Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts

Sunday, April 26, 2015

The bend in the road.




“What you do in the present—by painting, preaching, singing, sewing, praying, teaching, building hospitals, digging wells, campaigning for justice, writing poems, caring for the needy, loving your neighbor as yourself—will last into God’s future. These activities are not simply ways of making the present life a little less beastly, a little more bearable, until the day when we leave it behind altogether. They are part of what we may call building for God’s kingdom.” 
– N. T. Wright

The things I've learned this year, some are like thunder and others are like tiny white buds. I've experienced the boisterous and vivacious and the gentle and small, small, small, all of which are true and genuine. It's April, and I understand things better. I get it now. 
All this matters. 
There is purpose in this seemingly heart-rending and insufferable existence. There is meaning behind your sorrows. There is redemption after your weeping. There is a plan for your drudgery. There is joy coming in the morning. 
Each day awakens, and each day brings dusk. 
And you? You are alive. Your life means something. You mean something. Do not doubt the necessity of your feet on this spinning planet. Even if it seems unbearable, I promise you, there is a reason for that. We are ecclesiastical in the sense of the third chapter of the book. We are not always fickle, we are simply human. We hurt and we heal. For as Anne says, "There is another bend in the road after this." Or rather, this too shall pass. And friends? It does. You wake one morning and the sun is spilling and you realize that you've moved on. Yes, things ache and throb, but you have stepped past the dark place and you are His still. 
Don't give up. 
Maybe you're tired, or you feel like you have no meaning or impact on those around you, let alone the world. Maybe you think everyone else is making a difference but you. Maybe you can't see a silver lining. Maybe you're just done. Maybe you don't see the point. Maybe you're rejected and you feel alone and abandoned and that no one cherishes you. Maybe it's not fair. Maybe you've failed. Maybe you're at the very bottom of it all and your weakest point. Maybe you've lost everything, or never had anything. Maybe the impossible, the unthinkable happened. Maybe the odds aren't in your favor. Maybe you're lost and have no sense of direction and this is just a void. Maybe you're empty.
Maybe you're in the dark, the dark, the dark.
But there is a bend in the road my friend. 
It's coming. 
Do not yield. Press in, lean in. Shoot straight, and continue on the course. Even still, in the blackest of nights, the North Star is there. Your purpose is a compass, His presence is a reassurance. You are building God's kingdom. And maybe right now you're in a trench, covered in mud and dust and dirt, and you don't understand why this is even happening, but it matters. That trench is for the foundation. You will build on it. There will come a day when you climb out, you reach the top of the pit, and you look back down and He will say, "See? See how I stayed your hand there? See how you trusted Me in that corner? See the sure, straight line which you dug in the deepest, darkest part? That was because you kept on. That was because you had faith." 
You will turn the bend, and all will be well. 

One day, when everything comes to fruition and redemption is finally accomplished, we will look at His work by our hands, and we will see the goodness and the glory and the reasons. We will have crossed our Jordans. We will have lived our Ecclesiastes. We will have fulfilled His grace. 
We will know.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Being nice is not overrated


Some days I see the point of all this. I wake up passionate and ready and brimming, almost spilling over with effort. And it's easy. It's easy to sit through the lectures. It's easy to read the countless articles and pages of pages textbooks. It's easy to watch the documentaries. It's easy to memorize and recite and practice and discover and explore.
And then there are days.
Then there are mornings.

There are mornings when all I want to do is quit.

But I am coming to see that this is only what I make of it, and those mornings, those mornings are my choice. I choose whether or not to fully embrace today or every day. I choose that.
So I am choosing to make this what I want it to be.
I am choosing no bad days.
I am choosing to forgive others + myself.
I am choosing no regrets.
I am choosing to work harder, and then harder.
I am choosing to hide the love letters in the hallways and books and cracks and desks and chairs.

I am choosing to make a difference + an impact in these years.

I am choosing to love.

I am choosing to be salt.

I am choosing to be light.

This morning was one of those mornings. I woke up and poured my tea on my hand not in my mug + I wanted to cry for no reason at all. I had a sad song in the back of my mind, my French homework was hard to understand, and I hadn't gotten enough sleep for precisely those two reasons. I missed people. I wanted to mope. And sob. And give up. And frown. And do everything but exude joy + bursting.
So I wrote a love letter.
I scratched some happy truths out on a small painted card. I sealed a creamy pale yellow envelope. I pressed some bright fall leaves into the back pages of my Bible. I put my headphones in + listened to Josh Garrels while I walked to the bus stop. I pondered grace. I got over myself.
And I made a choice.
I made the most of today.
I know that sometimes it is hard. I'm definitely not preaching happiness constantly and in a never-ending manner, but I am preaching persistence. I think that oftentimes we don't try hard enough. And yes, I have my teary-eyed moments + I sob my tiny heart out in very true form, but many of those times have been more of a lie than a truth. It was just me giving up. It was just me wanting to quit. It was just me, all about me.
A + I are by no means doing everything perfectly over here. We've been down south for almost two months now — longer for me — and we still don't have jobs. I have turned in over twenty applications and resumés. We sometimes lack motivation. We deny ourselves things we want or need because we fear the future. We procrastinate. We don't understand. And we stand for Jesus in a way here that is already beginning to bring condemnation in a fiercer manner than I would have thought.
But all is well.
We choose for all to be well. I choose it, daily + with an anchor of a soul. This will be one of the greatest portions of my life. This will be one of my best mountains I conquer. This will be beautiful. I am determined for it to be so. With small paintings of letters + flowers at our kitchen table and love letters and dedication and a perpetual pressing forward.

I just want you to know, this morning I chose to be nice.
It was one of the best things.
You should try it.

I have some dear, dear things to share with all of you soon, about changing churches + being a single woman + pursuing things. I am learning a lot these days as I am striking out on my own, and I hope to be more of an encouragement as I express the things that God is working in me. He is so constant + good friends, always, always. He is blossoming some new dreams in the pockets of my heart — or — more likely I am only just now uncovering the buds that were already there, but they are wondrous. That you need to know. They are wondrous, and you have some too. I promise, I'll help show you. 
Sometimes all we need is someone to help us out a little bit. Sometimes all we need is a little niceness. 

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

How I am getting over myself.


I used to have mornings when I didn't want to get out of bed. For many reasons, but the most prominent that I can remember is that I didn't like who I was. I wasn't happy. And getting out of bed meant that I had to admit that. And also that I had to try to like myself.
I thought my life was amazing. There was no reason for me to be unhappy. It didn't make any sense. And so I would lay there, wrapped in my quilt, wishing the day away. Praying that God would just give me an epiphany and I would suddenly understand why I didn't like my wonderful life.

I used to think I knew everything.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Today.


For so long I was chasing happiness. So sure that it was a place I would come to someday. I searched for years. I threw so many beautiful things and people and ideas away because of my endless endeavor and hunt.
Then.
Then I read the words of Margaret Lee Runbeck. She says,

"Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling."

I already know where I'm going. And I get to choose who I'll be and what I believe and how I act till I get there. 
I choose happiness. 
I get to choose happiness. 
And that is something entirely, wholly beautiful. 

I have had an incredible June day. And it is ending with a sunset out the kitchen window and my Bible open to Esther and coffee brewing to be paired with ice and milk tomorrow.
I am happy. 

Are you?

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Joy.

In the quietest, quietest, quietest small hours of my early mornings, I take account of life.
The woven threads and distances are so long. And I am keen to trace them backwards with a sweet reminiscence. But I am even keener to keep spinning them, to keep walking in the rhythm of my slow cadence.

"Never forget your past, but please pour out your heart to the future. Life is too short to spend in mock sadness and wallow in yourself. You are a bright bundle of mistakes, do not rob yourself of them all. You built them. You created them. Own them dear. They are a part of you, and all parts of you are important. Press. Press hard and long and with a deepness that will shock everyone who glimpses even just a portion of your shoulders."

We choose so many things every day.
In my morning hours, I choose joy.

Friday, April 23, 2010

SUNday.

Dear Fleur.
Goodbye till Sunday.
I will be taking a holiday at the ocean.
That is all.
Love,
Bell.

EDIT:
Now all screaming and jumping and painting and wearing pink may commence.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Pierre.

Dear Fleur.
I kind of want a French boy today. Maybe one named Pierre. Or some other delightful French name. You know, one of those names that makes your ears feel like someone is pouring paper hearts all over your face?
I like french names.
And I want a french boy today.
I already miss him.
And I don't even have him.
Crazy fille.That's the definition of me if you didn't know: "crazy petite fille."
I hope my French boy wouldn't mind loving me.
But maybe he'll be crazy too.
(photo via LeLove)

I would never say that to my French man.

Love from Bella.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Hands.

Dear Fleur.
Writing this morning.
In purple high heels.
This picture was my inspiration.


(photo via betterthanfine)

And I loved it.
Made me think
"baiser.baiser." in my head.
It was brilliant.
Love from Bella.