Unwavering, devout. Devoted. He honestly believed that nothing would shake that.
And you think that way your whole life. You believe that God is the focus, until he isn't. That the truths you've see your whole world through will never unroot, until they do. 

His life had been scrubbed free of any trace of God.
& when he tried finding Him again,
He was found tucked away in that spot designated for all the things you say you're gonna get rid of but just end up sitting in your closet for years instead.

"I dont know. But I think I'm ready now" he said.


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Riding in Cars with Boys


I am 17 again. Riding around in my 1987 Honda accord with a cobra head stick shift that makes me feel superior to most girls my age. The car is filled way over capacity. 7 guys to 1 girl. I am the center of my little world. everyone around me, just players in my story.
Who I was then to who I am now - black and white. A clear stark difference.
In a culture that drives you to focus on what the world is doing for you- I am often taken by the hand, looked in the eyes, and told to “Get over yourself”. Because I take. And I take more and I’m greedy and “how will this person benefit me?” Will they contribute to my happiness and my progression in this life? Which at times, isn't necessarily a bad thing to question. But the problem comes when I’m not able to see what part I play in others lives. What good and what bad I bring to the table.
Its taken most of my life to hear the sacred sound of the roles I myself play for those around me. I am a hundred different things to a hundred different people.
To my new roommate, I am a different perspective on the mundane. To my nieces, I am the dance party. To him I’m she who planted doubt in his creator, who “took all that’s good away”. To the man who continually comes to yoga everyday despite having seen no improvements, I am just a familiar but distant face in his story. To my mom, someone to talk with when the “empty nesters” phase seems too quiet. To my boss, I am the face that greets him with a “Morning, how are you?” only to receive the same answer everyday “I are, how are you?” To my church family, I am the first to be vulnerable. To my best friends, I am the last of the college group to carry the torch of “there is no way I’m getting married first”. To my sisters, a body to walk with and help recognize the growth taking place even in this heart wrenching world.
I am the listener. I am the complainer. I am the “lazy son of a” who doesn't want to do her dishes. I am the habitually bad eater. I am one of those chakras. I am the meditator. I am the believer. I am the organized with mostly a lot of sloppy. I am the ever moving. I am the ever grounded. I am holy.
Who I am to you against who I am to her. I feel myself transform into these different roles multiple times a day. Exhausting & exhilarating I step back & with a full heart I understand why we were made this way. Gratitude swells.
I am now 23 again. Sitting in the back seat of a 2013 Honda Accord. Listening to the boys talk about the nick name they gave to the latest girl floating around the apartment- “Blue Dress” they call her. My eyes are closed. I am present. & right now I don’t find myself to be anything in particular, I just am. This too is holy.
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"It's lonely in here, with no sound except the echoing of my own voice inside my head. Telling me to keep going, to rise above, to let it go. Making deals with God and pleading to know why. Why has this played out in such a way that leads me to this busy and bustling, yet incredibly lonely, road. It's so loud I want to scream, and there is no one around to calm me down.

"It's just you and me again I guess," I say to God, "the way it ends every time." 

"Exactly the way it is meant to be," he whispers back. "Keep reading, take it a page at a time. This book gets so good."  - Danica Rugg
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This is not my house.
These are not the works of my own hands.
I take no credit no praise no adoration no glory.
It is He who built this life. He who offers the protection and comfort that my soul so craves.
The hands that offer undying support.
I stand in awe at what I have struggled to finally accept.

That this is not my house, my life.
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Anything that can make me stop and think as much as this quote has is worth painting on a canvas and keeping around. 
I am grateful for my God who has taught me compassion and connection. 
And who continues to push the boundaries of the view I have of Him, of Her, of this life, and of this universe.  

How do you perceive God?


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tea

& on the worst weeks
I wholeheartedly believe
that if you take 2 hours out of your Saturday
& have tea at the Grand America with your best girls,
complete with rasberry jam and chocolate pastry goodness-
when you step back into the line of fire
nothing is as bad as it seemed before.

tea parties
& scones
& fancy hats
cure most ailments in life.
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