Five Minute Friday: Vivid

On Fridays here at The Little Missionary Girl, we slow the pace and take JUST 5 minutes to let mind and heart run free, to pour words onto screen unlimited by that relentless editor inside, to just soar with abandon and to see what comes....

This week......

VIVID


Life is full of color to me.
Bright hues of golden yellow
Sultry tones of deep red
Mellow visions of bright blues
Calming palates of rich green

Nothing is ever simple or plain to me.
Sorrow is keen.
Joy is unspeakable.
Pain is horrendous
Love is unfathomable in its depth.

I see the vivid nature in everything, everybody, every circumstance
How the tapestry weaves us all together
How our lives twist and turn and crash and even burn
to the rhythms of seeming happenstance
and yet....

The bliss of grace seems wild
Waving its banner high and true
in every moment and every breath
Alive and Real
for all to see
If we will only look
it is there
in all
its VIVID clarity.

Join me??

Who am I to Judge? {Relentless Grace}

It's funny how God reveals His character to you.
It's funny how He shows you when yours needs some tweaking.

And not funny-ha-ha, but funny ironic....funny surprising.

Last night, Arno and I sat down for Week 2 of our foster care/adoption training-certification classes. The room was filled with nearly 20 people, each with different motivations and agendas for taking these classes. Too many, it is personal -- getting back their grandchildren or a brother who is part of "the system." For others, like us, it is global, more generalized -- to make a difference in the life of a child/children. Whatever each individual's incentive, the general consensus in the room is a heart for children, a desire to help the helpless. It is kind of a beautiful thing really, finding this common bond beyond generation or race or religious affiliation.

And yet, people are still people and with the informal format lending itself to open discussion, opinions quickly come to the surface from those who cannot hold their feelings at bay and lay open, bare, on the table.

This study of people fascinates the psychology-lover in my brain. The group dynamics, the point-of-views of the various cultural backgrounds, and the way each one's desire to be there triggers a deep, raw place of BIG emotion amazes me.

We are not merely here in a class to learn.

We are here because we care and we care BIG and we care HARD

and sometimes the emotions are bigger than we can handle.

So as I quietly watched the dynamics unfold and listened to the opinions of others as well as to the continuing mantra of not judging others being repeated by the facilitator -- each other, birth parents, the social workers -- I realized that albeit calm and discreet in my mannerisms, my heart and mind boomed with emotions and opinions as large as any other person in the room.

As we drove home last night, I articulated to my love some of these weaknesses that I saw in my own heart, these judgments STILL there in spite of my own incredible journey of grace....

How could I think that my appraisal and examination of another's faults or weaknesses should be the measuring stick to which I hold another's value or worth?

And yet....what do I do when those ill-fated choices have impacted the life of a child negatively? In spite of my own barren arms, the momma-bear heart beats violently in my chest to rescue and to run away with this broken little ones to never be hurt again?

But where is the love?
Where is the redemption in my heart?

Where is the desire for restoration and reunification of the family?
Where is it in me, the one who has been hand-held on a pilgrimage of grace, who was broken open to understand how he redeems my broken places, and who continues to walk a path of relentless grace and mercy?

Who am I to judge?

....and I then realized that I am there for more than to learn to be a "good" foster parent....

I am on this journey to love MORE like Jesus.
To understand His unchanging mercy,
His propensity to redeem EVERYTHING,
His as-far-as-the-east-is-from-the-west grace

To allow Him to be RELENTLESS........

in changing me.....

into His image.

And I cannot help but smile.....

Yeah. He's kinda funny...this Father of mine.

Maybe even a little funny ha-ha.

Joy Dare :: Sorrow Revisited

In the past few years of my life, Sorrow seems to have become akin to my own skin.

Like a regular character in weekly drama, Sorrow maintains its burdensome role, weighing heavily, breathing its mantra into every moment until eventually the rules change, the story lines deepen, and promise & hope bloom all along the margins changing the very landscape of this creative, artistic soul.

And while I, with trepidation, begin to embrace Sorrow's role in my world, I am often still caught off guard when her dominance rules a uninterrupted space of time in my reality.

Like last week, when I found myself past midnight, adorning my aching body with coat and slippers and climbing into my van, shutting the door, blasting the heat, and unabashedly weeping.

I like to call it a cleansing cry.

Some people call it, the "ugly" cry.

Whatever you call it, my soul screamed for it in order to come out of that mournful place.

It took a cry, a drive, some alone time, and even a little Big Bang Theory to draw me into a place of emotional numbness to be able to then face it in a healthy, productive way.

Today, Ann Voskamp's words on anxiety struck me, challenged me in the fallout of that aching...

“'The stability of the world depends on the rejoicing in God’s works…. If on earth, such praise of God does not come to pass… then the whole order of nature will be thrown into confusion…'

~John Calvin~

Our worlds reel unless we rejoice. A song of thanks steadies everything.

The answer to anxiety is the adoration of Christ."

And then I remember...these gifts I am counting. This day-to-day ritual. This disciplinary routine. And so I continue to look, to see, to measure the beauty in the mundane and profound. To choose joy.

28) Grilled caesar dressing
29) Another woman joining The Joy Dare because of a 1000 gifts tweet chat
30) My key lime sparkling water {hits the spot EVERY time}

31) Homemade purses by the Haitian people as a self help program
32) Yummy snacks provided during our 1st foster care training session!!

33) My 14 yr old kitty cozying up in my lap when I come home
34) The pretty lights my sister installed in my bedroom
35) My cozy mattress with the extra foam built in picked out by my love and I when we got married 6+ years ago
36) Waking up next to the love of my life every day
37) The sound my kitties make when they want my attention or just for me to know that they love me
38) The soothing sound of my noise maker that helps me fall asleep
39) The sound of my mother's voice caring for her mother
40) Father giving me space and time when I needed it
41) In the discipline of counting, I find His grace
42) The grace I see in the sacrifices that my parents make with their lives
43) My new yoga pants
44) Ranch pretzels given to Dad to take back to Haiti with him
45) Pizza to share {It's not delivery....}
46) Watching Peni's Noah play and laugh
47) Hearing Noah's 5 month old sis, Molly, laugh as she watches him
48) Seeing my friend walk in her passions & her dream after years of waiting {mom & personal hair studio}

Project 365:: Week 2

Day 8 - Sitting on the floor trying to go "manual" with my camera

I'm a WORK in PROGRESS in this area. It's gonna be awhile!

Day 9 - Time to put away the Christmas tree....we always do it a "little" later

because it makes me sad to say goodbye to "my" tree

Day 10 - What I Wore :: New Brown Flat Boots from Journeys,

skinny jeans, rouched gray-green dress from Banana Republic, and

a black cardigan and knit hat with red necklace

Day 11 - First training session for foster care & adoption

certification. 1 week down, 8 more to go.

Day 12 - 2nd anniversary of the 7.0 quake in Haiti.

It meant SO much to the 4 of us to be together on this day,

so of course we had a little photo shoot.

{photos shot by my love}

Day 13 - Paperwork for our house continues...my parents

sign their part before they head by to Haiti next week

Day 14 - My old hunter boy, Morris, checks out the lay of the land.

{I love this kid... ;-) }

I'm on a journey to chronicle my life with a picture a day for a year. I hope to discover the world around me in my day-to-day life in a uniquely different way as well as learn more about my DSLR to better capture those precious moments. Linking up with my friend Paige and others who are taking this challenge too.

Five Minute Friday {And Then Some}: Awake

Photo by Julia Kellett

GO.

I am a night owl.
Always have been.

I was the toddler who crawled into bed with my parents every night until age 4.
I was the little girl reading by flashlight under her covers way past bedtime.
I was the teenager still awake with Mom saying, "It's getting late," and me, "I'll go to bed soon, Mom."
I was the college student with as much energy at 3 am as 9 am {yeah, I REFUSED to take those 7:50 morning classes}

And even now, I find myself always awake in the wee smas of the morning.
But often not by choice.
My body's aches and woes often cause sleepless nights and days where I need to sleep longer than what is deemed "normal."

And the different is hard.
The different hurts when someone says passing words like "sleepy head" or "you still in your pajammas" or "did you just wake up?" should they happen across my path.

And my heart feels pain.
It feels wrong.
I feel messed up.
Mis-made.
Unkempt.
My heart is awake to the different.
Sensitive to the sorrow.

STOP.

And then some....

I do not want to be wrong or perceived that way in a world that spins one way.
And yet, I have never been "quite right" based on the definition of "normal."
I am not the average girl-next-door, although I could pass for one on looks alone.

Now my life has changed. This penchant for night and 10 pm alertness seems only tempered by herbal remedies and intentional mental calm and still...

My body fights

My mind rages

Until I give myself grace....

until those words...

on a heart so sensitive to, so moved by, so impacted with every morsel, every bite on her plate.

So this is my choice.

In this moment.

To awaken the spirit inside of me.

To be...ME.

To let...HIM.

To go...FORWARD

Step by step

Inch by inch.

When necessary.

To live my life awake with the potential of WHO I am.

Who YOU are.

Who HE is.

To be fully awake every day, in His plan, in His purpose, in His heart beat.

Linking up with Lisa-Jo @ The Gypsy Mama, sharing my 5 minutes {and then some this week} without a lot of editing of fuss on a topic of her choice. Just enjoying the love of the written word and not worrying about perfection.

If you have never joined in, will today be your day?

Come on. Live Awake in this moment.

Won't you, please just play along with me?

This is MY story {Haiti Earthquake Revisited}

It's funny how some moments in your life you remember SO clearly.
How you felt.
What you were doing.
What the sounds around you were.
What people said or did.
The way time seemed to slow down.
Two years ago today was a day like that for me.

I had just fallen into that deep sleep when the phone rang, which wasn't really that strange to me, having lived the pastoral life for most of my existence. Groaning, Arno trudged out of bed to answer the incessant ringing of his phone after we missed the call on my phone. I knew something was off if someone had tried my phone first at 1 am. As the campus pastor, Arno's phone was accessible to people 24/7 but my number was not out there like his was. So I stumbled out of bed after him. As I hit the hallway of our tiny South African apartment, I think my heart bottomed out to the floor when I saw his ashen face.

"What is it? Just tell me," I said with that monotone calm that often surrounds my body when steeling myself for impending doom.

"That was Ben. There has just been an earthquake in Haiti,

and your sister cannot reach your parents."

Being an "oldest," my "I'll-solve-the-problem" drive kicked into gear. I pulled out my address book, grabbed my phone & computer and planted myself on the corner of the couch with the built-in ottoman, planning to reach my parents within minutes, to confirm how this whole thing was just "blown out of proportion" and then to go back to sleep to rest for the busy day ahead.

Little did I know that I would sit for hours in that exact spot, with little desire to rest or to eat or to drink or even to go to the bathroom. It's like time stood still for hours upon hours. My sister and I held a vigil over Skype that would last throughout my night {7 hours ahead} and hers. {Have I said, "Thank you!" yet this year for the amazing wonder that is technology?}

My emotions ran the gamut -- trust, fear, sorrow, worry, stress, faith, anxiety, hope, concern, belief. In those agonizing hours, I was so thankful for our upbringing of faith through the fire because my sister and I never spoke one word of negativity to each other nor did we listen to anyone who tried to give us fatalistic false reports.

We called and chatted and facebooked and Skyped and tweeted anyone who knew any shred of news, checking on our multitude of childhood friends and their families, hearing they were safe, or not, and then always, "No, we haven't heard from Mom & Dad yet. Would you ask your parents? Do they know what is happening on Delmas?"

Over and over and over again.
The same conversations.
The same results.

"We haven't heard from your parents"

"Parts of Delmas are impassible"

The presidential palace - picture from Boston.com

"Thank you. Glad you are okay," typed out on the screen seemed not enough.

How do you capture such a magnitude of dread and relief in just a few words?

You cannot....and really no one cared or expected it. We were all surviving in this kind of living statis, needing very little, wanting to just hear one line, "It's all a dream."

Yet, it would not be so. As the hours dragged on, the realization that this nightmare was now my reality became more and more apparent. So I steeled my mind towards dawn, dawn in Haiti. I rationalized, "The earthquake happened at 5 o'clock so Dad couldn't leave Mom and Carole to get to a phone because it would be dangerous in the dark, so as soon as he can in the morning, he will go out and find a way to get in touch with us."

So we waited. Me with this secret belief, "There will be an answer at dawn because it is always 'darkest' before the dawn, right? Right?" My personal thoughts rang hollow in my own ears and yet I held on to my conviction, able to snatch an hour or two of sleep, resting my faith in this dogged determination of mine.

And as the hour struck 6, and then 7, and then 8, my mind rationalized the realities, plotted street routes, worked out reasons why and where and what until finally I found my heart about to burst into the hysterical and my thoughts plagued with the worst conclusion, "What if they are dead? What if I never see them again?"

I heard myself say to my sister, "I have to get off of here. I am not thinking right any more," barely hearing her give me an answer.

Off to my room I went, and I began to weep from the depths of my soul, "You promised me. You promised me, Lord. You promised me that my parents would see their children's children. You promised me. It cannot end like this. I cannot lose them this way. I JUST saw them a few days ago. We had Christmas together. We picked out a tree. We celebrated. We laughed. Oh God, what if I never hear them laugh again? Please God, oh please, God. Please don't take them from me. Please do not let them be gone."

Then, right there, in the quietest and most persistent of ways, He flooded me with His peace, His love, His assurance, His understanding, a reminder that He IS who He says He is. And He tore back the fabric of time for just a moment and I could see them playing and wrestling with their grandchildren. They were strong and agile, not feeble or decrepit. They were most definitely ALIVE!

With peace in my heart now overpowering the relentless anxiety in my chest, I rose up from that place with renewed vigor and purpose.

However, the wait was not yet over.

One last hurdle of faith had to be jumped -- the moment my sister and I had to put our parents on the search & rescue list. It was like being in a Hollywood movie, watching actors play out parts in a drama that had now become my reality. I do not know how adequate words can ever truly thank Yvonne Trimble, Troy & Tara Livesay, The Labadys, and Keith Flanagan for understanding our compelling desperation, stranded miles away unable to forge ahead on our own to see the two we loved more than any other save our husbands, and setting out to give us answers....whatever that might be.

And finally and possibly the greatest moment filled with unspeakable emotion, when those 2 little words, "We're here," popped up on my screen from my mom's Facebook account.

Throughout the nearly-18 hours of waiting, words of love and prayers were feeding through on my mom's page, and while the encouragement was like a healing balm, the words of the enemy would say, "What if she never reads these words? What if this page becomes a memorial to them?" So the moment her chat window popped live, tears fell unabashedly down my face as simultaneously my sister and I typed, "Thank God!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The journey from that moment until now has been long and hard not just for my family, but for the hundreds of thousands affected by this horrible disaster, and yet, as I type these words, I stand in awe at the faithfulness of a God who SEES what we cannot see, who understands us better than we do ourselves, who knows the beginning from the end.

This is my story.

This is my song.

Praising my Savior,

all the day long.

This is my story.

This is my song.

Praising my Savior,

all the say long.

~Blessed Assurance

Joy Dare 2012

I started counting in 2010, these gifts.

I needed to.
To remember.
To look.
To see.

I didn't do it every week.
Or every day.

I just had to let the practice of counting come with grace, not legalism, until I could fall in love with the rhythms of the day-to-day noticing again. It took me a year and a half to collect 300 gifts on my way to reaching 1000.

And then this week, I read Ann's words, challenging us to a Joy Dare for 2012

"....the dare to slow down and wake up and receive all God gives for what it is — a gift. Take the the Joy Dare. Isn’t that what Aristotle said– 'We are what we repeatedly do.'

This crazy Joy Dare to do it all over again because I need it, to make this the habit before all the other habits — the joy habit — and count a full 1000 gifts in 2012. He deserves all my thanks and it’s impossible to give thanks and simultaneously feel fear. Woman with the soul amnesia — she keeps remembering and needing to remember again.

Just three gifts a day.

The whole earth is full of His glory.

And maybe I could make it crazier — by hunting, seeking, looking for specific gifts from His hand?

A Joy Dare to give all glory to Him?"

So in spite of my perfectionistic self that wants to "finish," I am enchanted with the possibility of 1000 gifts in one year, with the daily inspirations to look FOR gifts each day.

The joy of discovery.

The joy of wonder.

The joy of SEEING what I never saw before.

3 gifts a day...no pressure...no fuss...just noticing every day.

And if I miss a day of writing it down, this guide to remind me of what I saw but did not SEE is there to help me count.

I love it!!

Taking the joy dare to count 1000 gifts in 2012.

1) my laugh

2) my green eyes

3) my mind

4) The blue sky

5) Cozy blankets

6) Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream

7) "Thanks for listening to me"

8) "I can't wait to meet you one day"

9) "You encourage me, friend"

10) my C.S. Lewis book

11) my new lace-up boots

12) my new planner

13) Grace for the Good Girl

14) encouraging tweets

15) Must Love God (1st post)

16) my DSLR

17) whipped frosting

18) His grace

19) Mom's worry about not being able to help me clean like she wanted to

20) Arno's quiet in the morning to not wake me when he rises early

21) Kasi's {sis} sensitivity to my day-to-day ailings

22) The light & shadow across Morris & Mom in my pictures

23) The glimpse of that how that shirt fit better

24) The shadow made in the light of the front door

25) My hands that look like Mom's {and hers look like Granny's}

26) my Granny

27) piles of laundry, sorted and ready to be washed

Won't you consider joining me in counting 1000 gifts for 2012?

Click on the links above to download a guide to give you daily ideas.

Project 365:: Week 1

Day 1 - Starting off the year writing my first blog post

for Must Love God, a new site for wellness & hope where

I am a contributing writer

Day 2 - Lazy Holiday - My bokkie was suffering with a bad flu

Day 3 - On my way to work on a CHILLY day

Day 4 - Arno has worked SO hard getting all of the paperwork

for our house together. I could NEVER have done this without him!

Day 5 - What I Wore :: My new vintage shirt from my sister

and my new favorite lace-up combat style boots

Day 6 - During an afternoon of errands, my bokkie and I

strolled along this quiet downtown street

Day 7 - This is part of my DAILY life -- sparkling Key Lime or Lemon water.

I drink 1-2 of these daily.

I started this habit over a year ago when I cut out sodas.

I'm on a journey to chronicle my life with a picture a day for a year. I hope to discover the world around me in my day-to-day life in a uniquely different way as well as learn more about my DSLR to better capture those precious moments. Linking up with my friend Paige and others who are taking this challenge too.

Must Love God :: The Scarlet Thread

I am so excited, thrilled, ecstatic, ENTHUSIASTICALLY ready to share with you one of the beautiful new doors God has opened this year.


Must Love God is a brand new space where women can share their hurts, struggles, weaknesses, and brokenness together, as we learn daily to drink deeply from the living well. This site is meant to be a home away from home where you can bring your dirty "laundry", throw it in with ours, and we will wash together.

No judgments. No staring. No finger-pointing.

Just living water.

Changing water.

Life-giving water.

To this broken girl, in desperate need of His daily grace, on a relentless journey to stay submerged in His heart, I was SO IN to being a part of that.

So I am getting to write there today! Yay!

Won't you come on over and not only read my post, but stay there for awhile and meet some of the other REAL LIFE, BROKEN YET REDEEMED women?

Check out the forum where you can openly share your heart in a safe place and find others who struggle with the same things -- emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual -- or at least FEEL the same desperation.

A friend in college used to say, "Different circumstance; same emotions."

You are not alone.
Together.
We find our purpose in His love.

#MustLoveGod

So what are you waiting for? Let's go there together......shall we??

Five Minute Friday: Roar

I am woman hear me ROAR!

That is the first phrase that came to my mind hearing the prompt today.

It's kind of funny actually because I have walked through a journey of several years feeling like anything but the King, ahem, Queen of the Jungle.

But this year, God has transformed me, redeemed me, and now is taking me on a relentless quest to the depths of His love, the width of His grace, the boundlessness of His mercies.

I am thrilled for this pilgrimage, willing my mind to get lost in the rapture of knowing Him more. Longing to stand on the precipice of "those" moments in life and belting out that raging ROAR....

Because He is alive IN me, THROUGH me, ON me....
Because I have a purpose, a destiny inside of Him
That matters
That matters.

I am woman. Hear me ROAR.
Yeah.....
....I guess I am.


Wonder what this Five Minute Friday thing is all about? Well, here it is...in the words of The Gypsy Mama herself.

"The first Friday of the new year.

Let’s do it. Let’s just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.

For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Let your mind and your words and your heart fly free; wild – no editing, no over thinking.

Won’t you join me?

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – don’t edit; don’t second-guess.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Must: leave a comment for the person who linked up before you – encouraging them in their writing!

OK, are you ready?"

One Word 2012

"You won't relent until you have it all....

....my heart is yours."

I have been asking the Lord for weeks to show me the OneWord that He would have me focus on for this year. I have made lists after soaking in sermons, reading blog posts, meditating on various Scriptures, and listening to worship.

I have pondered and prayed.
I have processed and prepared.
My mind.
My heart.
My soul.
For what He has for me.
What He wants to speak to me.

You see last year, the year of Redeemed, transformed my life, and so that is a lot for this next little word to live up to, and I wanted to make sure it was His word, not mine;
His leading, not my direction;
His heart, not my will.

"You won't relent until you have it all....

....my heart is yours."

So, because I am ME, I psyched myself out a bit....and I realized I needed to take a step back.
And then I wrote a post on New Year's Day about my first lesson in grace, and I had a new bloggy friend tell me, "Maybe GRACE is your word for this year."

And I thought, "Really God? Grace was like 2010 and then has sort of been the underlying theme anyway..."

Then suddenly I realized..."This is my decade of grace."

(which REALLY excites me by the way)

That brought me to the place of asking the Lord,

"What aspect of grace do you want to teach me this year?"

On Tuesday night, I went to our church's annual Answer the Call, 21-days of corporate prayer and fasting, and in my spirit, I prayed that the Lord would show me His heart for me, my life, my family, my future this year.

And suddenly there is was.....

"You won't relent until you have it all....

....my heart is yours."

Relentless

Existing or occurring without interruption or end: persistent, around-the-clock, ceaseless, constant, continual, continuous, dogged, endless, eternal, everlasting, incessant, indefatigable, interminable, never-ending, nonstop, ongoing, perpetual, persistent, round-the-clock, single-minded, tenacious, timeless, unabating, unceasing, unending, unfailing, unfaltering, uninterrupted, unremitting, untiring, unwavering

His love is unwavering.
His mercy is endless.
His grace is indefatigable.
He is relentless.
in His pursuit of my heart
in His expression of His love for me
in His never-ending, single-minded determination to show me that I am HIS.

And He teaches me
to be tenacious in my relationship with Him
to be constant in allowing His grace to flow through me
to be dogged in my resolve to surrender my life at His feet
to be persistent in my journey of faith & trust in Him
to live perpetually in the grip of grace
to relentlessly remember His love holds me, His grace binds me, His mercy revives me daily.

He has been relentless to redeem my broken pieces,

even when I wanted to give up.
And I find myself caught up in His passionate tenderness

to me, for me, in me,

and through me.

This year.

2012.

A journey.

That is.

RELENTLESS.

Video imbedded - Click here to view

My First Lesson in Grace

It was kind of a quiet thing, a silent personal choice that I made.

Sitting in the hard-back blue plastic chairs wearing a yellow cotton, button-downed shirt with a green pleated, polyester skirt uniform listening raptly to the chapel speaker at my A.C.E. Christian school, I made a decision.

I would read a Psalm a day every night before I went to bed.

I felt kind of exhilarated tinged with hints of guilt that in my 9 years of life, it had not occurred to me before that I needed to diligently read my Bible every day.

So with a determination true to every budding perfectionist, I began my daily quest to fulfill my commitment. I loved school and lists and checking things off, so that first week, when I completed a chapter each day, I felt very successful, proud, complete.

And then, of course, life happened.

One day I got behind, and I just thought, "I will catch up tomorrow." So I tried, but I got tired and could not finish. So I tried the next day. And I still found myself behind.

After what seemed like an eternity, which was probably more like 3 days, overwhelmed and discouraged, my mom found me secretly crying in the corner of my top bunk, feverishly trying to make things right and catch up.

"What's wrong, Lindsey?"

"Nothing," I said as I shook my down-turned head.

She spies the open Bible in my hand, and with that mothering look of concern begins asking questions thinking that maybe it is something I have read.

Unable to hold it in any longer, I blurt out, "I am behind in my reading!!!"

With a puzzled look on her face, she coaxes out of me my decision, my commitment, and my feelings of failure, as I sob unconsolable.

After some love and hugs, I revive from my melancholy, and Mom looks me in the eyes, and pours these words of wisdom in my life,

"Lindsey, God is not mad at you for getting behind in your reading. He is happy that you made the decision to want to spend time with Him in the first place."

It was the beginning of my journey of grace that continues to be a life-long pilgrimage.

Sometimes I still have to remember that the fact that He loves me is greater than anything I can do for Him.

So this new year's, I have some commitments, some decisions, some plans, but mostly, I am stepping into my new year with a whole lot grace on me, in me, through me to do what HE has planned out for me.

His plans are always better anyway.

And I think I just might be okay with that.

“This is what the LORD says— he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” -Isaiah 43:16, 18-19