one girl's journey to let go of the rulebook and embrace her already abundant life

Fed by Every Word (Brave Every Day)

In these days. In my listening days, He has been feeding me from His Word. The tried-and-true prose that fills my spiritual hunger. Words of His promises. His kindness. His grace. His care. His provision. His love. Oh, His love. That deep and wide love. The love that is a banner over me. The love that leads a prodigal home and a blind man to see. The love that makes an evangelist of a harlot and a preacher of a persecutor. And in these days. In my listening days, I store them up in my spirit. Least I forget… on my writing days. My talking days. My stormy days. My weak days. On these days they are no less true than today. All my days were written in your book before one of them came to be. (Psalm 139:16)...

Today is Shh (Brave Every Day)

Shh. It’s a quiet day for me. No writing. No posting. Listening. Dwelling. A checking in and making sure that along my current path I have not wandered out of the sound of His voice. There are words forming, yes. And soon they will come together in thoughts and posts. But not today. Today is Shh. My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.  And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. (John 10:27-28)...

Love Without End, Amen (Brave Every Day)...

Maybe I’m not a fan of standard mathematics because I prefer God’s version. Where 5 stones+1 boy=1 felled giant and 5 loaves+2 fish=more than 5000 fed and Grace>Sin Which is why I love Momastery Love Flash Mob days. Where lots of people each give a little money to make one humongous difference. And always for the purpose of spreading Love — especially to those who just haven’t gotten much of it in their lives to this point. I had been struggling to know what to write today. Struggling to express any intelligent feeling at all. So I’m going to borrow my brave from the midwives in Haiti today. And the mamas fighting for their babies. And the babies fighting for their next breath. And for all the love and dollars we can muster. (So go Flash Mob of Worth, please.) For all of us who need a reminder of our Unsurpassable Worth. Unsurpassable. Like infinity. Because Love divided always comes back multiplied. Always. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ In response to the 31 Day blogging challenge, I will be publishing EVERY DAY in October — reporting on ways I reach out to bravery in my everyday life. (See all posts to date HERE.) To be alerted to new posts, please follow me on Facebook orTwitter using the links...

In Fields of Grace (Brave Every Day)

One tiny step in front of another. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. A misstep is too costly on the high wire. Life becomes a balancing act. One fraught with fear. For there is zero margin for error. It’s a long way down. *** We knew the philosophy of the organization from the beginning. Pull your weight or sit it out. Everyone is replaceable. There is a mark, and it must be met. Still it hurt us all when he was pulled. I sat with the sadness for days. Not quite sure why it laid me so open. Embarrassment? Shame? Pure old-fashioned anger? A truly visceral reaction to the “not good enough” laid before us. Tiny missteps. Big consequences. But what if, my heart wonders. What if the pressure was removed? What if they could just play? What if their standing wouldn’t change based on mistakes? What if errors were met with extra chances? *** “Your spot is secure, Beth.” And there is was. The answer to all my aching. A heart pained from walking the high wire. Holding my breath with every movement, nervous of doing it wrong. Fearful that something could come along without warning and knock me from “good girl” status. With irreversible damage. Because His kingdom has not yet fully...

Empty is Not a Bad Word (Brave Every Day)...

There are blank spaces in the line up. The Write 31 Days campaign is short a few. And Write 28ish Days doesn’t have the same ring. First, technical issues (source still unknown) shut down my site for enough of a day to throw off my posting schedule. And then I got busy. Then tired. Then apathetic. Then out of sorts. It’s tempting to go back and try to fill the spaces. So the days are complete. Perfect attendance. I used to do that with my daily journal. Find where I’d left off, think back, and write from memory. Or fill it in with a quote. Anything to keep myself from staring into the blankness. Any way to plant a flag of “I was here” on a 24-hour period of time. As if only writing it down would prove my existence in the world. I can’t tell you the last day pen hit paper in my 5-year book. Months. There’s no way to fill that kind of space. Besides, the only way to be honest about those days are to leave them blank. Because I’ve been pretty absent from myself. *** I find the urge to fill the pages not much different from the urge to fill my stomach. It...

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