Broken Birdsong

This time last year ... exactly this time last year, I didn't see the sun. I can't remember it shining, even now, unless I force my mind to realize, that logically, it must have. The sun must have been shining almost every day as my heart hemorrhaged. The days bled into one another like the soggy mascara I eventually gave up on. I bit at my lip and pulled at my hair as I tried desperately to fix my eyes on truth; tried desperately not to let everything be pulled into and tainted by my sorrow. The sun is shining now and I wrestle with it. This shining has significant implications. I have to admit, the sun must have been shining then, too. If it sounds like my mind is spinning in circles, I apologize. It is. My heart aches as I let my memories of a year ago resurface. The series of events that felt like a thousand good things withering away in my hands. I let go of dreams, let go of plans, let go of hands I thought were mine to hold forever. My pastor said so...

It makes necessarily divine sense. That when this child, perpetually scared of heights, would feel, when she is doing what she is called to do ... As though she is flying. And perfectly safe. I know no other love that casts out fear. No other life that brings fresh life to dead places. He's the hand on the back of the socially anxious, encouraging them to engage. He's the quiet voice that shuts up the fiercest of nightmares. He's walking on the water before us, inviting us to join Him. Inviting us to walk on top of the thing that made us fearful. I see myself standing at the edge of a dock. Whipped by the wind. Tears streaming. Laughing at the abandonment of it all. Laughing because fears cease to make sense within Christ. I hope you feel like you're flying today. I pray that the Spirit lifts you up. You were not created for cowering. Hiding is something we do apart from Christ. It should never be something we feel we need to do in the ...

I had never felt so heard, so understood, so empowered in my writing as on the day that I discovered Go Teen Writers and its founder, Stephanie Morrill . I felt like I had discovered a hand to hold, and I discovered a community of support that was exactly what I was looking for. Stephanie began to feel like an online big-sister to me, showing me the ropes and occasionally sharing her latest chocolate and peanut butter recipe. I want to start by highly recommending the community of Go Teen Writers to any young author that stumbles across this post, and to give you a glimpse at Stephanie's heart. This girl knows authors, she knows readers, and she knows teens. She knows their hearts and their struggles. I am on her team, 100% of the way. Stephanie Stephanie Morrill is the creator of GoTeenWriters.com and the author of several young adult novels, including the historical mystery, The Lost Girl of Astor Street. Despite loving cloche hats and drop-waist dresses, Stephanie would h...

Dear you, You at the edge of the social scene. You in the corner near the punch. You, counting the steps to the door, the minutes till home embraces your quaking heart like a warm blanket. Dear you. Let me pour you a cup of hot tea; give you something tangible to grip & receive as I speak these words over you. You've been in hiding for so long, trying not to burden anyone. If you're telling the truth, you've adopted the word "burden" like a name. Allow me to break that off of you right now. That's not your name. That isn't your identity. And I promise you it's not what people think of when they think of you. If someone has made you feel like that? If that is a wound you hold deep inside, & a fear always at the edge of your thoughts? Please, let me say this for us all - us blind, amateurs at love - let me say I am sorry. My heart hurts just knowing what you've gone through. Darling, I've been there. I have felt t...

"To the pure, all things are pure, but to those who are defiled and unbelieving, nothing is pure; but even their mind and conscience are defiled. They profess to know God, but in works they deny Him, being abominable, disobedient, and disqualified for every good work." {Titus 1:15-16} "I want to be the only one On the throne of your heart The only one that moves you I will remove the names of your lovers Even the memory of their face will fade away I will write on you My name forever I will be known by you as Faithful and True So come back, come back I'll take you to the start Come back, come back I'll take you to your First Love." { Only One by Harvest} There is a terrible habit one must be cautious of when approaching Scripture: the habit of skipping over things that you don't think are for you. I slip into this more than I'd like to admit. I close my eyes when the words are hard, I thumb through the pages for feel-good books. Or ...

Someone told me today that they try not to think in terms of years, but rather, days. I was thinking something along those lines this week as I prepared for the celebration of a new year's dawn. That word alone struck me. Dawn. Sunrise. My friend said that he wakes up, puts his yesterday behind him as he gets on his knees. It could have been the worst, most sinful day ... but he refuses to bear that shame for a full year when the Lord's mercies are new every morning. So he starts each day with a prayer for forgiveness & a fresh start. (Note: I am in no ways endorsing a lifestyle that does not strive for holiness & then just says, "oh, God will forgive me." Neither was my friend. We are simply refusing to carry around chains that the Lord stands ready & willing to break.) As I anticipated 2017, I simply asked the Lord for a new morning. I can't erase every hard thing of 2016 from my memory or my reality - it changed me, & my world. But...

I reached towards heaven To cover Your eyes Ever since I was seen I've wanted to hide And ever since I hid I've wished they would see -- Beggars, saints and scholars -- And deem me worthy Camouflaged, I lay there Begging for notice In shame, doubt and fear To be seen like this To be caught in my sin Exposed as myself Naked broken poser No doll on a shelf Look away, look away Away from me, Lord Yet You don't shift Your gaze You don't say a word I realize it was You - That it was Your sight That I tried to remove Yet craved morn and night Put my roots in darkness Ran rather than fight As if this was progress I was made for the light Look away, look away Away from me, Lord Yet You don't shift Your gaze You don't say a word I dare look up again You're somehow nearer Your love won't look away It's ne'er been clearer Where are my accusers? Where are my idols? All of them were scattered And here I stand, w...