The same fluffy white duvet with the occasional coffee or avocado stain, the same watercolored Dumbledore and C.S. Lewis quotes on the wall, the same white curtains, the same gray bookshelf littered with books and candles and pens and picture frames—just the way I like it. So much is changing, so I’m clinging to as much consistency as I can.Read More
Living a life of hope & wholeness and sometimes writing about it.
Filtering by Tag: Elizabeth Moore
Two nights ago, I sat down to write and nothing came out.
It was very frustrating. The writing had a deadline, but the words and ideas said "nope."
The setting was so perfect! A cozy fire, a snuggly living room, a cup of hot tea, no boys in the house, and even a cuddly dog! Nothing says, "Come write in my environment of perfection" like that scenario, you know?
But no. Something was off, and I couldn't do it.
Something in my spirit was halting me, holding me back, and it wasn't just writer's block. I had all the drive, all the momentum, every desire to write beautiful words in front of this beautiful fireplace, and then post a beautiful Instagram and make a beautiful name for myself. And my spirit said no.
Not this way.Read More
I could hide nothing. I was exposed, clutching my shame, my wounds, and my unforgivableness. I told her everything. Our conversation, the shame that it uncovered, and the guilt that I feel obligated to carry around.
She saw my issue: unbelief. She saw that I struggled to forgive myself and believe that Christ has made me His own. I struggled to believe that He’s forgiven me and that I am forgivable.
So she asked me a simple question:
“What does the Lord want to say to you in the morning?”Read More
I'll be honest about this part of life. It doesn't make any sense. Maybe for some people it does. But for me, each application feels like a rejection and each step forward seems to be followed by three stumbles back. I feel less in control of the plan, and I don't like that. Actually, I hate it. Those hazy shadows in the fog taunt me with their mystery. My concentrated stares to determine the identity of those shadows only ends in confusion and frustration. No answers. No answers yet. At least not while I'm standing far away, apprehending the unknown from a distance.Read More
A couple weekends ago, I visited Birmingham with a friend of mine--we'll call her Trail Runner. Trail Runner is one of those naturally outdoorsy people who grew up with a state park at her back door and a kayak strapped to the family car. Trail Runner and I couldn't be more different, but on a sidewalk in November, we decided to start road tripping together.Read More
How is it that forming good habits is mentally exhausting, while bad habits form while we're not even trying? I hate to admit it, but I've become a pathetic creature of degenerate habits lately.Read More
My first poem. Inspired by this quote:
You don't peel away the layers of an onion to reveal an eventual core of onion-ness. The layers themselves are the onion. -Unknown