alive.

oopsie... I've let two whole months go by, something I promised myself I wouldn't do. taking it slow for the summer- that's what I tell myself. ha. anyway, something I've been thinking about...

"stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive." (hafiz)

what a strange thought. sounds that make you glad to be alive? certainly things like chocolate chip cookies and hugs and art make me glad to be alive, but sounds? I thought about it, and here's my list. the sounds that make me smile, swoon, and make me happy to be alive.

laughter: easily my favorite sound. mostly little kid laughter. it's the ultimate joy. boo from monsters inc. and kid president are two of my personal favorites, but really any laugh is perfect.
drums: I think I must have been a percussionist in my past life. I don't actually know how to play the drums, but anytime I hear a rhythm, whether it is played by Travis Barker or a beautiful tribal people, it's like I can feel it in my bones. I just love percussion of any kind.
voices: that seems obvious. but I don't mean just one voice (although a good Southern drawl easily deserves its own place on this list), I mean many voices. at the same time. that kind of indistinct chatter that reminds you that while you're having your life and conversations, others are having their own equally unique, precious life right next to you, and you have no idea how or if your stories will ever intersect. I like the voices at airports, food courts, at Wal-Mart (which always seems louder than Target...?).

so that's just a few of mine. pick yours, and hold tight to those. on a sort of related tangent, it's officially summer, which means driving with the windows down, which means you need music. here's what I'm playing lately:

- I Lived, One Republic (but really, their whole new album is seriously fantastic.)

- One Grain of Sand, Ron Pope: I am basically in love with Ron Pope's voice. It has this little hint of conviction in it, and his best songs make me imagine him singing it to one particular person, pleading with them to believe the stuff that comes pouring out of his heart. And lucky us, we all get to hear it! Okay, enough gushing. You've probably known he was good since A Drop In The Ocean, but OGoS is more recent, and it's just as good.
- Blurred Lines, Robin Thicke, feat. T.I. and Pharrell: oooh, this is so great. I've had a teensy crush on Robin Thicke since this scene from Step Up 2. His voice is like buttah. Also, did y'all know Pharrell is 40?? FORTY. he looks like he's 20. fun fact of the day, I guess.

- Greenback Boogie, Ima Robot: Literally, I've been hearing this a lot lately. Only because it's the theme song for Suits, a really smart show I've been catching up on this week. Every time the title sequence plays, I like the song more and more. 

- Call Your Girlfriend, Robyn/Erato/Lennon & Maisy: okay, not sure where I've been since 2010, but this is a JAM song. love the original, love Taran Killiam's hilarious version, but I REALLY love Lennon and Maisy Stella's version with cups. I've probably watched it 34 times, and also I just finished Nashville Season 1, so basically I just want to be these girls.
- Old Pine, Ben Howard: anyone who knows me knows that So You Think You Can Dance is my most favorite TV show, because the choreographers and dancing talent are just out of this world, but another side benefit of this show is all the phenomenal music it introduces to me. This song is a great example, that I just heard for the first time on this week's show. It's kind of a perfect happy-hearted, chill, lazy beautiful summer song.

missing texas.

I am absolutely not a throwback thursday-er, but today I am SUPER missing last summer, and one of the most fun weekends of my life. If you know me, you probably know that I love baseball (more than a normal amount...) and that my number one life goal is to go to a game at every single MLB ballpark.

Until last summer, I had only been to the Trop and Turner Field, but my parents, being the awesome humans they are, told me to pick a ballpark and we'd go. I've long had an obsession with the Ballpark at Arlington, thanks to The Rookie, so it was an easy decision. So, on a muggy Friday afternoon after work, Dad and I hopped on a plane bound for Dallas.

I am not exaggerating when I say that every moment of the quick trip was perfect. It was one of those weekends where time moved slower, and we somehow fit so much life into 48 hours. We landed in Dallas just as the sun was setting (which was like 9:00... that was weird.) and found our hotel just as the Rangers' Friday night game was ending. We ate pizza on the balcony to a perfect view:

that's real life. it was absolutely the best way to get welcomed to arlington.

This was our view in the morning. I dare you to tell me that's not the greatest thing you've ever seen.

The next morning, we explored Cowboys Stadium. We got to see pretty much all of it... which took a while. They're not kidding when they say it's HUGE. Literally the biggest building ever. And the outside of it looks like Space Mountain. We got to play in the locker rooms and run on the field and see the luxury boxes... it was fantastic.

its HUGE, I tell you.

Then, after a quick trip to the Wal-Mart that was literally within spitting distance of Cowboys Stadium (which I thought was a little strange, but whatever.) we hopped on the cutest trolley and went to the Ballpark. It was starting to look a little stormy, but when the sun peeked out, it was probably the most beautiful thing ever: 

I wandered through the stadium, ate chicken fingers (of course), and then, because the baseball gods were smiling on us, we got to see a 10th inning. A Nelson Cruz walkoff double ended the game, and it was SO fun. Like, Bryant-Denny Stadium level of fun. 

We spent Sunday morning exploring downtown Dallas and the JFK assassination museum (not as morbid as it sounds, I promise), before boarding our flight home. It was a lovely, quick, perfect trip, and then Dad and I were both back at work on Monday morning. Sometimes, that's all you need: 48 hours of spontaneous fun and adventure. 

quiet authenticity.

Today I found a cool quote from a cool guy named Don Miller. If you don't know him, he's a fantastic writer who has written some great stuff like Blue Like Jazz and A Million Miles in A Thousand Years, and now runs a REALLY great site called the Storyline Blog. He writes of God's love in real terms, and he's not afraid to be controversial- which is something I like and don't like. I was reading one of his articles that could be considered controversial, but within it, I found a beautiful truth, like a nice little nugget of wisdom.

"I’ve also found that the more I trust in Christ’s redemption to be sufficient, the less overtly religious I am. And, quite honestly, the more suspect overtly religious people become to me. When I’m with somebody who talks zealously about faith, about Jesus, about the Bible, after a while, I find myself wondering whether or not their faith is strong at all. For instance, if I were with somebody who kept talking about how much they loved their wife, going on loudly and profusely, intuitively I would wonder whether or not they were struggling in their marriage. I would wonder whether they were trying to convince me they loved their wife, or if they were trying to convince themselves. (Now that I think of it, though, some of my favorite people talk about how much they love their wives, but these are less public proclamations and more sighs of appreciation.) Faith in Christ, for me, is similar. It’s intimate. I’m more comfortable giving quiet prayers, intimate prayers. Often alone, in fact. I speak of faith the way I speak of personal matters. Of course there is a time for proclamations, but that’s the key, isn’t it? There’s a time. Anyway, I love that the New Testament is mostly intimate letters written to small groups of people who met in homes. I like the quiet authenticity of our faith."
(from relevant magazine.com)

I've said it before, but I am immensely thankful for writers and storytellers and just normal people who share the most beautiful truths in the most honest ways. They say and write things in a way that I can think, but can never find the words to express. I can't add anything to these words, so I'll just echo them. Thanks, Don Miller.

today.

here is what i think today...

• that 78 degrees and sunny is the most perfect auburn weather.
• that life is better with red nail polish.
• that I wish I had a cooler instagram. (but on that note, a lovely edit to an also lovely article.)
• that amazon used DVDs are the best (Ramona and Beezus for $1.60. I KNOW.)
• that I'm glad I spent an obscene amount of time yesterday chalking my walls with quotes about joy.
• that I NEED to go back to tampa. soon. it was the best trip ever. get me to tradewinds + the trop, stat.

(taken by the pool after a perfect day of beach and baseball in st. petersburg. bliss.)

bitterness and joy, and the strange inbetween.

Brutal honesty: emotionally, I’m in a weird place right now. For about 98% of my life, I’m a calm, joyful person. But then, rarely, something happens that practically smacks me in the face. This week is one of those times. While the Auburn weather this week has gone from beautifully sunny to freezing rain, it's been weirdly reflective of my emotions.

I spent the past two weeks preparing and organizing for a large event that I hosted on Tuesday. Although I’d had excited expectations, it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. It wasn’t horrible, but I was just thankful it was over. I was so exhausted- but it really wasn’t over. I made a small mistake after the meeting, one that was only done with the purest intentions. In trying to help someone, I inadvertently messed up. (Trying to be anonymous here, but let me be clear: the mistake was about some tshirts. not life or death or grades or something serious like that. TSHIRTS. not a huge deal, right? nope, apparently, wrong.)

Although I immediately owned up and apologized before anyone had even asked me about it, and spent hours yesterday fixing the problem, I was basically attacked. I received an onslaught of angry, rude text messages from someone who, although she has no authority over me, felt the need to be incredibly, unnecessarily disrespectful. She told untruthful stories about me to people who actually do have authority and influence. Meanwhile, I was shocked. And literally shaking. My heart was beating about 100 miles an hour all day yesterday. 

So basically, it was a horrible, yucky day. But I am a firm believer that it always, always gets better, and I tried my hardest to cling to any little happiness I could find. Because God is so good, He provided me with little glimmers last night. My beloved Tampa Bay Rays won last night on a walkoff home run, and then 30 minutes later, my best friends came in with a Sonic Diet Vanilla Coke and peanut butter M&Ms (they truly know the way to my heart).

I had tweeted that I knew it would get better, even though I didn’t feel it getting any better at that time. However, God is definitely an “if you build it, He will come” kind of guy. (That is a horrible expression to describe God, because He’s way bigger than that, but I can’t think of a better biblical expression right now. It’s Opening Week, what can I say?) Anyway, I trusted and hoped and believed it would get better, and it did, a little bit.

I’m still not fully recovered from that shock and anger and hurt, but I found a perfect quote last night: “Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy, and keep choosing it every day.” (Henri J.W. Nouwen) So right now, I’ve moved from bitterness, but if I’m being totally honest, I’m not quite back to my usual joy yet. I’m actively pursuing it, and trusting that it will soon return to me.

___________________________________________________

PS- I mentioned the Rays won on a walkoff last night. And speaking of joy, this kid definitely has it now, in the form of a souvenir ball. This picture made me smile last night, even though everything else was going wrong. This is why I love baseball.

just because.

because maybe you had a hard day today.

or maybe you didn't, i don't know.

but you needed this, whether you knew it or not.

you're welcome.

stories.

During my senior year of high school, in AP Lit, we read a book called How to Read Literature Like a Professor. It's a lovely book, for the most part, written by Thomas Foster, that is funny and relatable and helps you understand symbolism and context and all those weird things that appear when reading the old classics.

However, Chapter 5 stopped me dead in my tracks. Here, Foster writes that "there's no such thing as a wholly original work of literature." He goes on to say that "there is only one story. Ever. One." This broke my heart and fired me up. I understand and love text connections, and I appreciate inspiration, but going as far as to say every story ever is the same? Not okay with me.

The thing I love so much about art is the individuality of it. Each of us can do our own thing, whether it's drawing or dancing or writing or just living, and it becomes our art form. We get to decide, and I believe that's how we each write our own story. So you see why Foster's claim that there's only one story, ever, in the whole world, and that nothing is original, shook my bones. To me, that seems so pessimistic, and I think it disrespects each artist's story.

What shocked me the most was when we discussed this chapter in class. Everyone else agreed with him! Each person is certainly entitled to their own opinion, but I remember sitting in class, listening to everyone say how insightful and observant this idea was, and it just made me want to squirm. I wanted to stand up and shout, "NO!!! WRITE YOUR OWN STORY! IT'S ALL YOURS! IT'S AS SPECIAL AND UNIQUE AS YOU!" Obviously I didn't do this, though. I expressed my disappointment through a politely raised hand and some calmer words. No one seemed to agree with me though, at least not verbally.

Here's my opinion: don't let anyone tell you it's all the same story. Because it's not. You write your story, whether that's literal or figurative, and believe that it's unique. It's yours, and your perspective and thoughts and the guts you put into it make it special.

Whatever people tell you, there's always another story. There's millions and billions of stories, and each is as special as its writer. Please, for the sake of art and creativity and sanity, don't ever forget that.

beating the scary stuff.

Let's talk about vulnerability. Everyone is scared of something, right? And not just like spiders or plane crashes or high dives. (although those are scary too.) At least for me, I'm scared of things much deeper than that. I'm scared of things like failure and disapproval and embarrassment.

What I'm finding lately, though, is that I have chosen a major that confronts me with the possibility of these things every single day. Graphic design is unlike any school work I've ever done. In most aspects of life, there's right or wrong, yes or no, black or white. But for me, design is like all the gray areas in between. There's no one correct answer in design, ever. And that terrifies me.

It's scary and awesome at the same time. I've noticed over the past year that sometimes I dread working on my design projects. I put it off, dance around it, think about it, but it's SO hard to start taking action. Usually when you dread a class, it's because you don't want to write a paper or study your notes. But I've figured out that's not why I push away my design work, because I truly love graphic design. I push it away because it's scary. It's scary because it can always be better. You're never really done. You can always push your design one step further.

Any art form is this way, and I believe that's what makes art so important and honest. What's tricky for me is reconciling this freedom with the university world of grades and critiques and GPAs. Luckily, though, the structure that grades and deadlines and classes provide forces me to face my work, and do the very thing that scares me the most. And for that, I'm eternally thankful.

after all this time...

... this is still my favorite. needtobreathe is one of my most favorite bands, and this is the very first song of theirs that I heard. it brings to mind so many sweet emotions.

this video is older, but they just released a new free EP today, which has the best version of "more time" that I've ever heard. get it here.

the last night.

Tonight was our last worship service in the current Church of the Highlands building. And by "building" I mean "old furniture store in a shopping center that includes taekwondo gyms and a strange deli." Needless to say, it wasn't the ideal location for a church that has thousands of people walk through its doors every week. I'm fairly positive we break fire codes multiple times each Sunday.

But no matter how small or inconvenient the space, it was ours. Rather, it was God's. Tucked away in the corner off Airport & Glenn, we sang from the bottom of our hearts, prayed with all we had, and loved each other more than you normally love strangers. Church of the Highlands was the second church I visited when I moved to Auburn, and I immediately knew it would become home. I'm so comfortable there that I even go by myself sometimes, because I would rather be alone & awkward than miss out on the incredible times we have there.

Tonight the walls were bare, the stage was cleared, and it was a little weird. It was a very intimate night of acoustic worship, but still incredible, and perfect in a goodbye sort of way. I found myself feeling the same way I felt when I moved to a new house in 9th grade. Mixed emotions, because although you're going somewhere newer and better, you're still a little sad, because you're leaving your home, where it's comfortable and familiar and easy.

So on Sunday morning, when we drive just a little farther down Glenn and park in an actual parking lot and enter an actual church building, it will become a new home. Of course, it doesn't really matter where we're worshipping from, because God is the same no matter where we are. The new building is not the church, we are the church.

God's already there, and I'm so excited.
This was the last hurrah. See ya, furniture store.

the helpers.

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.' To this day, especially in times of 'disaster,' I remember my mother's words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers- so many caring people in this world." -Fred Rogers.

Those are some really good words from Mister Rogers himself. This morning I had to turn in a paper on visual communication- basically the assignment was to choose a picture from a provided set of popular photos from tragic events that have occurred in recent years, and argue from an ethical standpoint whether or not the photo should have been published. The photo I chose was of a firefighter holding a burned and dying baby after the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing. And it's really appropriate that I just found this Mister Rogers quote tonight, because it's basically my argument for why this horrendous photo should have been published: tragedy brings opportunity.

Tragedy is unavoidable. We live in a broken, desperate world, and honestly, without the troubles in this world, we wouldn't be able to appreciate how perfect and whole Heaven is going to be. But here's what I think is beautiful about tragedy: it presents us with a choice. We can pout, get angry, or try to take revenge... OR we can get up, dust ourselves off, and do everything in our power to help heal, recover, and prevent. Instead of being the protesters, let's be the helpers. When we witness a tragedy, we have the opportunity to nudge away the pain in favor of caring, help, and selflessness. Out of tragedy can come triumph. And that is truly beautiful.

encouragement for the day.

"so go ahead. eat your food with joy, and drink your wine with a happy heart, for God approves of this! wear fine clothes, with a splash of cologne! live happily with the woman you love through all the meaningless days of life that God has given you under the sun. the wife God gives you is your reward for all your earthly toil. whatever you do, do it well. for when you go to the grave, there will be no work or planning or knowledge or wisdom." 
[ecclesiastes 9:7-10, new living translation.]

this passage makes my heart so happy. how sweet is it that the Bible encourages us to enjoy life and live it to the fullest, but to also understand that our time here is really just a little layover on our way to heaven? it's light, encouraging, and puts everything into perspective. happy valentine's day, sweet friends. know that I love you for all that you are and all that you've yet to be.

live forever.

let's talk about those images that stick with you. the pictures, videos, designs that you replay in your mind over and over, long after you see it for that unbelievable first time. i'll be honest, most of my favorite images revolve around sports. this is one of those videos where everything just lines up perfectly- the music, the concept, and the remarkable style.

so why is this video so cool? well, first of all, the fact that they were able to blend old NBA footage with current players is unreal. like, technology is so cool. but the context of the video is what really seals it in my mind. you might remember, the 2011-12 NBA season was delayed by lockout. finally, they formed a new collective bargaining agreement, the lockout ended, and the season was scheduled to start on December 25. Christmas Day basketball is a big deal anyway, but this year it was truly the best. Finally, after weeks of waiting, we had professional basketball again. TNT aired this video as the intro to their basketball coverage on this long-awaited day.

i loved the song used here, "Live Forever" by Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors, long before this video. but OH MY GOSH how perfectly the lyrics fit here. 

"take courage when the road is long.

don't ever forget you're never alone.

some people say faith is a childish game- 

so play on, children, like it's Christmas day.

I want you to live forever..."

we waited so long for this season, and it finally began on Christmas day. and thanks to some fancy technology, the NBA legends of the past are really living forever in this video. how perfect? if i didn't know better, i'd swear he wrote this song for this video. (he obviously didn't, it was released long before.) 

so anyway, here's the video. it was over a year ago, but i still watch it over and over. chills. 

(also, it won an Emmy. casual.)

pink skies and dry bones.

This one's been stirring in me for a while. I've spent weeks trying to untangle the thoughts and make sense of it. But I don't want to dilute the honesty of it, and actually, I don't think I'm supposed to be able to fully wrap my mind around this one.

In Ezekiel 37, a remarkable story is told. One that, if it happened today, would be bombarded with skeptics and doubt, criticism and hatred. Because it's a scary story- scary in the very best way. It's powerful and, by the world's standards, impossible. But in verses 1-10, we're reminded that the world's standards are garbage, completely worthless.

The Lord took hold of me, and I was carried away by the Spirit of the Lord to a valley filled with bones. He led me all around among the bones that covered the valley floor. They were scattered everywhere across the ground and were completely dried out.

Then He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones become living people again?" "O Sovereign Lord," I replied, "You alone know the answer to that."

Then He said to me, "Speak a prophetic message to these bones and say, 'Dry bones, listen to the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Look! I am going to put breath into you and make you live again! I will put flesh and muscles on you and cover you with skin. I will put breath into you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.'"

So I spoke this message, just as He told me. Suddenly as I spoke, there was a rattling noise all across the valley. The bones of each body came together and attached themselves as complete skeletons. Then as I watched, muscles and flesh formed over the bones. Then skin formed to cover their bodies, but they still had no breath in them.

Then He said to me, "Speak a prophetic message to the winds, son of man. Speak a prophetic message and say, 'This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Come, O breath, from the winds! Breathe into these dead bodies so they may live again.'"

So I spoke the message as he commanded me, and breath came into their bodies. They all came to life and stood up on their feet- a great army.

I think there's a reason this story is filled with so many visual details. God gives us the words so that we can mentally picture this dim and dusty valley, with pieces of bone scattered as far as we can see.

One summer, my mom and I bought this ridiculous 1500 piece jigsaw puzzle, and we literally spent weeks on it. Once it was finally finished, we left it on the dining room table for day. We were so proud of the work we put into it and how great the finished product looked. I imagine this is a little bit like God's work here. He took all those shards of bone, placed them perfectly together, then wove muscles and tendons and vessels throughout. When He was done with that, He covered each body with a beautiful skin, then probably added hair and eye color and all that just for fun.

But those were just physical bodies. If we're not careful, we can be just a physical body too. Because that's how we started out on this earth. But then, the second we ask for it, God's holy and perfect life-giving breath enters us, and we become so much more than just a body. God breathed into each of these bodies in the valley, and they became an army.

Can we just stop for a second and try to imagine God's power? Imagine watching this formation of bodies take place. That would have to be the coolest, scariest thing. Because God is more powerful than we can comprehend, when He uses just a fraction of that power, it sometimes freaks us out. Sometimes, though, we are awestruck by it. Since you were a tiny child, you were taught that the sky is blue. But what you weren't taught then is that every so often, for a fleeting moment, after a day that was maybe difficult or heartbreaking or wonderful for you, our sky turns orange, or pink, or purple, or red. Why didn't they explain sunsets to us when we learned that the sky is blue? Why didn't they tell us about this unbelievable phenomenon? Because at that age, like so many other things, we couldn't comprehend it. Just because you can't understand it, though, doesn't mean God doesn't show it to us. He shows us those pink skies day after day, just like He showed Ezekiel how He could give life to dry bones.

So often, life doesn't make sense. We can't understand the whys or hows. But the great thing is, with faith in Jesus, we don't have to understand. He doesn't want us to always understand. We can step back, acknowledge our littleness, and be thankful. How great it is that we have a God who takes care of us all, protects and restores each of us over and over, yet still has the time to breath life into dry bones and turn the sky incredible colors?

Thanks, God. Even if we don't say it enough, we love You. We really do.

do it well.

The Fray is my all time favorite band. I love their lyrics, their music, Isaac Slade's voice, and the fact that they come from Denver. Sometimes when I tell people this, they ask me if The Fray is a Christian band. I never really knew how to answer that. "Sort of?" I would say hesitantly. After all, they have songs like "How to Save a Life," which certainly seems to imply a Christian idea. They play it on Christian radio stations. But I never knew where they stood, until I found this article from thefish.com. Here's my favorite excerpt, with quotes from Isaac Slade, the lead singer, and Ben Wysocki, the drummer.

"The band avoided Christian record labels, saying God called them to the secular market instead. 'I feel he would be disappointed with us if we limited ourselves,' Wysocki says. Slade says he used to 'write all Christian lyrics' until he had an epiphany while working a shift at Starbucks: 'None of my friends outside the church understood any of my songs; we had a different set of vocabulary,' he says. 'So I went home and threw away all those songs.' He adds, 'If I handed somebody a double grande mocha latte and told them, 'Jesus loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life,' they might throw it back on me.' If we grow up in the church, it's easy to think it's our Christian duty to preach to every single person because God is the most important thing. And he is, but I'm a musician first. This is my job. We're not pastors. We're not preachers. We're not even missionaries.' Slade likens his job to any other. 'If you're a painter, paint, but you don't have to have Jesus in every picture. Paint well, and if you paint well enough, they might ask you why you do that.'"

I am so thankful for Christians who live like this. Unfortunately, there are too many people in this world who have been burned out on the church, too often burned by someone who calls themselves a Christian. That's why we have to be careful not to throw our beliefs in others' faces. Our faith makes perfect sense to us, but maybe not to others. Let's be willing and eager to share the love of Christ, but not overeager and annoying. Bob Goff once tweeted (and I'm paraphrasing) "if you leave your brights on all the time, you'll only blind and annoy people." God has given us each a specific earthly purpose, so let's do that, and pour ourselves into doing it well. From there, I'm just trusting God to provide the opportunities.

sonder.

sonder: noun. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own- populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries, and inherited craziness- an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you'll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
(from the dictionary of obscure sorrows.)

i just found this on a random pinterest to tumblr to website tangent, and it has absolutely captivated me. this is not a real word, so you won't find it in any real dictionary. but what a remarkable concept beautifully put into words. it's mind-blowing, fascinating, and a little scary. but seriously, how great is our God? like if you imagine "each random passerby"- God absolutely knows every single thing about every single one of these people. I'm still soaking this massive concept in, but wow. how lovely. thank you, God.

the unforced rhythms of grace.

To be completely honest, I've been putting off this post. Why? It scares me a little. It's something that I feel like is bigger than the words I can string together. I'm not sure I can do it justice. But it's been tugging at my heart, so here goes:

the unforced rhythms of grace.

my church at home has been doing a series on matthew for, like, forever. we've made it to chapter 11, and last week, we covered verses 25-30. i had the message translation with me, and verses 28-29 absolutely floored me with their honesty and beauty.

are you tired? worn out? burned out on religion? come to Me. get away with Me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. walk with Me and work with Me- watch how I do it. learn the unforced rhythms of grace.  

to be clear, I don't currently feel worn out or tired. but we've all been there at some point. and I'd heard this passage before, in a different translation. but it's that last sentence that stuck out to me this time. learn the unforced rhythms of grace. it sounds great- sure, I'd like to learn that. but how? and what are the unforced rhythms of grace?

a rhythm is constant. it doesn't change. in a piece of music, all the other instruments could change, get louder, or mess up, but the rhythm's always there. it's a flow, a habit, a sweet spot. once you learn a rhythm, it is, by nature, unforced. other things can come and go, mess up, or change, but I think once you're in a God ordained rhythm, He'll help you stay there.

grace. that could merit a whole blog of its own. what is grace? I don't think it can be easily defined, except with the name Jesus. that's really all it is- grace is Jesus. but how do we learn that? grace is complicated and beautiful, messy and soothing. I use philosophy's amazing grace body wash, and the bottle has a little story on it. mine says this: "grace is compassion, gratitude, surrender, faith, forgiveness, good manners, reverence... it's something money can't buy and credentials rarely produce. being the smartest, the prettiest, the most talented, the richest, or even the poorest can't help." so again, how do we get that? Jesus tells us in Matthew 11- we should walk with Him, work with Him, and watch Him.

the other night I was driving back to auburn, on 280, and I was flying through all the green lights. it was great. one of those awesome moments where the traffic gods love you, ya know? but then, I hit a red light. so I stopped. (obviously.) and all of a sudden, it hit me. even though I had been cruising through green light after green light, when I had to stop, I didn't mind at all. I found it kind of peaceful, actually, a quick little change of pace. I imagine this is sort of what living in the unforced rhythms of grace looks like. whether you're driving fast or slow, you don't mind. roll with the punches and take each moment as its own. if we can get to that place, Jesus says we'll recover our life and we'll rest in Him. what could be better than that?

in the quiet places.

about 97% of the time I'm awake, I have a song stuck in my head. always different, always random, and sometimes even more than one at a time. sometimes I wonder if I'm singing a particular song for a reason. today, it's been "winter snow"- an audrey assad/chris tomlin song:

could've come like a mighty storm, with all the strength of a hurricane.
You could've come like a forest fire with the power of Heaven in your flame.
but You came like a winter snow- quiet, and soft, and slow.
falling from the sky in the night to the earth below.
You could've swept in like a tidal wave, or an ocean to ravish our hearts.
You could've some through like a roaring flood to wipe away the things we've scarred.
Your voice wasn't in a rushing wind-
it was still, it was small, it was hidden.

here's one of the fun things about God: He can reveal Himself however He wants. our God is huge, bigger than anything we can even think about comprehending. but just because He can act in extravagantly grand ways doesn't mean He always will. He also acts in the tiniest, hidden ways.

lately I've been very aware of "the big moments," the times where you feel like you're supposed to be shocked and wowed by God. you know, like at church when they get the horns and drums going, the choir gets loud, and everyone's really fired up. There's certainly nothing even remotely wrong with those times- it's kind of like the closest we can get to returning those grand gifts God gives to us.

but I think we get so caught up in the loud times that it can be easy to miss the still times. the God we worship in the huge times and the great times is the same awesome God in the dark & quiet moments. that's why i love "winter snow" so much. God doesn't have to always act with tidal waves or roaring flames or massive, grand gestures. He also chooses to use those still, silent times. i think maybe that's when we're closest to Him, when there's no distractions or instruments. finding those quiet moments in this frenetic, chaotic world isn't easy. but i know when you find one, God will be waiting, with open arms and endless love.

back out.

Living on a sorority hall with forty other girls is such a fun thing. Endless closets, movie nights, all that good stuff that comes from an endless sleepover. But it also has a few drawbacks: there's occasionally some drama & chaos, and there's frequently volume. read: it's LOUD. almost always. which is fun 99% of the time.

Every now and then, though, it's good to back out. Say no to something, some event, and keep to yourself. You might miss some fun, a new inside joke, a hilarious moment. But what you find in that solitude will be even better: peace. quiet. stillness.

It doesn't have to be often, or for very long. Just take out a little space for yourself. Sit. Think. Talk to God. It can put things back into focus, and make you more thankful for the loud, crazy life that you live and love.

just... happy.

tonight i tweeted this:
"i am just really happy."

but then i got to thinking, really thinking, and i revised it. to this:
"thankful for those times when you get to be really just madly in love with life."

obviously, i am not the most eloquent person (see tweet A), but thankfully, my word limitation doesn't affect my happiness limitations. right now everything is just right, and good. when you're happy, it changes your whole perspective. like, that giant cement football stadium looks really beautiful lit up right now. or, goodness, these tortilla chips taste FABULOUS.

just my happy thoughts for the night.