beauty in the breakdown.

When I read through my old posts, I really miss being able to sit and write.

Now, most of what I say is pointless and 140 characters or less.

I don't miss being sad or feeling misplaced, but I miss the heightened feelings that went along with it. The only way I can explain is to compare it to how good you feel when a headache goes away.

You-don't-know-how-good-it-feels-to-feel-good-until-you-feel-like-crap-for-a-little-while.

The last season was the hardest ever, but it was also incredibly beautiful.

I struggled more than I ever have, but I was overwhelmed with grace.

I cried more than I thought humanly possible, but just the same, the beauty of the foothills, or the valley, or the fall leaves glowing would make my heart feel like it might explode out of my chest.

Today, I had a "me day," I sat alone and did nothing. It was just alright; it left me wanting something more.

I remembered my old back yard, my afternoons in the hammock looking at this tree.

It always looked like a dancer to me. A dancer who was reaching out, and It made me want to reach out. God gave me beauty for ashes at every turn.

The struggle I experienced made me a better person.

I embraced the pain, and journaled all the lessons it brought.

So, my question is, now what?

I'm in such a happy place, just breathing deep.

But I'm kind of bored.

I miss the revelation and sometimes I even miss the tears.

The only crying I do is on my emoji keyboard. (holler)

Truth is, there's something about being an emotional basketcase that is slightly redeeming.

It's just the fluidity I guess.

No walls, nothing bottled up.

You actually might pray for the ability to bottle something up, but you can't.

It's just all overflowing at the surface, coming out whether you want it to or not.

I wouldn't want to be like that again.

But from someone who's lived to tell, I can wholeheartedly say, there's beauty in the breakdown.

So, this long, weird, rambly mess of a post is just reminding myself to not stop reaching out.

To always seek the Lord, crisis or not.

I want to be that oak, dancing in the afternoon breeze, all for his glory.

To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory. Isaiah 61:3