do you love me?
do you love the way you created me?
what are you going to show me in marriage?
do my actions or my words make you cry?
do you cry?
how can i love you better?
why did you save me?
why did you make us, knowing we would reject you?
will i ever be able to rest?
why do i not trust you?

you are a sweet, sweet song.


a new challenge

when i was in Brookyln back in october,
i wandered into this bookstore right on the waterfront.
i picked up this book called "Raskols"
it is a photo journalism project by Stephen Dupont.
He lived in the slums among the gangsters of Papua New Guinea
...and he captured these worn and torn faces,
and in my opnion he did a beautiful job.

here is a little bit of his work:

i'm in a photography class this semester, 
and my focus is portrait photography.
i want to be able to capture 
the divinity that is reflected in the human face.
this skill takes much humility of the photographer
and much trust of the subject,
because within a powerful portrait...
a story is revealed.
the relationship between photographer and subject
is very intimate.

just some food for thought,


do not forfeit grace.


change is good.

some people really struggle with change.
they respond to change
as if if they do not know how to react
as if change is the very thing
that is the tearing of their souls,

but me.
i think i itch for it.

there is this antithesis that
is swept in with the autumn season

that i quietly thrive in.

because in the fall

i crave for the familiar: haunted with nostalgia

but i also am
overwhelmed in the
that surrounds me

and i badly want to create
and restlessly i try to write papers
but deeply desire to be exploring,
to be breathing in the new air
new dreams,
 stirring in my expectant mind

the vibrant colors
and the shedding of the old skin

it is so drastic
it is fascinating
and incredibly aggressive
it is so provoking.

i breathe in
my lungs
my eyes wide
all is dead

transitioned into a season of
and thick socks.

a heap of
and loss

i'm left cuddled under piles of quilts
and knitted blankets
with my hands clasped tightly around mugs
filled with cider or soup

to reflect
to slow down

no other season can display the
magnitude of change
does just that.

let us not write off the intensity of the season.

why don't we live more in it.
and capture the emotion of it.

"In the Harvest 
feast or
the fallow
my certain hope is in 
JESUS found.
my lot
my cup
my portion 
whatever comes
we shall endure."
- sandra.

...dang i must admit i coveted her boots.

each encounter with change 

i find myself dancing with challenge
but when i am pulled in closest,
grabbed at the waist.

i always realize it is wisdom

holding my hand
leading my next step.

i cannot deny 

there are those seasons of change
where  the dance seems more like a fight

but, somehow we stumble right back into step.

and there is growth.

i've never regretted dancing.


running back to self-restoration.

today it feels like fall.
pure autumn.
blue skies,
orange mountain,
my lungs are chilled

the season where life is made new
where the light changes the way we look at things

so i ran.
each breath in
was refreshment
and each breath out
was negative energy being


and i feel a like
each step i took
was bold.
each step
was stomping out

i was running a little closer

my potential.
who i am created to be.

i am not my fears.
i am filled with love.
a supernatural love.
one that allows me

i choose 
whether or not
can triumph over me.

i will not die to my fears
i'll die fighting.

isn't she lovely?

this is my running partner. 
lupe fiasco.

"That's how it's supposed to be: a butterfly
For the sake of rhyming let's just say "butterflyee"
The truth stings like Muhammad Ali
I tell 'em tell 'em don't homicide me
I just a little old hope with his back against the ropes"

&& that is what is beautiful today.


insomnia session one.

my journal is quickly running out of pages.
and i have this urge to paint, and well i do not know what.
i just know painting something
could very well do the kind of soothing
my soul is longing for.
i have two colors to paint with: blue and yellow
the blue is of a robin's egg, and the yellow of a dandelion.

i may just write instead. or read. or listen.

i have been overwhelmed lately by the
busy-ness of the world we live in.
the constant go, go , go.
our culture does not let us breathe.
or let us be content with where we are.
or with what we have.

i want to live slower.
i want to take time to capture the beauty and love
that is surrounding me.
and to be grateful.

i want to take more pictures.
i want to get my hands molding clay,
i want to breathe deeper,
and practice yoga.

...this is the season.
the season to slow down.
to savor.
to celebrate in the ordinary.
to go on a road trip.
to make a home.
to pray.
to create.
...to not worry.

i am going to try to sleep.
or read
or something

but before i go...

this song, is worth pausing your life for a second to
just listen. and let the music feel for you.
"same in any language" by. my morning jacket

i hope you enjoy this song as much as i do.
it takes me to a cozy place.