“Nature has its own gracious rotation—where the journey is the most essential part. Where in our waiting, magic sparks.”

• Joanna Gaines, Magnolia Journal, Patience

are you someone, like me, who finds immense joy in the completion of projects? someone who lives for the finality of a moment? climbs mountains to reach the tallest peak? Is your motivation wrapped in the reward of the view?

or… do you enjoy the hike? the sensation of the rocks underneath your feet on each step.  do you find joy in painting, or the finished product alone?

as i found myself switching majors yet again during my second year of college, i pondered these questions, which led to my decision. i was studying film because i found an immense high in the finality of my carefully crafted videos. i however hated the editing process to get there. long hours of staring at a screen moving arrows back and forth one frame at a time.  after 3 years i finally recognized how much heavier the hours of editing weighed in comparison to my short-films; and i despised the journey i was taking to get there.

as i re-examined my days i found myself doodling, drawing, sketching and practicing hand-writing. i loved using my hands, putting a pencil to paper. i thought graphic design was calling my name because i enjoyed the journey as well as the final product. however i realized again in the end, that this journey too, was a difficult one and not often my favorite.

i am one who lives in pursuit of the next best thing. i see my fault in that. i assume the grass i can only but catch a glimpse of is more vibrant than mine.

but that grass i dream of is cared for with intentionality.

so that’s where i’m focusing now.

on watering the grass i stand in. find the contentment in the situation i’m in. to love tending to MY grass rather than on the fixation of bright green grass on the other side again.

to love gardening. to love the journey.

God with us.

Emmanuel.

we’ve heard this declared.

however, how deeply has it rooted in our hearts?

have you felt His warm and calm touch

as you have yet another panic attack?

have you envisioned Him stroking your hair as you sob

as if your head is resting utop his knees,

while you’re on yours?

I have.

and I’m beginning to rest in the comfort that Jesus Himself

has been exactly where I find myself.

questioning.

hurt.

alone.

rejected.

not chosen.

He already walked through the rain that is hitting your face.

He personally understands the strength of this storm.

and now, He offers His hand

to help you walk across those wind blown waves

in solidarity.

for we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

hebrews 4:15-16

i’m afraid to make noise. 

because what if they hear me? 

i might make them annoyed or they’ll want to flee 

i’m afraid to be seen. 

just as i am

i’m afraid of even a glance

it’s only behind a closed door can i dance. 

i’m afraid to sit down. 

take a deep breath

to stop working, take a break 

and deeply not feel guilty or fake 

yet here i am scared 

of even being alone 

because that’s when i can hear and see MYSELF  

and my thoughts never cease to roam 

i cant be happy because what if they’re hurting 

but cant be too sad 

because if they see me, feel bad

i cant be energetic, giggly, or wear too big a smile 

they might get the wrong idea and think about me for a while  

cant be too strong 

cuz they might feel weak

but cant be too meek 

they’ll walk over me 

i cant be too quiet 

or they might not hear 

that the person who loves me regardless

is also calling them near 

(a really raw and icky photo i don’t want to share of me today while i was running and the start of this poem came to me the second i turned off my music)

runs deep. 

i miss places, faces and feelings. 

sunshine, hugs and iced coffee. 

here’s how i’ve been walking through that:

when i find myself missing a specific place, i imagine i’m there. 

i focus and think about how i would feel if i were there. i picture what would be around me, who would be next to me, and what would be running through my head. 

i realized something when i was doing this;

that even when i was there i wasn’t fully happy. yes i am deeply content in each moment but i am constantly self-conscious, anxious and planning my next moments.

when i imagine even some of my favorite places, i remember how even on the best days i was uncomfortable. 

so in this i decided, i’m done over glorifying things that are past. i’m done romanticizing the future possibilities.  (“when this happens, then i will be happy”), if you know me personally, you know i’m optimistic and chase after my big ambitions: that’s not going to change. 

but i’m done:

finding my joy in superficial things. 

finding comfort in people who continually break my trust and expectations. 

finding my hope in fleeting dreams. 

because here i am. i chased my dream: to live and france and work in a coffee shop. i’m doing it, but thanks to covid even my dream life isn’t fully a reality. 

(the cafe is closed and i don’t speak french. life is hard here some days if you haven’t caught that yet.) 

so, it’s time to trust God who never lets me down, who is my constant comfort. He, who gives me joy when i’m falling apart and who hears me crying out missing the home i once knew, where i felt safe. 

he is my safety.

i listened to a podcast this week (here it is) and the interviewee said something that hit me

don’t try to show up with lots of words all strung together perfectly.

just show up.

say “here I am” and be authentic.

so here i am, nothing prepped. no poem, nothing deep on my mind. just many unwanted feeling:

sadness, un-motivation, sleepiness, self-consciousness, confusion, worry, annoyance.

it has been cloudy for weeks. i am someone who instantly is unhappy once the sun disappears (like instantly). one second there’s a bit of sun: i’m content and the next second clouds come: i’m sad.

so this is me being authentic.

maybe my instagram posts look pretty, but the girl behind the photos is homesick; in shock from culture differences; annoyed with not being able to communicate, understand, or explain herself in French. she struggles not to cry during French class, while writing this post, or even while gardening. i miss exploring with my family, laughing with my friends, the familiarity of target and hugs desperately.

don’t get me wrong, life here is wonderful and simple. i am deeply content and at peace, but i think being joyful/ happy is another thing.

some days I have extreme, unexplainable joy, like this past weekend when I got to meet new people, learn about different cultures and beliefs and speak in English for a bit. but now, the sun is gone and I sit in the cold singing to John Mayer, missing the warmth of the sun.

I mean it with my whole being that Jesus is my comfort through and through, but what does that look like when I wake up finding out that if i return to California this summer for my sister’s wedding, I might not be able to get back into France. trusting God’s providence and faithfulness daily hurts y’all. it’s hard.

let’s rip some weeds out so that we can plant some seeds for good things:)