God, i guess i'm here.

i’m here.

at the two weeks plus six days mark. (that sounds so much more weird than three weeks minus one day).

i'm here.

and i'm just hit with how i haven't actually always been here.

yeah, I've never been in this position of being this close to leaving for this new place before, but it’s more than that. i haven't always been present where i am.

i may be physically present, and i may even be focused on engaging with what is within my present.

but this i now see: i haven't always engaged with my whole heart as I’ve needed to do.

i can see my little self dancing around the kitchen floor in a northwestern minnesoatan direction, free & full, beaming joy, and coating the room in yellow that is invisible to the eye - a yellow that smells like the sun and feels like it’s silken rays.

i can see my adolescent self step into the school room and not realize the things that would start to step out of her through her years within those school walls.

i can see myself fumble into teenage-hood and fumble into tears, into pain, into questions.

i can see myself start to grow up and learn things that i guess growing up requires us to learn — or at least requires us to face and to choose if we will do the learning from the seeing, feeling, and knowing.

i see me.

i see me and see so much that i wish little me would have chosen to believe, would have chosen to focus on, would have chosen to hold on to, would have chosen to pursue.

yet i see that little me was so concerned with these very things: concerned with doing it right and seeing right and being right and not wasting life.

i see me.
and i see how unnecessarily complicated me has liked to make things.

yet i see not just the failings but the days dripping with the very essence of good itself -- days of dancing in the kitchen, running barefooted, doodling in the margins, ribstiking in the living room, and singing louder than my family wished i would.

i see life.

and maybe, as i sit here two weeks plus six days away, i’m a little afraid. uneasy. unsure.

because I don’t know exactly what living means.

is there one right way to live?
what does it mean to make the most out of my life?
how can i figure that out?
how do i find the strength to do it once i know?

I've been battling these questions in this microcosmic time where growth is seemingly exponential — which is glorious, but piercingly so.

and i can’t even explain the things the Lord is laying on my heart.
and i might be coming across as an obsessively introspective young person who just needs to get a grip.
and i might not be making as much of sense as i wish i could.

but i refuse to let that stop me, anymore.
but i refuse to not humble myself and share.
but i refuse to not let each word i type to be dripping with candor no matter how inadequate i may think the words to be.

because this living, though.

He’s drawing me to it and letting me ask questions:

what does it look like to learn to be happy every single day?
what kind of letting go does that mean?
and what kind of holding on to does that require instead?

i won't understate the importance of figuring such things out. i just wont' because having purpose and direction is what will set us on fire and create unstoppable forces.

((and it’s a glorious thing when we realize the deepest happiness is found in losing ourselves in delight of the King and following everything that means)).

i'm learning that this living means I'm needing to pour into that relationship with Him— to pour with trust and abandon to come alive on a new level.

it’s been a humbling summer. a stretching one. and now an intensely reflecting and processing one ((something that I have not been wanting to do)).

and i'm here in it -
in the middle of living while trying to find out what this living means.

i want to share with you the journey of finding life.

for this i am already seeing about living: life is meant to be shared.

so, i refuse to not share anyone.
i choose life, and i challenge you to do the same.

this “choosing life” may come in many different forms for you, but i challenge you to seek the Lord about it and ask Him to take you to a level even deeper of sold-out life for Him.

and i make it my aim to share my journey with you on this blog as we begin journeying together: together into life (and that life full).

<< "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." >> ((Jn. 10:10).

We fail.  We choose badly, but we have grace because of our Lord. He has grace for our selfishness, for our wasted moments, and for our outbursts of anger.

Truth is: He knows that we are going to fail, sees the frailness of our humanness, and yet has chosen to love us and call us His children, anyway (John 3:16; 1 John 3:1).

In a world born and raised on grace, we shouldn't lose sight of the power of it.

This grace comes from the Maker of the stars (Genesis 1:16), the Author of the universe (Colossians 1:16), the Lord of lords (Revelation 19:16).

This grace is there every time, no matter how many times we fall into it.

So why not make that of life?

Make it full of falls into His grace, into His love, and into His truth instead of into our own confusion, condemnation, and anger.  

2. Choose to make.

 "Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children” (Ephesians 5:1).

​What did He make of life?
​life​ for us, too, will so often be what we make of it.

So why not make it a time …

• to choose to see the good in situations and in people?
• to choose to focus on the lessons we are learning instead of counting the mistakes we are making?
• to fall into His grace and accept His love?  
• to live making the most of our time: to throw ourselves into delighting in our savior and following His lead in each moment?​

Life for us, too, will so often be what we make of it.

We, as Christians, are called to be difference makers.  We’re called to model our life after Christ’s (1 Cor. 11:1), and He made the ultimate difference for us; He died on the Christ so that we might have eternal life (Jn. 3:16).

• Go make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:19).

• Turn from our selfishness, pick up our cross, and follow the King of Kings (Luke 9:23).

• Love one another, even to the point of laying our lives down for our friends (Jn. 15:12-13).

We are called to be difference makers.
Why then do we so often not make a difference?


We often don’t step out and make a difference because we are holding on to something: discouragement. 

Holding on to this prohibits us from grabbing on to God’s hand as we step out in His plan for us to make a difference.

We need to hold on to hope that we can make a difference, for we can do all things through Christ (Phil. 4:13).

If God is calling us to act, do we not trust that He will provide all we need to do these actions?  Can we not simply be faithful to the call of difference making and trust the results  (whether we deem them “big” or “small”) to Him?

We must boldly hold on to His promises of comfort, strength, and provision as we are faithful to obey the call to be Kingdom difference makers.

3. You're part of a big family.

Maybe this is actually a good thing.

Yes, we’re small, but our God is big; He’s put us in a global family of brothers and sisters in Christ.

Together, our small existence adds up to a bigger whole.  Our “small” actions of difference making add up to a world that is collectively being impacted.

Don't give up.

You can make a difference, and the thing is: you’re actually called to do so.

You’ve been put in this place and time on purpose (Acts 17:26).  Hold onto the hope in Christ and lose yourself in faithful obedience to His call.  Together, as family, we are impacting the world.

I just pulled Instagram up on my phone and was going to start scrolling.