With Light silhouetting my shoulders,
I will push into the dark night,
no longer bound by shadows
that trailed so long behind me.
For they do not tell my story.
They do not hold my truth.
They cannot keep me
from the things
I am meant to do.
Even if my eyes are heavy,
I will push forward with audacity,
and I will rise with strength at dawn.
And when I arrive there, I will smile.
And not the kind of smile
made of gritted teeth,
but the kind that is involuntary and free,
knowing I have made it through to liberty.
For I have known darkness,
and I am learning to be less afraid of it.
If you are swimming in a sea
of unanswered questions,
may you find courage to be silent.
And while the waves
fall over one another
in a splash of black and blue,
slowly drowning out your thoughts
leaving you with nothing else to do
but fall helplessly
under the body
of rolling water,
do not think you must rush on.
It is okay to spend some time here.
It is okay to be the only one here.
The shore is calling, but today, you’re in this water.
Find its purpose,
its substance.
Wait in silence.
Fall into a place of listening
and surrender,
and trust that even here,
these whirling waters
will not carry you on forever.
And when the current comes
you will be lifted up,
carried to the shore,
and you will be better
for having been here,
embracing silence amidst
the water’s roar.
I hope someday
you know the taste
of early morning mountain air,
and the saltwater waves of the ocean,
and the unexpected bliss of some strange sweet-bitter fruit.
But I hope you also know the taste of hope
on an ordinary Tuesday,
when you do not feel okay,
and you rise up anyway.
Do more
than just visit the world;
belt to the heavens,
listen to the languages of every passerby,
in every single moment
go joy-hunting today.
Despite the pale gray on your horizon,
the gloom of a winter weekday’s dawn,
even as you imagine the photographs of a life that could have been,
all the places your mind has wandered
and the stories you had hoped
would end a little differently,
you are still not as lost as you think you are,
you are here, for a reason, to make the most of it.
Listen out for the low-pitched song of the bluebird,
the rustling leaves,
the sound of rain.
Listen for any little reminder of Life,
feel it call you by your name.
Consider the small and nearly missed,
consider the bold, unanimously grand,
consider it all something
worth tasting and cherishing,
making the most of your days at hand.
Consider it a natural thing
if this way of living
takes some patterning
and getting used to,
for this is an unfolding
of a novel-length awakening
of seeing what has always
been calling you.
You find yourself
beneath a canopy of trees
with broken branches,
covered with moss tangled at your knees.
Rest assured
the forest does not crawl on forever.
But you must begin the journey
here.
For this is the time,
this is the time to come alive,
to walk tall with a beating heart
and wide-open midday eyes,
to surrender,
here in the green,
for you are still free
to travel free,
without knowing
everything,
humbly following the traces of daylight,
even though the path is unmarked,
even though this was not a favored start,
this is your only Hope
to make it through
precisely here,
pushing through the land of the unknown
you will find your home
in Hope.
So for now,
while you are here,
turn your attention
to the lessons of strength
this present forest offers.
I CANNOT TELL YOU
THE COLOR OF TOMORROW’S SUNRISE
OR WHAT HUES WILL BURN
LIKE LEAVES BEFORE YOUR EYES.
I CANNOT TELL YOU
WHICH PLANTS IN YOUR GARDEN
WILL BLOOM BEFORE OTHERS
OR WHICH ONES YOU WILL HAVE TO PRUNE
AND WAIT FOR A SEASON LONGER,
BUT I CAN TELL YOU,
TOMORROW IS ON ITS WAY.
YOU WILL STEP INTO AN ALL-NEW DAY,
AWAKE.
Shadows
fall like midnight
on your shoulders,
but those shadows will have no grip on you
for they are doomed
to be drowned out by Light.
And you might feel their heaviness
weighing down on your knees,
making it harder
to walk,
to breathe,
but you will be alright,
for you still are learning
what it means to be strong.
You are still a capable, thriving being,
at a slower, shadow-lined pace.
You might feel
overwhelmed
beneath
this canopy
of endless trees,
but if you choose to keep going,
you will soon find the clearing,
an open field
with room
to rest
before you rise and begin again.
For even though
restless questions
crowd your midnight-wondering,
every breath
is a step
in the direction of morning.
Let go
to grab hold
of tomorrow’s possibility,
and try again,
try again.
SO WHEN YOU
ASK HOW I’VE BEEN,
I WRAP MY WORDS
IN TODAY’S BEAUTIFUL TRUTH
THAT I AM NOT
WHO I WAS
BACK THEN.
I WILL NOT JUSTIFY
THIS SELF-EVIDENT REALITY
THAT GRACE
HAS CHANGED
MY VIEW.
Here’s to more vivid dreams,
when-you-are-sleeping dreams and
wide-awake middle-of-the-day dreams
that make your heart fall in love
in an instant.
Because lately, these hills you have been climbing
have woven weariness into your bones,
driving you further and further from home,
and as much as you want to believe
the terrain will even itself out,
you have persisting doubts
and gray scale fears
that the road signs
will be obstructed
by the rain
and you will be stuck here,
estranged in an unknown place.
So when you are struggling to keep climbing,
and the wind has blown you to your knees,
and any hope you had
fell through the cracks
of the earth,
dream
of the tree-lined clearing up ahead
you have yet to see.
Have the audacity
to keep dreaming
in full color, come undone,
letting hope have its way.
And whenever
she starts to forget
the story of her original bloom,
the flowers of this green earth remind her
she too will spring up from the ground
again.
Gravity will not restrain her,
for the sun and rainfall
will propel her
up
from gritty soil
into open morning air,
and Light will meet her there
and she will
begin
to unfold
in the way
she is meant to.
When it’s 2 a.m.
and the room
is lined
with shadows,
turn your eyes
toward the window—
to the little light burn of
the street lamp
the white star
the flickering red light of the airplane passing by . . .
breathe deep, breathe deep,
it is okay
to feel a little out of place
in this dark and restless space
and come falling,
falling
into grace.
And know this is still true:
Lo, I am
with you
until the end of end of earth,
even at restless 2 a.m.’s,
even when it hurts.
So turn on the music,
open the book,
you do not have to count the hours.
You may have lost your share of sleep,
but Light will never lose the glory,
and no matter how long these late nights last,
the sun is on the way
with mercy in the morning.
I believe
there is a time for everything under the sun.
A time to live, a time to die,
a time to rise, to dream, to become . . .
to find room for me
in the most crowded spaces of my mind,
to see there is still time
for me to slow down,
process things,
and let Ecclesiastes sing to me:
you may have come undone,
but there is a time under the sun,
for everything,
absolutely everything.
You do not have to live afraid.
You do not have to live in an overgrown garden
of weeds
that have no place.
Every fear you have known
did not come here alone,
it came with its own story
welling up from the past.
Never let fear make a home in your garden.
It is a weed,
but you are free to yank it up,
you are free to speak with fire:
“enough is enough.”
For this garden of your life
is the place where flowers grow,
and they are not only beautiful—
they are powerful,
releasing breath into the air around them.
Pause
and exhale.
PERHAPS THIS IS THE SEASON
TO STEP FULLY INTO THE BEAUTIFUL REALITY
OF WHAT IT MEANS TO BE FREE:
BRAVE AND ADVENTUROUS
AND READY FOR THE JOURNEY
OF LEARNING AND GROWING.
OF LIVING AND KNOWING
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO HAVE EVERY ANSWER
TO BREATHE DEEP AND KEEP GOING.
Remember this place
in the years to come.
Remember the streetlight,
flickering and dim.
And that silvery car
parked
awaiting the traffic light,
reflecting back the red hues
so typical of
that season of life.
It will pass on,
in time,
it passes on.
Are they residents,
or are they
merely passing through?
Oh, these seemingly insignificant
moments of light,
I am still
grateful for you.
Dive in
beyond the reef.
And what will you call it?
What will you name
this grand adventure?
Will you call it
“Into the deep,”
“The day I finally learned to breathe,”
“The strength I did not know I would need,”
or will you simply call it
“Be”?
For after all,
this is what
you are doing:
discovering
the courage
living inside of you
is not as distant
as it seemed.
No matter how this season ends,
you will walk away knowing
what you did not know back then.
This year will not end like last year,
nor any other year before.
May you never forget all of the people you met
who planted seeds of hope
in your life
when you least expected it.
May you never forget
the garden
that still bloomed
even after your driest seasons.
No matter how big or small,
these people and these places
have been part of it all:
season into season.
Together, you have watched dead things come to life,
day by day, flower by flower.
Take a look around
at what is still growing:
a tree outside your window
your collection of books
a friendship
hope
For by grace you will grow
into who you were meant to be,
and you will arrive,
and thrive,
in due season
together.
At the right time,
every broken thing
will come together for the good.
You are more than your
failures,
successes,
more than your fears.
And far beyond the surface
of your desires,
there is a truer reason
why you are still here.
If you find yourself struggling
to see past your imperfections
because you cannot figure out how
what’s torn apart can come together,
may you know in your soul
that the answer is not found in thinking,
feeling,
doing,
but in trusting in what is Greater than you.
Some fears are like droughts
that roll in over mountains
stripping the earth
of the lush green and soft soil
that once promised
fruitful life,
sending your tired eyes searching
for hope
in what has become
the most hopeless place.
But it is in these desperately barren landscapes
you come to learn:
this Glorious Living Water
running wild through your veins
is entirely
unafraid
of the dry, scorched place of your fears.
So take heart when fear is raging.
Seek courage over control.
Learn to let go into the wild of things,
learn to grow as things unfold.
TAKE HEART,
TAKE HEART,
DO NOT BE AFRAID.
THE FUTURE MAY BE UNCERTAIN,
BUT THERE IS NO NEED
TO HIDE AWAY.
EVERY DAY IS AN OPPORTUNITY
TO COURAGEOUSLY SHOW UP,
EVEN WHEN YOU DO NOT FEEL EQUIPPED,
OR THAT YOU WILL BE ENOUGH.
LET GRACE SURPRICE YOU,
SETTING FIRE TO YOUR BONES,
STRENGTHENING YOUR MIND
IN THE WILD OF YOUR UNKNOWNS.
Be at peace in the mystery.
You can thrive in the mystery,
feel free and safe in mystery,
assured the ground beneath your feet
is safe and ever sturdy.
Not everything can be put into words.
A mystery-ridden life is still filled with Light,
and it is okay
to have days
where you are still learning
what that looks like.
Make a
practice
of resting.
There will be mountains,
coastlines,
and sunsets over power lines,
and there will also be moments
when you are lost in your room
of journals
filled with unanswered prayers
and a wall of photographs
that taunt you
with cold, distant stares—
but slowly and surely,
you find
graceful strength
to press into the moment
and come alive within it,
to turn to a blank page
and start writing again,
to remember the way you felt
when those photographs
were first taken,
realizing that nothing
stays the same,
but even though
things have changed,
you can see old things as new
in the most ordinary rooms.
Even the dull moments
that make you long
to be elsewhere,
will prepare you
for where you want to be,
and you will have gratitude
when you arrive there.
Find the music
in the noise around you,
shuffling footsteps,
distant chatter,
the sound of doors
swinging open and closed,
the buzz of a phone,
the occasional laughter . . .
You may not have chosen
your surroundings,
but you can choose
to find life in them.
When that inner
critical voice
decides
to speak,
it must not
lead the way.
It does not speak
for how you have grown.
It does not speak
for when you fell.
It does not speak
for where you are going
and the story
your life tells.
Fall in love with the art of living.
Fall in love with letting things be.
Fall in love with listening.
Be still in the sun,
where the winds ever-gently blow,
knowing it is here,
in moments like this,
you are living,
and you will grow.
YOU ARE FREE
TO LAY YOUR
BURDENS DOWN,
COMING ALIVE
RIGHT HERE,
RIGHT NOW.
MAY YOU CLING TO ENDLESS PEACE
NO MATTER YOUR UNKNOWNS.
MAY IT BE A FEAST OF HOPE SET BEFORE YOU
WHEN YOU FEEL THE MOST ALONE.
I do not know
what has left you empty
or made you feel
like you could never be
enough—
that your love
was not enough.
But I can promise you,
as long as your heart is beating,
you are meant to be
on this earth, and you have more love to give,
and there is more love
to be given to you.
When you are exhausted
trying to choose
which door
is best
for you,
and you fear
that if you do not make the right choice
at a wall of a hundred doors,
slow down and remember,
within the Light,
you will not fail.
Once you begin to see
how Light spills through
no matter which door you choose,
you will have confidence
to meet any challenges that lie ahead.
And even when your mind
is filled with questions,
your heart is filled with joy,
you are learning to see
that in every corner,
on every wall,
there are lessons in them all
and you are free
to walk with confidence
through whatever door
before you
that leads to new Life.
You have traveled so far,
and you choose
again
today
to walk in the Light.
This season
she is learning the art
of becoming,
unashamedly
stepping out
from behind the iron gate
she settled behind
long ago.
She is stepping
onto the cracked sidewalk
overgrown with wild green,
choosing to believe
out here in the unfamiliar,
in the open
she is free
to explore,
discover,
uncover
who she
is meant to be.
You do not have to live afraid.
You do not have to live
with the lie
that things will always be this way.
Today you can believe
things will come together
as they should,
all by grace,
for the better,
for the good.
I want to plant
bellflowers
in unexpected places.
I want to know
color
after the rain,
for I have endured too much pain.
I have seen too many storms
that were supposed to stay at sea.
I never thought they would find me.
I found strength to breathe
one breath
at a time,
so I could know
true peace,
a field in bloom
in my crowded mind,
and to believe
even this
would pass,
and I would find rest
and healing,
at last.