I walk from the desert, seeing the light of sun again. Day has dawned, and I’m no longer surrounded by the dark.
My life lies before me. Empty. Yet with so much possibility of being full. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’ll chase it, knowing that fear is uncertain, and God always has a plan.
The threat of storms darkens the skies around me. I’m drawn into the black, drawn into the wind, and yet, something holds me back.
I feel a security now that I haven’t felt maybe ever. A hope that fills me, knowing this is not the end for me, knowing this is not the end of my story.
I have a hope for the future ahead of me. Unsure of the paths I’ll take, or how far I’ll walk. If I’ll get lost and turned around again. But I don’t need to wrestle, and I don’t need to wander. Sometimes, I just need to stand. Be still. And stand.
It looms ahead. Empty promises have never given me assurance before, and they won’t now either.
I cling to the truth, to the Words I know will last. And I know that His love is greater than this. And I know that His love, is greater still.
I step into the waves, this time unafraid. I know that there’s great power in the water, but there is greater power in my God.
The storms have not overtaken me, they haven’t yet, and they won’t be able to. They have not been given that authority.
My fate rests in the hands of the One who created me. And it is in Him, I will trust. If He asks me to enter the waves, then that’s what I will do, trusting that He will lead me through the storm, over the water, and into a boat, safely to shore.
Life doesn’t often take the turns we think it will. One day blends into the next, and before we know it, we’re standing on the ledge of something we never could have imagined. Good or bad? That all depends.
Where is our perspective? Where are we looking? Do we look straight down to the giant drop, or do we look out over the horizon to the beauty of God’s creation?
Faith or fall? Doubt and fear, or awe and wonder?
We don’t always choose where we end up, but we get to decide how we respond. Do we want to dare dream for greater things, or do we imagine the worst possible scenario?
Whatever comes in this life, I want to always remember that God is faithful. And He blesses us far beyond anything we could possibly imagine.
It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly through the trees and I feel peace. I want to get outside and take a walk. Being out in nature is always so peaceful, so relaxing, it’s like a reset.
I miss having a porch, a place I could go and journal, write, and let my mind just drift where it went. Back and forth.
Yet it’s a reminder to be thankful for the things I do have. I still have a nice apartment, I still live in a location where I can get out in (some) nature. And for that, I am thankful.
I’m thankful for the life I’ve been given, and for the ability to walk. For the ability to see the world around me, and to feel the fresh air.
It’s moments like these I’m able to be in the moment, and for that momentary ability, I am grateful.
What things are you grateful for today?
New hopes light the horizon. I don’t know where my life is going, I haven’t for a long time now, but I’m finally feeling (again) that I’m starting to get a grasp on some of the things it might be.
I’m a planner. I hate not having a plan. And yet, my life has deviated so far from my plans that I haven’t been able to see a way forward. I’ve felt so destabilized, so lost. And yet, there’s been some measure of comfort.
If my life had followed my plans, I wouldn’t have realized my absolute need for and dependence on God. I’ve had so much pride, so much security in things that I couldn’t control, thinking that somehow I could. But I can’t.
I still don’t know what the future holds, and I’m apprehensive of making plans, afraid they’ll fall apart again. Maybe I haven’t realized that until now. I’ve been drifting, but still so incredibly controlled my fear.
Maybe this is when it requires a step of faith. Looking out to the horizon, uncertain of the future, or where I’ll end up, but still moving forward, moving in a direction toward the light.
I’m feeling that undercurrent of anxiety again. Work tasks pile up, and I’m left spinning in the aftermath of changing deadlines and interactions that didn’t quite come together.
What do we do when we’re stuck on the shore, looking out over the edge, knowing a storm is on its way, and knowing that life is so filled with other things, both necessary and desired? We don’t have time for the storm to hit.
And yet, there’s relief. Knowing that no storm lasts forever, and this too shall pass.
I guess I’m feeling a bit scattered today. Uncertain how to best move forward. Knowing that somehow I need to stabilize and get a grip on this boat that rides the waves.