Five Minute Friday :: Stay

Will you sit with me here for awhile, My child?
Stay here beside Me.
Crawl up into my lap.
Quiet your heart.
Rest in the questions.
Embrace the unknown.

For you are safe.
Safe in My arms.
Safe in My heartbeat.
Safe in the shelter of the wings of My almighty arms.

Come to Me.
Stay for awhile.
Quiet your heart and soul
To the rhythms of Me
and my plans for you.

Rest in the knowledge
That I have you
I want you
I know you
I long for you.

You.
Are.
Safe.

You.
Are.
Wanted.

You.
Are.
Whole.




Will you stay?

Will you allow Me to share with you
the unspeakable things that the universe cannot contain,
the secrets of a world beyond this one,
the understandings of the place where deep calls out to fathomless deep?

If only you will stay for awhile,
close,
safe,
sheltered,
warm,

Trusting in My promise

To never leave
To never forsake
To never abandon.

Always to stay.

Welcome to my (in) This Season pals and ANY fellow bloggers really...would you share YOUR 5 minutes with me or maybe just a recent post that really speaks to your heart or a lesson that Jesus has been teaching you? I would love to read along...

31 Days of Story {Day 31} Coming Full Circle

So I could not break out of this inner quiet.
The soulful melancholy.
Not for long anyway.
{Read part 1 of this story HERE}

I would push the little extrovert out from her covered shell.

For moments.

Here.

And there.

And it was fun.

Do not get me wrong.

But mostly I felt a little off my game
A little insecure.
A LOT weird.
Kinda overwhelmed.

Until Saturday morning.
When I woke up feeling a little more settled.
A little more like myself.
I reached out to a couple of people I had not bonded with yet that I really wanted to, and we had a group lunch gathering that was just a blessing.

Then I talked to The Nester.
And cried.
For no OBVIOUS reason.
I even laughed as I cried because I felt so silly.
But she was gracious.
And kind.

But that weird up and down feeling inside returned.

So.
I stuck with my friend.
And we ended up in a room
with a couple of other ladies.

And this moment happened.
When one shared her brokenness
Her pain.
Her heartache.
And my spirit was quickened.
Because
I knew that space.
That sorrow.
That desperation.

Jesus opened my mouth
And talked through my vocal chords.
And right there in the Hilton Harrisburg hotel room.
We wept together.

We prayed.
And cried for breakthrough.
And then we introduced ourselves.
And laughed.

Because I did not know her
And she did not know me.
But Jesus knew his girls.
He planned this moment.
He had prepared my heart all weekend to be PRESENT
Here.
Now.

Not because the other ladies could not have handled it.
They are amazing.
And pastors' wives to boot.
So they were all over it.
But because His plan
Was to use me.

I could not be the Life of the Party at Allume
AND the Girl Who Could Recognize The Darkness
All in the same weekend.

Not this time.
It was not His plan.

There are seasons of LOUD
And seasons of QUIET
The quiet is not so easy for the extrovert

So I had to be pressed into THAT moment
And forcibly accepted my assignment for the weekend
even though it was lonely
even later
AGAIN.
When I found myself detached.

But then from that space.
I made two more heart connections, maybe even three, as the weekend progressed.
Right when I would feel sad and lonely and overwhelmed,
God would place me in the path of someone else
who needed that whispered attachment too.

I was coming full circle, back to the quiet little soul that had been birthed on the shores of the Caribbean Sea, back to the analytical calculations of this third-culture kid trying to understand the meaning of "belonging" and "time" and "goodbye", back to the deepest, truest, purest place where Jesus met this little missionary girl as salty breezes christened her tongue and mountain peaks eclipsed her vision, back where deep calls out to the fathomless deep, where my heart finds rest in a Secret Place called Home, in the shelter of His wings.

It was not the conference I planned in my subconscious little extroverted brain,
But it was the conference that HE planned.

Better than I could have imagined.

***

The past 31 days have been a journey in learning to tell my story.
It has been good.
And hard.

Some days I did not want to write.
A lot of days actually.
Sharing your story is vulnerable.
You give a piece of yourself away.
And it is scary.

What if no one reads?
What if no one cares?
What if I cannot do it justice with my written words?

But I wrote on anyway.
Because I knew that I must.
It was time.

I learned.
I grew.
I changed.
I am the better for it.

I hope you have enjoyed this journey with me. And if this is the first day that you are reading, I invite you to go back to the beginning and grow up along with me {quite literally actually!}.

This concludes 31 Days of Story.
But not the story itself.
Stay tuned.

With Jesus,
The best is ALWAYS yet to come.
You can bet the bank on that.

Want to read the entire 31 days of story?

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Also linking with Jennifer, Mary Beth, Ann, and Duane 
and the encouraging communities they have created here on the web.

31 Days of Story {Day 30} An Extrovert's Dilemma

Emily Freeman posted this quote on her blog yesterday....

“I’ve often done all I know to do to create space for God. I’ve spent time in prayer I thought was contemplative, I’ve said no to lesser desires to make room for rich fulfillment, I’ve knelt before God with the bread and wine . . . and for all my effort, I’ve felt only increased emptiness. Frustration. Silence. I created space for God and He didn’t fill it.

Or did He, in ways I failed to recognize because I was expecting something else? Or didn’t He, because I was arrogantly working hard, thinking He would be impressed and compelled to show up?”

- Dr. Larry Crabb, Shattered Dreams

I went to Allume with a bit of this underlying expectation....but just in my own special way.
Let me explain.

I am an extrovert.
I have been my whole life because really .... that is pretty innate.
But growing up, I was a quiet extrovert.
A contemplative soul.
Melancholy even.

However, by the time I arrived at Oral Roberts University, I was bursting to come out of my own skin.

I felt like every other freshman on my floor -- alone, scared, insecure, wondering-if-I-should-stay, and if-I-would-ever-fit-in.

So I thought about it.
Cause that is my M.O.

The Bible says if you want friends, be friendly.
Or at least that was what it meant to me.
So I talked to everyone on my floor.

I never got a roommate so I kept my door open probably eighteen to twenty hours of the day.
I am SO not even kidding!
I had a revolving door.
But I took it to the streets, er, ahem, the hallways, neighbors' rooms, even the bathrooms.
I chatted with people in the shower stall next to me, while we brushed our teeth, while...okay, I think that is enough of that example....

I asked questions.
Lots and lots of questions.
What is your major?
Where are you from?
Why did you choose ORU?
Did you have a good day?
What do you think of your professors?
How many siblings do you have?
What is your dream for your life?

And on and one it went.
I made friends.
I loved my floor.
We played together a lot.
We even planned classes together.
We got to know our "brother wing." {partner guy floor}
We crammed for humanities and biology and dozens of other exams, bonding and laughing and developing our own inside jokes along the way.

And suddenly, a whole year had gone by and awards night had arrived.
I was helping my Resident Advisor, Bloodine, sort through the awards, and as we organized the order of the certificates, I came across my name.

Most Talkative.

And I looked at my RA, heart crushed, trying not to be disappointed, as I held back tears.
She was like, "Lindsey, are you really surprised?"
With head bowed low, I nodded, "Yes! Because when you call someone talkative, it can mean that they get on your nerves and you wish they would shut up."
"I can NOT give it out, if you do not want me to?" she kindly offered.
I said, "No, I'll be okay. If it's the truth and people voted that way, you have to give it out. I am just glad I saw it first so I can prepare myself."

So we continued sorting through the remaining superlatives, and suddenly I saw my name again.

Most Encouraging.

Bloodine smiled, "See Lindsey...the floor does not mean talkative in a negative way. They mean it in a good light. So even though you talk a lot, you are always encouraging others and lifting them up and trying to make them feel better and more connected. The floor would not be the same without you and that is the truth."

I have changed a lot from that eighteen year old girl.
And in some ways, I am her all over again, every time I am in a new season.
I am still talkative.
And I think encouraging too.
But life has pushed and poked and prodded me a bit.

And now.
I am a little less extroverted.
I takes me a while to warm up.
I do not walk into a new place being the life of the party.
I may not be the most popular face in the crowd.
Sometimes I wonder if I am even a REAL extrovert any more.

But I am.
Cause I love being with people.
Almost all of the time.

I felt that way at Allume this weekend.
A little overwhelmed at times.
A desire to stick with the people I knew.
But also...I wanted to be THAT girl....THAT girl who asked questions and gave freely.
I watched my other extrovert friends do it....why could I not?
What was wrong with me?
What was holding me back?

By the time my junior and senior year in college rolled around, I knew half of the campus, although I did not actually realize that fact until my friends pointed it out to me. It had been a gradual thing, not a guns blazing the trail kind of impact. Little by little, one conversation, and word of encouragement at a time. One moment of truth here, one letting down the guard there.

And suddenly, I was that girl.
The one who knows people.
A LOT of people.
By name.

This continued on for the next 10 years in ministry job after ministry job.
I knew people and people knew me.
And I liked that.
I AM an extrovert after all.

So, I went to Allume having this unspoken expectation.
I will be the life of the party.
I have done it before.
I will do it again.

All the while, more consciously, I was giving myself a different lecture -- to listen more, to talk less, to observe, and to stay tuned in to the people around me.

I somehow thought that I would seamlessly flow in and out of these two very different roles....after all, God has been doing a work in my heart for the past two years, surely, He will miraculously make this happen.

You can probably see where I am going.
Both could not work out very well.
And thus.... a viscious battle ensued....

Come back tomorrow 

for the conclusion of my dilemma

{and my 31 days!} 

and how God orchestrated the kind of conference 

HE wanted me to have for one very specific moment 

on the last evening of the weekend.

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31 Days of Story {Day 27} The Comparison Trap

You could not help but like her.

Her Arkansas drawl, her ear-to-ear smile, her sparkling green eyes
.....and those pipes.

It was hard not to stop and soak in the melodies when this five foot two, perky Southern belle, belted out rifts that could rival Aretha Franklin. It was not uncommon to walk down the 1960's inspired hallways of our dorm and catch girls just standing outside of her door, listening to her practice her musical runs, like they were hoping to get just a glimpse of this star in the making.

 And me, well, I could not deny the overwhelming talent, Candee possessed, but my little heart was crushed and quite frankly, a little....scratch that....A LOT jealous.

Coming from a high school with a graduating class of eleven {oh yeah, you read that right} and a youth group of about fifty, I often led the pack in talent, personality, and character. The proverbial story of being the little fish now in a GREAT BIG pond is not a new one, but for the first time in my life, I found myself feeling truly uninspiring and vitally insignificant.

She was smart, pretty, talented, and funny.

She caught the attention of people, especially boys.
And I could not hold a candle to her.

Or at least, that was how my eighteen year old eyes viewed it.

Jealousy burned deep within my soul, and I hated myself for it.

But in spite of myself and more because of the Father's work in my heart, I took a leap of faith and faced my personal demons, supporting every musical audition, contest, performance, and endeavor for which her firecracker personality and powerhouse voice made space. Months went by until one day when she was the only white girl to be accepted into the Souls Afire campus choir, I felt something different happen in my heart.

True joy.

Sheer delight.

She did it! She did it!
I laughed to myself and I think I even did a little happy dance.

The taste of freedom sweetened on my tongue like ice cream on the 4th of July.

I was free from that ugly monster.

Truthfully and unequivocally free.

As we jubilantly frolicked off to celebrate her new soulful musical journey, I recognized that stirring in my heart to come clean. A time of confession was in order. I blurted out quickly, before I lost my nerve...

"Candee, I am have been jealous of you since I first met you. You are so pretty and you're voice is so amazing. The boys always notice and like you, and I just wanted to have all of those things like you do. But tonight, I don't feel jealous any more. I truly feel happy for you, almost like it was me. I am so sorry. I hope you will forgive me." 

She looked at me with sincerity,

"Oh my gosh, Lindsey. I...have been jealous of....YOU!!"

What?!?!?!?! I thought to myself. The idea was simply ludicrous. What did I have that she did not have? She practically light up a room when she walked in.

"You have this way with people," she carried on. "You always know how to encourage and the right things to say, and people REALLY like you and want to be around you. I wish I could be that way with people."

I started to laugh out loud, long and hard.

"Oh, Candee! Imagine what God must be thinking right now.....'My silly girls...just be who I created you to be. Stop comparing yourselves to each other and trying to be something you were not called to be."

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that

we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness,

that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant,

gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking

so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest

the glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,

we unconsciously give other people

permission to do the same.

As we’re liberated from our own fear,

our presence automatically liberates others.

~Marianne Williamson

Revisited from the archives of March 14, 2012....
Here are my friend Candee's thoughts after reading my original post...

"Literally crying at my keyboard 

remembering that conversation. 

To think it has been fifteen years...wow! 

Thanks for the reminder to be 

who God created me to be no matter what. 

Love you friend!"

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31 Days of Story {Day 23} When you realize that He's got you

Making decisions, especially BIG, life-changing ones, has always been hard for me.
Terrifying.
Dramatic.
Traumatic, even.

"What if I make the WRONG choice?"
"Maybe my plans will mess everything up..."
"This decision could change the ENTIRE COURSE OF MY LIFE."
"How can I be trusted with this amendment of EPIC proportions?"

Senior year was no exception.
Colleges.
Road trips.
Transcripts.
Applications.
Essays.
Financial Aid.
Scholarships.

Moving. Away. From. Home.
AGAIN.

Finally I landed on Oral Roberts University after painful, tear-filled grappling with my own inner voice of confusion.

In August of 1996, we packed up a 15-passenger van filled with boxes and things-that-make-a-dorm-life-liveable and travelled the 1,300 miles across the country from East Coast, USA to Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Somewhere around Ohio, I felt panic set in.

"Mom, how do we know this is the right decision? What if this is the wrong one? How are we going to pay for this? I didn't get that BIG scholarship we were counting on! I do not know if I should....if I CAN do this."

And my ever-practical mom, with infinite wisdom and experience at handling her dramatic, artistically, temperamental daughter AND having already kindly and mercifully fielded MANY such panic attacks ALL SUMMER LONG, said, "Well .... you are going for one semester now at least. We are halfway there."

And with that, I moved on to Claudius 6.
On the day the elevator broke.
Or at least was slower than the building of the Ark.
After my mom had sprained her ankle less than 24 hours before.

Dad, Sis, and I unpacked the entire 15-passenger van and hand-carried every bit of my belongings up six flights of stairs while my mom unpacked and began to make my room homey.

Oh, I remember those nerves, climbing the stairs, feeling every bit of the missionary kid that I WAS, running into to other students and parents in the hallways, awkwardly making connections, hoping I was not the only one who felt so ridiculous and stupid and embarrassed.

"God, what am I doing here? I do not belong here. I will never fit in. I am just a little missionary girl. People will never 'get' me. I will stand out like a sore thumb. FOUR YEARS?!? There is just NO way. I don't even know if I can do ONE semester."

And then I met her.
Doing her job in the succinct, precise way that I would come to know... and love.
My RA.

Bloodine.

The ONLY Haitian resident advisor on the entire campus.

Yes.
That's right.
Did you catch that?

THE.
ENTIRE.
CAMPUS.

Crazy, right?

I mean...what?!?!

And suddenly, I knew.
She was my fleece.
My gift.
My olive branch.
My reminder from Jesus.

"I've got you, baby girl. This whole deal is NOT random. I have planned every detail."

She became a lifeline to me in that year.
Her background.
Her major.
Her direct way of telling me what I needed to hear.
Her patience in listening to my NEVER-ending inner sagas.

I do not know WHAT I was worried about.

"When you move to the right or the left, 

you will hear a voice in your ear saying,

 'This is the way...walk in it.'"

Isaiah 30:22

Want to read the entire 31 days of story?

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Also....joining Heather at Just Write.

In the Tension of the Waiting

I mean to write more each week.
Like I used to.

I blame it on summer. On foster care prep. On planning fundraising for Haiti. On spending time with my family before they return to their life-long mission home.

Next week will be better...
When things slow down, my heart and soul will spill words out like wet paint from a fresh can's tip....
Once the summer is over, my schedule will get "back to normal"....

And on and on it goes...this big top mental circus filled with merry performances merry vying equally for immediate attention. And somehow my soul shrinks from the cacophony. I need stillness and silence, not in reality per say, but in the recesses of my being.

You know... where deep calls to deep.

But I often fail at allowing my heart and my soul and my mind to halt and to "go there" ....
Because it is scary and it is raw and it needs work.

How do you bare the broken before the healing is complete?
How do you show the scars when tomorrow they might break bloody again?
How do you give of yourself when "getting TO Him" seems a feat equivalent to rescuing the princess from the clutches of the fiery dragon?

Inside I feel small.
Insignificant.
Unimportant in the sea of artists, photographers, designers, administrators, counselors, professors, ministers, pastors, teachers, writers, mothers....

Juxtaposed is the heart of a warrior princess bursting to fly.
Longing to dream big, to follow rainbows to the pot-o-gold end, to dance on clouds Care-Bear-style.

The once-too-broken-to-ever-think-she-could-be-filled-again girl inside of me flaps her wings with impatience while the Great Physician holds still the body of that broken soul, willing strength into the bones for the latter to be greater than the former before letting the full expanse of the newness fill the sky.

And in the waiting, the girl both heart of warrior and heart of a child reaches to her Daddy, whispering words of longing and regret, sorrow and angst, desperation and pleading, forgiveness and surrender.

Where do we go from here?

Will I ever be ready again?

Am I forever to be waiting in the wings?

Where are you in your journey of waiting, of longing, 

of wanting to burst into your dreams, of feeling insignificant? 

What specific Scripture, mantra, prayer, promise 

do you hold onto in those moments? 

If you have none, feel alone, or simply long 

for the extra lift in this moment and space in time, 

would you slip your words into a comment 

or even in a private e-mail in the Contact Me link. 

I would love to share the broken moments with you 

and agree with you that God DOES 

have an answer just for you in the midst of it all.

Releasing To The Fall

I have long had a fascination with personality types, even as as child I think, though I may not have understood exactly what I was analyzing at that point.

The natural bent towards psychology in my undergrad probably seemed natural to most people, because of this, although I still waited 3 semesters before choosing it. AND then I added communications, too, double majoring. Somehow ONE interest alone did not fill my quest for knowledge and understanding.

I am sure that plays into my temperament as well.

With all the ways to chronicle character traits, long my favorite, Myers Briggs is the one that I continue to come back to because the more I read about myself and those closest to me, the better I understand them. The more I seem to "get" people around me. The world just makes a little more sense.

The Teacher.
The Giver.
The Mentor.
Depending on which site you come across describes the ENFJ.
Me.

I get lost in the accuracy of these descriptions and true to my personality, find a deeper understanding as well as REAL LIFE application the more that I learn....soaking up the knowledge like a sponge.

My friend, fellow-blogger, and partner ENFJ, Kamille, started off her most recent blog post about her newest family addition like this...

"I'm a natural optimist with a slight worry, anxiety prone bent. Doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense. What has saved me over the years is knowing Jesus. Ever since a small child I've been drawn to his goodness that never fails. I've instinctively believed in who he said & says he is."​

I felt myself exhale when I read her words.

"I am not alone in this paradox of trust and worry, joy and fear, love and hate."

It's scary sometimes to live and love so wildly and passionately with one breath and with the next cringe and long to crouch in fear with the anticipation of the unknown future.

I often find myself frustrated and prepared to pay penance for my dichotomous ways, especially in the wake of the ongoing traumas of the past few years {Haiti earthquake, unknown chronic illness, 4-year-plus-infertility journey, etc} where my fears and anxieties show signs of dominating the person I once knew and loved within myself.

So bottom line, setting aside the circumstances of LIFE, living in this polarity is well....HARD.
VERY.
VERY.
HARD.

To describe a daily need to stop and remind myself to breathe deep in-and-out like a motivational exercise video would not be an exaggeration.

It seems the older I get to more I realize, like Kamille, that I need Jesus.
Desperately.
Unequivocally.

And serving Him is often like a roller coaster ride with no harness, straps or seat, blasting into the sky, cannon ball style screaming and grasping for something to hold onto.

And when I look with spirit-eyes, there He is.
My Jesus.
Laughing.
Wind in His hair.
Flying high with me.
Arms around me.
Whispering...
"I've got you, babe."

There in that moment.
I learn ALL OVER AGAIN
To just let go.

*photo credit*

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Melaia turned to the waterfall
and watched the droplets
form, gather weight, and splash down.
Only in releasing itself to fall
did the water offer its cleansing gift." ~Karyn Henley, Breath of Angel

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The Miracle of the Little Things

"Ow!"

I said to myself as I woke up with this nagging thingamagjig moving around my eye. I blinked a bit and pressed my eye, and went on to get dressed.

I visited with my mom, met the French lady from California waiting in our house for her friend to arrive from the airport, baked cookies, and planned for the day. All the while, the foreign entity in my eye just would not seem to quit its persistent annoyance. We searched for drops to bring some ease, alas to no avail. I scoured Google for natural cures, imploying them immediately with vigor gaining only increasingly, severe irritation for my trouble.

With frustration and exhaustion, I collapsed upon my bed fighting tears and hysteria. {Sometimes reading Google DOES NOT help the psyche}.

Yet in the midst of the unrelenting aggravation, I couldn't help but think about those little things.

You know the little foxes that ruin the vines....

...getting rained on on the way to a meeting
...babies and pets throwing up on those newly cleaned floors
...constant nuisance of an invisible speck in the eye

Little agitations and frustrations fling unwittingly into the day and threaten to overthrow our sanity. Before we even know it, we find annoyances and hurts and anger to be our companions. They destroy our peace and shatter the cadence by which we move and breathe.

When no relief would come to my eye, I eventually fell into a fitful sleep, and when I awoke, the pain and redness and displeasure was completely gone.

I fought the rest because I had "things to do" and "came to Haiti to help" but apparently, for today at least, those were not in the plans.

Just like my body needed tears and rest to heal itself, so does my soul, my heart, my character.

And while the little things COULD destroy me, they could also be the very thing that lead me back to the safety of His arms, if only I take the time to trust in His ways.

"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.”

~Psalm 91:1-2

The Voice In My Head

There is no fear in Love, if the Love is real and perfect

 it overshadows all fears and Concern. 

~Author Unknown

The past few weeks, life has taken me by force from surprise party planning, foster care interviews, multiple vet visits, guest room prepping for visitors, general new move house stuff, emotional foster case meetings, and spending a fun, unexpected week with my parents in town on top of all the other day-to-day living stuff.

And somehow, even when I am sitting still, my mind races at a hundred miles a minute screaming at my body and soul to be productive or to make more lists. I feign relaxation on the outside in hopes of tricking my being into believing that it is actually resting.

I know my soul needs to breathe. I feel the words fill me up to the brim, bursting my insides with their heaviness and importance. Yet I cannot seem to find the right valve to release the inner battle that my soul undertakes minute to minute to find the much needed relief.

So I take a deep breath, inhaling in and exhaling out with calculated purpose, reminding myself that this body can only endure so much until it bursts and then I read these words by Emily P. Freeman....

Am I listening to the Voice of Fear or the Voice of Love?

She calls it the one simple question that changes everything.
And for me.
That is the truth.

Whenever the anxiety and pressures threaten to consume and overtake me, I asked myself, "What voice are you listening to?" And somehow, simply in the question itself, I find peace, knowing that His Love will guide me every step of the way.

I know.
It sounds so simple.
You might even me thinking, "I know this. I have heard it before."

But somehow LIFE butts in and we forget.
At least I do.

And I need a reminder that HIS perfect love casts out all fear.
And His love is ALWAYS perfect.
And His grace captivates every fear.

And just maybe you need to remember too...

We love Him because He first loved us...

I John 4:19

May your heart find a home today in His love that storms the fortress 

and His peace that commands the oceans.

Five Minute Friday :: Identity

I close my eyes and take deep, cleansing breaths.
One...Two...Three...holding as long as I can,
trying to count to ten in my mind.
I push out my abdomen and then finally release.
I repeat this over and over and over again until I feel that release of tension and anxiety from my body.

Removing it from my soul is another story...

I have teetered the balance between anxiety and peace my whole life, living in the angst of the two, never quite finding the place of rest or comfort that my being longs for.

I am a perfectionist.
I have an artistic nature.
I thrive in pressure
yet it overwhelms me too.

I'm complicated.

There. I said it.
The honest truth.

And yet somehow when I look deep, deep into my soul, deep into the place that only He sees and He knows....I see a little glimpse of what He sees and my soul counts to ten and takes a deep cleansing breath.

"O Lord, You have searched me and known me. 
You know my sitting down and my rising up; 
You understand my thought afar off. 
You comprehend my path and my lying down, 
And are acquainted with all my ways."
Psalm 139:1-3

I love Fridays because I get to 

just let my mind and heart and soul collide 

in FIVE beautifully scary minutes 

and see what words connect on this screen. 

And seriously, 

there is such freedom in this process. 

I just love it!

Oh please join me this week....

You can even just do it with paper and pen at home....

.....easy peasy! 

I promise...

...it will quickly become addicting!

Either way....

Happy Five Minute Friday, peeps!!

In The Shadows

I have a fascination with shadow and light.

I try to capture the essence of what each moment means to me,

the beauty that I see there.

Sometimes I get it right, and other times, the picture cannot hold a candle to the reality of the now that I feel.

I have spent a few years living life amongst the shadows.

At first the shadow was small, apparent, yet not overpowering, but the longer it lingered, it seemed to loom larger until another shadow appeared, making the first seem insignificant. These two shadows vyed for the light, each taking more, in a battle to win the duel. And still yet another appeared, and then another, threatening to choke every shard of light from my life.

The war waged on, and I fought and fought to stand in the light, to hold my ground, to hang on so that I could fight again tomorrow.

And then one day, it was too much, and in spite of the warrior heart beating loud and true in my soul, I retreated into the corner of the shadows, sobbing and gasping for reprieve from these insurmountable foes.

The shadows are a scary place. Lonely, abandoned, heartbreaking....most people do not enter into your shadows with you. Sometimes they just cannot and other times like a scared, trapped, little animal we hiss and scratch at them until they just simply go away.

For me, shadow or light, it did not seem to matter, I still felt alone -- alone in my fight or alone in my misery.

And now, the shadows are still there, looming around me. Every day is a fight, sometimes hour by hour, just to push my face into the light and to SEE His goodness, to glimpse His grace.

And then there are days when I just fall down with exhaustion and anger. "Why does living in peace and joy and grace seem to be so daggone hard?"

So I pull into the shadows, for just a little while, but I have learned, am still learning....

The light calls to you, even while you are in the darkest of shadows.

The Scripture says it this way....

Deep calls unto deep...

Psalm 42:7

As a young girl, my artistic soul was always moved by these words, but only now through a bit of heartache and pain, do I truly understand the psalmist's heartcry to the Father. My whole being resonates with these words because I know that the deep is the one in a dark place crying out to the deepest part of the Father's heart.

Like mine does.

In the shadows.

I do not know what shadow is overpowering your life today. Maybe you are feeling the loss of something once held or never known. Maybe you feel you have never experienced your life truly in the light of day. May I encourage you to find your hope in Him? Not because it is a cliche or because it is easy. Not because I have it all figured out or know all the answers, but because the light is calling out to you. If you really listen, you will even hear it calling you BY NAME. I promise.

Why am I discouraged?

Why is my heart so sad?

I will put my hope in God!

I will praise him again—

my Savior and my God!

Psalm 42:5-6

Read the entire Psalm here.

I promise the encouragement and REAL understanding

from the psalmist there will blow you away!

And just one more thing....please know ::

You are not alone.

Wherever you find yourself.

In the fight or in the shadows.

I would love to hear your heart on this in the comments or in an email {lindseyfoj (at) gmail (dot) com}.

Linking up with Imperfect Prose on Thursdays with Emily at CanvasChild.com.