the unknown.

I’m living amidst a lot of unknowns. I know we all do. But I’m living in a LOT of unknowns right now. And I’ll admit, it’s a little¬†scary.¬†I’m not currently walking through a valley or seated on the mountaintop. I’m more so inching along, taking baby steps, on a path I don’t recognize. Some days there is more light on my path than others. And some days I can hardly see my toes.

Today I’ve found myself stopping in the middle of a work email or paperwork, daydreaming/worrying into possible outcomes for some things I’m walking through. Finally, around 2:30 in the afternoon today, I had had enough of the worrying. I went to one of my favorite devotionals, “A Diary of Private Prayer” by John Baillie, and read the first line (no coincidence here):

“Almighty God, who of Thine infinite wisdom hast ordained that I should live my life within these narrow bounds of time and circumstance, let me now go forth into the world with a brave and trustful heart.”

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Yep. There you have it. I can choose (and it is a choice) to let the stress of the unknown take me out, pull my hair, bite my lips, chew my fingernails, worry through each hour, and deny my Spirit the possible growth in faith. Or I could choose to rest! I could choose to march forward in confidence, with a “brave and trustful heart”.

And I think I might just do that. I think I’ll pray for His omnipotence to be sovereign and His will to be worked out unto completion. I think I’ll trust the One who put me here, who put me amidst these unknowns, who never waivers or worries. Yeah. I think I’ll rest right here.

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Words.

They’ve always been a big deal to me. It probably stems from a piece of my mom’s advice when I was young; “Emily, words can help or they can hurt. You have to think before you speak.” I doubt she knew at the time that she was molding my little heart into a hyper-sensitivity to words.

After I met Jesus, words took on a whole new power in my heart. Every word I read in the Word felt alive and personal and warm to me. I’ve always journaled, but now journaling became an outlet, my own personal correspondence with the Holy of all Holies. And now for me, I feel like I can’t fully comprehend what I’m walking through unless I write it. Whether it be scribbling down quick words on a scrap piece of paper, tedious and [attempted] creative lettering, or sitting down to spill my heart in my journal, words are a gift that allow me to correspond with my Savior King.

Words have power. Words written, words spoken, words sung. They can help, or they can hurt. They can kill or give life. They can heal and they can poison, build up or tear down. And now more than ever, with social media literally at our fingertips, we are given the opportunity to heal, hurt, build up, or tear down, with every swipe of the finger.

I don’t take this all lightly. My prayer is for this to be a place where I can be real, bare, authentic, transparent. But I also want to shine light through my weaknesses. I want to write life-breathing words that lift high our Father’s Name and Kingdom. I don’t have all the answers, and I’ll never claim to. I’m trying to figure it all out, too. Life is hard and life gets messy, but I’m hunting for the good, for the grace, the joy.

“If clinging to His goodness is the highest form of payer, then this seeing His goodness with a pen, with a shutter, with a word of thanks, these really are the most sacred acts conceivable.”

-Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

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