Ramblings

A SKILLFUL ARCHITECT 
good architecture
built up by the foundations of joy. 
that is my want
to have open windows
the light filtering out from within. 
to have exposed beams
strong, sturdy, bare
that hold up the fragile 
the pieces of me that bend under 
the weight of sought after approval. 
to have a blue front door
the kind that seems to say 
“come on in, it’s nice inside” 
to have good architecture 
requires and skillful architect. 
and that
i have. 

GROWING PAINS
a new kind of growing pain has been making an appearance these days. my heart on a potters wheel, being molded, shaped, and trimmed for a new creation. I feel dizzy from the spinning wheel and bruised as my heart is pressed and kneaded. this work station of tools and discarded clay is active even in the darkest hours of the night- I can almost hear it within my chest. but i am thankful for this kind of growing pain, this achy and loud hum of change and growth. 

SCATTERED DOTS
life seems to be a series of dots on a piece of paper. significant ink marks the moments in life that seem all important. people, jobs, places that make you who you are. I feel those dots appearing on my life’s pages sometimes. In the peaceful moments watching the sun set, or while sitting in class, or meeting a face that seems so much like home. i want those dots to connect so badly. i want to see how these moments form the bigger picture, but im stuck with scattered dots around me. BUT God, the ultimate artist, is forming that picture that I can’t see. He is slowly connecting those seemly random ink spots to make it one picture, to make it whole. so while im in the middle dragging my pencil around this piece of paper, I just need to have patience that God will come through with the ink and connect these dots. 

BE STILL
held within this weary soul 
 is a collection of sun filled days, 
            still moments of post 
        conversational
   sighs, 
 a cat’s purr. 
 the comfortable blend of content and fullness 
 dwell within this breathing chest
 I dive deep
  within the stillness of this soul and 
             b r e a t h e 
                        for it it here I find peace. 

WORRIED WORDS 
the audacity of my heart to betray me. when panic strikes, when future troubles tumble 
 about my head. 
 this heart of mine takes off running, pumping out fear and worry the faster it goes- 
 “don’t you know it’s all okay?” I breathe to my tired bones. 
 they can’t catch up 
 with this racing heart, so often it leaves me in the dust. 

CLENCHED FISTS AND WHITE KNUCKLES
I hold onto things too tightly with these hands. im afraid to let go because im uneasy when it comes to loss and change which is something ive been working hard on. To let go. To let God unfurl my little fingers and take my worries and my fears into his own hands. gripping onto the idea of perfection and my own earthly plans is so exhausting and these hands are tired. im learning to open my hands to the unknown, to a world that I so desperately want to control. because what good can I do with my hands in fists, unable to use them for a greater purpose?