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Believing to See

I look at the second to the last post I've written and saw that it's been exactly a year.  How uncanny is that?  
I've scattered my thoughts in many different places but still one place beckons me to stay still.  To write to believe.  It seems like an anthem that I'm hearing.  A sheep's horn begging me to come out from hiding.  
And I am. 
The year has been difficult.  There were relationships I had to let go of and relationships that I've chosen to keep.  There were duties that I had to stick out for and woundedness that I had to face.  It's been a sifting kind of year and it wasn't easy.  I am amazed that I am still here alive and grateful for unexpected places of grace.  
I've chosen to simplify many things.  Like the way I write and the way I live.  I realized how difficult it is to keep having to shape-shift around many people.  They won't always be like me and I will not always receive what I need from everybody even if I put 100% of me i…

Sacred Days

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I wrote this a week ago on a different space.  I've totally forgotten about this page and right now I'm asking God what He really wants me to do with it.  So many things have happened the past few months and I've been recovering from a lot of things.  From immense burn out.  From relationship fall outs. From losing fragments of myself in this transitory period of my life.

But during Holy Week I found myself coming into wholeness again.  Able to listen to myself and hear God a little bit more closely.

This is what I went through during 4 days of silence.

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I've never experienced a silent retreat before until this year. I decided to go because I felt that for the longest time I lived such a noisy life. This noise comes in many forms. Exterior noise and interior noise. When the noise becomes overbearing it becomes hard to hear yourself or God. So this year I made a decision to go on a silent retreat that spanned the entire Holy Week. I had many thoughts and fears goin…

Birthed Within

The world continues to press on even through this supposed restful time.  I am still caught up in between conversations, debacles, debates.  Swimming in perceptions between people, leaders, friends.  
And I am dead tired.  
The year of restoration, a promise, I remain holding on to because it is God's word for me at the beginning of this one.  Even in the middle of this exhaustion of still making hearts meet, bridging gaps and mending broken ties.  I hold on to it.  The year is not yet over and the promise has already been spoken.  It is on now a matter of time and the patience within my waiting.  That I shall be receiving soon, a moment of utmost peace and rest.  
I am hanging on to the promise of Advent.
The Greatest Gift has been such a great companion for me this season and this morning's read has got me grounded on the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth.  How the priest and his wife have been forgotten and barren yet their names are pregnant with their promise.  Zechariah me…

Heart Beating Inside His

I am silent and my heart acknowledges the vulnerable rhythm of its beating.  Only a few more days till Christmas and I let myself soak it all in.  This journey into truly understanding what the season means. I've been following devotional after devotional and as much as I want to write about everything I read or listen to or see, I do not have a lot of time.  Today I'm given the grace of time, and words because I am just moved by the story of 2 mothers listening to the beating heart of a daughter gone. 
I read the story from Ann Voskamp's post today on "What to Do With a Hurting Heart This Christmas".  The title of the post just captured me because it's what I have been thinking about for many days.  How do people who are experiencing situations of aching celebrate Christmas? 
She illustrates this by sharing the story of 2 mothers and a daughter's heart.  And I watch and let my own heart be moved.



Ann writes, "When God hears your heart, that’s what …

Before Emmanuel

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I watched The Nativity today.
I wanted to understand a bit more about the season we celebrate as Christmas.  I feel that over the years it’s been overrated and it’s lost it’s real meaning because of all the festivities we prepare without completely knowing how the first Christmas was two thousand years ago.

When I was younger I’d always know the story of Jesus began with the angel appearing to Mary and announcing the virgin birth.  I know that the angel appeared to Joseph in a dream so that he can take Mary as his wife.  I know that Jesus was born in a manger.  I know how Mary and Joseph weren’t given a place at any inn in Bethlehem.  But those simple facts missed may have missed out on what could have really happened.
I realized without understanding the real story, what I know of Christmas may even just be a one dimensional caricature of how the events truly unfolded.
And yes, it’s indeed been like that.
I realized watching the movie that it must have been hard for Mary as a young girl t…

Wrapped

It’s grace when you meet with a person who hurt you and instead of groveling about it you choose to give of yourself.  It’s grace when you haven’t spoken to someone for so very long and the courage opens up the door for a short but meaningful conversation.  It’s grace when you share what you have to those who have not.  Grace came for me this week and gave me the opportunity to love in situations where it was difficult to love.  Jesus revealing Himself as Grace moving my heart because He moves mine. Living becomes my response to His life in me.  Here I am learning to live again this advent.   I take days slowly at a time.  This week I’ve been unable to really do any writing because I have been mesmerized by the unfolding of a new hobby.  Crocheting has taken my time and I’ve fallen in love making little flowers that I plan to stitch together and make a scarf.  I’m lulled by the rhythmic looping of thread and yarn that almost allows me to fall into a chant praying one thing really.  That …

Speaking Words and Breathing Life

Your truth pursued me yesterday and Your grace gave me the strength to hold on.  Despite the noises that threatened to steal the slow peace I’m finding in You.  Noises that taunted my aloneness and alienation.  I stay in this place where Your arms have encircled around me and keeping my eyes stayed on You.   You found me through the book of Romans.  The fourth and fifth chapters were words I read out loud to myself and how their sound just moved and tugged at my heart.   God proves His love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.  How much more then, since we are now justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath. (Rom 5:8-9) These words of St. Paul broke through the dismal fog that clouded my mind and kept it cluttered for days.  I said it to myself again and again.  God proves His love.  God proves His love. What kind of God proves His love to His creation?   I realized, this is how much He wanted to pursue me.  This is how deep His passion goe…