April 23 – Diary

Jesus Time

Thank You for my nephew.
Thank You for parents who look out for me and are happy for me, even if stress gets in the way of showing it sometimes.
Thank You for friends who care, and taking out of my life the ones who don’t.
Thank You for Jonny, and the man he is becoming.
Thank You for Jonny, and the man he is. His maturity, patience, strength, wisdom, joy and grace.
Thank You for always providing, even when it looks impossible.
Thank You for being the Dream – Maker.
Thank You that I’m home again where I belong, and serving You is often such a wild ride.
Thank You for blessing me so much more than I deserve.
Thank You that I’m Yours.

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Isaiah 40:10-11

“See, the Sovereign Lord comes with power, and His arm rules for Him. See, His reward is with Him, and His recompense accompanies Him. He tends His flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in His arm and carries them close to His heart; He gently leads those that have young.”

I would be lying if I said coming home has been painless. Within just this month, I’ve had more than one breakdown, days that felt like dreams, times of denial, complacency, and sheer rebellion against both what happened and the reality of the riches of America. Everything feels so shiny, covered in glitter and wrapped in celophame, not meant to be touched or enjoyed but simply seen.

That’s so much of what we care about isn’t it? To be seen, to have some ounce of glamour and fame. Why?

But that’s not the point of this post. The point is, the Lord is faithful. Before outreach, I was still drowning from miles and years of unprocessed emotions burying me under my own glitter and celophame memories of euphoria sought out to cover up those tears. I called it “joy in the Lord.” No. I was simply running. Yet when my feet landed in India, He caught me. I had to process the events in my life I had simply left, having explored to a point, then fled from. When you’re bent over on a tiny toilet in a third world country with a bucket in your hands and barely any strength to move back to your sleeping bag, there’s not much else to do but think and pray. So I did. And I met His faithfulness and love in a way I had never before. I saw Him there, waiting, letting me play it out and run and run and cling to my youth and freedom until I was ready to sit and dig into the realities of my cousin’s suicide, of my own social anxieties.

And now I’m home, and certain inevitable things remain. Life is still hectic and busy. The dark forces of this earth are still fighting against all my family has ever lived for, all I ever want to live for. I still live in the midst of an intense spiritual battlefield. But now, I’m choosing it, knowing the cost and knowing how it will end. Because my God is faithful, and He will carry us, His children, through. He will tend us as a Shepherd, because He is God, and He comes with power.

I’ve watched so many now run from this, or fight in an attempt to water it down, make it more Instagrammable. But that’s not the life we were called to, ohana. We were called to a life of war, as well as a life of intense joy. And loves, that’s the life I choose.

Return to the East

Silver twigs
Reminding me of where we’ve been
Wrap around my finger
The spot where yours likes to linger

Crystal sits atop
Remnant of Limberlost
“Cut by God to delicate strength and beauty”
Picked because it reminds you of me

Gently you whisper in my ear
As you pull me so desperately near
I am all you hold dear
Together we’ll conquer my every fear

The future is dawning
I can taste her coming
Like coffee in the morning
As sunshine breaks through and you call me “darling.”