Something Beautiful

I wrote this poem in response to a struggle that a friend is going through, and my own struggle to understand God's hand in the middle of this situation. If you are facing a challenge in your life, it is my prayer that you will endure in trusting. Blessings. Endure. Praying, seeking, hoping, and for what, another disappointment? To see the fulfillment of the promise so near and then to fall flat as it is wrenched away, pulled from your outstretched, reaching hand. I don't understand. I don't want to understand. I want to be angry and cry and scream at the unfairness of it all, at the heart-wrenching sorrow that fills my soul on your behalf. I don't walk in your shoes, so I don't understand your pain. You say your heart is a graveyard, and I understand what it's like to have hopes buried under the pain and death that reality brings. I have my own graveyard. In my struggle to understand, I yell at God. Why do you withhold good, when it is in your power to do it?

I woke up early this morning. Wednesday mornings I wake up early anyway because we have 6 AM prayer at church. But this morning I woke up an hour earlier than I needed to. God woke me up. I love it when He does that. Now I groused when I saw what time it was and felt like I hadn't been asleep nearly long enough, but He was immediately telling me scriptures to read this morning.  And I really love it when He does that. Sometimes that's the quietest point in my mind during a day, so it's easiest for Him to get His message through before everything else starts clouding my thoughts. I love when I get to tangibly feel God's Spirit, and this morning it was immediate when I woke up. I just felt an incredible excitement for what He is doing, how He is moving.  It was the excitement of a child on Christmas morning who jumps on his parents bed, waking them up because he just can't wait any longer for presents. Except in this case it was my Father who gives good gifts, say

Apparently my afternoon nap was not such a great idea. It has been a long time since I have been this wide awake this early in the morning. Here's to hoping that writing will get my thoughts to slow down a bit.  I was re-reading some of my old blog posts today, and I realized that while I have often talked about my sorrows and my frustrations that accompany my unmet desire to be married, I have infrequently written about the joy, peace and contentment I have found in my singleness. I have spent a lot of time complaining about my singleness, and not a whole lot of time telling you about what a sweet gift it has become to me.  Yes, my singleness is a gift. And I'm not talking about the kind of gift that you wish came with a gift receipt so you could take it back and get what you really want. I'm talking about my singleness being an incredible, priceless, valuable treasure. God has given me this season of singleness for a purpose. While I have at times wondered what that p

I read an article that a friend posted on twitter today, and it made me equally furious and sad. It was an article from the NY Times about men and women in our society, and how women no longer need men. It talked about how women don't need men to reproduce or raise children, and how although historically men were the breadwinners in the family that's not really the case any more. So essentially this article is saying that men are no longer necessary for any part of a woman's life. My greatest point of disappointment came when I realized that the article was written by a man. As a single woman reading that I was disappointed in women who believe this. I was disappointed in women who have not realized how necessary men are to our lives. I was disappointed in women who are not encouraging the men around them.  I am something of an old-fashioned girl. I still believe in romance and in being wooed and won by a worthy man. I still believe in a family that consists of a husba

It really is the little things in life that bring quietness to my heart and a smile to my face. The simple joys give me an adequate perspective on what really matters. The quiet moments rise up and meet me in the place of my heart that longs for a quiet, simple life.  I have been writing a lot lately. I have been thinking deep thoughts and dreaming big dreams. I have been expecting God to show up in my life and in the lives of those around me. I have been experiencing a new dimension of my relationship with God.  There is a part of me that both loves and hates seasons of struggle. I hate those seasons because they are hard and challenging and too often when I go through those seasons I feel hopeless. But then I also love those seasons because I can feel my roots sinking deeper into the soil of God's Word. I can feel a fierce determination rising up in my heart to overcome. I love seasons of struggle because even more than seasons of feasting they teach me about who I am and Who