There are nights when I sleep with my bible next to my head like a safety blanket, because I want the tangible presence of the Lord. I want the Spirit's nearness.

how can I show You that You are what I want?

I want Your nearness, Baba.

I know in the bottom of my bones that You're my goal. You're my Love.

So Baba, make me soft. Make me grace-full.

I'll move across the ocean for You, with You. But never without You. Never without You.

unfinished

I hold hope in my hands
like a spear,
like the world is a jungle
and the only tool I have to stave off hunger
is this hope.

Reality, he is the bright morning star,
finds me at dawn, huddled close
to my small fire.
He takes my hand

and whispers,
my love, you may not hold this hope so close.
put down your weapon;
come feast with me.

You may hope for an Italian nonna
to teach you how to cook traditional pasta recipes,
you may hope for an Eritrean sisterfriend and
for an abundance of Afghan brothers.
You may hope for a close team,
for another teammate next year.
You may hope for stunning sunrises and laughter.
These are the things you may hope for.

Put down your spear my love,
it will not serve you here.
All you need is a fork.

Hope this way,
come feast with me
in the bright morning.

Exhortation 9.16.15

You are not an ant.
You are allowed to make eye contact.
You are allowed to connect.
You are allowed to live
in such a way that will make the world wonder.
You are allowed to look
past the facade and see
the beauty and pain beyond.
You do not have to hide
your inside beauty from the world,
even though the majority
will never understand
or receive you.
Don't let that stop you.
Whimsy is beautiful.
I've made you beautiful.

I sat down at the river for a loooong time today, and I felt this. And I wrote it down.

Also, Acts 1:8

I've come to this place of realization that if I did quit, because no one knows how frustrating/stressful/hard this is, I wouldn't be angry with myself. And I wouldn't take crap from other people about it. And I wouldn't try to justify my actions to everyone else.

Happiness is Saturday morning phone calls with Sarah.
It is walking down the street with a balloon.
It is spontaneous birthday plans.
It is ominous grey clouds and wind, enjoying cooler temperatures.
Happiness is pop music on the radio as I drive around town.
Fuzzy socks and rain boots.
A dog friend.
Time to veg on the big chair with a blanket and some BBC.
Enjoying a fresh haircut.
Anticipating future plans.
Being.

World, do you know that I am happy?

Really, truly, deep-in-my-soul, marrow-of-my-bones happy? And have been for a long time, happy?

World, do you understand that sometimes I become sad, or angry, or confused, or despairing, but it always dissipates and the deep, giggly, full happiness bubbles back up?

Do you know that?

How to Deal with the Sad. Again.

• Run.
• Paint your nails a fun color.
• Go BE with people. Laugh. Play a game. Eat a meal. 
• Enjoy the rain.
• Sit in a beautiful place and read some psalms, out loud. Pray them. Change the pronouns.
• Wash your hair.
• Make art.
• Listen to classical music- make classical music.
• Wear polka dot socks.
• Dance.