reflections

It's late. Always late.
It's a night owl season for me and my love. I desperately miss sunrises, but am trying not to complain. On Wednesday, I picked up my gratitude journal again. It has been over a month since I have actively pursued jotting down the little gifts of grace in my life. Once I remember, my heart begins to breathe again. My life is so rich, but my thoughts run astray in the multitude of minutes that pass with each day.

 Ah, I am a wild child. I accept it through and through. It is no lie when people say that marriage is no cure for a restless heart. It is the way of life. I struggle every day attempting to reconcile the fullness of my love for my husband as well as the great, terrifying sadness that often overtakes me from him not being enough for me, nor I for him. It is one of the most unsettling tensions I have ever had to experience. I think the romantic in me wants to stomp my feet and take up arguing this with Father. I have a bit of a naughty child in me; it isn't quite clear when she will grow up and move out. Needless to say, in all the very unique vulnerabilities and struggles that manifest after the first few months of marital bliss, I can honestly say that I am wonderfully and imperfectly O.K. This is my nature on the black and white days. I am feeler who is prone to introspection and melancholia. One can say I feel my lowest lows more deeply than my highest highs. It doesn't surprise me so much anymore. This has been the pattern of my life since as far back as I can remember. In all my inner loneliness and heart-wanderings, I am stretched upon the arms of my Lord. Sometimes, I weep in exhaustion from these repeated patterns of my nature and personality, desiring to do away with them, to be changed, to transform into someone better, more capable, and less like me.Yet, that isn't how this works. This, the Spirit-Life in God through Christ. It has more to do with receiving, accepting, and trusting rather than doing, behaving, and performing. In countless of ways, my husband I are both learning this together, almost as if for the very first time. Attempting to trust the enormity of Christ-in-me as a couple brings an entirely new dynamic. When we began our lives together, it was very much like opening up to a new life. Now, we must learn together and together is incredibly different from learning as an individual. You don't realize how awful you are at it until you are in a together.
 But, it is all right. Truly, it is.
 For the very first time in my life, I am learning to have patience with myself. It is so strange. I always rolled my eyes at those sayings of learning to forgive yourself, to have patience with yourself, to value yourself. Certainly, I do not believe there is any true or consistent power in trying to boost one's own self-esteem. However, I realized I was looking at it from an entirely wrong angle. Once I began to look at myself through my Father's eyes, that all changed. I learned to accept that He is patient towards me, values the whole of who I am, and forgives my failings. Many times, due to the expectations I hold myself to, I don't allow myself to receive that I am forgiven and valued by Him through it. In this revelation, I have begun to extend myself the grace that comes from His hands.

So, today, I am taking the very small steps to trust the greatest of truths ~ Christ in me ~ through the changeless seasons, the quiet days, and the monotony.

Ah, yes, He has me. All of me. 

~ ~ ~ ~

I keep finding fresh ideas for my blog, but never actually get myself to focus enough to do them. In the meantime, I am rearranging my blog layout and design. I want to simplify it a bit more so that it is not so overwhelming with images. It will most likely continue to change as I go since that is the way I do life. In the meantime, I hope to keep writing and sharing because I always need a medium to do so.

I conclude this post with photos from my flashy little smart phone. The 10th of this month found my dearest and I celebrating 7-months of our [very] young marriage. We drove through very hard rain to make it to our spur-of-the-weekend-planned-campsite. It was a grey weekend, but the sun greeted us on the lake as it set. The simple delights could not have been sweeter! The forest was blooming with color and, while my husband set up camp, I foraged the damp ground of the forest for wildflowers. In the evening, we roasted marshmallows and gazed at the stars glimmering above us with the faint haze of the Milky Way. Everything was divine.