- Listening to this and this on repeat.
- Seeing how beautiful Ottawa is in the winter is making me fall more in love with this city.
- Reading None Like Him by Jen Wilkin. I highly recommend grabbing a copy of this book. It will bring you to your knees in worshipful surrender.
- Learning that community is intentional and messy and wild and frustrating and confusing and beautiful and loving and encouraging and different and necessary.
- Wanting to get my Ontario Driving License so that I can go on long drives.
- Following this cool profile on IG.
- Thinking through how to go about getting counseling. It's time to follow in the courageous footsteps of some of the people I know and get much needed help unpacking some of my thoughts, feelings and experiences.
- Feeling tired but not weary. 'Tis sweet to know the difference as I prepare to continue in full time Christian ministry.
- Loving the fact that I'm doing this blogging thing again.
- Looking forward to Spring and Summer in Ottawa!
It's an interesting thing when the lies you wrestle with are spoken in your own voice.
" You know you're ugly, right? "
"He would never like a girl with short hair. You look like a man."
" You think your mum paid all this money for you to come to Canada to be a missionary? "
It's like punching yourself in the face over
and over again.
And watching confidence bleed out like blood flowing from a self - inflicted wound.
And letting these lies somehow become my truth -
Wearing them like a shield and using them like cement to build up the walls around my heart even as the wounds I'd inflicted continued to bleed and scab and bleed and scab and grow.
Soon I forgot what it meant to walk with confidence.
I would walk down the street with my head hanging so low, I could taste the ground.
And try to reach for confidence deep inside myself but it's hard to re-fill from a cup that is empty enough to form cracks at the bottom -
And try to find my confidence in what other people thought of me, but human beings were not made to carry that kind of weight.
Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest
But I insisted on carrying this yoke on my own.
After all, shouldn't I be strong enough? Brave enough? Christian enough?
So I existed in this space of speaking and teaching Truth but not believing Truth for myself.
Do you know what that feels like?
Like there's a black hole where your heart used to be and joy and laughter and authenticity and all things good are slowly being sucked into it. And I became a shell of what I was created to be.
And in the midst of that, His voice spoke - strongly, softly.
I AM sufficient.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul.
Grounding me. Holding me. Stabilizing me. Breathing new life into weary bones.
Let the weary rise
Lift their eyes to see
Your love crushing every lie
Every doubt and fear
And Truth was spoken - words that I'd forgotten how to believe.
Awake my soul to sing
With Your breath in me
I will worship
You taught my feet to dance upon disappointment
And I will worship
And today, again, truth is spoken to pierce past the lies - to teach the beauty of resting in the goodness of my Abba - anchoring myself not in humanity and things that may change but learning to anchor my life on what is eternal.
I've forgotten what my voice sounds like.
There is a need to remember - to re-learn.
4 years -
Of friendship. Of laughter.
Of shared thoughts and deeper conversations.
Of being the first man that showed me that not all men were like my father;
That there was freedom in openness and courage in vulnerability.
3 years -
Of feeling my heart skip a beat when you smiled at me; eyes filled with equal parts mischief, equal parts depth.
Of pushing back every time I felt you come close and hiding fear beneath a mask of humor and sarcasm.
Of being friends and wanting more..
2 years -
Of wrestling through feelings of inadequacy and "not good enough"
Of hiding bruised hearts behind shields of intentional distance and "He's like a brother to me"
1 year -
Of learning to let go of you.