the night

there’s something about the ocean at night. the ghostly waves. the stars. the quiet. it’s something akin to a blanket of snow under a moonlit night. wind in the branches. the cold silence. there’s a strange, uncomfortable beauty to it.
it’s hard being afraid of the night when you’ve survived some of the worst things this life has to offer. you embrace it. you walk fearlessly forward, no longer looking over your shoulder. because – really – what is there to be afraid of anymore? what else could possibly hurt you more than what you’ve already lived through?

i think i prefer the night. when dreams are easier to believe and you’re a little reckless with your thoughts.

“i have loved the stars too fondly

to be fearful of the night.”


what the mountains did to me


there’s something to be said about those “mountain top” experiences…

i wasn’t looking for any epiphanies or spiritual revelations, but there is truly something about going up there where the air is clear and all the noise is far behind you.  being aware that somewhere out there, people are still running about and watching the clock and clicking away…but you’re not. and you don’t have to.  it was a test against my will to not always have to be up and about; so worried that i’ll miss something or be alone for too long and hear my thoughts.

but for the first time in a long time, i had a chance to think clearly. the Spirit moved in me. it wasn’t a great profound spiritual truth i realized, but a shift in my heart. a straightening of my crooked perspective. i had nothing to do with it…as a matter of fact, all this time i’ve been in the way of it. and it was about time it happened.

i’ve been absolutely miserable for the past year and a half, thanks to my dry, sarcastic, super-cynical, over-analyzing, hardcore-realistic self.

also to consider is how completely and utterly distracted i’ve allowed myself to be.  i came up with every foreseeable excuse to not move forward. i misunderstood contentment. i lied to myself. i am ashamed with how easy it was to drop every passion and hope that i had and convince myself it was all unrealistic. it would never happen. even though it meant compromising my convictions and going against everything i had so earnestly believed in, even though i felt this terrible empty hole deep down inside myself…i still kept on.

it was any wonder i found myself collapsing in a fit of tears one night, sitting on my bathroom floor, in the dark, curled up in a corner, cowering.  depression had claimed me yet again. all the lies i was telling and believing about myself compiled into such an overwhelming and suffocating mass, that i was nearly taken…but praise be to God for the presence of a very dear friend that night. Lord, that is one of the most frightening things in the world.

and He did what He always does. He mends. come heartbreak, disappointment, frustration, pain, change…He always mends.

and so, little did i know what staying in a little cabin at the end of some long twisty path up a hill would teach me. as i sat there, listening to the rain fall on it’s metal roof; as we drove through the winding blue ridge roads; as i carefully waded through the base of a waterfall;  as i walked down a lush, mountain trail…i finally had a chance to hear the voice i had been ignoring for so long. for one reason or another, all my arguments seemed rather moot. there was nothing to hide behind or get distracted by. i couldn’t reach for it…it was all so far away.

“For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.” romans 1:20, nasb

His mountains. His sky. His creation. He’s always teaching me something through them.

and so, now returned to the valley, i’ve taken the steps forward. without question. without doubt. like i used to so easily. i don’t know what took me over the last year or so, but i think i left it back up there somewhere.


what are you waiting for?

fall into the sky

the sky mesmerizes me.

maybe i’m weird. i feel like i could stand and stare for hours, completely content with watching the clouds roll by or gazing at the stars under the cover of the moonlight. there’s something about sunsets, too…when the sky is red and on fire. you know what i’m talking about….words just can’t describe it.

there was a time when it had the completely opposite effect on me. i remember going out one evening to gaze at the stars. i felt myself shrinking underneath the canopy of space above me and was overwhelmed with a feeling of insignificance. i thought, who am i? what difference does my existence make? do i even matter?  i went inside and crumpled into a tearful ball on my bedroom floor. my past left me feeling so broken and used. i cried out to God, why me?! it’s not fair! i never asked for this!  i felt like the world was passing me by outside my window, and i was trapped here fighting a losing battle with the demons of my past.

instead of looking up at the night sky and seeing how majestic and incomprehensible and amazing God is, all i could think of was my limits and powerlessness. i had the same problem when it came to dealing with my past: instead of focusing on who God is, i was crippled mentally by the abuse and its effects.

but God’s word spoke a powerful truth to me then that I have not forgotten since. Isaiah 40 is an incredible picture of the majesty of God, and as i considered the struggles i was having, i asked myself, what is this to God?  my relationship with Him was profoundly impacted by this truth. i realized my “purpose” wasn’t a great mystery that i had to figure out…there is no greater level i have to attain, no greater act of service i have to strive for; no, the truth is this: “Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.”(1Corinthians 10:31, KJV)

now, as I look up into the sky, i find myself homesick. i wish that I could somehow fall into it, that beyond all the clouds and stars, i would end up in His embrace. oh, how i long for His eternal embrace…

but until then…


what draws you to Him?