now i see.

// i found this tucked away in a draft that i never published and today i just decided to click publish even though it doesn't feel ready or finished. because now i see.

it's raining and my hair is frizzy, but my heart is at rest.
i've been learning what it means to be still. to be still in a busy world, in a busy schedule. these past few weeks have been so good- so absolutely full and crazy and wildly beautiful. this season of life has been discovering the way a good Father delights in giving good gifts to His children. ah, i can't even. God has just been so good in allowing me to use things i'm passionate about as something i've been doing for the last three months. every day, i've been waking up to spend the morning in a kitchen doing something i love. and my little dream to work in a coffee shop one day, He remembered that. and my love for graphic design and quotes and Scripture- He remembered that too. when i think about all that, my heart is overwhelmed because God didn't have to give me all that in one season, but He did.
but now i only have two weeks left. countdowns have started.
rest in Him, my restless heart. He is still good. He still holds a plan. He is still working. 

now i see. He's bringing those same things back again, but this summer was the testing point. did i trust Him even when i couldn't see clearly? do i know that His plans are still far above my highest dreams? was He truly the source of joy in my life? 
so many hard questions, but this has been a season of finding the real answers to them and not just the head answers.
if everything was stripped away, Jesus, i still choose you. 

xoxo. 

on choosing forgiveness.

(written on the second to last day of january)

you know, it scares me that it only takes seeing your name for the walls in my heart to start going up.
because i immediately remember the journal entry with a thirteen year old's hope scrawled into the words "maybe we can actually be friends now." and then the stabbing pain that came two days later when you literally ignored my existence.
you used me.

and just writing those three words brings a lump into my throat, it sounds so harsh, and i hate that. but it's true. you used me.

being used always hurts, but being used with a young heart so full of hope can almost break that heart. 

forgiveness. that word keeps being spoken to my heart. forgiveness. forgiveness. forgiveness. i have to choose it. it is so hard, but it is my only choice. this is what i have been called to do- forgive, love, be open and vulnerable, forgive, love, and forgive some more.  and i am choosing forgiveness no matter how big this lump in my throat is or how much my heart aches at the thought of risking the pain once again.

i choose forgiveness.
                          (because it first chose me.)

xoxo. -m

the ache of regret.

"the stupidest thing i ever did was move back when she was happy there.
 i would have never lost her if i would have just stayed."

we are all sitting around the kitchen table looking at old photographs that you had found in your old room. my heart broke when you said those words because i looked into your eyes and saw the regret built up like a brick wall. in that moment, i would have done anything to bring back the happy ending to the broken fairy tale.

you've screwed up a lot and you know that, but what i don't think you know is--
you are a fighter and you're still strong, even when the fight has been long and weary.
your laughter warms my heart because i can hear how deep it rumbles.
you still love fiercely, even with the long goodbyes and scheduled visits.

i don't think you know how much you are loved. it's a long chain of broken communicators and even i know how messy it can get when they don't know how to say the words. but, even when the words can't seem to take form and the silence is so loud, the love is still there, even if it's a bit rusty and buried in dust. and i think it's the reason you keep coming home, no matter how many times you get lost or broken.

and they may tell you that you're breaking their hearts again, but there is a reason their hearts can still be broken. and it's the reason they drive to pick you up at the bus station even when they don't think you made the right decision. you are loved.
and don't forget about the Love that is always flowing and always fresh. it's speaking loudly, over the brokenness and it's still saying the same thing it has said since the beginning of time-- "i love you, i love you, i loved so much that i died for you. come home... please come home."
you are loved beyond measure.

and i know you're trying, trying so hard to stop running, trying so hard to fix the mess, trying to be a father, trying to get back on the right track. but just remember, you don't have to try so hard, because there is still Love.
there is always Love.

xoxo. -m

incoherent rambling

*written last night*

it's 10:04 pm.  it's been a long day and i just have this urge to write. so unedited thoughts happening now.

today, a guy at church told me my combination of mustard yellow and dark purple was a "striking combination..." it was super sweet, although slightly weird because of who it came from. and somebody remembered my name from our brief meeting a month ago. i'm once again astounded how having someone simply say your name can be so heartwarming.

i'm turning seventeen in two weeks. holy crap. how even. i'm so not ready for this and yet i've never been more ready in my life.
i'm so freaking stoked for the adventures that 2015 has already promised. i'm going to meet thirty of the sweetest girls and women i've ever known. i'm going to fly to washington (after having it on the very top of my bucket list for years now) to meet these incredible women and i get to spend five days seeking the face of Jesus, cultivating deeper relationships, and learning about being an artist all in the same trip. i'm going to be headed to pensacola, florida for my high school graduation in the spring and i started all of my second/last semester classes. it's surreal that this is truly my last few months as a high-schooler. family reunions are being planned and i'm already dreaming of my driver's license and weekend camping trips this summer. along with hopefully going through a semester at ellerslie this fall.
there are so many possibilities and everything seems like a wide open slate, now i need to find the courage needed to boldly write adventures upon it. 

i've been reading do hard things by the harris brothers and it's been rocking my world. i strikes absolute fear into my heart to think that i've already been alive for seventeen years and yet i feel i don't have much to show for it. but, RIGHT NOW is the exactly the time i've always dreamed of living. except i've found that the freedom i thought "growing up" is, feels a little more like a mild sense of captivity and i never imagined it would be this hard to figure out why it's so easy to cry when your life is relatively great.
i never thought i'd be so caught in this gripping fear of being hurt and being vulnerable and yet such a longing for community while figuring out how hard it is to be the one cultivating that.

yet, i think my nine year old self would be proud to know that i wear pearls now and listen to one direction without shame (okay, i don't think my nine year old self even knew that one direction existed, but whatever). i think she'd be proud to know that i'm learning to manage my wild curls (still figuring that out, but learning to embrace the messy... and frizzy) and that i wear red nail polish and sometimes red lipstick. i know she'd be proud to know that Jesus has never been more real in my heart and that sometimes simply thinking about him makes my heart almost burst from pure joy. and i bet she's proud to know that after all the pain and drama, i've learned how to rise. 

it's 10:27pm and my toes are cold and my fingers tired.

on realizing the importance of being surrounded by good people.

the older i get the more i realize how important it is to have good people surrounding you in life.
but i think it goes beyond the cliche of saying "you become like your friends"...

it's more like coming home at night with a smile you can't erase and your heart dancing,
not because anything extraordinary happened, but laughter was shared and in the laughter- there was love.

it's the mornings you wake up with a happy feeling in your heart because you realize they were in your dream and although your dream was ridiculously stupid and completely invalid-- they were still there, with you. 

it's the late night chats that don't end until "oh, wait, it's 11:11. again. I probably should get to bed now." because although technology is often our chosen mask, it is also our connection. because fingers on a keyboard in a different city and a white screen in front of you is still better than being alone.

it's like getting a group message from people you've lost track of and didn't know how to regain the lost and wanting to all get together again soon.

and sometimes it may feel like you have only that one person who you can really bare your heart with, but sometimes that's okay. and sometimes all the other people in your life are friendships that just need a little more fertilizer to continue growing.

xoxo. -m

letters to humans | v.5

(letters to humans, the documentation of human experience and encounters told by moi.)

dear human,

the fact that you said my name today although we've literally never talk made my day 100x better. it wasn't anything extraordinary, you were just asking me a question about rice and beans, but you said my name and that made the world of difference. i don't know why-- i've never quite been able to figure it out, but when i hear someone say my name, it makes my twisted human heart swell. i guess it's just the thought that someone cares enough to remember who i am. 

so yeah, thanks for that.

love,

the girl who cut off 8 inches of her hair, however it still looks relatively the same. #dontevenask #curlyhairproblems

currently quoting:

“That’s what stories are for. Stories are for joining the past to the future. Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can’t remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember except the story.”

—    Tim O’Brien, The Things They Carried 

letters to humans | v. 4

dear sweet little old lady with the bright turquoise earrings and coral lipstick,

we were having lunch in a darling little diner in my favorite mountain town with an old friend and you were sitting in the booth next to the window. you smiled as we sat down.
the place was crowded and i got distracted by telling an awkward story and then completed the story by spilling my glass of water on my lap.(smooth, marcia. smooth.)
but i got my burger, trish got her omlette, miss patty got her reuben, and momma got her soup and salad. we said a prayer and then swapped french fries, a half of biscuit, onion slices as we chatted.
i didn't even think twice about it.

we were just finishing the last bits of our lunch when your party was leaving, on your way out, you lingered at our booth and said--
"i want to thank you, ladies, for your Christian witness. that was beautiful!"

your voice was slow and your hands were shaky, but your words went right to my heart.

thank you for that,
the girl with the icecube in her shoe. (that darn glass of water.)

(letters to humans, the documentation of human experience and encounters told by moi.)

currently quoting:
"Melt your heart by remembering grace."  -- Tim Keller 
currently listening: