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Twenty years

Youth in bloom
Maturity in it's waking
Year spent giving
Year spent taking

Twelve months imprinted
Seemingly wiser than last
Some innocence lost
Some milestones passed

Making of a woman
Dangerous at best
That searing first kiss
That love confessed

Twenty-twenty hindsight
That's what they say
To know pain as companion
To have dreams swept away

Beauty found despair
Amidst all the rubble
Though scars remain
Though emotions still juggle

Loved by her Father
Grace a well fitted name
He fought for her heart
He carried all shame

Breathtaking adventures
He gave her delights
Journey brought healing
Journey restored hope to sight

In one short chapter
She learned, and learned well
Only one knows her best
Only in Him does life dwell

The years will add quickly
Colorful plans in the making
Grand visions in fashion
Grand hopes of heart's aching

Her heart is secure
His arms hold her tight
Twenty-one is only the start
Twenty-one is a beautiful chapter to write.

Those hands threw the stars into place.

I stood there, in the courtyard. Today it was strange. The birds flew by overhead in a V formation, just as they did before I left for Ireland. There was bright, thick paint on the tiles beneath me and I began spreading it with my hands, painting with my fingers, at His feet. The colors swirled together and the watery paint splashed all over me, covering my hands. He held out His hand to me, it too was covered in paint. I held my hand up to His, as if measuring the size of it to His. His hand was rough, and strong, but it was also gentle. My hand was small held up to His. "You are mine." He said. I tipped back my head and laughed out of sheer delight. Once again I began painting on the ground till suddenly I was overcome with where I was and whose presence I was in. I put my head down and bowed before Him in the messy paint. He stood up and walked over to me. He picked my hands and brought me to my feet. Then, He danced with me. We danced there with the paint under our feet. It began to rain, and we continued dancing. He said to me, "I am awakening your heart."

Though everything was beautiful, I felt strange, and out of sorts. I felt like something was wrong. I left him, I left the courtyard and I returned in the doorway with my scrappy quilt hugged close around my body. I stood there and began crying. He came and without saying anything He wrapped His arms around me. He just held me. I was hit with the realization of all the sin in my life and the ugly thoughts I had been harboring. "I'm sorry" I sobbed. He continued to hold me. Those malicious thoughts, those gossiping words, the anger kept inside...I didn't deserve to be near Him. He held me out and looked at my face, He said to me, "You must forget all the ways you have been wronged in the past, you cannot keep holding onto them and condemning those people." I was looking down at the ground and it was then that I noticed the dirt around my wounds, the wounds covering my arms - they were grimy and needed new bandages. He gently touched them and said "Look, this is what the bitterness does to you." I knew I should let Him wash them and make them better, but I didn't have the strength to respond. Then I saw words beginning to appear on my arms. They were ugly words, things I was associating myself with that I shouldn't, condemning words that I had named myself. "Worthless...ugly...incomplete..." they covered my arms. He lifted his hands, and it was then I realized it wasn't paint they were covered with, but blood. He took His hands and rubbed them on my arms, the words smeared away...and with water He washed them clean. "You are mine." He repeated.

Then the pastor repeated a verse, he said loudly, "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." {Romans 8:1}

[ ]

Sometimes I need to be protected from what I want.

thankful.

I rarely ever do this...post personal photos on my blog. But, this photo has a special place in my heart. This is one of my favorite professors here, Derick Bingham. He's the author of several books, and teaches our Irish Literature class. This photo is another reminder to me of how much I will miss Ireland. Today we celebrated Thanksgiving, a holiday the Irish are unaccustomed to. As I began this morning to think about everything I am thankful for I was overwhelmed. I didn't really know where to start, and I secretly hoped no one would ask me to list specific things. It's not that I'm not thankful, it's that it's difficult for me to verbalize everything adequately. When I look back on the year it all comes down to a beautiful realization - that God cares. There's a strange peaceful sense of security in God that I've come to know. It's been built up, the product of so many different things, some things more painful than others. But the harsh contrast only makes it all the more beautiful. This "thing"..feeling...whatever it is...is something I've never known before. It leaves me feeling a bit giddy..and really free.

...thus I find myself without easy explanation this Thanksgiving...but I think that's okay.

Professor Bingham has turned me into a C.S. Lewis fanatic, and I must include my favorite quote of his.

"Look for Christ and you will find Him...and with Him, everything else thrown in." {C.S. Lewis}

The better you look, the more you will see.

One week. Then I'll truly be old. Twenty-one. It sounds so grown-up. So much older than I feel. I still am that little girl who counts down to her birthday and lights up anytime anyone mentions it. I think that's okay...even at twenty-one. :)

Slowly God has begun to prepare me for coming home. I will miss Ireland dearly, and will keep it in my heart. But, this time is coming to a close, this season is ending, this chapter concluding. I like thinking of my life as a book. It's probably one of my favorite common analogies made.

I feel like a different person somehow. After just three, incredibly short months. I feel a strength inside me that I never knew before. A strength that is strongest when I am closest to Jesus. He is life-giving, and I have realized that in such a new way this semester. Today we had a very famous artist come and speak to us, Ross Wilson. He sculpted the C.S.Lewis statue (that I recently took photos of), among many other sculptures. He also paints and has painted hundreds of famous people, including the Prince of Wales. Needless to say, it was a great honor to meet him. He is a Christian and hearing him speak about his love for art and his love for God was so encouraging, and inspiring. He gave us each prints of a piece he did of an angel's face coming out of this haze-like aura, and on the back of mine he wrote, "The better you look, the more you will see." He was speaking of looking for a touch of eternity in the everyday, ordinary of life. Those words mean so much to me, and I will treasure that picture. Since being here in Ireland God has sprung such a great love in my heart for writing and literature. I feel anxious and wait with great expectancy for God to use me...whether in writing, art, or something else I have yet to discover. I am excited about graduating. It is a world of possibilities...an ocean of adventure. Frightening, yes...but terribly exciting as well.

I hope to suck all the life out of my last two weeks here in Ireland, taking time to savor each moment. This is one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received, and I will always think back on it with the best of memories.

Also, can you tell I have become a C.S. Lewis fanatic? I have. Here is one of my absolute favorite quotations...

"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"

"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.

"Are -are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.

"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."

[C.S. Lewis :: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader)

"We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."

{C.S. Lewis}

"The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning." {C.S. Lewis}

I need you.

Oh, how I need You, Lord
I need Your perfect Word
With tearful eyes to see
The sin that I afford
I need to weep and pray
For all the thousand ways
That I have failed You just today

Your silence is like death to me
So won't You hear my desperate plea

Today my soul is soaring
Way over mountains high
Though I can see the valleys
They're all just passing by
It's not that I am stronger
Look at my feeble wings
But I've been lifted higher
Yaweh's lifted me in His own strength

Oh, how I love You, Lord
I love Your perfect Word
With tearful eyes to see
The God who always will endure
Now I will celebrate
For all the thousand ways
That You have shown me grace
And made my heart in grace to stay
You've made my heart in grace to stay
Lord, make my heart in grace to stay

{I need you: The Swift}

forced to break

My roommate wrote a very profound thing the other day...

"Clearly, the corrupt view of beauty which the world so consistently thrusts upon us is forced to break under the weight of grace."

We've been assigned to write a paper about youth and beauty and how it is often seen as all there is to life. It's been a great paper to write and sparks many great thoughts for further contemplation.

Beauty really goes so far beyond one's exterior. Sure, it's outward beauty that catches the eye, but it's soul beauty that proves authenticity. Outward appearance only accentuates and adorns the real beauty. No matter what our culture tells us is the "standard of beauty", the culture can still do nothing to change the fact that inward beauty surpasses the importance of outward beauty. It may go unspoken, but it's true.

mmm.

So...there's this store here, called Avoca. I'm pretty sure that if God was to design a store for me, this would be the one. This is one of my favorite line of products- Cath Kidston, check out the website.

an untamed God.

"'Course he isn't safe, but he's good."

{C.S. Lewis : The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe}

A Mary day.

13 days.

If I had to describe today's color, it would be a deep salmon pink. I simply cannot think of a better description, you could attribute that to lack of sleep...I'd like to think of it as creativity. Yes, creativity. Now, moving on. While taking a warm shower (This house is an iceberg...simply Baltic.)...after doing yoga and listening to Graham Cooke's words on God's love, a very interesting thought struck me. Yep, I thought it...and then I was like "wow" and I so I thought it again. (This is the way people ponder...does anyone else always associate the word "ponder" with Mary in the Bible?..."She pondered these things in her heart...") Goodness. I am all over the place tonight. But it's my blog. So I could write crap, crap, crap...and it would be okay. Ahem. Back to the shower revelation. First, I was feeling really poorly about myself...frustrated that the changes I want to make are taking so long. Frustrated that I am not happy with myself. This, (picture the light bulb) led to the thought..."I have absolutely no one in my life right now to please." Sure, this is usually true...but for some reason at this particular time in my life, approaching my 21st birthday, it feels more true. Maybe it is anticipation of the changes coming when I graduate, a process that has been evolving of me breaking away from my family, and in general, becoming more independent. I quite like the thought of not caring one bit if I don't match up to someone else's "standards". It's the most freeing thought in the world. If someone decides I am not worth getting to know, based on how I look or some quirk about my personality, then I'd rather not have that relationship - built on false pretenses. Continuing on in my thoughts, I began wondering what it would be like if I just decided to set aside my entire 21st year for a vacation of sorts for just me and God. Taking the time to make the changes I want, slowly...giving myself grace (ha) to see it as a longer process. And, taking the time to let God teach me who He says I am...delighting in Him and giving Him more and more of myself. I may not have the chance in the future to be completely alone with God for a whole year, I think I would look back and be really grateful I did that. It is still just an idea. I'm going to continue pondering (you thought of Mary, I know you did)...I'm not sure I'm ready to commit whole heartedly to the idea yet...but I needed to write it out to process it more. Thanks for listening.

hosanna.

I stood in the courtyard. The blue and white marble was cool beneath my feet. He was sitting on the throne, before me. Water began pouring in, brilliantly clear water, overflowing from the ocean surrounding the cliff. It pooled, ankle deep. In the water I saw little black music notes, swirling with luminous colors. I had never seen water so clear, or so beautiful. It was praise. The water was what "Hosanna" looked like. From the water rose a strong sweet-smelling fragrance, it hovered above the water like a thin vapor. The tiles beneath me began to crack and split in some places, out of the marble vines sprouted up, twisting into large leafy branches around me. Some of them had big flowers, bright colors, like none I had ever seen. Then, the water was being poured into my mouth - I tipped back my head, eager for more. Praise was being poured into my mouth so that I could be a vessel to hold it, to sing it, to speak it. I felt a strong desire to tear my very skin off, to open up the cavity of my chest till all that remained was bones and my beating heart. I wanted more water. I wanted it to consume me.

Reality snapped back. Someone was speaking. They spoke of the negative names we give ourselves. They spoke of Jesus calling us His, and nothing else mattering. They spoke of taking those negative names stamping over them with the truth. His truth defeating the lies.

I was back. This time I felt a word emblazoned upon my head, like a brand - "child". The fragrance continued to fill the air around me. He looked at me and He said, "I want you to paint this." I told Him I could never capture it, that I wasn't very good at painting. He said, "Grace, paint it with your life. Paint the beauty of this place, with your life. Words of praise resting on your lips." It was then I remember where the water reached...the shores. This was praise seeping in from the shores, the people yet to be told. A smile lit up my face as I felt shivers of His joy run through me.

::Listen::

You only know what I want you to
I know everything you don't want me to
Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine
Oh you think your dreams are the same as mine
Oh I don't love you but I always will
I always will

I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back
The less I give the more I get back
Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
I don't have a choice but I still choose you

Oh I don't love you but I always will

{The Civil Wars :: Poison & Wine :: Listen Here}

honest.

They laid their hands upon my head,
They stroked my cheek and brow;
And time could heal a hurt, they said,
And time could dim a vow.

And they were pitiful and mild
Who whispered to me then,
"The heart that breaks in April, child,
Will mend in May again."

Oh, many a mended heart they knew.
So old they were, and wise.
And little did they have to do
To come to me with lies!

Who flings me silly talk of May
Shall meet a bitter soul;
For June was nearly spent away
Before my heart was whole.

{Dorothy Parker :: The False Friends}

A friend of mine gave me this poem the other day. It rang true and I tucked it away in my journal. Lately I have been listening to the girls around me, and all I hear is heartache. Lost love, denied love, sharp words, empty promises, disrespect, and confusion. I hate it. Where are the princes we were told of as little girls? How did we let ourselves get involved, get hurt? And why do we continue to let it happen? I want to bandage their wounds and tend to their hurting hearts. I want to sympathize and tell them how well I understand. I want them to know it's okay to have times when you sob till you haven't a tear left. I want to do anything, anything at all to help. I want to tell them the truth - that time doesn't heal all wounds. Only God alone can heal. I try to suppress the building anger...some days it is easier than others. If they only knew their worth...knew how stunning they are. I want to make them believe in fairytales again, even though I'm not sure I do anymore. I want them to know they deserve someone who understands gold when he has it. I wish my words were enough. But, I know I hear the same words and throw them out just as quickly. I have been, and must continue watching my heart closely, to avoid growing bitter and unfeeling. I must remember loving is worth the pain. Taking chances is necessary in order to really live life. I am so very grateful for the few men I have had the privilege of getting to know who have reminded me that all hope is not lost. That kindness, courage, devotion, sincerity, godliness, and purity are not far-fetched notions.

Though life can often be bitter, as C.S. Lewis so well wrote -

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."

Choosing to love is always the right choice.

His whisper is the only sound I want to hear
Watch it all fall away
Release
The aches, the grudges
Free
The dreams, and expectations
Just a moment of Him near

Fragile pieces of an offering
Leftover from the rummage
Remember
The atonement, the forgiveness
Learn
The love, the joy
The peace, that's all-surpassing.

Through my darkness, His light shines brightest.

"The pain now...is part of the happiness then. That's the deal."

{Shadowlands}

{ you hold me now.}

On that day when I see
All that You have for me
When I see You face to face
There surrounded by Your grace

All my fear is swept away
In the light of your embrace
When Your love is all I need
And forever I am free

{Hillsong|

Today...
It seems like Saturdays are often odd days. Saturdays have no routine, no real rhythm. It's on Saturdays that I find myself having more than enough time to think. Do you ever find yourself seeking out beautiful moments? For instance, I cannot journal unless I am in the perfect place (typically by the lake with my quilt) and music is a must. Nothing is quite as wonderful as watching the clouds slowly move by while listening to worship music. A dear friend of mine challenged me this week to look for ways that God shows me He loves me. It's exciting...I've noticed so many things I normally wouldn't have given a second thought to. Like today, the gardener came in and told me there was a flower for me in the greenhouse. He had left me a beautiful pink carnation - the first to bloom, because he knows how much I love flowers. Getting flowers means a lot to me...and I think it was God's special way of saying He loves me today.

earl grey

Today is a day for curling up with a good book beneath my favorite quilt - Seamus Heaney poems are a delight. A day to listen to the soulful sound of bagpipes - setting the Braveheart soundtrack on repeat. (listen here) A day to browse through books of Irish art - William Conor is my favorite. And a day of drinking warm tea and wearing knee socks.

Brilliant.





Twice Shy

Her scarf a la Bardot,
In suede flats for the walk,
She came with me one evening
For air and friendly talk.
We crossed the quiet river,
Took the embankment walk.

Traffic holding its breath,
Sky a tense diaphragm:
Dusk hung like a backcloth
That shook where a swan swam,
Tremulous as a hawk
Hanging deadly, calm.

A vacuum of need
Collapsed each hunting heart
But tremulously we held
As hawk and prey apart,
Preserved classic decorum,
Deployed our talk with art.

Our Juvenilia
Had taught us both to wait,
Not to publish feeling
And regret it all too late -
Mushroom loves already
Had puffed and burst in hate.

So, chary and excited,
As a thrush linked on a hawk,
We thrilled to the March twilight
With nervous childish talk:
Still waters running deep
Along the embankment walk.

{Seamus Heaney}

I love November.

we'll be the ones who never grow old.

We wrote a prelude
To our own fairy tale
And bought a parachute
At a church rummage sale

And with a mean sewing machine
And miles of thread
We sewed the day above L.A.
In navy and red

We wound a race track
Through your mom's kitchen chairs
And fought the shadows back
Down your dark basement stairs

I lit a match, then let it catch
To light up the room
And then you yelled as we beheld
An old maroon hot air balloon

I'll be out of my mind
And you'll be out of ideas
Pretty soon
So let's spend
The afternoon in a cold hot air balloon
Leave your jacket behind
Lean out and touch the treetops over town
I can't wait
To kiss the ground
Wherever we touch back down

We drank the Great Lakes
Like cold lemonade
And both got stomach aches
Sprawled out in the shade

So bored to death you held your breath
And I tried not to yawn
You made my frown turn upside down
And now my worries are gone

{Hot Air Balloon :: Owl City}

constantly refocusing

Today I realized that God is testing me on the very beliefs he has been strengthening me in. It's like a push-pull, or as Joey so well said, a "held in tension" feeling. I came out of one test with my faith completely strengthened in God's love for me, his desire for good things for me, and his direction for me...only to now find myself having to use what I've learned in a new situation. It's almost like God's saying, "Grace, do you really believe what I have proven to you to be true? Or are you going to fall back once again to your own way of thinking...because it's easier to believe?" It's true. It's easier to believe that God doesn't care...that his love is inconsistent. It's easier to blame myself...false sense of control.

I'm letting His truths hit me...and asking for his Spirit to soak in and take control. His blood, it continues to speak on my behalf.