I used to blog every day. Then, somewhere along the way, life hit me and my writing tapered off to a little trickle. Lately I’ve been trying to have two posts each week. So far it’s working out for me, but I feel a little disconnected…

I find I have so many things I want to do, but sometimes it piles up so high and I’m not sure what to work on, so I end up working on nothing at all. I think I’m going to try to work on this even more in the coming year. Finding clarity. Defining what it is I’m actually wanting, and then figuring out what is needed to move toward that. Even if I feel stuck, there has to be at least one tiny step toward my goals that I can take each and every day.

I’m also planning on practicing more self-care. I really struggle with the idea of self-care, and even that term/word. But I know I need it if I’m going to recover from any burn out I’ve dealt with, manage my emotions, and prevent any further damage.

So, clarity. I think that just might be my word for the coming year. 🙂 I haven’t fully decided on it yet, but that one seems pretty good. What’s your word to guide you this coming year?

Christmas Morning

Christmas Morning. I wake to a world of white. Untouched. Pristine. Everything around me has a stillness about it, and I savor that peace.

Christmas means many things to many different people. For some, it’s a time of busyness, a time filled with family and friends, hosting or traveling from one place to another. For others, it’s a sad and lonely time of year, with reminders all around of something (someone) lost and the emptiness that follows. For others, any variation in between, maybe even a mix of both.

I know my home will soon be filled with the smells of a delicious breakfast, and desserts for later. A quiet Christmas at home with my husband, as we’re snowed in together, enjoying the calm and quiet of a magical white Christmas. And for a moment, even if only for a moment, the world stops, and all around me is peace.

Wherever you may be today, I wish you a very merry Christmas. 🙂

Good And Best

God works all things together for our good, but that doesn’t mean that everything we have will be the best. I very strongly believe that God has a plan and a purpose for each one of us. His plan is the perfect plan, but because of free-will, we’re able to go off the tracks and create one heck of a mess of ourselves.

He works all things together for good, even the worst of things, though I think it still breaks His heart when we reject the best that He had for us. We always have a choice. Sometimes I resent that choice, because we don’t always make the right one.

We shouldn’t live in shame or fear, our God is greater than any other power in this world (or out of it). And He has conquered all.

I often wonder what my life could have looked like had I chosen to follow God from the beginning. I grew up in a Christian home, and I trusted Christ from a young age, but I didn’t always listen or obey Him.

God won’t ask us to do anything that isn’t for ultimate good, whether we can see it at the time or not. We can be so blinded by our feelings, other people, or things of this world, that we can’t see the fulfillment of His promise. We don’t realize the magnitude and awesome plan that He has for us, because we can’t see the whole picture, and yet, we try to take control and paint it for ourselves, when we only see one tiny little bit.

How many times have we messed up His painting?

And still He is patient with us and always ready to forgive. He is a kind and loving Father, beyond what most of us can know. He is the master Artist, will we give Him control? Will we let Him paint His vision, or will we try to muddle through and muddy up the design He’s planned?

God’s plan will prevail, but He makes adjustments for us along the way. I want the painting of my life to be as untainted as possible, because I trust the Artist’s vision, and I trust that He has a plan.


I’ve been doing a lot more reading lately than usual. I don’t read a whole lot to begin with, so that isn’t saying much, but it’s interesting how relaxing I’ve found this ritual. There’s something about sitting down, and allowing oneself to just drift.

Printed books also work so much better for this than anything online. I love not having the distractions of the internet right at my fingertips, maybe that’s why it’s been so much more relaxing. And who doesn’t like the smell of a book? Maybe I’m weird, I like the paper.

I think reading is something I want to make more of a priority in my life. I spend so much time doing useless and meaningless things, why not spend that time on something better? That said, I’m ashamed to say I don’t have a very good idea of what’s out there and will need more interesting material to read.

I’d love to hear your thoughts! What books do you recommend?

Writing To Heal

This blog has been my hope through the storm. A constant place of safety and reprieve. I started it right after a significant change in my life, and since then, though the roads have been bumpy and the skies have been stormy, blogging has been my ever faithful friend.

I don’t know how to describe what it means to be lonely, what it means to touch, to feel with more than just emotion. I cannot say what it’s like to be real. I just know that there’s something beyond simple words, or what mere phrases can capture. And for that I am ever grateful.

No one knows what tomorrow will bring. Tonight, a sunset hidden behind the clouds filled with rain, a light so orange, then pink, that it lit the sopping wet streets with a glow of fire.

Free writing is an outlet, a way to process, to feel the things that cannot be uttered in words spoken myself. They have to leap to the page to come alive, to find movement, and motion, to have a place where they’re safe and no longer have to hide. To be locked away, forgotten, that is the greatest misdeed. If our words are our answers, then the words are the key.

I can’t claim to know what any of this means. It’s a form to process, to heal. To find freedom, not condemn. These words, once forgotten, the bring forth a brilliant light, no longer small enough to hide.

How long till it’s over? How long until we begin? Are there more questions than there are answers? Of that, I am certain.

God is always the way. He’s always the answer. The question, it seems as though it no longer matters. The peace, that is what fulfills. All these words, cluttering up my empty page.

How they long to be free, just a vapor. Forgotten.

Not As Sensitive As It Seems

Introvert. INFJ. HSP. All labels to define me, to give me guidance and understanding for myself and why I work the way I do. These terms have all been crucial for me to understand certain aspects of me, and have helped greatly in my ability to give grace to myself.

For as long as I can remember I’ve needed space to myself. When I was little I’d sit in my closet to read. Not because I needed to in order to escape the noise or a shared bedroom, but because it was yet another door between me and the outside world.

Sometimes I feel like I fail as an introvert because I want to spend time around people (quality people, mind you). Sometimes I feel disconnected and like I’m not sensitive enough because I have some drive to overcome. But these thoughts are still perpetuating those false assumptions people make.

I’m so self-critical. I don’t know if a single day goes by without extreme self-loathing for all the ways I fail to measure up. I’m afraid to be a mother because I know I could never measure up to my mom. She was amazing at so many things, and did so much. And I have no idea how I could possibly even come close.

We all have our own weaknesses and failings. That’s part of being human. But sometimes I don’t really like the human part of me. Sometimes I wish I could be something (or someone) different.

I’m starting to feel again. I’m starting to feel for others again. And I almost don’t know what to do with it. But I know that God is faithful, and He will bring me through this too. This is the opportunity to learn and grow.

I’m also realizing that I value maturity. Not in the sense of taking on responsibility, but in the sense of wisdom and understanding. There’s been a disconnect between me and my husband because we think of maturity differently.

Some things have impacted me far more than I would like, others, hardly seem to phase me at all. I hate this about myself. Because, I don’t feel the things I want to feel, but I do feel the things I don’t. Like Paul I suppose. That’s the nature of sin. It eats away at us, until we’re hollowed out and have nothing left to give.

So many fuller post ideas in this. I don’t have the time or energy to go through and write them now. I have two minutes before switching to my next task. Oh yeah, I hadn’t mentioned, I’m trying out a schedule now. It’s mostly helpful I think. But this also allows me the space to process and take purposeful time to write.

Safe Place

“Hold it all together, everybody needs you strong…” I don’t know why it is, but I attract broken people like a moth to a flame. I think this is a common INFJ thing. (If you’re an INFJ, does this happen to you?)

I’ve had even total strangers confide in me about their struggles or look for advice. I don’t say this to gloat, I say this because it’s happened, and I’m not really sure why.

My husband tells me that one of the things he liked about me was that I was a safe person and am easy to talk to.

It seems that when crisis hits, people come to me to talk. I feel the pressure to save everyone, to be that rock, that solid anchor. But I can’t be. I want to be there for others so badly, but I can’t save them. I don’t have that power or control.

“Then life hits you out of nowhere and barely leaves you holding on…” I know what it’s like to fall apart and feel alone, and I don’t want anyone else to have to experience that. And it crushes me that I can’t just reach in and save them and take the pain away.

But God can.

Sometimes we need to step out of His way and allow Him to be the Savior, instead of playing God.

But God is our hiding place. He is our refuge from the storm. He is our safe place that we can run to, even in our weakest of moments. I’d like to think that I can show even a little glimmer of His love when people come to me for shelter. But my life is messy, and I feel like I fail at that more often than not.

I’m not strong enough to take on the world. And it’s such a relief to know that I’m not responsible to save everyone (very difficult to accept too!), and to know that all I need to do is share God’s love and the hope I have in Him.

I won’t pretend to have it all together, I don’t. But one thing I do know — God uses broken people.

Faithful Rain

It’s a beautiful rainy day today. Maybe one of the last of the year before winter takes over and snow begins to fall. It’s so peaceful, so cozy, and I’m thankful once again for God’s grace and goodness that He rains down on us.

I’m spending the day writing, maybe I’ll do some reading later on. Christmas movies play in the background, and a warm cup of tea steams beside me. I love days like these. They’re so restful and peaceful. And I’m so thankful for that peace.

It comes easier when we learn to notice the good. After two years of keeping a gratitude list I find myself recognizing the beautiful things around me more often. Inner calmness seems easier to come by, and I know this is the work of God. I’m so thankful for His faithfulness and peace. This contentment surpasses other types of generic happiness and fills me with gratitude for these quiet moments.

So today, as the rain pours down, I’m reminded once again of God’s grace and goodness. He nourishes us with exactly what we need. And He is always faithful, even when we’re not paying attention.


Yesterday, I was thanked for being a little girl’s advocate. We were in children’s church, and she wanted a snack, but was afraid to ask the teacher. I wasn’t even fully there to help, I was supposed to be taking photos. The lead teacher thanked me for being the little girl’s advocate.

I held her hand as we stepped toward the teacher and the big box of goldfish. She clung to me, uncertain and unsure. When the little paper cup was filled with her snack, I thought about taking it for her, but I didn’t. I let her reach to grab it. And I was struck with how God does that with us.

He leads us, He speaks for us, He takes our hand and He guides us to where we’re supposed to be. And then, when the blessing comes, we have a choice. Do we wish to take it, or do we recoil in fear? God is standing beside us every step of the way, but He doesn’t coddle us. He gives us the choice. Do we really want what we’ve so desperately pleaded for? Or are we asking God just because it’s easy?

I’m thankful for a God who loves us. And I’m thankful that, even if I have to reach out my hand, we have a constant advocate in Christ.