It’s OK to breathe fast if you think you’re going to die.

It’s OK to be swallowed by fear before you remember that the end thereof is death. Even if you don’t remember.

It’s OK that you mucked up and if you could do it again you’d do it differently.

It’s OK that people don’t understand and you can’t change that.

It’s OK to not be able to see the next moment

It’s OK to have Shame even though it’s kind of embarrassing that It had more power than you realized. I still like you.

It’s OK to have a moment of weakness. It does not define the sum of your life.

I see this all over scripture from Adam to David to Peter

And I read in the book of Romans that nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ and if my heart really did not want that separation but my brain could not find another way through, I believe Jesus able of judging my heart.

As an SRA survivor, I had to do terrible things. And the cross of Christ was, is and shall always be enough to wash them all.

It’s okay that you loved but overwhelm made you forget love’s size for a moment.

I remember my day. I was five years into memory work. It was around Easter. I had gone to see my counselor and she had brought reason. If I hadn’t stayed alive, I wouldn’t have Tom my faithful husband. If I had died I would not have had four children I was able to help into life. I heard. It made sense. And when I got home I realized the rational was not enough. 

Jesus came into my living room that day. He stood. I knew it was he. I had run out of words. 

He started. 

Your husband is not enough. 

I shook my head even though I loved my husband. 

He continued. And your kids aren’t enough.

I started to cry because I knew rationally they should be.

An impasse emerged. What I knew was ‘right’ I could no longer do.

Gentle. He said. How about, if for a little while, you try staying alive for me?

It was a thought. A new thought. And a reason I needed.

I don’t know why he doesn’t do that for everyone. Heck. I don’t know why he did it for me. But I’m alive because of it. 

So in the un condemning place of ‘I know those feelings’ I can also say ‘his cross is enough to cover when I have done something irreversible’. 

There is a land of unlearning ahead, that makes a way for the understanding that follows to be beautiful. But on this side, it remains mystery.

praying for a friend tonight, that lost a loved one

During: The fog kisses the mountains and the song of 133 begins and overtakes the day with joy. I am convinced the unity of the brethren is somehow connected. The trees stomp and shout: Praise to God-who-is-water-and-life! The certainty of eternity is bolstered by creation, who knows and does not doubt. The rising of the sun declares futility but NOT WITHOUT HOPE. She remembers again. I’m invited in. What we do today with words we will one day do with light. Create. Rearrange. Align. I participate. With light song. With light dance. Changing and being changed, among some of my favorite mountains.

You are never the same coming out of the twisting winding roads of the mountains and woods as you are going into them. Ask for it. You’ll receive it.

Before: A teaching on intention by the Kurjatas that challenged my comfort zone. We are god-class beings. We are called to created with words. What if?

During: A court case in the heavens. I am designed for this. My interface is fulfilling. Stuff happens and gets done. The elder came along. the visibility of the invisible delights me. And I get to use my giftings. In ways some days don’t require. I rejoice.

After: Fire came. And met me. And said it is not the use but the user. And I have been afraid. Of part of my birthright. And thunder on earth manifests. And fire compels me to study. And starts with its’ relationship/interruption of time. Fire asks me to consider a different likeness to God than other elements. And I am stirred. My concordance is open. My Hebrew comes alive. And I am enthralled with a direction unexpected.

During: Poverty spirit there is no place for you. Assets you are highlighted and recognized. Unanswered questions about my biological father and mother are raised, with curiosity. Questions about the eyes of my heart, which I am learning to close and open, are invitational.

After: Lunches that are missing emotion and filled with pride/agenda/doing feel unsatisfying. And my purpose, what moves me, worship, becomes discontent to settle with reselling somebody elses…anything! And my metron, which is love, urges me to explore more.

During: Highlights of times when I am celebrated and invited to use my gifting bring me joy. Some have seen the deeper parts and welcome me. It is my fuel against those who have opinions and don’t have welcome, only opinions, I learn later.

During: My Father decides, on my anniversary, to dance with me. In the Spirit, in holiness and truth, among the mountains he prepared for the event. I am undone. and more madly in love.

This is my road trip. if you were me, wouldn’t you love them too?