Love Sets Us Free

"I have to tell him."

I told myself this as I was driving home from work, lost in music, and lost in my own mind.

"I have to be honest. I can't be afraid to tell the truth."

I kept driving home, on the back roads of north Georgia, my window cracked. It was a random warm day in fall. I felt the sun sweeping in through the window and counteract the cold air coming in through the cracked window of the car.

I started taking in the colors of the tree's as I passed them, noticing their vibrant colors, I started drinking in the music as it danced it's way from the speakers to my ears. I was focusing on anything other than the words I needed to say.

I finally worked up the nerve. I finally convinced myself that I needed to say it.

"God, I know you are all I need. I know this but I need to be honest with you. I need to tell you the truth. It doesn't feel that way. I'm not sure I truly believe that you are enough."

There. I said it. I told God exactly how I felt.

Here's something I've come to learn about my relationship with God. I'm really quick to tell him the right answers. I'm like that little girl in Sunday school who is halfway asleep most of the time but when I actually pay attention and actually know the answer to a question, I can't help but blurt it out. I know the answer and I know it's right, therefore, I want to make sure everyone knows I know the 'right' answer.

This isn't working out for me. This 'right answer' living. It isn't working.

It's time I get into the mud, get dirty, and be HONEST with God. Tell him what I really think, even if it's not the right way to think. I need to tell him when I don't truly believe in something.

Because if I've learned anything about God lately it's that His love is bigger than us. His love is bigger than our doubts, our screw ups, our minds, etc. It's beyond comprehension and even though he's the first and only who has the right to judge me, He'll most likely be the last, that is if he hasn't already forgiven and forgotten about what I have done.

I've so badly wanted love to be a clean cut deal. I've so badly wanted it to be something that I could carry in my pocket and pick out when needed. But it's not the small and it's not that simple. Love is big and complicated and confusing and uncomfortable and most of all, IT'S FILLING. It's not a sugary substance that makes you feel good for the moment, but hungry later. No, that's not love. Love if a massive steak that makes you full for the next 3 weeks. Love breaks you where you need to be broken. Love calls you out in the area's you need to be called out in. But love is ultimately on your side. And through the breaking and burning away of the harmful sores we've allowed through love impostors, love takes away everything that has been holding us back. Love breaks us free from the chains and allows a freedom we never knew existed before.

Love sets us free.

It's set me free to the point that I can be real with God. I don't have to know all the right answers and I necessarily do not have to believe all the right answers. I can be honest and trust that if I'm struggling in believing something, I do not have to guilt myself, I do not have to hide. I can come before God, admit where I am and trust he'll take things from there.

What a beautiful place to be in. It's so beautiful.

We lose.

We lose.

At some point in time, in this life, you will lose something.

It might be a pen, keys, your mind, a job, a dream, a person.... Whatever it might be, the truth is that you will experience loss, multiple times, through out this life.

Even though we lose at times, we also gain.

I tend to just focus on the things I lose. I fixate on the losses of my life, wondering, and guessing why I lost these things, this person, etc. This is actually a horrible habit of mine. I will fixate on the things I have lost as if I was entitled to those things. As if the things, people, circumstance that entered my life that I put my hands on, my fingerprints onto, are mine to keep.

I fixate to the point that I get bitter about losing. I get bitter, mad, and begin to demand answers. I put my hands on my hips, look up to God and demand an explanation.

"Why would you bring me this just to take it away. WHY?!"

Well, God answers, but not as I always expect him to.

"I give and I take away. Find a heart thankful for both."

Find a heart grateful for both.

To thank God for what he gave, even though he took it away.

To thank God, even though you had to let go of something so beautiful.

It's not worth the bitterness to hold on. It's not worth the poison that seeps in with bitterness. It's just not worth it.

It's continuing in the act of letting go. It's thanking God for allowing a moment, even if it was short lived. It's finding beauty in that small moment and being grateful you were blessed with it for a short while.

For everything is a gift, we are not entitled to everything. God gives us good things, God gives us parts of him, but God knows us and he knows the timing we need with it to make it just enough. So I choose gratitude. Gratitude that God trusted me, for that small moment, with that sweet, sweet gift.

She Knew

She laid in bed alone with only the hum of the fan in the room. She could still smell the reminense of the candle she had blown out minutes ago.

As she felt the warmth of her skin linger into the covers she thought about you. She tried remembering your words, but she couldn't. She tried remembering your warmth, but it had faded. She could only remember fragments of you. Pieces that really never fit together.

As she continued to lay in bed and allow the heaviness of her eyes to take over, she began to feel a peace and gratitude overwhelm her heart.

You were never meant to stay, boy.

She knew, you were never meant to stay.

It's hard being human

Tonight, I cooked dinner for myself, I danced and sang to Delta Rae while baking banana nut bread. I watched some of my favorite shows on Hulu. I found myself at the end of the night, laying on my couch, lights off, candles lit, music playing, reading beautiful words on my screen, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude and happiness in my heart.

8 months ago, I wouldn't have been this happy to be alone. You can't be alone when you're running from something inside of you. Being alone with yourself becomes near impossible.

8 months ago, I wouldn't have been here. It's amazing what can change in just 8 months. The trees might still have the same leaves, the colors of the wall might be the same, the amount of miles that are driven might be the same, yet, everything is different.


The colors in the sky stand out more. You never knew there could be so many colors in one day. You never noticed how beautiful words can be. You never noticed how you always feel like you have to have an answer, always. You never thought you could experience freedom like this.

Freedom.

I always heard people speak of it. People write poems about freedom. People write songs about freedom, but you never really knew it existed until now.

Life is hard. We don't say that enough.

Life. Is. Hard.

We're quick to point out how we're not handling life right or what we're doing wrong. We're quick to try to fix the hardness and make things softer rather than embracing the hardness.

Life is hard. I found myself saying that over and over to people. As tears came streaming down sweet little faces this week, I found myself saying over and over again, "Life is hard, hon. Life is hard." And with each sweet face, with tears streaming down their cheeks in different directions, they each nodded their head in agreement.

Why have I never said that before? Why have I not just called it out. It's always been there. It's always sat in the room with me, no matter who the person was, it's always been there. Why do we not just admit together, LIFE. IS. DAMN. HARD.  

Instead we want to point fingers. Instead we want to convince ourselves that it's really easy and that we are somehow getting it wrong.

Well please let me clear that up for you.

No. It's not easy. No. It won't ever become easy. The minute things become easy, you'll lose interest. You'll stop growing.

Even though it's not easy and it's hard, it's doable.

Let me say it again. IT'S DOABLE.

You WILL get over this rough patch. You WILL get through the trials. You WILL find joy and happiness. Just because you do not have it in your hands right now, doesn't mean it's not on its way.

And you always, ALWAYS have a choice. You might not have a choice in the type of circumstance that come your way, but you always have a choice in how you handle it.

YOU HAVE A CHOICE IN HOW YOU DEAL WITH THIS HARD LIFE.

Please, don't ever forget that.

No matter what, you are not trapped. You might be in a dead zone in solving it, but you are not trapped. Talk to someone. Believe me, I get trapped in my own mind at times and it's amazing how someone else's perspective can pull me out, get me moving again. Don't be afraid to be honest about how you feel. Don't be afraid to be honest with yourself.

That's where my freedom began, it began in me tearing down the walls and being honest with myself. I had to look at all the junk in my life and admit it was junk. It wasn't antique store material, it was JUNK. I had to allow myself to be human and to feel.

Emotions are hard. They are hard to handle and hard to deal with, but whatever you do, DO NOT RUN FROM THEM. They cleanse you, they purify you. They get all the old shit laying around and they GET IT OUT OF YOUR BODY. Just like sweating helps detox the body, I believe expressing emotions in a healthy manner detox's our mind. They are always uncomfortable in the process and if you're anything like me, you look like a total idiot when you are having a full on emotional moment. But do it anyways. You'll feel a difference in yourself down the road.

I can't thank God enough for who he's creating me to be. He finds a way to love me. Everyday, he finds a new way to love me.

Stranger Love

Rain was sprinkling the Monday ground. Traffic was bumper to bumper due to the slick roads. You came to my mind, as you do from time to time. I've learned to brush you off, but on this cold, wet morning you lingered longer than normal.

I remember that moment. I was in this very seat and I heard it rush out of you. You didn't realize the words that were coming out. You didn't know the weight or the impact of those words. You didn't know words could weigh so much. I didn't know they could weigh that much either.

I remember how I went numb, speechless. I'm never speechless, I alway have something to say. But in that moment, all I could do was listen. All I could do was sit and pick up each piece of gold you were throwing out at me. That's why they weighed so much, they were gold nuggets.

Then it hit me. I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but it hit me as I sat in traffic on a slick road full of red brake lights.

You were a stranger.

You never felt like a stranger, from the moment I met you, you never felt like a stranger to me.

But you were. You hadn't known me long enough to know the things you knew. We only had a few late night conversations under our belt, but not enough for you to see what you saw. I let people see what I want them to see, but you went deeper. You saw past the closed door.

You were a stranger that night. A stranger who poured a weight of love onto me. A love that is normally only conceived through years of conversation, minutes upon minutes of countless moments. 

But our moments were few, our time was limited and yet, I've never felt more love. 

I'll always remember that night. The night I was given pure love from a stranger. I'll always remember how I didn't know how to receive it. I didn't know how to take a love like that and tuck it away. Love changed for me that night. It took on a new face, it took a new name. All because of a stranger. All because of one stranger.

Blankets of Colors and Metaphors

I'm a nerd.

It's true.

I love what I do and I love learning more about what I do.

When I was in school, I took a class where we took a particular career assessment called the Holland Assessment. Our professor actually had us do our own assessment of ourselves before taking the actual assessment.

I remember her reading off the different categories. When she read the one for Social, I knew that was me and didn't give much thought to any other category. When I found out we had to pick a total of three categories, I was baffled. I had no idea what to pick for the other two. I remember finally picking Artistic as my second choice.

The things is, I've never seen myself as artsy. I love everything about art. I love painting. I love music. I love poetry. And yet, I never saw myself as artsy.

Even though when I was a kid, I was all about coloring, drawing, painting.

Even though when I was in the 11th grade, my American Literature teacher made me fall in love with poetry and I found myself writing poems upon poems that year.

I have been obsessed with music as far as I can remember. I enjoy creating things.

Yet..... yet.... artsy was never a word I used to describe myself.

I recently started revisiting this part of myself. I can't describe to you how it feels to express myself through poetry again. I cannot describe the joy I feel when I sit in my bed (yes, in my bed) and pull out my little paint brushes and watercolors and watch as the colors collide and bleed into one another.

Finding this side of myself has been so liberating. It feels free to be here. To know there's a whole other side of myself, made of little pieces that just want to shine. They just want to shine.

I still wouldn't label myself as 'artsy', but I'm starting to claim it as a part of me. I'm making more room for it in my life.

I'm wrapping myself up in this thing called art. I'm lying in a blanket of colors and metaphors, smiling like a little girl on Christmas.

It feels good. It feels so good.

Sometimes

Sometimes,

You wake up and the warmth of your bed tells you to stay a bit longer.

Sometimes,

Your thoughts are like a never ending record, playing the same things over and over again.

Sometimes,

You can't help but smile.

Sometimes,

You can't help but keep smiling because nothing triggered that smile.

Sometimes,

Things break and you so badly want someone to come fix it.

Sometimes,

Someone will.

Sometimes,

You find the strength to do it yourself.

Sometimes,

You doubt your own ability to create.

Sometimes,

You look at yourself through others eyes.

Sometimes,

At the end of the day, when you are quieting your thoughts from your day, you hear a soft whisper that says, "You have no need to worry."

And sometimes,

You believe it.