Monastery Stays

Liked this article... will definitely have to look into this option the next time I go to Europe.

Praise You In This Storm

I was at the church I grew up in this morning for the first time in a long while, because my brother had asked me to attend. He is now on staff at the church as their worship pastor, but a worship band that he is a part of from his bible college was playing at the church this morning, and T. had asked several times if I would attend.

One of the girls on the worship band sang this song, and oh, it caught at me.

My heart is tender and broken today, wrestling with many things seen and heard, and as she sang, just for a few moments, Jesus drew near.

So needed in the midst of a very hard day.

Hard Sunday

This has been "one of those days."

I'm going grocery shopping in a few minutes. I need to get out of the house and forget for a bit.

I'm haunted by a pair of eyes I saw recently. Not in a good way.

I'm amazed by how much the embrace of a child can soothe and heal.

I'm craving chocolate.

I want cookies, without the work of making cookies.

I'm wondering where I "fit" in the world, and how long it will be until I find that place? Shouldn't I have that place already at 25?

I went to church this morning for the first time in a while.

I'm caught by a song the guest musicians sang, "Praise You in this Storm."

I'm thinking about blood and water and life and death and birth.

And now I'm going grocery shopping for a while.

Article Worth Reading

I received a link to this article in an email from 24-7 Prayer this morning, and was captivated by it. I wasn't surprised, either, when a friend also posted a link to it on facebook, and other friends responded.

Not Knowing What to Say

There are a number of things in my life right now that are frustrating me.

Things that are up in the air.

Things that are confused or damaged.

Things where I just can't find the words to know what to say.

Things where every response seems equally bad.

I'm thinking about mountains and coastlines. About waves and islands and standing on walls. I'm thinking about energy and exhaustion. About roses. About eyes that see and ears that hear, and hearts that understand. About relationships and loneliness, and the things that underscore the loneliness. About the longing for family, and a place to call home. About how different my life is today than what I would have predicted a year ago. About definitions of joy and hope and peace. About Isaac (whose name means laughter) laying bound on an altar, trusting his father, who was also trusting, that a ram would be provided. About Hannah, weeping in deep anguish, crying bitterly, in such distress that she was accused of being drunk. About waiting for her prayer to be answered, and then offering the answer to that prayer back to the Lord for his service. About the line of scripture that speaks of weeping that endures for a night and joy coming in the morning. I'm thinking about the morning not so very long ago when I woke suddenly, startled by some unheard voice, and the words that rolled instinctually from my lips, were those of Hannah's son, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening."

My heart is restless.

I lay with Isaac and wait for the ram.
I weep with Hannah, and wait for morning, crying bitterly.
And I say again with Samuel, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening."

And I pray for the process of birthing. For a birth that is smooth, and happens quickly, and is filled with health.

When a woman gives birth, she has a hard time, there's no getting around it. But when the baby is born, there is joy in the birth. This new life in the world wipes out memory of the pain. The sadness you have right now is similar to that pain, but the coming joy is also similar. When I see you again, you'll be full of joy, and it will be a joy no one can rob from you. You'll no longer be so full of questions. (John 16:21-23, The Message)