Need.

"All I need is You, Lord"

Over and over and over and over again, with the music rising and falling. I'm in a room with thousands of people with their arms high and voices screaming to the heavens. And at some point all I could do was simply stop.

Stop. And breathe in truth.

Because there comes a time when you have to let the truth of those six words overwhelm you. And when you do, they will. That's the only thing they can do.

This past week I've realized how many times I use the word "need"

I need new shoes.
I need coffee.
I need to go to wal-mart.
I need ice cream.
I need to see my friends.
I need gas.
I need...I need...I need...

And where does it stop? What I NEED is perspective because the everything else will eventually fade. And I'm left with only You.

And that is all I need.

What's Left...

Questioning.
Struggling.
Wrestling.
Stripping.
Awakening.
More questioning...always more questioning.

This could sum up my last 3-5 months.

God has shown me, me. How he sees me. And it wasn't pretty. It hurt. It wasn't who I wanted it to be. More importantly, it wasn't who He intended me to be.

So I've let go.

"You see that? Your selfishness...it needs to go. Your insecurities...no need for them. You have a problem with vanity. And you want your wants more than mine right now. Your plans, they aren't mine-they never were. And above all, you have this problem with pride that we need to get under control."

Ouch. And I'm left with this...this knowing, this unattractive revealing of who I am and who I've become and two choices. His way or mine.

I once had a good friend who I knew had some major problems in her life, and I knew she needed to confide in me, but there was a part of me that wasn't ready to know exactly. Because once you know, YOU KNOW. And you can never unknow. And you can't pretend like you don't. It changes everything.

So I said OK.

And He started chipping away. And there were (are) times I can almost feel a literal battle going on within me. And all that's left when all of the stuff that I've been hiding behind is gone is a raw version of myself that's almost unrecognizable--but there's a peace that I haven't known in so long.

And with a sigh of relief and smile, I can almost hear an audible, "Now we're ready..."

A little of home

I never saw a key to the house I grew up in. Surely we had one-but there was ever a need for it; the doors were never locked.

Huge Oak at the end of the driveway. Tire swing. A rock waterfall in front of the garden...Front yard, home to dozens of touch football games(and injuries), just beyond the stairs leading to the front door of our home with the wooden porch swing. Images of home, built by daddy's hands and momma's love.

I knew the dog whose paw prints are in the cement basketball court. And I learned to shoot on the faded orange lines. There were countless nights I'd crawl on top of my car when the rest of the house was long asleep and find myself completely lost in the vast stars. It was those nights that I began to understand God's pursuit after me. He'd show off with those stars and make me feel like I was the only one who could possibly see the world as it was at that exact moment...and I knew, the stars always shine brightest at home.

My name is signed upside down on the window sill in my old room. And there's a hole in the carpet where I once spilled bleach. And if you want to know how tall I was when I was 11, it's on the wall by the pantry.

I liked to look out our kitchen window, through the pasture, across the creek, and up the hill to see the house where my parents met.

It may not be perfect to you with Pepto Bismol walls and holes hidden by frames. But it was.

I drove by it the other day. The grass is grown up and there's no longer vegetables in the garden and the water is drained from the pool...and I comfort myself with cliches-this isn't my home anyway and all good things must come to an end and something about chapters ending and beginning (which is where I always cut myself off)...

But some days, my arms ache climb the oak with my brother or spend an entire summer by the pool with my cousin or walk through the French doors to momma and daddy's room and crawl in bed with them.

They're just four walls,I know, but on overly sentimental days like this, they are much more.

Passion in Paint

I was once asked what my greatest fear was. My answer was that I'd somehow get lost in a routine and go through life without a passion and purpose. That someday I'd be all grown up and settled and realize that I didn't make an impact-I didn't live up to my purpose. That person responded by saying that if I was aware of that fear, then I wouldn't fall to it.

I think he was wrong.

Because IT IS SO EASY to go through one day without passion and purpose, so stringing them together one day after the next-it's really that much of a stretch when you think about it. It no longer bothers you.

Tonight I got a message from my best friend. She was talking about one of our favorite subjects to discuss in great detail-passions.

More specifically how easily it is to get lost in the mundane and think our passions are nothing more but silly dreams. We don't let each other stay there long because one thing we do know is that even if everyone else, the rest of the world thinks we're foolish, we push each other forward. I'm thankful for a friend like her.


So whatever your passions are. Do them. Don't lose them. You desperately need them.

Photograph this rain.
Join a bible study.
Start a bible study.
Write a letter to a friend who moved away.
Take a trip.
Throw pottery.
Sing really loud (and off key).
Paint.
Read a book cover to cover without getting up, drinking coffee out of you favorite cup.
Jump on your trampoline.

Whatever it is...do it.

books. backseats. blockquotes

When I read a book, I almost always rush through it to get to the end. I think I'm just too impatient, (and it's a habit carried over from middle school when I didn't want anyone to think I was a slow reader) but, inevitably, when I realize there's only about 15 pages left, I slam on the brakes. I'm just not quite ready for it to end.

Even though my youngest brother is practicing for drivers test as we speak, I still think of him as the cutest little boy ever. He has so much life and always has. When he was younger and all six of us would be in the car on vacation all of a sudden Daniel would get really excited about something he saw and he would yell, "Hey! Hey! Guys...everybody, whoa-did you see that??" And by the time we finally got out of him what he was talking about, the thing that had captivated him to such excitement was long gone. We missed it.

Sometimes I think this same attitude carries over to our lives. And I think sometimes God is like a little kid in the backseat that's so excited and is exclaiming, "Hey! Did you see that? Look-hurry!" But we're driving too fast and we're too focused to even notice the disappointment He feels at missing out on what He's excited about and wants to share with us.

Isn't life so much more than that? Isn't there so much beauty left to be seen? And why wouldn't we take the time to see the bright colors and strange sights and things that make us thankful and things that confuse us in their complexity? Life is more than we give it credit for. I'm afraid God intends for us to get more out of it than we do.

I just finished Cold Tangerines and I want to leave you with a quote (one of many highlighted) that I really like.

Because it seems like that's what God is saying to us, over and over. "What can I do today to remind you again how good this life is? You think the color of the sky is good now, what till sunset. You think oranges are good? Try a tangerine." He's a crazy delightful mad scientist and keeps coming back from the lab with great, unbelievable new things, and it's a gift.

"Oh honey, there are so many things in life worth your tears, but this just isn't one of them..."

This was a converstation I had with one of my players, who was also a cheerleader, that had a cheer competition and basketball game on the same day earlier this year.

For some reason this scene that played out in the weightroom months ago popped into my head and got me thinking.

I'm not ashamed to say that it the past 12 months I've had my far share of crying, and honestly, I could probably justify the majority of those tears-heartache, frustration, growing, change, confusion...very few people would fault me for it. As my mom says, "It's more that ok to have your moment, just don't let it become WHO you are."

But when I'm honest with myself, how many of those tears were shed for the hurting and the hungry?
For the lost?
How many tears led to positive action rather than self pity?
Were any out of brokenness or humility?
And when I get to the heart of it, what does that say about my priorities?
And how do I even begin to justify that?

I'm running in a marathon in a couple weeks. Well, actually a relay marathon-which is far less impressive, but still quite far. I committed to run a couple of months ago and have had ample time to prepare. Yet, here I am, two weeks away and can still barely make it two miles without stopping. Sad, huh?

There are so many times when I'm humbled by how far I have to go (not that I ever thought I was close to where I need to be, but wowzers!). Is my lack of preparedness, motivation, and commitment a trend in my life? Or in my walk with Christ?

But the good news, no, the BEST news, is that Christ consistently and subtly calls our attention to the things that matter. The things of Him. He puts people and things and memories and stories and movies and a baby's laughter and snow capped mountains in our lives, and all of these somehow beckon us sweetly and softly back to Him.

And suddenly the beauty of mountains and the pain of running and the memory of a conversation from months before make me more acutely aware of my passions and priorities in a wonderfully intricate way. A way that only my Father could weave together to make sense in my life.

Long Time, No Blog

SNOW. SO MUCH SNOW.

I tried to leave today. I didn't get far. Chalk that up to me being a chicken driving on ice or the fact that I didn't have a whole lot of motivation to get to practice or that that I kept sliding and getting stuck, either way-it didn't last long.

The snow has been rather nice though.

So for my first blog in 3 months or so, I thought I'd leave you with some pictures.

This is Gracie and me sledding on 1st snow day :)

And this is me trying to leave...

Ice Skating with the boyfriend :)

Picking me up on the scooter. We got lots of laughs and honks and pictures taken.

Sweet fort we built while we were snowed in.

I hope everyone else who's had snow days have taken full advantage of your days off!