“GO IN WITH HOPE & WALK OUT WITH BRAVERY.”
I texted this to a friend in a split second of her nervousness & need earlier today. it wasn’t until just a few minutes ago that I realize it was one of those moments.
you know the ones.
you say something, text something… and later, it comes back to haunt you. the very thing you spoke over another person drifts back to you like a gentle mist and begins to manifest in your life. it chills you with realization, wakes you up a bit, and stirs you with its power.
I happen to have been given the grace of a prophetic gift. I’ve always felt more… spiritual? I guess?… than people my age. more connected to the universe & to the souls of the people around me, while simultaneously feeling detached from the hum-drum and buzz of everyday concerns. it manifested in an eerily accurate intuition, a gift for encouragement, and a sensitivity to the still, small Voice. it took me a while to discern that this was a prophetic gift.
it’s taken me still longer to really participate in my own gifts. but I’m learning. I’m always learning.
but there are times when I’m surprised by it- like today. Continue reading “HOPE & BRAVERY | A PROPHETIC MANTRA”
we’re living an incredibly painful & difficult season over here in the Avrick house. that sounds like a broken record, doesn’t it? yeah. well, to be honest, the past three years have been both the hardest & best of our lives. and it just keeps going.
but I’m learning things. oh, how I’m learning. there’s nothing like a trial to plant you deeper, darker into black soil and then revel in your wild growth.
and here’s one of the freshest, most in-process truths I’m starting to tentatively sink into… being loved is brave. yeah.
letting yourself be loved. like, really sacrificially loved. it’s hard for me. it takes everything in me to soften and allow hands of love to be opened in my direction.
it opens years of wounding, years full of fear that I’m a burden, that I’m too much to carry, that maybe I’m a waste, that I’m just a troublesome human clinging to affection. it’s close to impossible to be loved in big, mountain-moving ways without me feeling those old haunts coming back to wrap their toxins around my fragile heart.
it feels like an insurmountable task- to be fully loved. Continue reading “BEING LOVED IS BRAVE”
goodness is doing its work in me, and it’s face looks a lot like trial.
every time I go to the beach I spend the first day clinging to the sand. terrified of the waves and the way they crash, white foam sputtering, into themselves. flinging bits of sand and seaweed into the salty air. thrashing upon the shore like violent fists coming down hard on a pillow of gritty sand.
perhaps it’s childish. perhaps I’m just not very brave.
but they scare me at first. every time. no matter how old I get.
I imagine getting thrashed and pummeled by those angry fists of water and foam. imagine getting dragged like a rake through turbulent under-currents. just thinking about it sends little spurts of anxiety, like lightning, through my chest.
ah, yes. goodness is doing its work in me, and it feels a lot like being drowned, sputtering and gurgling, to the bottom of a swirling ocean.
and if I’m honest… the shore feels so much safer, so much objectively smarter, so much kinder to a battered & waterlogged heart.
but the sand is only smooth from being softened.
and I am only gentle from being rubbed the wrong way till all my sharp edges are gone. Continue reading “SOFTENED LIKE SAND”