Journey of the Heart

He may let them rest in a feeling of security, but his eyes are on their ways. Job 24

I've been away from home, in all senses. I've been travelling like a fiend lately. First, the Carolina coast, then the Big Apple, and now the honky tonk capitol of the world. I've been invigorated by life in each place. The quiet gentleness of a cool waterfront wind, the ever-evolving energy of the City, the sights and sounds of the South. I find beauty and truth in each. I'm grateful for the chance to experience scenery change. It's good for the soul every now and again to see the way the world spins in different corners of this map. 

I could go on and on about what I saw, tasted, and experienced in New York. That city has a way of weaseling its way into my heart more and more with each visit. Creativity inhabits every square inch of that place, and it's life-giving simply to breathe its air. I had the chance to attend the National Stationery Show while there this go-round. I met folks whose blogs I've only ever read from my Southern station. I saw paper goodness galore, gained a bit of confidence in my craft. It was nothing short of a gift from God to be able to walk among the folks I did. 

In all my travels, I've realized, too, the wandering path of my own heart. No matter where I go, what He is doing in me is steady. He is at work in the shadows and shame of my sin. He is digging into my insecurity and wrong-thinking. No matter where I turn, He is there. 

I've been reading this book lately. I wasn't expecting it to pierce me the way that it has. But, it has deeply affected my thoughts, my conversations, and my dealings with the Lord in the last few weeks. Larry talks at length about how people tend to seek peaceful pain-free easy lives rather than God. We pray, weep, and gnash our teeth when things go poorly. We pray our way out of rough patches, and then come into seasons of goodness, thanking God for His love.

Larry all but uses me by name. 

I've been so focused on getting past the pain of heartbreak. I've wanted to feel better way more than I've wanted to know God. Fact. Only recently was I able to admit to myself and others that for a long time, I have wanted marriage/success/happiness more than I have wanted to be in His presence. It's tricky, sometimes. It feels like God's goodness equates to His blessing. Not so.

Job was one who walked that road. Stripped of every good thing, He came to the end of himself. Out of emptiness, out of despair, he declared:

God understands the way to [wisdom] and he alone knows where it dwells... When he made a decree for the rain and a path for the thunderstorms, then he looked at wisdom and appraised it. And he said to the human race, 'The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding. (Job 28)

I'm being honest with myself, those I love, with God now. I've been away from home. Wet from thunderstorms, I want to find shelter in Him. I want trust that rain is grace. I want to understand that the point of life is not my comfort. I want to palms-open-wide assert that I want Christ. No more, no less.

What's new again

In a few days, I'll head to the inspiratio-land that is New York. I'll savor the tastes, sights, and smells of a place that, time and time again, has brought new parts of me to life. I'll visit with friends, make some new ones, and open my eyes wider to the growing, changing world. No doubt, I will have some things to share about my time there. I simply cannot wait.

Relishing the Small Things

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This spring has been a great teacher. The gentle season has bestowed no small amount of wisdom on the importance of easing pace, of looking for beauty everywhere, of valuing the simple-ness of life as it is ordinarily lived. These pages have supplemented the message that joy can be found around the table, in a spoonful of kitchen's craft, in a morning ritual. I'm so grateful for the way the Lord has drawn my attention to the truth in Ecclesiastes 8:

So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun (v. 15)


It's easy to notice crumbs, imperfections. It takes more awareness to see what's good and downright art-ful in the everyday. Lord, thank you for flavors, and for friends to relish them with. Thank you for truth, and for slow mornings used to soak it in.

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Pat Benatar knows. Musicians, artists, poets everywhere echo. The battle of the heart isn't easily won. It's not new. On the flip side of joys are let-downs, dashed hopes, and disappointments. I've tasted of them. But, in trudging through some tough breaks, I'm learning I have got to choose to make room for hope. God longs to bring new life to my dry bones. He longs to regain His rightful place in my deepest heart. It'd be easy—and much more natural—to be defined by pain.

But, God help me, I want to laugh at the days to come.

Lingering memory of Dahlonega's Bear on the Square this past weekend, coupled with a recent screening of Cold Mountain (Nicole, I'm seriously coveting your coif), has me loving me some banjo and fiddle-heavy music right now. Oh, play me some mountain music.

Hurray for the Riff Raff (out of NOLA) was out at the Old 280 Boogie in Waverly, AL this weekend.
John Grimm and Beverly Smith brought some Old Time tunes to North Georgia
Colossal Gospel's out of Leeds, AL
Emmy Rossum's "Barbara Allen" never goes out of style
Neither does Jack White's "Wayfaring Stranger"

What songs are you singing, folks?

Trial by Fire

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Surely the righteous will never be shaken;

they will be remembered forever.

They will have no fear of bad news;

their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord.

Their hearts are secure, they will have no fear.

Psalm 112:7-8

Just last night, I was talking with some folks about the importance of building a firm foundation of trust in the Lord. We talked about (me, with a new assurance) the fact that storms, wind, and rain are promised to come. It's not an if, it's a when.

I always thought I'd be a woman sure enough of His goodness to be able to endure bad weather, but if I'm honest, I feel like I was hanging on by a thread over the last few months. I did not live like one who knew she was being grasped tightly by a loving God. I did not operate out of the above scriptural truth. I was swimming in my own fear.

So, I'm strapping on the tool belt and bringing out the hammer. I'm praying to be able to drive nails into what's immovable and believe with my life (and not just my words) that, come what may, in Him, I cannot be shaken. In a season of peace, I want to be fortified with this truth.

Sure, I truly believe I'll mourn again. I'll endure rough patches, and watch others I love fight through difficult seasons. None of us are immune. Despair waits around the corner. And, when we come upon it, we can sit in the dark for a while, grieve loss, and feel sad. But, in the end, we stand in the hope in the Gospel, in the end, we can walk into the light.

** This verse always reminds me of Patty.

Celebrating Beauty

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You don't have to be impressed. My most recent revelation isn't anything you haven't heard before. But, it's true. It's something that I've heard and 'known' for as long as I've walked this earth. Only recently when I said it out loud and understood it with my life experience, did I realize it's profundity.

Struggle, hardship, and difficulty are synonymous with life itself.

Peace and joy on earth are coupled with heartbreak and sorrow.

Ashes and beauty take turns.

The most recent season of my life has been one of the tougher I've endured. Hell, the twenties themselves haven't been altogether peachy. Every year has brought with it loss, self-doubt, financial uncertainty. The Lord has broken me time and time again, revealed my selfishness, my false self-sufficiency, my ugly ugly sin.

And in the midst of all of that, there has been great joy. And astounding beauty. And plenty of laughter.

You see, they go together. They weave in and out of each other like fabric fibers. Once I get through one hard thing, it doesn't mean I'm excused from life's hard knocks forever. Financial/relational/aspirational peace may eventually come, but only in Christ does it really last.

If I'm going to enjoy this life, I'm going to have to choose to celebrate who my God is through it all. When life is colorful and easy, I'll have to remember to praise Him, from whom it all flows. When I grin and bear through the worst, I'll put my pennies in the bank that, it too, is grace.

Shauna Niequist says, "When you realize that the story of your life could be told a thousand different ways, that you could tell it over and over as a tragedy, but you choose to call it epic, that's when you start to realize what celebration is."

I've seen the underside of beauty this week, in the lives of my church, in the hearts of my friends. I've realized that if it's not me, it's her, or her. Unrest isn't hard to spot when you look for it in the lives of the people you love.

But hope—a believer's underground root system—is there to be noticed. Life is in the heart-pricking depth of someone's words, it's in the flowers in your front yard, it's in the toothless grin of your six year-old next door neighbor. Lord, open our eyes, that we might see the epic story in the daily and the Divine.