Sometimes I wonder if it's some kind of cruel joke.
To have the one thing you love to be just out of grasp.
What is it that God is really doing or saying?
And all I can do is give in and let it happen.
I don't understand.
But I would never fight it.


I have had a lot of time to think.
A lot of things to look back on.
Seeing all the little things I never noticed before that brought me here.
Life has a funny way of working out.
I'm not mad about mine.
It's been messy but the best things seem to make it worth it.


I was thinking the other day about moments with God.
I was remembering being young, experiencing things with this freshness in my lungs, sitting next to the people that first made me appreciate friendship, and we would just talk about God.
We would wake up early to sip coffee and read together.
7am in the corner chairs fascinated by this intimacy with Jesus thing.
Intentional looked different back then.
A "God moment" was so separated from the rest of life.
Sometimes I sit and speak with God wondering if my relationship has become more disappointing to Him over the years.
I don't do the things the way I use to.
But maybe, as you grow older, the line between a "God moment" and just a "life moment" starts to blur.
Every moment becomes filled with Him.
The conversations go on like any normal day.
We use to have to try and talk to Him but now we are just with Him and He with us.
I don't feel that separation anymore.

I am in no way perfect.
Unless perfectly unkempt is the same type of perfection.
I feel challenged more than I ever feel comfortable.
As far as I have come, I only yearn to go further still.


These past months have been draining.
Sucking the very life from me.
Confusing me to every degree.
Yet, in this moment, in the past couple weeks, I have felt more myself than I have ever been.
I am discovering the reality of me.
And, I do not know if its more thrilling or petrifying, but I know there is so much more to unearth within me.
I have those days where I hate myself.
But when I sit and take a breath; when I am surrounded by cliffs, the ocean, and that salty breeze - I love it. I love myself. I love my life. I love every piece that has made this mine.

The Game Worth Losing

Our generation has an expectation placed on us from the generation before.
Or maybe its from living in a time of dreams and entrepreneurship.
An expectation that we have to "be something" within a certain timeframe.
And when we fail to meet these expectations within that certain period of time, we struggle with our identity.
We think that we will always be stuck within the confines of our generational curses, of never living our dreams, or of never amounting to anything.

The biggest ploy of the enemy of our time is that of comparison.
We give up before we have even experienced the totality of growing up and living.
Our self-worth begins to look like just getting by instead of blazing a new trail for our future and the generations to come from within us.

This comparison game - this withdrawal too early in the game - beats us down into discouragement and defeat.
Beats us bloody until we choke on it.
Then we hit those moments.
Those moments where we ask ourselves, "Do I sit in this murky puddle of my blood, broken dreams, shattered spirit, and every memory of how I once again failed to meet this standard. This standard that I'm not sure where it came from in the first place? Or do I somehow keep fighting, daring to believe just one more time that maybe, someday, I might actually like the person staring back at me?"

We were made to be a winner... even though most often we don't even feel like one.

We enter these games
and every fiber of our being says WIN
but maybe the game of comparison is one match worth LOSING.
Because winning means it proved us right the whole time but losing says, "I don't want to play this silly game any longer."