there are spaces in the human journey that are stinging & solemn & sacred.

they are full of angst and anger and ache.

they are overflowing with suffering. undoing. just surviving.

these spaces are valley. desert. wilderness.

in the valley we feel trapped.
in the desert we feel exhausted.
in the wilderness we feel lost.

sometimes… you’re in all three.

if you haven’t had the terrifying privilege of journeying through these strange and foreign wild places, you will soon enough. these places are sacred because they are the part of the human experience where a veil is cut open & we so often most deeply and profoundly experience Divine encounters with shalom.

and yet… they are the places of doubt, and of wandering, and of feeling lost, and of the deep, deep starless night of the soul.

this is the mystery.


I have a lot of questions lately. the valley & desert & wilderness are full of them, after all. and I’m beginning more and more to realize that this is simply the way of things. that questions are part of the fabric of life, and that by ignoring them or running from them is the way that we run from and ignore life.

and we don’t run from life. we can’t.

we chase after it.

I’ll be holding space & treading deeper into the wild country that is this discussion in the next few blog posts… but for now, hear this:

your questions are valid.
they are good.
they matter.
they are worthwhile to ask.

sit with your questions. look at them, be calm, and hold conference with them. allow them to be, to exist, to stare quietly back at you… until you find your answer. then, and only then, release them.

I can’t wait to chat about the valley… how to know if you’re in one, and how to flourish until you reach the mountaintop ❤

ten (not so) tiny truths

Sometimes the days grow really hard, and we just need a little encouragement to make it through the week, the day, the hour… 💜

here are a few things to remember today, hurting friend…

tiny truths

1.) a burden is something you carry, not something you are.

2.) grace is greater. than effing everything.

3.) you are not what has happened to you. you are not the tragedy that has been inflicted upon you.

4.) it’s good to mourn the losses. even if they’re “small“.

5.) to need help, support, and love is not something to be ashamed of. It is to be human. even Jesus needed help carrying His cross

6.) a cozy blanket, a close friend, and a cup of your favorite drink will go a long way in your journey towards healing.

7.) the cracks are where the light shines through. Don’t waste time hating your scars.

8.) pray with tears instead of words. They are understood just as well.

9.) you have been made worthy of love. and you are loved. 

10.) you aren’t being buried; you’re being planted. you’re going to grow, sprouting and lovely from this dirt.

hang in there, sweet soul. ❤

letting the dead things go…

it’s been a while since I showed my face here on the interwebs.

hello 🙂

I’ve been off learning lessons and aching deeply and living joyously.

because life is really shitty sometimes, and God is really good always, and sometimes it’s really hard to understand how both can be true at the same time.

you know, like when the whole world is in uproar, and refugees are fleeing and the unborn are being murdered and people you love with your whole heart are being emotionally wounded in excruciating ways.

and you just sit on your bed and stare at the opposite wall and go “what the hell?”

and all the evidence points to the world falling to pieces, and that’s when your anxiety disorder and struggle with depression make total sense to you, and you wonder why everyone in the world isn’t on medication for it. like, how do people live their lives without being snapped in half by the reality of all of this?

and you mourn the loss of all the dreams that look like they’re never going to come to pass, and the child you were desperately hoping to start the adoption process for this winter, and the brokenness all around you, engulfing you.

and you clench your fists into your eyes to stop the crying and just have to go “why the fuck is this happening, God?”

and you mourn, and you seek the word and find that you are blessed.
that you are, in some supernatural way, comforted.

blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted… matthew 5:4

and you ache for it.

and finally the tears are done falling, and you’re just kind of empty… and the corpses of all the heartaches are just littering your heart like some strange grave yard.

and that’s when it’s time to finally let the dead things go.


autumn is always the time when I fight this until I finally find peace.

I’m fighting it now, friends.

I don’t want to let them go. for some reason I find it to be my good penance to hold the deadness in. I think it’s my lot in life to carry the heavy corpses. but they don’t need to be carried… they need to be buried.

I’m still learning this. I know it, but sometimes I don’t feel it. I don’t really have all the answers except to say that I know my Redeemer lives, and at the last, He will stand upon the earth. (Job 19:25)

that’s what I’m holding out for. that’s why I’m letting the dead things go, slow and difficult though it may be.

and, oh, sweet friend… it’s a lovely, lovely thing.