circles

I'll expound on this at some point I'm sure, seeing how all things are related and interrelated and how they come full circle and the layers of concentric circles in life and rhythms and people and relationship, but at this point, I just mean that I've been pacing circles wearing out the floorboards of my mind as well as the creakity old house where I live. I've been in avoidance mode and now little bits of fear are creeping in. I'm getting more tightly wound so that I need to verbally vomit and may be on the brink of tears--not my norm. I want to run 10 miles and write 10 papers and scream and jump up and down and rejoice and mourn all at once. I am a bundle of energy and emotions with no way of funneling it into all of the things I have procrastinated on and am afraid of.
Jesus, will you help me? Do you see your little sheep, just one of the flock, many of whom feel the same? Thank you for being the faithful one and for asking me to follow even when getting out of the boat is terrifyingly wonderful. All my love.

Purposefully coloring beyond the lines

Not just coloring outside the lines for the sake of breaking boundaries, rather that you really get the point of the lines and you use them well...that sort of thing. Listen.

Walk the boundary line of the property or the mountain path to the heights. This can be such a beautiful and thrilling walk as expectancy and dreams push against the casing of your body, threatening to burst forth in hope. All is given, all is required.

Truth and fear and judgment and freedom and self-absorption and being hidden and lost in God alone who is enough.

I’m just a little bit lost and recognizing that my boundary-less-ness is starting to hurt and it will only get worse. I know that at the end of my days I will be called to account. I’m getting hit over the head with the stewardship and priorities piece, but I’m still a little too dense and stubborn to really take it to heart and let it slowly alter the muscle fibers until my limbs move as they were made to in the beautiful dance.

As I try to stand up and join in, fear jumps at me and grabs me, hard, pushing me back down. Anxiety weighs so heavy that at times it’s quite suffocating.

Condemnation, alternating between others and self pushes the shackles tighter until they cut into the skin. I cry out, yelping, whimpering, silent tears rolling down. These chains are gone. I’ve been set free since my kinsman redeemer came for me. Why do I sit with them, so bewildered? Stuck. Playing in the mud until it’s quite a mess of mire and bitterness.

Cleaning it out can be quite the process. It’s smelly, arduous, time-consuming and can feel insurmountable when we’ve let the grime build so long.

We tell ourselves, Yes, maybe they are wrong. So what? Maybe it’s just me. Either way we’re just switching bad guys instead of letting Christ actually set us free and teach us to walk in newness of life. Sacrifice. Lay it down and die. To live.  

It’s true. It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. But you desire truth in our inmost parts. Not compliance and conflict. Peace that passes understanding for those who are far have been brought near!

There's more that goes with all of this, but in general, what joy to think of the freedom that we have when we know how it works--reminded of that process--learning the scales so you can improvise jazz, practicing fundamentals and learning the rules so you can play the game with finesse, cooking by a recipe so you can go without, learning the rules of English grammar so you can play with language and even break the constructs from time to time... It just has to work like that. We can't go for fake freedom. It has to be the real thing. 

that’s kind of what I’m thinking. And now I’m getting past that tired time, so I’ll let the universe carry on while I let my body, mind, soul rest and reset in sleep. completely unsure of what’s to come and ok with that. 

thanks for the Romans 12 reminder, Mom. : )