quiet.

"The LORD your God is with you,

he is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

He will quiet you with his love,

He will rejoice over you with singing."

-Zephaniah 3:17

For years, I have turned to this verse as a source of comfort. In bitter times and in sweet times, this verse has always had the power to evoke some sense of security and safety for me - words that can make the soul smile big and take a deep breathe. Pretty words have that affect on me. It wasn't until I actually experienced the words that I realized what they truly meant. 

"He will quiet you with his love"

The feminist in me fights with the idea of anyone quieting my voice. The logical side of me rolls my eyes because when has the female brain ever been known to be quiet? The rage-against-mainstream-christianity piece of me is irked by how often this verse is slapped onto a hard situation as to avoid actually having to enter into someone else's pain and sit with them there.

But that's not what I came to this beautiful, empty, white space to write about.

My thoughts have the tendency to go haywire. My emotions have the tendency to direct my entire day. My fears have the tendency to paralyze me. And all these things mixed together have the tendency to turn into lies that I have the tendency to believe - then I forget the truth and God's voice of light gets lost in the dysfunctional brokenness of it all.

And the only way to return to reality is to let God quiet me with His perfect love.

He quiets my anxious thoughts with His love.

He quiets my debilitating fears with His love.

He quiets my unpredictable emotions with His love.

He quiets my constant stream of processing with His love.

He quiets my desire for control with His love.

He quiets all these loud booming voices so that I can hear the whisper of His love for me - the certain security of His relentless love for me.

He quiets me so I will listen to the only Voice { this Voice of love } that actually matters.

the power of stories.

I've been intrigued recently - intrigued by this idea of stories. Books have always been like entering into Narnia for me...this passage way into another world, another life. Reading and soaking in page after page after page of stories: adventure, love, injustice, friendship, war, travel, heartbreak, justice, enemies, beauty. The list goes on and on. But these aren't the kind of stories I'm talking about. These stories, while beautifully and thoughtfully penned, aren't always the ones that grasp your soul.

I have become obsessed with stories. Real, raw, messy, true stories of actual people who have actual faces and breath actual breathe and are living their story fully. The kinds of stories that are only a piece of this messy reality we find ourselves in. The kinds of stories that hit our gut because we see ourselves there. Or maybe we don't see ourselves there and sometimes that can hit just as hard. The kind of stories that give hope. The kind of stories that show wounds. Stories about love, joy and dreaming. Stories about heartbreak, pain and disappointment.

"It's never as black and white as we want it to be...Especially when someone's story gets injected into the conversation. All of a sudden, it gets messy. But it's better if it's messy, I think."

Too often, we hide our stories. Our real stories. Our voices are silenced by the rising call for perfectionism in the world. So we have learned to live behind the protective walls of the stories that sound nice. That are heart warming. That bring a smile or a laugh.

But what about the other half of our stories? What about the stories that we can't tell without tears springing to our eyes? What about the stories that still break our hearts to think about? What about the stories that show brokenness - our own, another's or the world's? What about the stories that don't have a happy ending? When we only tell half our story, we let the world and it's raging obsession with image win out.

"When we listen to voices that have become silenced, we become more fully human."

Since living in Nicaragua, these untold stories are the ones I seek. The ones I want to know. The ones I need my heart to hear. The story behind the begging eyes of the child who taps on my window at the stop sign. The story behind the family who lives at the stoplight selling newspapers. The story behind the waitress at the coffee shop with a shy smile. The story behind the window washer with missing teeth. The story behind the girl with only one hand who stands at the tree. The story behind a high school girl who hides her pain behind the mask of a smile.

There is something supernatural that happens when someone shares their story. Their own story, in their own voice. Their words told to to the world, out loud or written, hold a specific type of power for the story teller and the listener. A power to transform, change, touch, connect, free.

"Stories can change us, change the hearts of others, and change the world. It's my prayer that this book gives you the freedom to speak. And when you do speak, I expect the world around you to look a bit more hopeful, bright and good."

**all quotes taken from Nish Weiseth's book, Speak. Highly recommended.**

remember.

Dear soul,

Please don't give up just yet. I know you are faint, I know you hurt, I know it's hard...but sweetness awaits. Don't forget Who it is that holds you together. That soothes the ache. That mends the brokenness. That fills the holes.

Remember...when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. And when you walk through the fire, it will not consume you. He is with you always. (Isaiah 43)

Remember...He holds your right hand, guiding you along His ways. He is your strength, oh heart, and your portion forever. (Psalm 73)

Remember...that love of His, that relentless love, is wide and long and deep and high. And enough...it is enough for you. (Ephesians 3)

Remember...suffering gives way to perseverance; perseverance, character; character, hope - and hope will never disappoint. Stand on this grace, my soul, and rejoice. (Romans 5)

Remember...all this? All these troubles? They are light and momentary. They are achieving for you an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. Fix your eyes not on the temporary, not on what only you see...fix them on eternity. (2 Corinthians 4)

Remember...before all things, He was there. In all things, He is there. (Colossians 1)

Remember...this God of yours, this God of all grace, will restore you - making you strong, firm and steadfast. (1 Peter 5)

Remember...you will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Be strong, take heart and wait on the LORD in confidence. (Psalm 27)

Remember...His banner over you is love - and His is the sweetest love of all. (Song of Solomon 2)

Be brave, dear soul, for you have not been forgotten. Let the tears fall when they may, for He cherishes each one. I know your temptation to run, hide, self protect... if you let fear win out now, you will miss the blessings. And yes, there are even blessings in pain. Keep living the full life, oh soul - stay open, soft and tender. Endure all things. Believe all things. Hope all things. Bear all things.

Please don't give up just yet. Stay fixed on Him. Remain in His presence. Seek His face. Wait in His grace. No matter where this road might take you, rest in knowing Who it is that holds you.

Stay strong, oh brave soul of mine.

FUN-tober.

So September was hard. I'll spare you the details but it was just one of those overwhelming, culture shock, transitioning months that felt like it was never going to end. But it did (because hard seasons are just that...only a season) and when the calendar turned to the first of October, I literally felt like a new person. I've said this before but turning over that last page of a month in my planner is literally one of my favorite things. To me it says a fresh start, untrodden adventures, different joys, new tears. So this time, when October came around...I made a decision. October will be a fun month. Every day, I will do something fun/joy giving/smile worthy. FUN-tober, I dubbed it (much  to the dismay of my best friend who claimed I could have taken it in a much "cooler" direction). But anyways, it turns out FUN-tober really was just that...fun! I may not have completed the task of a fun thing every day of the month but it was filled with enough fun things to fulfill it's new nickname.

So here you go, my friends: FUN-tober in a glance (and in no particular order) ...

we must.

brave: [breyv]
adjective
1. possessing or exhibiting courage or courageous endurance.
2. admirable.
noun
3. a brave person.
4. a warrior.
verb
5. to meet or face courageously.
6. to defy, challenge, dare.
7. to make splendid.

{ we must be brave. we must act courageously. we must look fear in the eyes. we must stand. we must have endurance. we must be warriors. we must challenge ourselves. we must challenge others. we must make splendid moments. we must be brave. }

wonder: [wuhn-der]
noun
1. something strange and surprising; a cause of surprise, astonishment or admiration.
2. miraculous event or deed; remarkable phenomenon.
verb
3. to think or speculate curiously.
4. to be filled with admiration, amazement, or awe; marvel.
5. to doubt.

{ we must wonder. we must seek miraculous events and remarkable phenomenons. we must doubt. we must ask questions. we must be curious. we must admire. we must marvel. we must allow ourselves to be amazed. we must dream. we must wonder. }

hope: [hohp]
noun
1. the feeling that what is wanted can be had or events will turn out for the best.
2. something that is hoped for.
verb
3. to look forward with desire and reasonable confidence.
4. to believe, desire, or trust.
5. to place trust; rely.

{ we must hope. we must feel. we must be optimists. we must look forward. we must desire. we must be confident. we must believe. we must trust. we must rely on something bigger then ourselves. we must seek hope, be hope, live hope. we must hope. }

breathe.

This morning was one of those mornings. One of those morning where as soon as my eyes open, I just want to shut them again. Roll over, forget about the day, stay in the comfy fortitude of cream and white cotton where I can block everything out by the simple closing of my eyelids. It was one of those mornings where the first emotion felt was panic because the only thing running through my head was my list. Oh my dreaded, beloved list. I love to hate and hate to love my list. My ongoing, never ending, ever growing, keeps me sane, makes me insane list of all that there is to do in a day, week, month. How am I suppose to even think about this before I can get my hands on my morning coffee? Well this morning I did and let me tell you - it wasn't pretty. I laid there in my bed, petrified of moving, frozen in fear. Unsure of how to let my feet hit the floor...and then I heard the words, loud & clear, whispering to my wildly beating heart:

"just breathe in grace."

I stopped for a moment, letting this sink in - sink in to the very core of my being, to my very soul - when I heard it again: 

"breathe in My grace." 

And so I sat there, in a few minutes of silence before the loudness, craziness, business of the day began...and I breathed in His grace.

breathe in. { grace }
breathe out. { panic }
breathe in. { grace }
breathe out. { anxiety }

And on and on this cycle went, in those precious few moments that He sought me in the midst of my crazy. In the midst of my mess. In the midst of my { almost } full blown break down.

I often find myself back here. This simple act of breathing. This exercise of the soul. In the wilderness of life, it is these simple pauses in the day that keep me sane. But it is always Him who gives me the reminder to breathe. If left up to me, I find myself drowning in panic and doubt and control and lists and hopelessness.

breathe in. { His will }
breathe out. { my will }

breathe in. { hope }
breathe out. { despair }

breathe in. { peace }
breathe out. { worry }

breathe in. { joy }
breathe out. { heaviness }

Breathing these life-giving words in and out have become vital for the wellbeing of my soul. And as long as my physical body keeps breathing, I must allow the soul to breathe as well.

beach.

Sometimes you just need to go to the beach.

 Sometimes you just need to stand at the oceans edge and let the waves wrap around those tired, worn feet - while grace's waves wrap around that tired, worn heart.

Sometimes you just need to hear the quiet, rhythmic beat of the rolling shore - ushering stillness into the chaotic mind.

Sometimes you just need to feel the fresh, salty air blow against your skin - softening and settling the soul.

Sometimes you just need to stand with toes in the sand and face towards the sky and let the sunshine envelope you - let it lighten and warm the deep places of your innermost being that have turned so dark and cold. 

Sometimes you just need to sacrifice the sleep in order to wake up early so you can watch that sunrise over the horizon - filling your eyes with all the wonder and hope of the promise of a new day.

They say that salt water brings healing to open wounds and I wonder if salt water can also heal the open, bleeding wounds of the soul. 

I wonder if the right beach at the right moment can bring

a deeper stillness

a deeper grace

a deeper healing

a deeper rest

a deeper peace.