Now; Until It Sticks To My Bones

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

Philippians 4:12

Paul was unto something here. Learning to be content.

Notice he doesn't say happy; being the fleeting emotion that it is, who could base their life around that?

He says content. Or satisfied.

To be in the present. To be satisfied with the present.

These are the things God's been whispering to me lately. And I thought I was a master at this!

To live life! To not miss a moment! To breathe in the air deep, avoiding life comas at all costs!

But the truth is, I haven't been good at this. Not the way He wants me to be.

Perfect example of this with 'future' projection: Costa Rica.

The very moment I get there, dirty backpacked strapped to my shoulders and college friends by my side, enraptured by all that is around me...the first words out of my mouth? I can't wait to come back here.

Something is extremely wrong with that.

Here I am, surrounded by the now, and I'm already planning for the future.

There is the problem. And that's where some of us stay our whole lives. And we miss it.
(Future projection also looks a lot like...waiting for the floor to fall out from underneath you and always expecting something bad to happen. I believe anxiety literally has that definition. Thank you to my dear friend, Stacy, who reminded me that I will miss all the beautiful now moments if I'm always worried about something like that)

Perfect example of this with 'past' projection: School Without Walls.
I just visited my old school last week.
I realized I have been living in the past there, still.
And I have not fully been in the present with my new kids.
While I am blessed to have had that opportunity and I miss those kids very much, that season is over.
And if I don't wake up and enjoy what's in front of me now, Ill miss it.

I think part of this revelation comes from the new season I am in. A late 20-something year old.

It's here that life slows down. Up until this moment it has been all big events.

You're 16.

You're at prom.

You graduate high school.

You pick a college.

You're swallowed up by 4-5 years of college life.

You turn 21.

And then it spits you out. Full of adrenaline. Left to your own devices and expectations.

And that's where reality sinks in.

...sure you have the big '25'.

But this is life.

Day in, day out.

And the 'big events' are over.

I spent a large portion of my life planning the next 'big event'. And they were all plenty happy to present themselves. It was all about the next adventure or trip or get together. But at some point you have to ask yourself...what about now? Because eventually, it doesn't satisfy. Or it gets exhausting. Or it's not realistic. And you are left alone in the room with.... the 'now'.

Because at some point, now is the most important thing.

And the next string of moments might only be hundreds of 'nows'.

And somewhere along the way I thought to myself, 

'If I can't be content in the seemingly mundane now, will I ever be happy?'

And honestly, I don't think I would be. Could be.

Because to really appreciate the moment when it's not super exciting is hard.

It's a skill.

Someone today taught me that in order to stop your mind, while in a moment, from wandering to the past or rolling off into the future (anxiety.) you have to pause and focus on the senses.

What am I smelling?

What am I tasting?

What am I seeing?

What am I hearing?

What am I feeling (tangible)?

Sure it sounds foolish. But when fully engaged in this activity, your mind doesn't have time to weigh itself down by where you've come from or worry you about what's going to happen. You can only focus on the birds singing outside, the smell of your sheets scented with laundry soap, the feeling of down comforters under your skin, etc.

And this skill I will practice until I die.

I will fight against the battle for my 'now'.

Recently, I have started to fall in love with my back yard garden. And birds.

My boyfriend took me on this secret trail where 8 birds fed out of my hand.

What an incredible moment. And I realized every bird has a different song.

Before, it all sounded the same. Like birds.

Now, (and with the help of my bird whisperer boyfriend and Barnes and Noble book) I am beginning to separate the myriad of sounds I hear from my porch into very specific songs each male bird is singing to the females.

And isn't that what everything is about?

Somehow taking a step back and separating the swirling, chaotic, blurry mix of thoughts and life out until it makes sense....or at least until you can taste it.

Although I haven't always been able to practice it, I've loved this concept all along. I am obsessed, intrigued, moved by inner worlds. Attention to detail. Separating the seemingly monotonous, uninteresting out into a stretch of detailed descriptions. That's why I love David Foster Wallace, the poem 'People', why I love looking inside people's brightly lit houses at night (creeper status?), why I love listening to conversations at Tap & Mallet and imagining their life. It all makes you stop, makes you listen, makes you think about their world.

All I know is that life is ready to freely hand you anxiety.

And this anxiety will choke the joy out of the now.

And I am holding tightly to my now; tasting, hearing, seeing, smelling, feeling....

Until it sticks to my bones.

The Word

by Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom

of the crossed-out list

of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"

and "broccoli," you find

that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word

is beautiful. It touches you

as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present

he had sent from someplace distant

as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,

among your duties, pleasure

is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.

Do you remember?

that time and light are kinds

of love, and love

is no less practical

than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?

Tomorrow you may be utterly

without a clue,

but today you get a telegram

from the heart in exile,

proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,

the king and queen alive,

still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them

who can find the time

to sit out in the sun and listen.

 xoxo,

mp

Do You Know How That Feels?

Mr. Powell asked if he could keep my drawing. Do you know how that feels? 

(from Okay For Now by Gary D. Schmidt)

Yesterday I visited the school I spent the last two years of my life, heart, and skills in. I cried a lot. I smiled a lot.

My good friend and I met at said school two years ago. We also left the city at the same time the end of the year last year. So, she visited this weekend and we decided to make a visit and see the place that has felt like home for so long.

Before I could even enter the building, students were pouring out to greet me.
Quickly, I was the wave came; hug after hug. And just like that, it was like no time had past. Like slipping on your favorite pair of soccer shorts. This was my home. This was where being myself was the only way to be. This was where my idiosyncrasies could be useful and my passion came alive.

Students who were so special to me, those I had formed a bond with for two years were able to sit down and talk like no time had passed. Students I had driven home, given relationship advice to, students whose heads I held while they overdosed in my class, whose parents I had prayed with over their son's hospital bed, students I lectured, joked with, brought into my home for Spanish Food Day, made skits with, challenged to the point of anger, learned Spanish dances at Tango Dance Cafe with, and those I walked alongside in their fight for success. My kids.

And the weirdest part of it all, there were kids whose names I didn't even know, calling me by name and so excited to see me there again.

And then it started; sharing memories. We laughed about boogers of the day, of me going down the hall pushed on skateboards playing the guitar to get kids to class and to stop making out. But slowly, it became obvious...they remembered everything. And it meant more to them than I realized. They needed to know they were special. That I hadn't replaced them. And as they listed off all the ways they missed me and all the special things they remembered...I just wanted to cry.

Had I really left such an impact?
Wasn't I just a hot mess barely keeping afloat?
Had they really noticed I cared so much?
Had they really listened every time I took them aside and spoke truth into their life?
They did.
They heard every word.
When they seemed disinterested, they weren't.
When they seemed like they weren't paying attention to my advice, they were.

They were testing me.
And I passed.
And they let me in.
....and I left.
Like all other adults in their life do.

So, that piece I will be wrestling with for awhile.
But what I know to be true is that we should never doubt the impact we can have on another person.
The lie is that what you do or say doesn't matter. That if it's not you, someone else just as capable will do it.
But someone else won't. And they don't.

What I know to be true I that God is good.
And He is in control.
And He is for me.
And He is the one who made me like this.
And He is the one who made my heart fill with love for these kids.
And He knows what He's doing...even when it hurts.

Sometimes, there are seasons. And you have to be able to let go. And you have to be able to give your whole heart to the new thing.
I realized, I haven't been giving me whole heart to my new students.
That I have still been mourning my first home. My first love.
Or rather, I never really left myself mourn.
But yesterday...I had a chance to do that.

But... I'm going to do whatever I do with my whole heart.
Starting now.
Because my new students deserve the same memories.
 Even if it's not the same as the old school, it was never suppose to be.
And this problem of giving my whole heart isn't just here. It's everywhere in my life.
I'm going to not avoid things that may hurt.
Or pull away from hugs first before someone else can.
Or end phone conversations before someone else does.
I'm going to try to love fully. Be a friend fully. Be a teacher fully. Be a child of God fully.
And stop trying to protect my heart so much.
Because I may never cry if I do that, but I miss the whole point.

Thank you to my first group of kids.
Who taught me so much about myself and about life.
Who fought and survived their circumstances.
Who inspired me every day. Who made me laugh.
And who let me in their worlds and loved me.
... do you know how that feels?

I'm learning to:
Love even if I will have to move on.
Not diminish the power I have in others lives.
Trust God's seasons.
Because even if I knew I would have this pain of loss when I started, I would have done it all anyway.

Because I'm lucky, I do know how 'that' feels.

Xoxo,
Mp

If Not For Winter

Six weeks: now patches of ground
emerge from white fortresses.
How beautiful is the dirt
I took for granted. Extraordinary
the wild green of grass islands.

Having the world snatched
from us makes us grateful even
for fence posts, for wheelbarrow
rising, for the stalwart spears
of daffodil uncovered.

 "February ground" by Marge Piercy

Lately, I've been noticing that you can't appreciate in full the beauty or magnitude of something unless you're reminded of what it's like without it. Spring holds such power because of this; a new smell in the air, wind scented with promise, flower bursting from the ground. But if we lived in a perpetual state of Spring, would it lose it's magic? What is Spring if not for it's predecessor, Winter?

A few friends and I took a trip to Lake Augur in the Adirondacks over break. It was a great time to sit by the fireplace, read, spend time with Jesus, dance on frozen lakes, and catch up after post-college life has tried to swallow us whole. One thing that stands out; the stars. On the last night we were there a few of us drove by car out into the middle of the road down where there was an opening. It was chill-you-to-the-bone cold but we were determined. Once we got out of the car and looked up into the sky I was 1-In love with the incredible beauty of it all and 2-Pissed off (ha!). Once I soaked up all the beauty that is stars in the ADK...so clear, so shockingly clear, so beautiful...I felt cheated. Stars don't look like that in Rochester. I have settled for a perverted version of stars most of my life. And to make it worse, I know how they CAN look. I just always forget; getting lulled into mediocrity. But people in the ADK see these every night. Although hard for me to believe, I think a lot of them are used to their sky.

So, you can't seem to really appreciate Spring without Winter. And you can't really appreciate ADK stars without first being cheated by ROC stars. The beauty really lies in the absence.

And the same goes for my personal life as well lately.

I recently decided it would be a good idea to go off of a medicine I have been on since May.

This was the same medicine that managed to clear my head and keep me stable. Logical. Happy.

I became so used to that new type of normal I forgot what it was like before.

And then 7 days off of it....the old friend started to creep back in a bit.

And I was quickly reminded how I used to function. What I thought was just normal before was revealed for what it really is.

Now I know better. I know that's not normal. I have tasted what it could be like.

Funny, though, that in just 10 short months I had taken for granted this new type of normal.

I had forgotten what, in it's absence, my reality held.

This morning, I have a new appreciation for that normal.

For a brain that doesn't deal with 'Wave Nights".

For emotions that don't deceive you.

For moods that don't imprison you.

For stability.

For general happiness.
(SIDE NOTE: I am not advocating for wrecking your life or going off medicine you should be on to appreciate it more when you go back on it. Ha. I have specific reasons).

And honestly, this idea applies to everything.
To appreciating great boyfriends because of all the schmucks.
To fall in love with the juicy orange because of all the yucky dry ones.
To love toilet paper because of the weeks in Peru.
Etc, etc, etc....

I guess what I've been thinking about is pain.

And death of oneself.

And the inability to avoid the rough patches in life.

It's impossible to get by without facing certain things or going without.

And even if we could, it would mean a lifetime of not fully grasping that beauty.

The truth is, I want what He wants.

Whatever that costs.

Especially if that means I'm not lulled into a life coma.

Especially if that means I know what it's like to feel and to be alive.

Because there is beauty in transitions and in changing of seasons; even if it's not easier.

There's something in it that reminds us, 

"Stay awake. Don't fall asleep. Don't forget."

So the next time it feels like things are shaking, welcome it.

And when things are good, enjoy it.

But always remember the power of predecessors. 

Spring is nothing if not for Winter. 

xoxo,

mp

1 Peter 5:10 "And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast."

Pearl of Great Price

The thing that I have learned about Jesus is... He talks to me in strange ways.
I mean this man knows you better than you know yourself.
For goodness sake, He made you that way.
So when He is speaking to me about a time of pain and birthing something incredible...of course He will have be obsessed with youtube live birthing videos.
Or, when He has been trying to show me how faithful He is to me and how much He adores me, of course there is a season and game of "Jesus kisses" between the two of us.
My point? This man who is fully God knows how to speak in just the right way, to just the right place of your heart, at just the right time.
"His sheep will know Him by His voice"
So I've slowly figured out how He talks to me. It's always super symbolic and super repetitive. So when I start to become obsessed with an idea or concept...I start paying attention.
This is no exception.

As of late, I've had this increasing interest in pearls.
It started a few years ago when I was looking up the meaning of my name. Someone told me that was a pretty important thing. That many times the enemy tries to speak against what it is your name means.

The first thing I found out brought discouragement. I don't have some exciting, biblical based reason for my name. I have a grandfather who liked the movie "The Thornbirds" and named me after the woman in it. Now, if you're familiar with this movie you will realize that this chick is the same  woman who sleeps with the PRIEST. Thank you Poppy for that.

But I kept researching. And eventually I saw a pattern. Megan, in all its derivative, means "Crowned Pearl". And since then, I've been really in love with them. Most woman want beautiful diamonds as their engagement and wedding rings, I want a grey pearl with yellow diamonds. And in honesty, I didn't really know why I loved it so much...but He did.

I started thinking about pearls again recently and looked into the process a pearl undergoes.
It says:
"The formation of a natural pearl begins when a foreign substance slips into the oyster between the mantle of the shell, which irritates the mantle. It's kind of like the oyster gets a splinter. The oyster's natural reaction is to cover up that irritant to protect itself. The mantle covers the irritant with layers of the same nacre substance that is used to create the shell. This eventually forms a pearl."

And for cultured pearls, a harvester opens the oyster shell and cuts a small slit in the mantle tissue to induce this process.

CRAZY.

Why? I'm not totally sure yet.
And that's sort of the process. That it is a process.
Slowly, the Lord reveals His story.

Here is what I do know, though.
He has been speaking pearl over my life.
Pearls are formed when irritants come in. When the protection wasn't there. When 'foreign substances' mess up the way it should have gone.
Maybe He's saying He covered me when things happened and turned me into a pearl?
Maybe He's saying I covered myself in an attempt to self-protect?
Maybe He's saying He sometimes needs to make incisions to produce beauty?
Maybe He's saying all of it.

But one thing is for sure, pearls are beautiful.
They are sought after.
They are tough.
And they would never have been produced, if it wasn't for all the things that "shouldn't have happened"

Matthew 13:46 says, "When he discovered a pearl of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it"

I know this scripture is talking about man finding Jesus and being willing to give it all up but this morning when I read it it really felt like Jesus was saying,

"I found you, Meg. 

And I believe you to be my treasure worth giving up everything for. 

My pearl of great price.

And I did"

And that story is yours, too.

xoxo,

mp

Out of the Mud and Mire

"It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them" (Hosea 11:3-4)

 It's humbling to realize that He looked down in the pit of muck and mire and He chose me. That He saw it all and said that my heart was beautiful to Him. That He didn't just look at what my situation was or who I was but what He was going to make me into. That He knew I'd say yes. That He knew I would run after Him sometimes full of joy and love, sometimes full of distrust and unfaithfulness, sometimes full of sadness and smeared mascara; but I'd run after Him.

To be completely honest, my childhood was not the greatest.
There's worse, I'm sure, but mine is mine....and what I can speak to.
And I say this not to elicit sympathy or bask in some sort of self-pity but because I think there are times the Lord wants you to mourn things you didn't have and rejoice in what you do.
This is one of those times.

The truth is, there is no logical reason I should be a fully functional, motivated, successful young adult; but I am.
There's no reason that I shouldn't be continuning every generational cycle that's gone before me for generation after generation; but I am NOT.

So why me?
This is a question I ask Him all the time.
Why me, Lord?
Did you know I'd say yes?
Could you see how badly I wanted someone like You even before I could see it?
And, I don't really know why.
I only know He reached His hands down inside a pit of mess, of dysfunction, of carelessness, of mother and fatherlessness, of neglect, of rejection...and pulled me out. And He has never let me return.

Psalm 40:2 "He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand."

And He didn't just stop there. Slowly, He started to weave the new story. He protected and covered me, He spoke to me with relentlessness, He chased me when I didn't know how to let Him be a Father or love me, He showed me what love was, and He brought people into my life to fill in areas I needed filled.

And once that was set, once the Cornerstone was put in place, the old house was demolished, and the new one was built...He switched it all. He showed me it was not about me.

It was about everyone else.
It was about breathing life into everyone else.
To show them the lengths He would go for His beloved.

Will you tell people what I have done, Meg?

Will you let them know the lengths I will go for their safety?

Will you speak to the power of My love?

Because the story was never meant to stop there. To stop with me.

I was meant to glorify Him.

I was meant to speak into the darkness of young girls' lives the power of light.

And not with some general understanding, with power that comes from having Him do it in mine.

This is what the Lord says to His anointed,

Whose right hand I will take of to dubdue nations before him

And to strip kings of their armor,

To open doors before him so that gates cannot be shut:

I will go before you and will level the mountains;

I will break down gates of bronze and cur through bars of iron.

I will give you riches stored in secret places,

So that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel

...who summons you by name.

Isaiah 45.

So, let hope rise instead of despair.

Whatever your story is.

Because everyone's is different.

Because we were called for such a time as this.

xoxo,

mp

One Little Seam After Another

It's just one little seam after another and you never seem to be getting anywhere. But of course I'd rather be Anne of Green Gables sewing patchwork than Anne of any other place with nothing to do but play. (from Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery)

This is how most of life can feel sometimes, just one seemingly insignificant seam after another. And many times, it doesn't seem like we've moved at all from the place we started. In fact, most times we wonder if we've gone backwards. But the truth is, all of that stitching matters. All the work put in has rippling consequences that we can't always see in the moment. But if we didn't start with those stitches, the whole piece would never get done. And as we plug away, sometimes getting pricked, sometimes having to pull a few out and start again, we begin to see the thing we are working on come together.

I feel like I've been given a respite lately, at least in part. I've even been accepting things about myself I used to want to change. I've stopped fighting the things that don't need to be fought. Even the other night, my friend Stacy said something so deliciously true in regards to my frustration at my manic tendencies or living too passionately/engaged,

"Meg, life is something you have to be involved in and some people just aren't. Maybe everyone else is wrong. Maybe you've got it right"

Now it's not about someone else being wrong and me being right. But, what if the thing about me that I was trying to fix didn't need to be fixed? What if I just am actively involved in life? Painfully passionate and intrinsically involved at times, but involved. Maybe I'd rather be that, with the downsides that come with it....than anyone else? Just like Montgomery said. Maybe I'd rather be Meg of East Rochester with all of the hot mess that comes with it than Anne of any other place with nothing to do but play (or be lulled asleep by adulthood/stability/rat races/people pleasing).

This year has been tough and challenging. Every day it seems there were mountainous obstacles; mostly within. Emotional waves, anxiety, fear, certain lies I kept repeating to myself about myself and just a general sense of unrest. (Of course this wasn't the entire year. A lot of it was incredible, too.) But, in all honesty, I was getting exhausted. It's tiring to always be fighting. To feel like you're never catching a break. 

But He was there every step of the way. He has been breathing thanksgiving into my heart. He has challenged me, molded me, refined me. And the unfortunate thing about it all, is you can't acquire what you need to acquire without the really lonely, frustrating, hopeless, seemingly meaningless nights of sadness or moments of anger. And I've learned some foundational principles and facts about myself and life:

*He will, truly, never leave me or forsake me
*I will never be able to see in full the intricate story He is weaving
*I participate best in this story of mine when I am like a child, loving vulnerably and whole hardheartedly (even if my dreams are shattered, even if I get hurt, even if His decision isn't mine)
*I will fail at being perfect every time
*There's no sense drinking toilet water when you can have living water
*All that matters is what happens in the secret place between Jesus andI
*He cannot be manipulated by my short-sighted fits (And I'm glad)
*He will not let me get in the way of me
*He is faithful to me
*He will author and bring to fruition every heart's desire (Mostly just because He delights in me)
*He can take me yelling at Him. He won't go anywhere. He values honesty over fakeness
*To love Him means to obey Him
*He's a better God than me
*What people think about me or my choices will never weigh in comparison to His thoughts
*Community is essential; I wasn't meant to do it alone
*I can't muscle my way to changing myself. But He holds the key when I release control.
*Don't trust your feelings.
*He is not holding out on me
*All the good and even most of the bad...I like it. I've slipped into my own skin. And it fits.
*Life lived for others matters. And not just in grandiose ways. In the little things.
*I am more than a conqueror and this is only the beginning

Jeremiah 31:3 "The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness."

Romans 2:4 "Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?"

You see, you can't get to those bullets over night. And every stitch of them seems glacially slow and unproductive. But it matters what you do in the secret. It matters whether or not you are getting to know Jesus. Because He really is alive, He really has loved you with everlasting love, He really is trying to draw you with his loving-kindness.

And even when it seems like all of it may be for nothing or that no progress is being made, I'd still rather be going after one little seam after another, stitch by stitch in this life with Him and the people around me than anyone else...doing any other thing.

xoxo,
mp

Peace of Thanksgiving

Source

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 

This is a basic scripture. A staple scripture. One that we hear all the time and one that sometimes seems to lose it's significance to familiarity.  Not tonight.

I've always liked this section of scripture. Because it's so true. It's so relatable. It's so useable. How many of us have encountered some time in our life when we were anxious and needed to be told...not to be anxious? Everyone. But I'll be honest, when I wasn't breezing by the thanksgiving piece in the scripture somewhat ignoring it...I was a little confused by it.

If you were a fly on the wall of my consciousness (bet you're having fun in there), my inner dialogue would sound something like this:

Don't be anxious about anything-check. Makes sense.
Pray about each thing as it comes up. Without anxiety. Let Him know what's up-check. Makes sense.
Thanksgiving?
Is this really a time for thanksgiving?
Do you want me to fake it right now, Lord?
I'm trying to get a hold of not being anxious right now. That's quite a feat. If I can do that, I'm super awesome.
So what's this stuff about being super thankful also.
Does this really have a place here?
I mean, it has a place...thankfulness. But I think you mixed up some of your verses, God.

And that is the relationship I had with that scripture for the better part of my walk.
Truthfully, until tonight.

Something happened tonight in the middle of my super honest, super raw, and super frustrating conversation with God (those, by the way, are equally the most sucky and most incredible convos to have with Him. Otherwise, everything that matters and everything that's real tends to somehow get locked up on the inside while we go parading about in our perfectly well adjusted looking selves. Totally put together. Totally self-sufficient. Totally full of crap).

What happened was, while I was gearing up to feel really sorry for myself and frustrated at the requirements I felt He had given me, He switched something in me. Some stream of thoughts got crossed. As I'm in mid-sentence voicing all my my honest and sincere frustrations (which is always an important thing to do with God-transparency and honesty) thanksgiving butted in line like a rude customer trying to execute a friend-chat-budge (Larry David, anyone?) Suddenly, my words changed. A flood of all of what He's done to get me to that place in my kitchen came to me. All the people. All the growth. All the awful times that produced the most fruit. All the lessons learned. All the changes in my heart. All the mountains He's shaken for me. And I couldn't do anything but say it all out loud. It was powerful. It changed everything that was going on inside of me.

What I was upset about was still there, it didn't fix it.
And I don't believe God made me acknowledge the good things because He doesn't want to hear me complaining.
I believe there is something really powerful about thanksgiving.
God would have listened all night to me. He would have loved to hear my real heart about things. I'm sure He wishes I was more open and honest with Him.
But tonight, what I needed spiritually was thanksgiving rising up inside of me.
Something changes when it starts to bubble up.
Suddenly, you're humbled. And not in some violent way. In an almost soft, quiet, whisper.
When thanksgiving starts to rise up in you and you start declaring the moments; both big and small...it  feels like God whispering to you,

I know. I see it. I agree with everything you're saying and feeling.

And I love you so much.

And I'm so glad you are saying all of this to me.

Do you remember, though, that I'm good.

Don't forget I'm for you.

Don't forget we are in this together.

Don't forget these other things, only because you need to know how much I'm willing to do for you.
To work for you.

To do on your behalf.

And all of this matters to me.

You matter to me.

And I'm not mad you're mad.

So be mad.

Or sad.

Or whatever it is you are.

Just as long as you remember I'm holding you right now.

Just as long as you don't start believing other thoughts.

Just as long as you don't stop seeing me.

Because I knew you'd feel overwhelmed.

And I knew you'd need to be reminded.

So think about what we've done together so far.

And when your fit is over, I'm still here.

Bam.

And once I said all the things He has done and all the things I was so greatful for, the truth was.... I really was so greatful. I really didn't even feel the same way I felt when I started.

So sometimes, in the middle of a morose-filled mood...think about such things.

xoxo,

mp