When Tears Come...

Sometimes the ache is so big you can hardly breathe.
Sometimes the sorrow feels so real you cannot separate it from your skin.
Sometimes the movement in your soul
violates the peace,
the joy,
the radiance
He longs to display
within all those broken pieces.

Like a warrior
you fight
Hard and strong,
Swift and sure,
Noble and steady
in your aim.


And then there are days,
weeks,
months,
seasons where
the emptiness is too great to carry,
and you hide away,
fragile from the touch of the world,
lost in a sea of faces,
even the beautiful ones that hold you so dear.

The anguish burns away your passion,
your dreams,
your destiny.

Nothing to hold close
Nothing to draw near
to your heart,
your hand,
your cheek.

And there you stay
for awhile,
as sorrow burns pupils
begging to be released
from the torrent of angst that rages inside.

Until rebelliously
one tear
finds its way
down the curve
of your downcast cheek
past the carefully constructed walls
your heart has long held high.

When tears come,
words fall.

When tears come,
prayers spill forth.

When tears come,
peace floods the abandoned corners,
filling every crook and crack,
lifting shame and condemnation from the shoulders of the weary,
splicing pride and comparison with the very sword of truth,
breathing life into marrow
and felicity into dry bones
where dreams seem lost
and promises seem all-but-about-to-come-true.

And there the still small Voice speaks
with groans that flout intelligence
with whispers that quiet the dissonance
with Light that defies the darkness...

May it be well with your soul, My child, 
right where you are,
right in this season,
right in this moment.

May it be well with your soul.

"Oh yes, people of Zion, citizens of Jerusalem, your time of tears is over. Cry for help and you’ll find it’s grace and more grace. The moment he hears, he’ll answer. Just as the Master kept you alive during the hard times, he’ll keep your teacher alive and present among you. Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job, urging you on whenever you wander left or right: 'This is the right road. Walk down this road.'” 

~Isaiah 30:19-21 

Also linking up with these beautiful communities....
 Hear it on Sunday, Use it on Monday, Playdates with God,
 The Soli Deo Gloria party, and In, On, and Around Monday 

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

also with Michelle and Emily at Imperfect Prose.

So thankful for places like these to share our words together...

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?

Click here to see a list of all of the posts, updated daily.

If you do not want to miss even ONE day, please subscribe 

at the top of this post by entering your email address.

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

31 Days of Story {Days 15-17} A Vivid Imagination

After a whirlwind weekend in D.C.....I am just catching up and continuing to spend time with my best friend so the memories and stories written here have slowed, but I am determined to carry on....so we will just combine three days into one.

Hey, it's my 31 days, right?
I can smoosh them together if I want to, eh?

Let's kick it then!

**************************************************************

To say that I struggled being a missionary kid, especially during my teenage years would be a gross understatement. You can check the video recounting one of my brilliant adolescent moves HERE.

I hated being different.
Really and truly.
I just wanted to be like everybody else.
To blend in.
To just please NOT stand out.

But that was not to be.

At fifteen, there was no English-speaking school for me to attend in the curriculum that I had worked through my entire life, so I was forced to do a year of home schooling alone. My sister was in elementary school and was able to find a place to learn with other children.

It was not that I could not work well independently or struggled tremendously with the work. My parents were a great resource. It was socially that I felt so isolated and so very, very, very alone.

Mom would even find me talking to myself.
Okay so maybe not totally to myself,
Although she thought I was.

I was quite friendless in that season. Missionary kid pals all gone. Youth group friends in another country. So I would play made up scenarios in my mind or real life upcoming events I knew were planned. It was a world of imagination and play based in reality filled with timed laughter, heartfelt conversations, and adventurous activities. I could role play any person in my address book with uncanny certainty, facial expressions, and voice changes.

So I am sure I was a frightfully random sight when my mother would walk into the room in the middle of my class time to see me throwing my countenance and emotions to depict all of the characters running through my head.

"Lindsey, stop doing that!"

I jumped, caught in my secret revery, and immediately cried out in return, with tears welling in my eyes, "But Mom, I do not have anybody to talk to!"

"You can talk to me!" she exclaimed with desperation in her voice.

Tear fully running now, "It's not the same, Mom...."

That season did not last long as the following year a new school opened up that I got to be a part of.  But that time in my life of loneliness taught me a lot.

I learned that I did not like to be "alone," but I could.
I learned that I my imagination knew no bounds, and that was not a bad thing...for the most part.
I learned that my mom would be there for me in every circumstance...even when I had no friends.
And I eventually learned that being a missionary kid was not SO bad, but I am getting ahead of myself.

Come back tomorrow for more story!

Want to read the entire 31 days of story?

Click here to see a list of all of the posts, updated daily.

If you do not want to miss even ONE day, please subscribe 

at the top of this post by entering your email address.

Five {and a 1/2} Minute Friday: Brave

I want to be brave.
Brave enough to swim the English channel
Climb Pike's Peak
And travel around the world on a wing and a prayer.

I want to be brave
Brave enough to say I'm sorry
I forgive you
I love you
I need you



I want to be brave
brave enough to lay down my guard
to open up my soul
to boldly go there

I want to be brave
to be WHO HE created me to be
to write
to sing
to dance
to work
to play
to love

I want to be brave
Brave enough to be still
Brave enough to search deeper
Brave enough to cry without reservation

I want to be brave
Brave enough to demand answers
Brave enough to accept waiting
Brave enough to rest in the tension of the two


I want to fly higher
I want to dream bigger
I want to love better
I want to know the depths of me
and you
and Him

I want to face my own fears
knowing that I cannot change them
tame them
shape them
guide them
into a place where I am comfortable

But I can stand here
shaken to the core
wishing to be anywhere but here
And somehow
because He is with me...

I will be brave.

There is something about these Five Minute Fridays that....{shew}....just blow me away sometimes...plumbing the depths of my heart. I read the prompt but did not have time to write immediately so I let the word....brave...marinate in my soul...and this is me...so much of the REAL, RAW me in a way that I have a hard time doing because the analytical, incessantly-demanding editor in my head often demands his own way.

So I hope you will join me for my favorite writing time of the week and BRAVELY write your own 5 minutes...or at the very least...visit some amazing women over at

Lisa-Jo's...some of them I am even privileged to call "friend."

{RE}discovering Him :: Day 5 - The Lonely

Today, I sat with a friend.

We talked about weddings - hers, mine, our friends'
We discussed money, budgets, houses, and cars.
We pondered on children and the changes they make to your life.
We ate and laughed and chilled and relaxed.

I have missed spending time with people, feeling valued and safe, wanted and loved.
This season has been one of loneliness and desert time, some by choice, most by design.

But I know that God places the lonely in family, in relationships, in connection.

Today, I am thankful for those in my life who love me where I am at, in this strange season of "the sabbatical", of waiting to be a parent, of "undefined" health issues, and of not really "fitting in" anywhere at the moment.

And while I am aware that it is just a season, a drop in the bucket of time, it is sometimes hard to feel so alone, and yet what the Father promised me from the time I was a teenager was, "There will always be someone."

{RE}discovery :: I have not been abandoned by Jesus and He has given me people that love and support me, even when it seems that I am all alone. It is such a simple, basic thing, right? But sometimes, it seems like the simple things are the ones we forget so easily.

Or is that just me???

Previous - Day 4 :: The Loved

Next - Day 6 :: The Secret

I Know Your Pain

I know your pain.

You just received ANOTHER wedding invitation and you dread the RSVP -- Number attending __1__.

You go out with your group of friends and you wonder, "Will I be the 3rd, 5th, 11th wheel.....AGAIN???

You hear a woman complain about her husband's dirty shoes or dishes and you think, "At least you have someone to hold you before you go to sleep tonight....", but you say nothing...you DON'T want the pity!

You wonder how to survive in a world that seems focused on couples, marriage, & relationships.

You wonder how to function even in the Body of Christ that preaches and teaches FAMILY as the MOST important, primary, and basic institution that God has established.

I know your pain.

You see, I, too, have been there. I know what it feels like to cry yourself to sleep and wonder, "Father, have you forgotten about me? I have tried so hard to wait on Your time, Your plan, Your purpose? Am I still not good enough? When will someone love ME?"

I feel embarrassment in my questioning, yet I know that He holds my fragile heart and catches my tears....and then I hear Him whisper to me...."Remember the cross..."

"Father, why have you forsaken Me?" - Jesus

Jesus spoke those words? He was human? Like me? He was real. He was raw. He felt heartbreak. He felt pain.

He felt MY pain. HE KNOWS MORE PAIN. He not only holds my heart and catches my tears, but HE walked a mile in MY shoes and farther and farther and farther until every pain I would faced was walked out. NOW, He is prepared to walk the distance with me, to comfort me, to pick me up, to prod me forward, to challenge, and to encourage because HE KNOWS.

HE KNOWS!!

HE KNOWS YOUR PAIN!

And as I now feel another, deeper, harsher, more ravaging pain (for me personally) -- a greater longing, a chasm filled with unfilled promises -- MOTHERHOOD.

I remember. He reminds me.

"I have walked miles farther so your path would be lighter and your burden would be easy....REST, my child.....REST...."


"I KNOW YOUR PAIN."