This is your life, babe.

Hello world. 

I have quite literally (although temporarily) abandoned the internet and this blog, but hello, I'm back.

I haven't abandoned writing. Don't think for a second that if I'm not blogging or publishing words that I'm not writing. I'm writing. Sometimes for myself, sometimes for a few close friends, sometimes for the inklings of a future book, sometimes to grieve and process properly. 

Writing words isn't the problem. It's the publicizing of the words that's fallen to the wayside. And that's okay for now. 

Yes, I jumped in here during Easter Week and cranked out words every day. That was amazing and so fun. But these past several months have been full of one change after another, one adjustment after another, one more move, one more client, one more side hustle, one more trip, one more friend (these are all good things). 

Know that in this slow process of adjusting and developing my life, the posting of the words will happen again. Hopefully soon! And hopefully with structure and consistency. 

But, right now, I'm making sure the big rocks of life are in place first. And let me tell you, assessing one's rocks (aka priorities) will open your eyes to all the things. This summer is shaping up to be one lesson after another in discipline, contentment, and trust.

Wow. I could write entire blogs about all three of those mamma-jammas. Actually...I think I will (stay tuned). 

But for now, just know that writing is happening, life is happening, and the Lord is taking such good and gentle care of me. 

So much is changing—so much of my life is evolving into something beautiful. It’s hard to see the beauty at first because the moments just look like scrambled eggs and coffee and working at Pine Cove and driving to the Foundry and going to Fresh way too much and realizing that even though some days feel like an eternity, time is actually passing. 

This adjustment to Texas and singleness and 2017 has been bumpier than I anticipated. When I moved into a new apartment in April, I thought I'd go from grieving to healed, anxious to peaceful, broken-person to whole-person. I wanted this summer to mean no more grief, no more anxiety, no more confusion.

I was so ready to jump straight from one season and into the next, so fixated on being “healed” or “not healed,” on being “ready” or “not ready” for this and that. And I’m learning that it’s not about being in or out, healed or broken, ready or not ready. Life doesn't play by these rules, and seasons of growth aren't that easily separated.

I thirst for arrival and perfection and readiness, but I think the Lord is just saying, “This is your life, babe. It’s going to be messy. My sanctifying work isn't complete yet but it will be. Just breathe and fall on me. Trust me with today." 

Why do expect myself to always follow Jesus well? I will not. And the humbling reality of this sometimes cripples me. Many days I’m weak and confused and begging the God who reveals mysteries to give me wisdom and breakthrough and peace in my panic. It's very frustrating and uncomfortable at times.

But I follow a God who finishes what He started. Tetelestai. Oh, what is mankind that He is mindful of us? And yet, His steadfast love endures forever. He's chosen us. He's come to us. Emmanuel. This brings me to my knees.

So I’m desperate for the grace to not have it all figured out. I’m celebrating growth, but I’m not yet grown.

There are times when it feels like too much. I see my weakness all out in front of me, and just, there it is. I want to be disgusted, discouraged, appalled at how confusing and messy my Christian soul is.

But dude, I’m only 24, and apparently that’s still really young. Even though I want to be a sage and always have the answers and always make the healthy decisions, my humanity still fogs up the glass when I just want to see clearly.

And yet, even this is okay. Even now, Jesus doesn't forget me, doesn't give up on me, and that is what matters: Him, His character, His hope, His love. 

So right now, I’m wrestling with life and how I’m not escaping its messiness. I’m wrestling with sanctification and how it’s the kindness of the Lord to continuously break me, over and over and over, and promise no ending point until I see His face. But I’m to press on, one day at a time, fully engaged where I am because it's good.

Right now, I have a day. One day at a time. And the sooner I let go of the expectation of arrival and get acquainted with messiness and mystery, weakness and grace, the more satisfied and full my soul will become.