Vacation Words

the farm

Vacationing is hard for me to do.  Not striving to be productive is difficult.  Work follows me.  And when I’m actually not supposed to work, the silent nudging of my mental to-do list swells to something well resembling a panic attack.  I am the product of two entrepreneurs.  The plague of work being on my phone, on my computer has already consumed and created a slight, reoccurring twitch in my right eye at seventeen.

So, I’m thankful.  That I can be here, in a place that hasn’t changed since I was born.  I’m in a town where a newcomer wouldn’t understand my love for a place that has had the same jacuzzi on the side of the road for sale since I was four; and where Paddy’s Par Range (where, yes, I have actually played at) is bordering a grocery store parking lot.

I ate at Buccilli’s Pizza tonight, where nothing has changed besides its employed young adults.  The buffet (which has always been the reason for going there) has never changed. 2 soups, salad bar (with the same toppings), pizza, cheese sticks, and chocolate pudding (always the fave).  The only change I know of was about 6 years ago when they added Oreo pudding and cinnamon bread sticks. That was a little crazy for them.  To recover from the madness, there hasn’t been a variation since.

It was in the small, one room restaurant that I realized how blessed I am to be home.  To have a home, especially having lived all over the world, who has known me in all stages of my life – not just the one I’m wrapped up in now.  She knew me before I skipped high school to go to college, before I was a worship leader, before I had two businesses.  I can be me here.  I can be the same me I was at 2, or 4, or 12, or whatever I want!  And that’s freeing.  So freeing that I can forget about the writing I “need” to do or the pictures I “need” to edit or the emails I “need” to send.  Clare, Michigan has been sweet to me; she deserves some sweet attention back.

I’ll leave with you with one of the first essays I wrote for DSC, about my home, written in 2009.  Whether it’s read or not, I need to wipe the dust off of it and bring it out – for no reason other than my sanity and for the sake of being free.

I could never see much while sitting in the back seat of that small car at night.  Only the outline of seasonal Christmas lights shaping the town's houses was visible.  Therefore, the feel of the dirt road passing beneath the vehicle was only enhanced.  The sound of turning tires kicking up stones would begin to sooth me to sleep as I would rest my head on the soft seat of the car.  Just as my heavy eyelids would reluctantly close, my body would be jolted by the transition of one dirt road to another.  That's when I knew, as Grandpa would turn onto Crawford Road, that we were almost there.  I eagerly searched out my window, my eyes straining to see through the darkness, behind the festive lights, for the house I had been to a hundred times before.  Multiple times I found myself in a wake of delight by believing that I had spotted the correct house through the black canopy.  Upon further inspection I would realize that I had, unfortunately, misinterpreted the features.  I wasn't disappointed, however.  I had played that game many times, and I knew we are approaching our destination.

            When Grandpa would begin to withdrawn his foot from the accelerator, I would finally see the correct house come into view.  The traditional Christmas lights were illuminating the front porch, reflecting red and green hues off the white snow.  The scene was like a picture on a postcard.  Snow had recently ceased to fall, laying in mounds, just begging to be stomped in vigorously.  The seasonal decorations were perfect to the degree of every properly placed pine needle in the door's wreath.  Faithfully, the prodigious, crimson barn stood statuesque in the background, as it has always been for decades before my birth.  The uncontainable joy from the realization that we had indeed arrived would erupt.  We had arrived at my grandparent's house, the Farm.

            Growing up, my parents and I lived in many places.  I was born in the Netherlands, and moved to Malaysia, New York, and California.  However, my grandparents' house in Clare, Michigan – affectionately titled the Farm – was always a consistent home in my life.  No matter where I had lived in the past, I could always walk into the beloved house and know it would be a familiar dwelling.  The living room would always greet me with its inviting cream couch, spacious windows revealing the descending, dancing snow, and fireplace, where warmth has caressed me for years.  I held to knowledge every creak the the hard wood floor hallway could make, and every way the door hinges would groan.  Loyally, there would always be a plate of cookies placed neatly on the rose colored counters, forbidden to be consumed until morning.

            After much urging on my mother's part, I would retreat to the bedroom, not only to demolish the temptation to steal a sugary snack, but because I held a sense of possession for that room since the beginning of my childhood, and I had missed it exceedingly.  A yellow, floral comforter would still cloth the bed.  Baskets of old toys would continue to patiently wait for a child to play with.  The wind chime I made years ago at Vacation Bible School could still be found hung on the bed's headboard.  The room would always be remarkably identical to how I had left it last.

            To this day, the Farm is and always will be a haven.  It will forever be there for me to run down the path through the bean fields, sled down the hills blanketed in snow, and frolic through the trees.  It's a place where I can always come to live fully, eat abundantly, sleep peacefully, and be surrounded by family.  I am not certain where my path will take me in the future.  I don't know where I'll live or travel to, and I don't know what I will become.  I do know, however, that no matter where I go or do, the Farm will always be there, welcoming me with Christmas lights, snow, and a home evermore.

Those Days

I want to be 16 forever. Even when I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fists, willing for everything around me to stop, for some wild reason the world keeps spinning.

I was babysitting my cousins yesterday. It was raining. Naturally, I figured I’d turn on a movie for them. Suddenly, five year old Lucas yelled while running outside, “Let’s dance in the rain, Lizzie!” That’s what I want. I want to dance in the rain and not worry about the Earth that's rotating under me. I want to be free, have my hair wave behind me, and do nothing. I didn’t realize how much I missed being annoyed by wet blades of grass sticking to my feet.

I’m going to look at a college to finish my degree at next week. Not a big deal. Except, oh wait!, it’s in Georgia. GEORGIA. My home, my church, my friends, my life is in Florida. I’m praying that I’ll hate it when I get there. The scary thing is, I’m fairly certain I won’t. This college has “Elisabeth” written all over it. I have that feeling that Jesus is leading me there, that feeling that people beg for in their lives. Yeah, it’s tearing me to pieces.

Today, I’m in Michigan, on my grandparent’s farm in the one of the smallest of towns. It’s been my home since before I could walk. It’s the perfect time to be here, before I have to start thinking like an adult. This place has always accepted me as I am. Through all the houses and states and countries I’ve lived in, through all the stages of my life, God has blessed me so much through this place. My days have been filled with peace here. It’s been those reading-and-writing-for-pleasure-rather-than-for-a-professor days. Those having-time-to-give-myself-a-manicure-in-a-comfy-chair days. And those being-able-to-do-nothing-as-long-as-you’re-doing-it-with-family days.

It is here I see that Jesus is taking care of me. Even though I’ll inevitably be 17 in five short months, even though I’m (for some crazy reason) looking to live in the mountains of Georgia, He’s taking care of me.

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.

The Fruits # 4: Love

This afternoon, I took some time to read through letters I wrote six years ago to my husband. A lot of things ran through me as I read those letters. Some of them were funny, didn't make sense, or were beyond cheesy. But sometimes, I would be surprised by my ten year old self. I would read something that stopped me in my tracks and I would need to take a second and re-read it. I was evidently in love with this man that I still haven't met.

Little girls imagine their husbands as one man short of Jesus. Surely he will be handsome, strong, talented, romantic, a leader, 100% dependable, funny, and the bestest best pal. We imagine him with a glow around his body, jealously fighting thousands for our affection. There is no greater dream than to find him and have him fall in love with us, and to spend our days loving him back.

I realized today that those little starry-eyed girls turn into teenage girls. And suddenly our future husbands look different. Our hormones often lead to heartache, and heartache leads to the destruction of the picture of our perfect men and that perfect love. We lose faith in the man we've been waiting for, and to some the idea of living to love him is no longer our such an ambition.

What is love? People seem to be all over the place on this. Thankfully, our Father who thinks of everything wrote the answer as clear as day saying, "This is how we know know what love is: Jesus laid down His life for us" (1 John 3:16). Basically, if you would lay down your life for someone, the odds are you love them. That should be how we determined such a thing. I'm a big believer in the saying "Love isn't a feeling, it's a choice". My professor last year tried to convince me that love wasn't real, but a blend of smells and chemical reactions. I'm no chemist, so I don't know much. But I do know that that feeling or reaction is what I like to call attraction, not love. I do know that that assumption on feelings is the reason why over half of U.S. marriages fail. I do know that I wouldn't be able to stay with a man for ever based off a happening of "chemical reactions".

For those girls wondering if love can be done, there's a second part to that verse I shared earlier, "And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters" (1John 3: 16). This is where I started to stumble. Because it's difficult. It's easy for me to say and honestly mean that I love someone, but acting like it is a challenge for me with my family and friends and fellow believers. What do we do that goes beyond what the 50% of Americans divorcees had done? We strive. We work. And we persist -- as Jesus did. We stop giving people pieces of our minds and more pieces of our hearts. We wake up every morning choosing to find ways to make each other feel loved. We have to love, it's a command -- so I vote we do it with stars in our eyes, just like when we were little girls.

“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.” - Noelle, age 6

“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.” - Jessica, age 8

The Fruits # 2: Joy

I was sitting in my Modern American Literature class today. I was tired, my professor was cranky, and the guy behind me had a cough. The phrase "I hate Mondays" was beginning to get a whole new meaning. That's when a girl Anna, whom I had in my speech class last semester and who I know is firm Christian, walked in and sat down. I watched her as she reached down to take her books out of her bag. Strangely, from where I was sitting it looked like she was grinning. It was annoying. It was an early, dumb Monday morning -- what did she have to smile about?

That's when God said (probably after hitting me upside the head, if He was here) "You best be workin' on your joyfulness, girl." Maybe He didn't say it just like that, but it was close. I've never been good at choosing joy. Looking beyond the circumstance isn't my forte. After that moment of deciding to work on my joyfulness though, my whole day turned around. April 5, 2011 had many things to be joyful about:

1) I'm joyful because the Lord is using me for His purposes in multiple ministries.

2) I'm joyful because even though I don't like the house that my parents just bought, it will go far beyond keeping us safe and warm.

3) I'm joyful to be able to learn to play instruments.

4) I'm joyful that God gave us His word and my ability to read it.

5) I'm joyful to have my newest favorite shirt.

6) I'm joyful to have such a beauitful church family.

7) I'm joyful to have made plans with friends next Monday.

8) I'm joyful that Jesus loves me far more that I can fathom.

9) I'm joyful that I have eternal life with Jesus and my brothers and sisters.

10) I'm joyful to serve a God whom within joy can always be found.

The Fruits: Patience

I used to avoid that part of Galations, where Paul write about the Fruits of the Spirit. Now, I love fruit -- it's my favorite food! But these fruits I hindered away from. Galations 5:22 & 23 was a no-go zone for Elisabeth.

Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-Control.

Sure love, joy, peace -- it all sounds nice. But I knew that I could never live out those fruits as they are meant to be lived out. It was on my birthday four months ago, however, that when needing encouragement, my Pastor lovingly reminded me of the fruits in a Facebook message. I haven't stopped thinking about the nine words since. God has relentlessly put them on my heart. So, I decided to focus on one fruit a day and work on living it out.

Naturally, I thought I would start with Love, seeing as it is the first one listed. Today, however, I was at a paint store with my mom and she asked me to put a paint sample back. As I walked to the wall covered in colored paper squares, I looked at the sample and you know what it was called? Patience. Well, God, I appreciate Your bluntness, was what I prayed right then and there. So, the King had spoken. April 3rd 2011 was a day of patience for me.

It was difficult, but the Lord always provided me with the ability to show proper patience when I called on Him. Oh boy, I failed often too. But I feel so blessed to have learned what I have learned and to have felt what I have felt. My sister decided to obnoxiously communicate with friends of mine multiple times at church today, and -- through the power of Jesus Christ alone, I assure you -- I resisted the urge to yell at her. And, what do you know, it felt really good to not be mad at her. Also today, a prayer I've been praying for months now has been answered. You know that's one of the best feelings! Waiting upon the Lord does do wonders.

Abiding in Him as filled me with so much praise. I look forward to tomorrow's fruit!

Apparently, I Tumbl

I couldn't help myself. I was cornered. Tricked. Manipulated. (Aaaand I was procrastinating from writing my public speaking final paper.) Of that, I made my own Tumblr blog. It's not a real blog though, in my opinion. It's just a place for quick thoughts and such to be bled out onto the computer screens of people who care about said thoughts. I will not abandon The Life Song Journal. Promise.

When Perky People are Pushing Their Luck

You may have noticed that I have been a bit quite here at the Life Song Journal. (Of course, people don't usually comment on my posts, so it's hard to tell how many have taken note on my absence. (; ) Now, I'm not usually quite. The only time I'm not sharing stories or speaking my mind is when I'm sad, mad, or feel out of place. The last month and a half, I've been feeling a mixture of all three of those emotions. I'm tired of feeling this way, though. I miss speaking and feeling secure about it.

I've never been good at "choosing joy" when something crummy is going on inside of me. I'm not wired that way. (You should see when my mom [whom I love dearly] tells me to "just choose joy!" while I'm PMSing and unhappy. She says it all perky like. It makes me want to hit something. I don't advise being around at such a moment.)

My lovely friend, Sary (whom I miss unbelievably), posted this on Facebook the other day: "Thoughts come before feelings which come before actions. Control your thoughts and you control your actions." At first I blew it off. I have heard something like this before. But three hours later, I felt nudged to write "T,F,A" (thoughts, feelings, actions) on my mirror.

Something I love about this is that, I'm still not choosing joy. Yes, I have a constant underlining joy, but I'm not faking being happy just because people like me better when I'm chipper. I'm controlling my thoughts, therefor how I live my life. And, let me tell you, today I've been living my life a lot happier.

Things that I controlled my thoughts, feelings and actions about, making my day brighter:

~Getting the dishes and math homework done before 10 AM this morning, ridding it of my Tuesday.

~Being almost done figuring out the chords to a song on the piano I'll be doing for Christmas.

~Getting very positive feedback from my cello teacher.

~Discovering I got a B+ on my social psychology test!

~When my God answered my prayers. (He'll answer yours, too.)

~Writing my public speaking speech in a few hours, getting it done two days before I needed to!

~Being drenched in rain.

~Learning about roses from a fellow classmate.

~Changing my negative thoughts about missing an important event to positive thoughts.

~Getting new music.

Things I'm looking forward to about Autumn:

-- the hues that will paint the trees

-- being able to wear my jeans and jacket without someone saying "Aren't you hot?!"

-- my homeschool co-op that's starting tomorrow

-- the cooler temperatures that make everything else cozy!

-- wearing my super, uber cute brown boots that are sitting patiently in my closet

-- the Fall Season/"Halloween" Party that occurs at my house

-- knowing that Thanksgiving is around the corner, one of my two favorite "holidays" (Easter being the other one.)

-- wearing really crazy socks (but under my long jeans, so it's a secret!) :D

-- laying in cool grass

-- the wind playing with my hair

-- my grandparents coming down from Michigan for Autumn/Winter/Spring time.

-- excitedly knowing that right when the excitement of Fall and Thanksgiving is over, the celebration of Jesus' birthday will begin.

Seven more days!

For My Friends of the Home-Making or Crafty Kind

There's a woman who makes music that I love, her name if JJ Heller. You may have heard of her.

Not only does she make music, she also keeps a blog that I'm border-line obsessed with. Lovely Little Things is a site where JJ Heller shares her always simple home decor and sewing tricks. A lot of the sewing pieces she posts are tutorials found online and for her babygirl Lucy (so it's all stinkin' adorable).

For my home-makers, craft-creators, and color-embracers: enjoy. (:

This Evening's Musings

It's nice to be here, a place of writing and heart-scribing. I think I need it right now.

I've had a night full of seeing how some of the people in my life are truly real. Heartbreakingly, I've also discovered how many people I'm around daily are fake. I don't think there is a bigger feeling of disappointment than discovering someone that you're around all the time is not really who you thought they were. They become liars. There's no doubt that I'm not perfect. Sometimes I want people to think that I'm perfect. But I'm not. And I respect people who don't try to act like they have it all together. The most healthy relationships that I have are with people who don't try to frantically cover up their short comings. And that is what I appreciate the most out of real people. They're real to me. I'm worth the honest friendship and the truth.

God has been easily evident this last week. I truly believe it's because I've been reading my Bible before my feet hit the floor in the morning. Now, I'm a little frightened not to! I love seeing his handiwork in the butterflies and pink/blue skies (He gave me a thing for pretty skies). I love feeling blessed by the words of encouragers -- a few have reassured me tonight, making me feel like I'm where I belong. That is always a lovely feeling.

On a lighter note... Have you seen my apron of cuteness? (:

I'm thankful for this place. That 'publish post' button is looking caressingly orange, and like it's full of healing.

Madi

Today, Madi walked in the room, following her daddy, wearing a Red Sox t-shirt and sporting 3D glasses with the lenses popped out. "That's what makes them cool," she told me.

Madi is a life-loving spirit who love Jesus immensely. She likes to make people laugh, refuses to be girlie, dislikes the color pink with a raging passion, and is an awesome hugger. I adore when she lets her strong exterior become transparent and loves in a heart-melting fashion.

Her life is full of music, and it plays out beautifully through her. She made a drum set out of plastic boxes and hard-cover books today, playing them quite convincingly. Her guitar is a popular subject of conversation when we're together, and she has a beautiful singing voice (although she doesn't sing for people, unfortunately).

Whenever I daydream about having a daughter someday, I used to dream of a beautiful girl who would wear a pink tu-tu with every outfit. Now, thanks to lovely Madi, I also think of a gorgeous girl in a baseball tee with wild bobbed hair, banging boxes with drum sticks.

It's That Time of Year Again

Most of the days on my August calendar are sporting giant X's. There are Target bags of school supplies on the stairs. The parents are about to strangle us with all the TV that we've been watching. Every store commercial supports the phrase "back to school."

I found out after I left school, just how much I love it. I love the classroom atmosphere. I love adults passing on their wisdom. I love notebooks, and pens, and the intensity of vigorous note-taking. I'll be at the college three hours, four days a week this semester, and I'm stinkin' excited!

This also means, with school starting, Autumn is on its way! I forget how much I love Fall until it's around the corner. The leaves will change. Homework will be rushed to get done so that the scary movies on TV can be watched. The weather will cool nicely. I'll get to wear lovely Fall/Winter clothes (scarves, boots, jeans, and the occasional hat), which I favor far more than summer clothing. Thanksgiving will find our hearts and stomachs once again.

OK, I'm getting a tad ahead of myself -- but when you think about, just a tad.

It'll be lovely. I can't wait.

List Entry #... I lost count

Lists are a specialty of mine, and of the Life Song Journal, if you have yet to notice. I like lists. They're factual and productive, and still very inspiring and spirit-lifting. And sometimes, as a girl who thinks too much for her own good and talks far more than she is comfortable with, list-entries are the way to go! So, here we go.

* I just concluded a month in Michigan. Honestly, a month to me sounded like a long time to be away from home, but the truth is if we didn't visit, the bonds we have with our family now wouldn't be as strong. It was a great month of camping, Apples to Apples, pictures, shopping, eating, driving, baby-holding, World Cup-watching, nail-doing, bonfires, grass, Chicago, hugs, swings, and old Fraiser episodes. I loved it.

* My cousin Kristie flew back with my brother and dad, and is here with us now. She ventured all the way from the Netherlands to spend a couple weeks in the States. Already today while at a stop during our travels, we saw a man stretching awkwardly against a table. "Is that normal?" she asked. I assured her that the disturbing sight was not usually seen.

* It is the nice boy's re-birthday today! July 13th marks the day he took another step in following Jesus. It gives me chills just thinking about it. Baptism does that to you. I find that that last few years I've seen re-birthdays as so precious, and I'm so glad that Matt has one.

* My camera is currently in the hands of Canon-men/women. You may have been there when this occurred. Last time I saw my baby a few weeks ago, she was still broken. Thankfully, my grandpa is a good camera-sharer. My mom has a cute, bitty camera I can use until they replace my girl's circuit board and send it to my house. Hopefully, she will be healed and our parting will be over soon.

* My can't-stay-still family is on the road traveling once more, slowly making our way back to our beloved home. Pray for us, please, that we would remain safe. (By that I mean from other vehicles and from each other. For frequent travelers small spaces still make us cranky. (: )

(photo from weheartit.com)

Today, Happiness Is...

• finding free chord charts online that I don't need to fix.

• taking my last final = no more college until my Italy study trip.

• the sweet boy's prayers for my success.

• seeing my room clean. (Megan just threw all of our stuff which was on the floor on our beds.)

• waking up and remembering that I have red hair now.

• knowing I can talk to my Jesus whenever I please.

• this episode of Gilmore Girls.

• WeHeartIt pictures.

• seeing Megan dress up like a girl.

• yummy dinner tonight with my grandparents.

(photo mine)

Shaking Still

Did you hear something on the news about Haiti today? Perhaps. Did you know that Haiti recently had two more earthquakes? Maybe, but it wasn't worth doing anything about. Did someone tell you that after the earthquake on January 12, 2010, Haiti's people are still recovering from it? You assumed so, right? But it's old news now. There's no need to talk about it.

The earth may have stopped moving, but people are still shaken.

I feel stupid saying that the earthquake changed my life. It sounds naive. However, it did, immensely. I can't even begin to explain. Can you imagine how the lives of those who were in the earthquake are feeling today?

I remember everything from January 2010. Staying up till the wee hours of the night watching CNN. Constantly networking with people through the internet to learn and provide others with new information. Crying, Praying, Fasting. And going to meet all the Three Angels kids when they got here in the United States and staying with six of them over night at a foster care center until their forever families picked them up. It's hard to remember and to thinking about. Somedays, it's even painful.

But I will never forget. And it makes me sick to think that people have -- especially after publicly saying they wouldn't. Why have people decided that they don' need to donate anymore? Or that this problem is solved and not longer needed to be shared?

I feel I've been doing a little something to help lately. By this, I am not saying that I am better than others. I would feel weird discussing the subject any further after what I have just written. It's a little thing I'm doing, but it makes my heart happy, and I like to think it will make someone else in Haiti a bit happier too.

I could say more, and I probably will later. Thank you to all of you who are still offering yourselves to Haiti Relief, to those who haven't forgotten.

I was so kindly invited today, by the overwhelming blessings of my cumfy bed, many exciting books to dive into, time-capturing pictures, a green Jacket, and a Coke; by the Sun's warm rays which were winking at me through tree limbs out side of my window. I was invited to sit by my windowsill and feel the presence of a Giving, Saving, Loving, Beautiful God. Have I mentioned that I love Spring?

I believe...

...that my life is a fairy tale.

Does that mean my life is always "sunshine, lollipops and rainbows"? No. But what is a fairy tale without hard expeditions, villains, and dragons? I know every life has at least one of these in some form, otherwise you're probably not living. Do you think Belle loved her life when the Beast locked her father in a dungeon? I don't remember Cinderella singing songs when her step-mother and step-sisters tore her beautiful gown.

What makes a fairy tale, a fairy tale?

I am a feminine heart searching for myself through the happenings of everyday. I have battles to fight, hurtles to overcome, and dragons to slay. Although, like all the other princesses, like all the other humans, I can't do it alone. I don't have any dwarves or talking home decor to assist me, but I have loved ones who help me defeat the Evil One. I have forever dreamt of true love and a knight coming to save me. I have my castle, my treasures, great Love, and green open fields to run through. It is hard for me to see sometimes.. but all of it is there.

Actually, a lot of what makes our lives fairy tales is invisible.."for our struggle is not against the flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12).

Does that sound "normal"? What about Heaven and Hell?

Those fairy tale books have nothing on the Bible! For those of you who thought that your life is boring, I don't see how you could continue believing such a lie. Because that's what it is: a lie whispered into your heart by the Enemy. (An enemy, another element of a fairy tale.) He wants us to forget that Jesus has called us to live a life of adventure with Him.

The Bible speaks of matter of the heart, of battles, of adventures all the time! But today expressing our hearts and lovey dovey ballads are taboo. Hardships have become simply life's crap -- rather than opportunities to be the feminine Warrior or the brave-heart of a Knight. How often in everyday conversation do you hear of someone giving their son away to die and save the population of the world from their evilness so that they can someday live in a world of gold? Jesus even calls Himself a Prince, multiple times! God is a King! There is something that we have lost... And from it, God's people are overwhelmed by their troubles, or worse... they're bored.

In the deep wakes of overpowering, overwhelming life, I grow bored, I become frustrated, and my heart breaks. But it's in that time where I turn to the ultimate Book of fairy tales, to the most amazing King. I see in my life a fairy tale that becomes real. Everything I go through now is to get to my happy ending, my happily ever after. We all have adventures to live, and we're being called to live then with our Savior King, with our Prince of Peace, and with our Rescuer. We all have a happily ever after. Fighting the battle, slaying the dragons, weathering the adventure -- it's only half the fun.

"Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again." ~C.S. Lewis

(photos from weheartit.com)

This Season

I haven't posted in a while. Well, in a week --which for me lately 'a while' is an appropriate way to put it. I wish I could post, and I have been contemplating how to scribe this truthfully, not too vaguely, and still allowing it to be something worth singing about.

In all honesty, what I have to say, I can't say here -- which is unfortunate. I will say this though: it is time for me to shut up. I'll pray, and be still, and find a peace within me with is God planted. God has always taught me through seasons, everything in my Walk has been seasons -- pure, clear, heart changing seasons. This is my season now. It is my least favorite season and one of my heart's favorite. This is me, my path, my life, a piece of everything I'll be doing.

There is an appointed time for everything.

And there is a time for every event under heaven

A time to give birth, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to uproot what is planted.

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to tear down, and a time to build up.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance.

A time to throw stones, and a time to gather stones;

A time to embrace, and a time to shun embracing.

A time to search, and a time to give up as lost;

A time to keep, and a time to throw away.

A time to tear apart, and a time to sew together;

A time to be silent, and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time for war, and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3

This, however is what I have been up to..

flowers, photography, bible-ing, babysitting my lovely little friends, and taking it day by day.

PS ~ YES! my camera is fixed! Praise God!

(photos mine)