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“When hard pressed, I cried to the Lord; he brought me into a spacious place.”

Psalms 118:5 NIV

I can see many ways in which I have functioned as a burden bearer. I have taken on burdens that I am not meant to carry. I have not put my full trust in God’s more than sufficient care. Not believing wholeheartedly that He carries me and that I can entrust those I love into His more than capable, all-loving hands. 

This way of functioning is something that I learned early in my life but this last year has tipped the scales and my body has felt the full impact. Due to varying circumstances, hardship and heart break, I have steadily taken on burden after burden as if in doing so I could somehow control the outcome or contain any further suffering. This uptick in the amount of stress I have absorbed has caused my body to physically hurt.

I am confident that even though I may have learned early how to bear burdens out of dysfunction and survival, I am also gifted in seeing and sitting with others who are burdened. I have the ability to create space without feeling the need to fix or do anything. I am not afraid or uncomfortable to sit with others in their pain and sadness. 

By God’s Grace, He is slowly and gently teaching me a lighter way of living. I am beginning to trust Him at an even deeper level. I am not made to collect my burdens or anyone else’s. My frame was not meant for this. 

Jesus took on the weight of my sin, my burdens and the whole of this world’s burdens upon His frame. His body broken, His blood shed so that all of us can be set free. He died and rose again so we can be made new. Through Jesus we are unburdened and restored, given full access to live into the open-handed abundance that we were made for. 

I am called to draw near to Jesus who is ever near to me and with unclenched hands, surrender each and every burden at His feet. He takes each one and calls them precious and in their place, He gives me a more spacious place. A space where His peace, comfort and freedom reside not only for me but for all He calls me to sit with and see. 

You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.

Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.

-Saint Ignatius of Loyola

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Isaiah 40:29-31 NIV

“My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.”

John 15:12 NIV

I am called to….

Cultivate order and creativity out of chaos.

Find beauty among the ashes and rubble. 

Hold space for and bear witness to pain and grieving.

Nurture joy where there is sorrow.

Promote health and healing for the weak and wounded.

Piece together wholeness from the broken.

Grow new life out of the grit and overgrown.

Welcome in the unseen and the outcast. 

Seek out treasure within lost hearts.

Speak words of truth and grace where lies reside.

Plant peace in the presence of war.

Foster freedom in the face of fear and oppression.

Carry light into the darkest places.

I am called to love because He first loved me. 

“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us.”

1 John 4:16-19 NIV

May you know today that you are loved just as you are. Out of His love abundantly poured out, may we each be given greater courage to love others in the bold and beautiful ways in which we were created and called.

What are some unique ways in which God has gifted and called you to love? I would be honored to hear your heart through the comments or by email. 

In love and grace, 

Heather

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.”

Psalms 139:11-12 NIV

There was a small dark room where my fears and pain were locked up tight. The stench of shame at times was overwhelming. The loneliness and lack of life unbearable. The darkness and death all-consuming. I would shut my eyes, pressing my face against my pillow, my pain turning inward. Pushing my fists hard into my eyes, I only saw pin pricks of light piercing the dark. I had no language around this loss. I was not given a voice to cry out. No sound of rescue, no foot steps heard on the other side of that door. I felt alone, forsaken, imprisoned behind the walls of my pain. 

Then a voice came sure and strong telling me, 

“Your pain was never meant to be a prison”. 

These words spoke from the unfolding of my future into the deep and rutted paths of my past. These words spoke life and longing and in a breath, they spoke, 

“Let there be light!’ 

In that moment, pure radiant light poured in through a wide open door. Like a warm welcoming embrace, wrapping and holding me, soaking into every aching, empty space. Time woven together, knitting all the broken pieces of my past, present and future into something new and more beautiful. I was never alone in that dark frightful room. Even the darkness is not dark to Him. He was always with me. 

Now this room is filled with light, the Father’s loving embrace and a young girl’s laughter. My pain was never meant to be a prison, only a prism, where His light floods in and through me and His glory shines ever bright. 

“You are all children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.”

1 Thessalonians 5:5 NIV

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Words stir in me, rising like the tide, wild and wondrous. The waves break and then subside. Out to sea once more, I can no longer reach them. I go silent and the ache inside me grows stronger.

These lost words tell of the beauty I see, of the light and dark that flutter in and out of my line of vision. I want to tell the world that I see God in my grief and in my garden and inside the walls of hospital rooms. To tell of the God that is within me and shines in the eyes and hearts of those I work and rub shoulders with. Those I have snippets of conversations with, who thirst and hunger on my street corner and in whom I share life with and love more than any word can speak. 

I want to tell of the freedom I ache for, the light I crave. The visions I see of a world without all this groaning. A world being made new, midwifed by all who see beauty in the dark places, the tangled weeds, the rubble and the war. 

I want my words to ring loud with hope like a bell on a church steeple.
To shine bright like a lighthouse, leading home the lost at sea.
To watch, wait and welcome like a house on a hill. 

Yet the waves of this life keep crashing and raging. They keep knocking me down and knocking the wind and the words right out of me. Even so, I can no longer contain the waves that keep rising within me. The words I must allow myself to speak, to ring out, to proclaim loud and true. To illuminate my corner in this world, my small lot within this precious life.

I see God in all things, birthing new life. His glory ringing truer, stronger, more wild and wondrous than my words can ever speak. I am made to write, to put words on paper and proclaim life and hope to a world broken and beaten down. This world is groaning as in childbirth to be made new and I have eyes to see and a voice to ring loud, 

I am a bell ringing out.
I am a light piercing the dark. 
I am a house on a hill. 
I am a midwife calling forth wild hope
and wondrous new life through the wielding of my words. 

God is for us. 

His love made a way through the wild waves of this world by giving us Jesus, Immanuel.

God with us. 

He has given us the Holy Spirit who guides us towards the Way, the Truth and the Life. 

God within us. 

He is the Word and the Truth  that I see and must speak. 
In Him, I am free. These waves have no power over me. 

This post was inspired by the new movie, out in theaters this Christmas season called, “ I Heard the Bells” which is about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s life story. It is profoundly beautiful. I can’t recommend it enough. It spoke to me so powerfully. While Longfellow’s life had great loss and tragedy, I was able to relate with his struggle with writing during a time of tremendous grief. While also inspiring me not to remain silent but to share my unique voice. 

I have been silent on my blog for a year now and I believe it is because I too am grieving. Not because of one great loss but because of many small yet significant losses. I am writing this because I know that I am not alone in this. We are all grieving individually and collectively in big and small ways and sometimes mere words can not express how our hearts are aching. I hope and pray that my words will bring renewed hope and inspire you to be a strong voice of hope to this weary and waiting world. 

And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’
-From “Christmas Bells” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year
from my heart and home to yours! 

In love and grace, 
Heather

We are all broken, that’s is how the light gets in.
-Ernest Hemingway 

Come Lord Jesus, shine your light into…

the dark places.
the hopeless spaces.
the frazzled days.
the unmet longings. 
the ceaseless striving.
the bitter resentment.
the unresolved conflict.
the weary waiting.
the wounds yet healed.
the painful loss.
the underlying grief.
the lonely aching.
the dying dreams. 
the restless fears.
the sleepless nights.
the unspoken broken.
the ordinary mundane.
the desires yet born.

Come, Lord Jesus. Open wide the doors of my heart. Let your glory-filled light flood in. Illuminate all the cracks and crevices. Redeem every nook and cranny of my life. May the most shattered pieces of my story be where your light shines most radiant and bright. 

I look back and I see, your love has never stopped coming for me. Finding me in the shadows of my shame. Gently tending to my deepest pain. I need not be afraid when uncertainty shrouds my vision, for your light breaks through, piercing the dark night. 

Though my little light seems a mere flicker, your light through me—rises and shines like the dawn of a new day. 

This little light of mine,
I’m going to let it shine!
Oh, this little light of mine,
I’m going to let it shine!

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”
Isaiah‬ ‭9:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.”
James‬ ‭1:17‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Soft early light. Inhaling, exhaling. Aroma of coffee brewing. Waking alongside my love, my friend. Quiet before everyone wakes. Time with God. Words of Life. Refilling of Peace. Bare feet on wood floors. Hungry kitty hellos. Oldest one, taller than me, immersed in a story. Morning hugs times six. Warm creamy coffee. Fresh-laid eggs. Just ripe banana. Blueberries, sweet as candy. Toast with golden peach jam. Bird song. Cool gentle breeze. Brothers three, bonding over baseball. Refreshing shower. Healing power of song. Littlest one, singing along. Summer garden bounty. Sun ripe tomatoes. First dahlia blooming. Tiny green Praying Mantis. Morning Glories unfurling. Happy chickens chattering. Children laughing. Big sloppy puppy love. New mercies waiting. Goodness surrounding. Beauty abounding. With fresh, keen eyes, I am hunting, I am finding. 

I am not a morning person. I usually wake with a cloudy head, my heart overshadowed by too many worries. I struggle to see beauty in my everyday moments. I tend to allow despair and discouragement to dictate my day. 

It takes intentionally on my part to choose another way through my day. To choose the path of peace, joy and abundance. It is there, quietly waiting, if I make the choice to slow down and see with new eyes. To see beyond circumstances, beyond the moments of chaos that sometimes play a leading role in my home but mostly in my own heart and mind. 

The list above is not a picture perfect snapshot of a day in my life but instead it is the beginning of my list of the ways He loves. Bullet points of the ways He continues to reveal His glory in my ordinary moments and His delight in the simplest of pleasures. 

In the last year and half, I’ve thought a lot about being a beauty hunter, a light bearer, a life giver. I think it is important that we each bear witness to His beauty which is all around us. To push back the dark and live into the light. 

When we name our gifts, we give credit to the Giver of every good and perfect gift. To the Father of Lights, who gives generously to all of His creation. As sons and daughters, we are each called to bring forth our Father’s Kingdom to a world that disparately needs His freedom. This is our inheritance. This is who we were made to be and who we are continually called deeper into becoming. 

We must first have eyes to see, to name, His gifts, one by one. It is in the calling forth of His beauty and goodness that we push back the darkness and proclaim His mighty love. This love so powerful that it can set every captive free. 

Will you join me in taking on the call to become a beauty hunter? Looking with fresh eyes of wonder and inspiration at all the ways God weaves His mercy and grace in and through our everyday moments. Today, begin with your list of the ways He loves.