"Mary Anne Radmacher (via artemisdreaming)
she shed her skin,
she bled on the pages of her days,
she walked through walls,
she lived with intention.
There are days or weeks or even months when I read the Bible and there are no grand epiphanies.
There are whole seasons of Sundays when I sing praise and feel nothing.
There are times of prayer where the silence kills me.
There are great Christian books and podcasts that I eat up which don’t budge my spiritual life.
There are too many times when I doubt the very existence of God and the sending of His Son. It can all feel like a crazy lie.
I’m probably being too honest — but I’ve found that I’m not the only one who feels this way.
It’s in those times that I ask myself, “Am I out of love with God somehow? Am I losing my faith here? How do I get back to where I used to be?”
But I keep reading my Bible. I keep singing on Sundays. I keep praying. I soak in books and sermons. I serve. I enjoy the company of mature Christians. I enjoy the fellowship of the broken.
And you know what? Sometimes the clouds part and God comes through and His love squeezes my heart and I fall to my knees remembering how good He is. Then I read Scripture and can’t stop weeping and I turn on Christian songs in my car full blast and sing loud enough to scare the traffic. I serve with shaking hands and get convicted by those sermons and soak in God’s goodness all over again.
So I’ve learned over time: I wasn’t really out of love with God. I’m just a fragile human being who changes as much as the weather. I was setting a ridiculous standard for myself that can’t be defined by self-pressuring parameters. I was tricked by the enemy into judging my flesh. My faith is based on His grace and not my feelings. And I think I need to relax."
Tears in my eyes
dancing was installed into me ever since i can remember. music/artistry has been passed down generation to generation on my mother’s side of the family. i began dance classes when i was 3 years old and started dancing in a company in first grade. i pray that i will never forget my art or give up on it. yet, i pray that i will do what i can to make it flourish. to not grow stagnant, but yet to grow in it. for some reason there is this silly myth that you once you hit college, your dance career is over. because it was your “hobby.” if you fully became a dancer you will understand that it was never a hobby. it was the story inside of you screaming to get out. the movement in your veins and the pulse ready to explode. one of my teachers always said, “you don’t move to the music… you let the music move you.” dancing is all about becoming the living instrument, another piece of the band. it’s poetry in motion. it’s what music looks like when it comes alive. breathing and moving. being painted out, storytelling. and what i love about coming home to edmond is that i am given an environment where my art is encouraged. we have always had large speakers in our living room and there has never been a day go by where music is not bumping out of those speakers. i am thankful that at 11 pm my parents don’t care that i turn up the volume, turn off the lights, and dance where the hardwood floors allows me to (and doesn’t allow it to, you can’t constrain movement- for it is always growing and reaching.) you have to create an opportunity and environment for art to flourish. it’s simple logic but this was even brought to light in my early childhood ed courses (for creative expression in the classroom.) so here i am, 2:39 am and just got finished dancing. it feel so damn good to move. so i will grow in it. no matter if i am 30 or 54, i pray that i am willing and able to place myself in sync with the rhythm and let it take control.
"I want to keep my soul fertile for the changes, so things keep being born in me, so things keep dying when it is time for things to die. I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made to figure things out, not to read the same page recurrently."
Donald miller | Through Painted Deserts
|| I highly recommend this book!
"I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing – their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling – their inner lives. They speak subjectively, they argue less, there are longer pauses. To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights – then I start thinking about projects, deadlines, demands, and the shadows and shapes of the house become objects, not suggestions, things that need to done, not a background to thought."Jeanette Winterson, Why I adore the night