How to Re-Begin

It seems I've forgotten how to begin. After all it's been quite some time. 

I have thinking about some excuse for my absence, but no matter how many projects or assignments I could list none of it would be enough, or true for that matter. I have had plenty of time to write. 

In fact I have been writing often.

Just not on here. 

Because, the truth is, I've been selfish. 

I've wanted to keep my thoughts my own.

I've wanted to sort through them without a million questions or people to answer to.

I've wanted to protect them from my past.

I've wanted to simply run away with them and never come back.

Unfortunately for me, that plan doesn't fit with God's plan. 

And now I feel like I am at an impasse.

Because my heart doesn't want to disclose any more information than it already had, but I know that the deeper cuts will find themselves into my words whether I will them to or not.  

So I've avoided it.

I've written, but I've hidden my thoughts from the world, sentencing myself to silence.

And now it feels like I am relearning how to speak.

I am rediscovering my voice. 

In fact I think lately it has changed. 

I just don't know how. 

Guess I'll work on figuring that out and I'll get back to you.

Something I've noticed

Lately I've noticed that if there is a pen nearby, somewhere within my reach, I cannot help but pick it up.

It is like my hand doesn't feel complete without the addition of the creative freedom a pen allows.

It is if God shaped my hand perfect for the pen to be inserted into.

In fact I bet He did.

For it is when I grasp my familiar friend I feel at home, it is when my muscles relax and my mind finds rest.

And it is when I can hear God's voice the clearest.

Or maybe it is when I really take the time to listen.

He made someone who needs to write, someone who has had writing "spread its roots into the very depths of [my] heart" (Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet) 

And thus my hand searches for the warmth a pen brings, for its ability to inspire life itself.

Being Intentional

This summer I wrote a list of goals I have for the year.

Most of them were simple yearly goals regarding things like how many times I will go to chapel each week,  but there is one that I have grown particularly fond of.

Once a week I have to take a walk with God. 

That means once I week I have to immerse myself in God's creation and marvel at His majesty.

And Majestic He is.

Not only is this a time for me to admire His masterful workmanship, but it is a time when I have to acknowledge His ever-constant Presence.

Sometimes I feel like God is in the room, sitting quietly and patiently for us to ask Him to join our conversations, and too often I feel like we leave Him out.

He is always with us, so why do we allow ourselves to act and speak as if He cannot hear or see us?

So in walking with God there is a level of intentionality added.

When you take a walk with someone you assume that you will talk with them while you walk.

You'll point out the things you see along the way.

You'll stop and watch the slug slowly slither.

You'll chase the butterfly hoping to catch it in your hand.

You'll pick wild blackberries and eat them without washing them, amazed at how much better they taste that way.

I know it seems silly to tell God about all of these things because He was the one who made them and He understands them better than I ever could, but God created us to walk with Him in this way.

He walked with Adam and Eve in the garden.

He probably answered their questions about the fruits upon the trees and the animals that crossed their path.

But He wants to be included in our lives.

After all, He is already so involved in them.

And like He did with Adam and Eve today He answered my questions, and replenished my soul.

All because I chose to be intentional. 

Changing my mind again

Lately there has been a song that has been striking me as more and more true each day.

It goes back to the concept I have of being like children.

And I want to share the lyrics with you 

"When the rain felt like freedom,

when the days were endless,

when the world filled our senses and our pockets were penniless,

when the boys were still mysteries,

when a kiss was a monster

without any histories and you wish it could last longer.

Cause we decided,

that we were delighted,

When did we change our minds?

When did we change our minds?

When the clouds gathered like magic

when we weren't ashamed to sing

when the sky was just as high as the tallest boy could swing,

when our parents were heroes 

when our teachers knew best

and we never did quite notice how the other girls would dress.

Cause we decided,

that we were delighted,

When did we change our minds?

When did we change our minds?

When the porch swing was a sailboat,

when your father was a king

when a gift was like a miracle

and we could do anything

when we held hands with our friends

and we weren't afraid to love

when our mothers held us tightly and it was never quite enough.

We know when we changed our minds

We know when and why

Was it worth it?

Was it worth it to you?

(2x)

Oh let's change our minds.(2x

Let's Change our minds (2x)

Again."

~"When" By Annie Brooks.

To me, the rain still does feel like freedom.

It is one of the last piece of my childhood that I have clung to desperately.

But working so much with children this summer brought me back to idea of magic being possible, and  that objects were made for so much more than their basic use. 

It brought me back to concept of awe, pure wonder at all the world has to offer. 

And that is a concept I'm working hard at regaining.

Because if I hold on to that reverence, if I get my grip around it, then I think I will be able to see and react appropriately to all of the awe-inspiring things God does daily, for there are countless. 

And they should be taken account of.

So that is what I'm trying to do: change my mind again, go as far backwards as I can.

A true writer

Although I haven't been as regular posting lately, that does not mean I have lost my love or passion for it.

In fact here is a little story to prove that I have not.

I was on the plane heading north for school and I was working on my current novel. And while I was writing and going through the motions of my character's journey, a thought came to my head, one I had to jot in my other notebook.

So I awkwardly maneuvered myself to get into my bag stored under the seat in order to pull out my little blue notebook in exchange for the brown.

I wrote in that one for a bit, and it got me to think about my character once more, so I shifted around in my seat to retrieve my brown notebook from where I had only moments ago just placed it back in my bag.

This time however I kept both of the notebooks out, shifting from one to the other frequently, enlisting stares from the passengers on either side of me.

But I was too immersed in the words to care. Which is often what happens when you give me something to write about, a pen and some paper.

You know you are a writer when...

A Simple Status Update

The days have flown by silently and rapid like an eagle swooping for his prey.

But now there is a momentary calm for me to sit and sort through my many thoughts.

While I have barely had a moment to myself, this last week has been all new kinds of wonderful.

God has already allowed new friendships to form and He has done incredible things within the first few days alone.

And the best bit is that I know He is no where near done. I have only been here seven days. Only a full week.

And I feel like enough has happened to span months.

For one, if there had been any doubts in my mind about my living situations, He has expelled those. He has surrounded me with old friends, and He has gifted me with some new ones that I know will stick.

I have a kitchen across the hall so I am no longer concerned about my eating.

I have gained back some of the weight I had lost.

And I have laughed a lot.

All of the worries I came to school with have been dismantled.

My classes all appear to be wonderful.

I have a space to myself.

And yet I am still surrounded by people who care about me.

It has all been surreally perfect.

I know it won't always feel that way, but I know God has brought me back for a reason, and I am not going to rest until I figure that reason out.

And I am so excited to.

The Return

I am back once more to Trinity Western University.

I am fully unpacked and moved in.

My photos are hung. My bed is made. My fridge stocked.

And most of me feels ready for the year that is to come.

There is still a part of me that wants to be in the same dorm, with the same roommate, and all of the same classes. Because I figured all of those things out, I knew how to deal with all they could throw me.

But now there are all new variables that I will have to account for.

And while most of me is excited for the challenges they will provide and the confidence that I can face them all with the Lord's aid, there is still a slight bit that fears what is to come.


And honestly, I think this mild fear is actually going to be good for me.

It reminds me that I'm not doing any of this alone, and any reminder for that is a welcome one.

My desk... Each long strip of paper a verse typed on my typewriter