She was unpredictable.
She was clever.
She was smart.
But most of all. . . She was herself and she was unafraid to Love hard, love big, and cheer others on to the win.
When you do it your way—the organic and natural beauty of you comes shining through;
You give permission to others to be organic, too.
Becoming unashamed of every inch of you.
The strengths as well as the weakness.
All of this embodies the essence of you. And I think this is beautiful.
A writer is always writing, and sometimes—we use a pen.
I’ve been a writer my whole life. I just didn’t always know it. I am an observer of souls. My heart the cradle that holds it all in.
I’ve held it all in my entire life. Literally. I am very friendly, but at the same time enormously shy. I am one who always holds back, especially when my emotions are high. I am a chronic and habitual hold back sort of person. It is easy and it is awful all
She was wounded, but she was a Warrior.
She travailed, but she knew her worth.
She knew her Inheritance, she received notice of it years before.
The Book of Records had transcribed His Love on her heart.
The chord had been tied—
Their hearts were tied; delicately stringed together with a throng of Gold. Anchored Fully.
This was no ordinary connection.
For her, no connection was ordinary—she had a deep and genuine love for humanity. She was one who loved affectionately. But this connection, it wasn’t like any she had known before.
Friends came and
There are so many reasons why a writer writes and where and how they begin their journey with the pen. In the day of getting paid to blog not everyone has a passion for writing as much as a passion for a paycheck. I think it’s lovely the many options of expression and creating an income base—but I pray that how ever creative writing is used, it never loses the passion and purpose and the plow it creates to till the soil of the heart and make another
My Father is a Gardener and oh how my Garden he does keep.
He nestles himself—
Heart and Soul with my petals.
He reaches through my stem until he gets to the root.
The roots are the very essence of who I am.
I love how I’ve been planted in his garden.
There is no other garden where I would like to be.
Here in his chambers I am free to be me.
He is the key that unlocks the goodness in me.
He is Master Gardener.
He knows exactly how much water I need.
Ever had somebody think you were mad at them when you weren’t? It can be frustrating to convince someone who has decided in their heart and are sure of a non fact.
But don’t we all do this to God over and over again? Don’t we betray our own heart and fail to show ourselves kindness because we expect the worse case scenario to unfold?
We place our expectations of the future on our experiences of the past. What a horrible mask the enemy has dealt to corrupt God’s Good
All of life is a song—
You bring the melody
God plays the harmony
And together, it becomes poetic history and great things are done.
Your life is a book.
God holds the Master copy—
The version with all the tattered edges, tear stains, choices made and not made.
The one with all the highlights and torn pages.
Pencil smudges where ideas, pursuits, mishaps were erased.
Be an open book.
As an open book you are as open and vulnerable as can be.
For vulnerability is key for healthy relationships and healthy intimacy.
The closed book is easier, safer, most guarded and
What an excellent day.
I hear it was Heaven made.
But what exactly does that mean to you?
For me…this is what it means. A Heaven made day means something different to everyone, but here’s a glimpse into my heart and what stirs me deeply.
I love the free expression my heart yields in His Presence. It is frequently found in my pen, but when I speak it is found there as well.
He brings out the best in me.
What brings out the best in you?
I am fully aware that I am