in a Tuesday wishing for a Friday

My alarm goes off at six in the morning.

I want to believe that there is still a sense of wonder within me. But I am always taking life seventeen steps at a time. I invite exhaustion and I welcome stress and – I ask: Is there a better way? The answer, always, a resounding YES. My response? Always a roll of the eyes.

I want to know that somewhere inside me, there’s an excited impulse to take every moment with both hands. Some mornings it’s there and I’m awake at 5AM – and I am calm. But more often, I find myself hiding from the morning: pulling blankets closer and pressing snooze over and over.

It’s these days that always get me. The unwanted moments, constantly cascading. And I am supposed to enjoy this?

On a sunny day, I’m smiling. Wrapped up in warmth, I’m calm. And all the other moments? It’s gum wrappers and tea left in mugs, orange peels and half-written essays on notebook paper. It’s a pile of clothes on the floor and walking into work late. It’s texts sent in the middle of class. It’s shoes untied. It’s assigned reading half-read and gas tank on empty. It’s sketchbooks left at home and sink full of dishes.

I think about being in high school and wanting to be here. I think about being here and wanting to have graduated. Where does it all stop? We’re in a Tuesday wishing for a Friday – for what?

Wanting only one out of the seven isn’t cutting it for me.

They say the bad days are inevitable but it’s like … are you sure? I’m probably always going to push back against that. Maybe it is impossible for every day to be good, but I just feel like waking up every morning believing in that impossibility is going to leave me with more bad days than necessary. A lot of it is out of my hands, but so much more than I realize depends on choice and perspective and noticing. And that’s what I’ve been thinking about this past month – how good the days are when I let them be. When I let them be.

Whenever I catch myself in those moments when everything I have to do is unwanted and I’m asking is there a better way, I know – I know! – there is. And it’s always a matter of opening mind and heart.

I believe so strongly that it’s the choosing that makes the day. It’s crazy how natural it is for me to choose to be annoyed and stressed out; it’s crazy how hard it is for me to choose joy and fullness. Even when it’s as simple as that. There are still so many mornings when I don’t, but I’m trying to choose to see the wonder. I want to look into the morning sky and choose to see the beautiful moments I have. I want to choose to take time slowly and make the day – every day – a sincere thanks for grace, for time, for peace…for it all. •

January Credits:
+ Journeywomen Ep. 01 "Forgiveness with Carrie Langemeier"
+ On Being: "Isabel Wilkerson – The Heart Is the Last Frontier"
++ "Christian Wiman – How Does One Remember God?"
++ "Ellen Langer – Science of Mindlessness and Mindfulness"
++ "Atul Gawande – What Matters in the End"
++ "Joan Halifax – Buoyancy Rather than Burnout in Our Lives"
++ "Arnold Eisen – The Opposite of Good is Indifference"
++ "John O'Donohue – The Inner Landscape of Beauty"
++ "Brené Brown – Strong Back, Soft Front, Wild Heart"
+ Girl's Night #14: "How to know God's Will For Your Life"
++ #13: "Overcoming Discouragement in the Pursuit of your Dreams"
+ what the eff episode 11: "Priming!"
+ @biblesandcoffee on instagram
+ One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp
+ Starbucks iced coffee (always & forever)
+ "i have tried loving less but that hurts just the same"Gemma Troy

Twenty-Eighteen & Moments

I took a step away from writing here.

It really has been years since I was “a blogger” in any qualifiable way, but I officially resolved that it was time to let it go as this past summer slipped gently into fall. I was preparing for my busiest semester to date and I felt like I had nothing to say. My heart was bursting but I just couldn’t write.

Ever since I stopped a few years ago, I’ve been waiting for the right moment to start writing again.

For the longest time, I thought I would have this Moment where the light would shine down on me, the answers would be in my hands, the words would be written, and I would be There. I’d been waiting for that moment.

But life doesn’t happen like that. There is no light. There are no answers. And you have to write it yourself.

I’ve realized that I’m never going to arrive at the place I want to be without sort of stumbling around in the dark at first; you can’t be truly honest without vulnerability.

So here I am, writing. 

It’s going to be messy and sound like scribbled notes in the margins. Sometimes it’s going to sound like tears. But I’ll commit to shrug away fear and insecurity in order to make room for honesty. I simply want to write again, even if this isn’t the Moment – because it’s been years & I have lots to say.