I like this place.

It’s more spacious.

 

I’ve lived in a sardine can

for so long,

stuck inside

little compartmentalized

spaces

that I created 

with my ever-active mind,

eager to organize everything

especially

that oh so elusive

rogue 

called

Time.

 

 

Slippery devil.

Wouldn’t stick to the schedule.

Wouldn’t stay in the box.

 

 

When you can’t control something

It can scare you.

 

 

So I started to fear it.

Fear losing my grip on it. 

Not having enough of it.

Always chasing it down,

Trying to get it

To behave.

 

 

 

“Time doesn’t work like that,”

She said it calmly.

“Life doesn’t work like that.

You can’t live like that.”

 

 

I had no idea

how delightful

elbow room

could be.

 

That a good life

doesn’t need to be

a scheduled life,

a perfectly routined life,

a “controlled,”

rigid life.

 

 

A good life 

could be

and is always

a little

unpredictable.

 

I can give

my mental hamster wheel

a rest.

 

 

She continued with a smile,

“Your new phrase will be,

Let it go.”

 

 

A good life,

full of joy and meaning

is empty of

stress.

 

It’s empty of

exhaustion as a status symbol.

Empty of 

hyper-productivity.

 

 

Cause my worth is not based

On my ability to manage time

To the nth degree.

My worth is not based 

On my ability

To get stuff done

early, on time, in time, 

all the time. 

 

 

My worth is based on

who Jesus says I am.

Jesus.

The One who said,

“Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy-ladened,

And I will give you rest.”

Time doesn’t need

To be 

put in

time-out.

Crammed in

the sardine can

of my orderly life,

with zero space

to breath.

 

Time

can be

open

and free

and not

a threat.

Not a liability. 

 

 

He holds our times

In His hands.

 

He’s the time-keeper.

I can take

a break

pretending to be

God.

 

 

I can

find some elbow room.

I can stop doing.

I can start being.

I like this place.

Watch me

Stretch.

Advent

brings me

down

to my knees

like the snow

falling.

“Let it be.”

 

Saved by the birth

of the Child…

Just Jesus’ birth,

just this incarnation,

this is redemption.

The cross is coming,

but for now,

it’s the Child.

 

But the Child’s destiny is secure.

He will die,

once and for all

sin will lose its power.

The perfect sacrifice.

before the foundations of the world,
Christ was slain.

The Child in Mary’s arms

born to die,

born to defeat death,

born Saviour.

 

The incarnation alone

breathes out

restoration,

redemption,

salvation.

Cause the woman’s seed,

the virgin’s pregnancy,

the impossible,

biologically,

was reversing

the curse.

Unravelling,

the past,

where our first mother was convinced

to distrust

God,

Mary, our holy mother, was convicted

to trust

God.

 

And we are back

to the love story

in the garden,

where God walks

with man.

Christmas is

God and man together again,

seed of the woman,

Crushing the seed of the enemy.

 

No more division.

Christmas tells me

I am saved.

The Hero has come,

His victory is won.

Right from

a young girl’s

“Let it be,”

the cross’ work was complete.

 

Christmas carries

the entire message,

the whole weight

and glory

of redemption,

Like God

curling into

 a virgin’s womb.

 

May my, “Let it be,”

crush the enemy.

may my trust

in a faithful God,

bring victory.

 

May Christ in me,

the hope of glory,

birth salvation

and hope

this advent.

Let it be.

 

“Christ is the Lord,

O praise, His name forever,

His power and glory

Ever more shall reign.

His power and glory

Ever more shall reign.”

 

I include God

in my thoughts.

 

It stretches my brain

to do it.

 

Cause God is broad

and wide

and can’t be contained

within my small synapses.

 

 

 

Imagine a future

and not include God

and your bound to get

bound up in fear

right quick.

 

Maybe I can imagine

a gracious future.

one that is spacious enough

to give God

the length and breadth

He needs

to fill.

More than enough

space

for the space-Creator

to elbow out

every single

“what if”

till they no longer

hover round

the edges.

More than enough

space

for faith to put down

some healthy roots

and hope

to water it well.

 

 

God

is going to be

present

in each 

present moment

ahead

so I can trust

in each present moment

God is big enough

to handle

the very present problems

IF I give Him

space.

 

God, You have

permission

to expand and fill

my mind-scape.

 

Holy Spirit,

take over

my erratic imagination.

 

Jesus, reign in and 

reign over my wild

“what ifs.”

 

I include God,

my ever 

faithful,

loving,

patient,

promise-keeping,

miracle-working,

fear-destroying,

way-making

God.

This is what I’ve done

and I’m quite proud of it,

and it all was birthed

from God’s good heart

for me.

I stopped

chasing the clock.

I stopped

cramming the hour.

I stopped

bowing over and over

to my to-do list.

I opened up

one palm

and then the other

and let things

fall as they may.

I accepted the time

given.

 

I accepted the time

I need.

 

I released

expectations

and pride

and bragging rights.

 

I love my work

more and more

when I actually show up

rested.

I love my life

more and more

when I actually let it

breath

and not try to

schedule it to death.

 

I spread it out now,

all the things, 

I used to jam together,

kneeling before the altar

of efficiency

and chasing after that

elusive nymph 

of novelty.

Now every day

I take

what’s given

and not try

to squeeze out

what’s not.

 

My whole body

thanks me.

My mind and spirit

thank me.

My heart

thanks me.

 

Hustling

till it hurts

is not the goal.

 

Walks with Jesus

under the privacy

of a black cap sky

with diamond flakes

flashing underfoot

and soul songs

on my lips…

that’s the goal.

 

“The life that pleases Me

is a ife lived

in the gratitude of grace,

always choosing to 

walk with Me

in what is right.

This is the sacrifice

I desire from you!

If you do this,

more of my salvation

will unfold for you.”

Psalm 50: 23 TPT

The scattered claps

of a grateful creation

go round and round

with the wind.

 

You did it again,

Father.

That season of bounty

of green,

of growing

and then

when all that’s left

are the seeds

of the future,

and the crisp

clapping leaves,

applauding “Well done,”

then it’s time. 

Time to fold our hands,

to breathe,

to let go

with creation

as she

takes a sabbath

and falls

to her rest.

Take comfort

In the cycle,

That rotates

Our calendars

And accept the seasons

As they come.

 

Know the designer

hasn’t yet failed us

and that

purpose is laden

in each alteration.

 

 

There is a guarantee in there.

That growth and light,

And rest and darkness,

They were all,

And are all

 called

“Good.”

 

 

The wind

shakes the hands

and they scatter

to the earth.

 

 

Here we rest,

with them,

and here we breath,

“It is good”

with His most grateful

Creation.

Even 

the hard

pathways

overflow

with abundance.

To this truth

I testify.

 

 

Hard pathways

give you some

blisters

on your 

worn out

heart.

 

 

But 

to not 

tread them

is mostly

not

an option.

 

Hard pathways

lead us

through high mountains

where we are

blind to the beauty

because the 

weight we carry

is weighing us 

down.

 

 

Hard pathways

take us deep

into confusing 

forests

where we are

oblivious to the glory

because the 

anxiety is rising

and cutting off our air supply.

 

But even

the hard pathways

overflow

with abundance.

 

 

Abundance is a person.

Abundance

drips

down

all over

those 

hard pathways.

God 

overflows

into our 

weakness,

our worry,

our hard pathway.

 

Sometimes,

oftentimes,

the one time

we’ll give God

the time,

our time,

is on

the hard

pathways.

 

 

And just there

where we are

most desperate,

most lost,

most ready

to give up

Abundance

drips in,

and then

overflows.

 

God 

in the tears.

God

in the dark.

God

in the hard.

 

 

Revealing

his superhuman,

supernatural,

just plain “wow”

ability

to recycle

all the hard

into more goodness

then we can handle.

 

 

So crown the year,

with all it’s

tears and pain,

and all its

joy and fruit,

with a bountiful harvest.

Overflow

all the hard

with all of you,
Papa.

With all 

Your sweet, unexpected

Abundance.

 

 

Inspired from Psalm 65: 11 NLT

Photo cred @christianne.faith

 

I loved 

the rhythm

of those days

in the sun,

among the trees,

near the water

lapping up

on the rocks.

 

 

I loved

the rhythm

of twist and pull

as I created

and sang

each flowing melody

and the light

fell soft.

 

I loved 

the rhythm

of you,

unhurried,

slowing this

bustling butterfly

to a serene

and holy

pace.

I loved

the brisk, refreshing water

as blue and clear

as the sky

and swimming into

your warm arms

to be held

weightless.

 

I loved 

the space

we created

just for us

to be and love

and know

God deeper

together.

 

What is it 

about coming back

that makes me just

pick up all that

“non-stop” again?

To lose the rhythm?

 

Someone 

once said,

why can’t

our rhythm

at the lake

be our rhythm

all the year?

 

Not ignoring

responsibility,

but taking less on.

Leaving some room

on the plate.

Seeing beauty

and potential 

in open time

instead of cramming

all the energy and ideas we have

into this

limited

time.

 

 

Under

a sky

so thick

with stars,

like salt

strewn about

lavishly,

we soaked 

it all in

deep.

 

 

My prayer 

this year is that

I limit myself

to free myself.

 

To be present,

over perfect.

To moderate

this activity hungry

appetite.

 

To live

this un-rushed

rhythm

fully present

with Papa 

and

with you.

 

Dear 25 year old me, 

When you feel

tied down,

stuck,

like a lid

is capping

your dreams

and there is a quenching

limit

on your

freedom,

money,

time,

opportunities,

like your youth is being

wasted

slow

and there is this pressing need

to hurry

and go

somewhere,

anywhere

but here…

 

 

Please know,

dear heart,

that all that

struggle

will eventually

slow

and something new

will be released

deep inside.

Wait for it.

 

 

 

It’s like being planted.

Confining, yes,

but only in being planted

can we grow.

And growth carries more

meaning,

more wholeness,

more of everything

you deep down

desire.

 

 

One day you will,

dear heart,

open your eyes to where you are planted,

and no longer see it as

limitation.

You will see it as

life-giving.

Those round you,

growing too,

new ones joining

the spacious garden,

making room,

creating beauty

together.

 

 

A settledness 

will come over you.

very slowly.

A lot of self

will need to be sacrificed first.

Then it will come.

 

Not a settledness as in

you settled for less,

but the opposite.

 

You finally settled into

all the goodness,

all the delight,

all the expansive freedom

found 

in the awesome plan

of a God whose heart is always for you.

 

For your prosperity.

For your growth.

For your maturity.

 

It will come.

Please know

your value is not

based on

your exciting life experiences.

Being able to tell a good story after.

Having people say, “Wow!”

Your purpose is not

reliant on

catching the world’s eye.

Making a mark undeniable,

loud and clear.

Your life is worth living

even if

you haven’t 

done it all

before you’re 30.

Life is not a competition.

It’s not a race.

You will burn out

if you don’t

slow down and

take a breather.

 

Look around

where you are planted

and take a breather.

It’s far more simple here.

And there is so much life.

Practice gratitude.

Practice Sabbath.

 

See WHO you are becoming

as more important

then WHERE you are.

 

See those dear hearts around you

as divinely planted

and of more value

than any world stage

you could aspire to.

 

See God’s purpose

in their life

of higher value

than obsessing over

your own life.

 

Give God grace.

He can make something

out of your life

without you always

taking the reins.

 

Stop FOMOing.

Lean harder

into Holy Spirit

and every day

will be FULL

and you won’t be

missing out

on anything

you’re called to do.

 

Be all here now.

Give up control.

Roll with it.

But mostly,

be all here now.

 

Living in the present

is a greater gift

You can give

the world

than anything else

you could dream up.

 

 

Be all here now.

Grow those roots deep.

Lean into Holy Spirit.

See the value of those around you.

 

And,

Dear heart,

Take courage.

 

Your dreams won’t die here.

They will become

here.

You are not going to regret

one moment

of this wonderful, simple,

profoundly meaningful life,

God has given you.

 

Trust me on this.

 

Love,

Me

Dear Self,                                                                                                     April 22, 19

When you feel run off your feet

And like the day can’t fit

All you need to do

And time slips away too fast…

 

Remember

You like your full life.

You like your to do lists.

You make them even when they aren’t necessary.

You like days that fly more than days that drag.

You like your full, wonderful life.

 

 

 

When you feel

Shackled to the same ho-hum routine

And the endless meal-planning,

Lunch packing, grocery shopping,

Chore doing, exercise rushing seems monotonous…

 

 

Remember

You like your routined life.

You like it’s comfort and constancy.

You like meals at home and clean rooms.

You like working out and reaching goals.

You like the purpose and joy it all gives you.

You like your full, wonderful, routined life.

 

 

When your evenings are jammed

With more social events than you have energy for

And the weekends are much the same

And you just wish for a quiet day at home

With a blissful NADA on the schedule…

 

 

Remember

You like your community. A lot.

You love how they keep you alive and joyful, loving life together.

You love how they fill all the cracks and become family.

You love how they give you spiritual support.

You love how they bless you by trusting you to be in their life too.

You love your full, wonderful, routined, vibrant community-filled life.

 

 

When your Sabbath is open

And stretches out long

And all the books have been read

And all the walks have been walked

And all the naps have been had

And your just vibrating to get back to the “to do’s”…

 

 

Remember

You need your rest. Margin is healthy.

You are limited. Your soul, body, spirit needs to be still.

Your presence is more valuable than your performance

Or your productivity. You are worth taking care of.

You do not have to feel guilty, or fear missing out.

You love your full, wonderful, routined, intentionally restful life.

 

This is the journey

Of how to be content.

By remembering in the busy

That rest will come

And remembering in the rest

Why I love the busy.

This is the journey

Of accepting all I’ve been given

And cherishing all I’ve created

And never taking it all for granted.

This is the journey

Of loving the life You gave me, Papa.

When it’s easy and when it’s hard.

There’s no other life I’d rather live

But this one, right now, with You.

My mind feels washed,

hung out to dry,

neatly folded,

all in order,

tucked away.

 

My spirit feels alive,

delighted in,

happy,

centered.

My soul feels heard,

seen,

known,

accepted.

My body feels fresh,

rested,

healthy,

whole.

My heart feels held,

assured,

hopeful,

comforted.

All praise to Jesus.

Rivendell, 2019