios happened. It all happened about as fast as it took for the rug to be pulled out from underneath me. 

hurting with hope

hurting with hope

I couldn’t take my eyes off of the crystal clear water. The way it glistened back at me, in some ways, I felt seen. I felt understood. The sunlight bounced off the white foamed waves and warmed my soul. It reflected pieces of me that have been burned like wood and ember. Wounded by words and weapons aiming to crush and destroy. But they haven’t.

The Mexican water seemed to understand the depth of my pain. Like it did see me, like it was saying, “me too” with each sway and crash onto the coarse rock below. The resilience of the emerald movements moved my heart in hope.

nothing but nothingness

nothing but nothingness

I can’t believe it’s over. After all this time of planning. Mountain highs and valley lows. It was everything I had hoped for and more. Beauty surrounded me at every turn, wonder restored at every outlook, and love experienced with each deep breath.

My heart ached as I walked down the corridor. Memories flashing through my mind like reels from a movie, words replayed like a favorite song on repeat, longing to go back to moments memories just can’t do justice. Sometimes none of it seems real. You wonder if it actually happened the way your memories remember.

fighting for spring

fighting for spring

"What about the ones whose souls aren’t in a season of spring?"

I couldn’t help but ask the question as March 20 rolled around, the first day of spring. Spring inevitably ignites emotions of new life, hew hope, new beginnings. And why wouldn’t it? It is a beautiful season where color is brought back onto the canvas of nature, sun filled days last longer and warmth begins to move through the air with just enough of the winter’s crisp air lingering. But this year, as spring came, I couldn’t help but to think about everyone who is fighting for hope in a new beginning.