Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Impressions.
Looking back on my teenage years, I realize that I always sought to find favor and acceptance from all the wrong places. I had to wear pretty clothes, couldn't leave the house without makeup and straightened hair, and just being all around perfectly primped. It's seems silly thinking about it now. Whether it was to make friends, impress boys or make others jealous, I hadn't yet realized who I should really be seeking to impress. Having just turned 20, I still like to look my best on occasion but I gladly realize it's not about what people think. I no longer have to wear makeup at every waking moment, or have perfectly straightened hair, because I finally realize I'm beautiful in the way God made me. The teen years were the best and worst times of my life, but now it's time to set my sights on the bigger and the brighter, and look to impress no one other than the creator of the universe, and maker of my heart.❤️
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Friday, December 19, 2014
Set You Free.
Forever bound by the clocks frozen second hand. Lonely weeping prisoner stranded in a world that's left you broken. But dear, the truth shall set you free. Dear slave, take my hand and you'll soon see, I'll take you to a place that will set you free.
Words Unspoken.
Thoughts consuming, resonating back and forth across this slate blank mind. I try to give myself an answer for all these questions that are troubling me inside. What always ends up, my heart gets broken from words that either you or I hath left unspoken. Or even the words we did exchange. I'm never in the right state of mind to say just the very thing I need to say.
Silence: Can You Hear Me Now?
Silence. Silence screams at me through an empty eternity of thoughts I can't control. Just silence. Can you hear me now? I need th hand of a meaningful promise to hold. No more silhouettes of broken hearts and the past I've tried so hard not to remember. The past that constantly torments my mind, leaving me breathless and looking for meaning. You know what's funny? When I scream, I'm never heard. When the silence screams, it surrounds you. Consumes you. It's all there is to be heard. It's funny how you can look me in the eye and swear that you'll be there, yet I always end up alone. It's funny how I'm the one alone when you're the one deserving. But the funniest part? Is that, to me, none of this is funny at all.
Love❤️
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
1st Corinthians 13:4-8❤️❤️❤️
"Table for Two"
This story really hit home for me.
He sits by himself at a table for two.
The uniformed waiter returns to his side and ask,
"Would you like to go ahead and order, sir?"
The man has, after all, been waiting since seven o'clock--
almost half an hour.
"No, thank you," the man smiles.
"I'll wait for her a while longer. How about some more coffee?"
"Certainly, sir."
The man sits, his clear blue eyes gazing
straight through the flowered centerpiece.
He fingers his napkin,
allowing the sounds of light chatter,
tinkling silverware, and mellow music to fill his mind.
He is dressed in sport coat and tie.
His dark brown hair is neatly combed,
but one stray lock insists on dropping to his forehead.
The scent of his cologne adds to his clean cut image.
He is dressed up enough to make a companion feel important,
respected, loved.
Yet he is not so formal as to make one uncomfortable.
It seems that he has taken every precaution
to make others feel at ease with him.
Still, he sits alone.
The waiter returns to fill the man's coffee cup.
"Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?"
"No, thank you."
The waiter remains standing at the table.
Something tugs at his curiosity.
"I don't mean to pry, but..." His voice trails off.
This line of conversation could jeopardize his tip.
"Go ahead," the man encourages.
His is strong, yet sensitive,
inviting conversation.
"Why do you bother waiting for her?"
the waiter finally blurts out.
This man has been at the restaurant other evenings,
always patiently alone.
Says the man quietly, "Because she needs me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Well, sir, no offense, but assuming that she needs you,
she sure isn't acting much like it.
She's stood you up three times just this week."
The man winces, and looks down at the table.
"Yes, I know."
"Then why do you still come here and wait?"
"Cassie said that she would be here."
"She's said that before," the waiter protests.
"I wouldn't put up with it. Why do you?"
Now the man looks up, smiles at the waiter, and says simply,
"Because I love her."
The waiter walks away, wondering how one could love a girl
who stands him up three times a week.
The man must be crazy, he decides.
Across the room, he turns to look at the man again.
The man slowly pours cream into his coffee.
He twirls his spoon between his fingers a few times
before stirring sweetener into his cup.
After staring for a moment into the liquid,
the man brings cup to his mouth and sips,
silently watching those around him.
He doesn"t look crazy, the waiter admits.
Maybe the girl has qualities that I don"t know about.
Or maybe the man"s love is stronger than most.
The waiter shakes himself out of his musings to take an order
from a party of five.
The man watches the waiter, wonders if he's ever been stood up.
The man has, many times.
But he still can't get used to it.
Each time, it hurts.
He's looked forward to this evening all day.
He has many things, exciting things, to tell Cassie.
But, more importantly,
he wants to hear Cassie's voice.
He wants her to tell him all about her day,
her triumphs, her defeats....anything, really.
He has tried so many times to show Cassie how much he loves her.
He'd just like to know that she cares for him, too.
He sips sporadically at the coffee, and loses himself in thought,
knowing that Cassie is late,
but still hoping that she will arrive.
The clock says nine-thirty when the waiter returns to the man's table.
"Is there anything I can get for you?"
The still empty chair stabs at the man.
"No, I think that will be all for tonight.
May I have the check please?"
"Yes, sir."
When the waiter leaves, the man picks up the check.
He pulls out his wallet and signs.
He has enough money to have given Cassie a feast.
But he takes out only enough to pay for his five cups of coffee and the tip.
Why do you do this, Cassie, his mind cries as he gets up from the table.
"Good-bye," the waiter says, as the man walks towards the door.
"Good night. Thank you for your service."
"You're welcome, sir," says the waiter softly,
for he sees the hurt in the man's eyes that his smile doesn"t hide.
The man passes a laughing young couple on his way out,
and his eyes glisten as he thinks of the good time he and Cassie could have had.
He stops at the front and makes reservations for tomorrow.
Maybe Cassie will be able to make it, he thinks.
"Seven o'clock tomorrow for party of two?" the hostess confirms.
"That"s right," the man replies.
"Do you think she'll come"" asks the hostess.
She doesn't mean to be rude,
but she has watched the man many times alone at his table for two.
"Someday, yes. And I will be waiting for her."
The man buttons his overcoat and walks out of the restaurant, alone.
His shoulders are hunched, but through the windows
the hostess can only guess whether they are hunched against the wind
or against the man's hurt.
As the man turns toward home, Cassie turns into bed.
She is tired after an evening out with friends.
As she reaches toward her night stand to set the alarm,
she sees the note that she scribbled to herself last night. '7:00,' it says.
'Spend some time in prayer.'
Darn, she thinks. She forgot again.
She feels a twinge of guilt, but quickly pushes it aside.
She needed that time with her friends.
And now she needs her sleep.
She can pray tomorrow night.
Jesus will forgive her.
And she's sure he doesn't mind.
~ by Kirsten Burgess ~
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
This Is Where The Healing Begins.
"So you thought you had to keep this up
All the work that you do
So we think that you're good
And you can't believe it's not enough
All the walls you built up
Are just glass on the outside
So let 'em fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now
This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark
Afraid to let your secrets out
Everything that you hide
Can come crashing through the door now
But too scared to face all your fear
So you hide but you find
That the shame won't disappear
So let it fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now
We're here now, oh
This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark
Sparks will fly as grace collides
With the dark inside of us
So please don't fight
This coming light
Let this blood come cover us
His blood can cover us
This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark"
-10th Avenue North❤️
Monday, December 15, 2014
Bridges
Sometimes it's not about burning your bridges. It's about returning to those broken bridges and rebuilding them into something stronger and more beautiful than they ever were before. 🌉❤️
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Monday, December 8, 2014
Mean Girls & Church
I've unfortunately NEVER read a truer article in my entire life. It's a shame too, it really is. Girls, let God transform you, and stop being a mean girl. I can guarantee you, that's not your calling.
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