rainy days

Oh friends, it's so funny how
in the middle of a gross, rainy
go-to-the-dentist
yelling
day.

I find myself renewed in these pages.

Sometimes I open my Bible
angry and I don't know why
or bone tired and deeply sad.
Yet it never fails that
somewhere in between cover and cover
paper-thin pages

I find life
again and again and again

And I love it.

PS-
I'm picking up my pen these days and feeling less afraid
I'm picking up my camera and remembering how to see things
I'm prying open my heart
inch by inch
and finding that summer
always
exists.

outside it is this:

but the inside I am this:

 

matters of the he[art]

Dear friend,

The room is large, open, and airy.  Light pours in from windows at the top of the walls.  When I first walked in, I felt calm...almost soothed.  I could be anything in this room.  Anything.

Welcome to art class.

Last week, we started sketching shapes for a still life.  I sat in front of my canvas, paralyzed.  As the instructor came by, she noticed that the few lines I had drawn were light-- almost invisible.

Why did I even take this class?

What was I thinking?

"Elizabeth."

My instructor's voice brought me back into the room.  She sized up the nearly empty canvas and turned to me with a knowing smile.

"The only way you can fail is by having an blank canvas.
In trying, you've already succeeded."

I took a breath, blinked back tears, and picked up my pencil.

My blank canvas was no longer something I was going to mess up, rather,
it was the chance to create something beautiful.

It's funny how when you stop worrying about failure-

everything seems like an open possibility.

It is with open, paint-covered palms

I offer the same thought to you-

whatever your dreams are

whatever it feels like your hands were made to do

whatever keeps you up at night with what if's.

Dear friend,

dwell in possibility.

live there.

revel around.

make a mess.

get paint on your clothes.

learn Chinese.

travel the world.

sing, create, do, dwell.

It's okay if it doesn't turn out like you thought it would.

Your lines might be lopsided and your colors too bright.

But it's not about perfection.

  It's about celebrating the little things, flaws and all.

It's about creation.

just try.

Yesterday.

Yesterday I soaked up every moment.

Driving with all the windows down.
Walking in the sun with a dear friend.
Listening really listening, as she shared about her life.
The way our laughs seemed to bounce off the walls.
Dancing in the middle of a busy,people-filled sidewalk.
Watching a cold drink melt- a reminder that my world is getting warm again.

Everything so brilliant and bright-
everything new.

Even later that night, as I celebrated a dear friend's birthday,
I felt like I was witnessing something magical.

The spark behind her eyes.  Knowing she felt loved.
Seeing people come together to enjoy simple company.
To share in something so valuable.

Those moments, so drenched in grace, remind me of our Father's love.

Yesterday included nothing expensive or outrageous,
but oh friends- I felt so extravagantly rich.

It was a green grass day- the kind I remember to tuck away with gratefulness. When I need to, I can pull it out like a photograph again and again.  Spring brings the reminder that nothing is ordinary, and everything is extraordinary- including you.

If we had keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence.
-George Eliot

home

The sun is staying out longer these days, and it feels so good.

Since my last post, I roadtripped to Ohio to see some sweet friends.  The open road and open windows gave me plenty of time and space to think about things.

Whenever I'm struggling, God always seems to instantly surround me with family.  Somewhere between the long talks and loud laughs, I started feeling like myself again.  I hope you have people like this- people who remind you of rest and beauty.

While driving home, I realized that I was headed toward a city.

That's what my life seems to be like lately- a never ending choice between cities.  Detroit, VA Beach, New York, Indianapolis, Moscow.  But those places aren't my home.

As I'm constantly changing and making choices-
I pray that I would find my home in God.

My deepest desire is to build my life on the things that matter.

Whatever that looks like, whatever that means, wherever it takes me, I know I'll carry home with me.  It's in God and the people He loves and in the people that love me back.  May my treasure be found there.

Thanks friends, for walking with me through these things.  For reading and caring and being with me in the big questions.  There's a lot going on these days, and I have a feeling you'll be hearing from me much more often. 

May this find you well, warm, and encouraged.

Home is never as far as it seems.

light up the sky

Dear friend-

I hope these words find you well.  I hope you have a house that you can call home and people you can call family.  I've found both of those things, and they're grace.

"When night is rushing in, falling on my skin

Oh God, would you come close."

It's been a long week that I can't explain--full of really hard, unbloggable things and unexpected grief.  I'm sure you've had one of those before, the kind of weeks that sit like a knot in the pit of your stomach.  But that's not why I'm writing.

In the middle of all these things
I stumbled across something that surprised me.

Something equally unexpected, yet stronger than grief.

Even in the rising feeling of unraveling senselessness, I found love.  I didn't expect to find it in the middle of a hurricane, but it was there.















I've always believed that people are image-bearers of God.

Placed inside each of us is a puzzle piece of the Creator--a diverse and beautiful display of who God is.  And this week, I swear I saw that come to life right before my eyes.  It was like hearing a song sung back to me.  The nearness of God that I prayed for- it showed up in people.

There it was- love out of nowhere.  I held onto it with both hands, knowing that that flash of light marked something beautiful in the middle of chaos.

The love my friends showed me felt like seeing a glimpse of God himself.

In the static of a phone call.  In the stillness of a song.  In a cup of french press coffee.  In the silence of sweet listening.  In a hand wrapped around mine.  In a corny joke.  In deep prayers on my behalf.  In tears that aren't shamed for falling.

In people that take me just as I am.

That's the best description I can give to anyone of who Jesus is- that deep unselfishness that brings me to my knees.  That's how I strive to love other people.  Because I've been shown this love before, and it's compelling and changing and compassionate.  It understands and doesn't judge and its aftermath is freedom.

May you find hope for your hurricanes-
whatever they look like and however strong they seem.

because when life rushes in-
love does too.