“I pray that I honor this season and allow God to make the changes in me that he wants to make.”
“Life is busy and it is hard to breathe slow and honor the moments we are in.”
I believe in big love.
I believe in “shoulder to cry on,” “I found a shirt on sale!”, “good morning!”, “just wanted to tell you I was thinking of you!” love.
I believe in “you will never lose me,” “call any time,” “my door is always open” love.
I believe in open communication, it’s safe to disagree, no walls up, no punishments, no withdrawing, love.
I believe in “it’s always better when you’re there!”, “happy birth minute!”, “I don’t know what I’d do without you” love.
I believe in “you’re never alone,” “you’re always on my mind,” “we can tell each other anything” love, “laugh until you cry,” “would you hold my hand?” love.
Love that doesn’t seek to meet needs only the Lord can fulfill,
but that points us right back to Him and teaches us to how He loves us.
I believe in God’s breath filling the room in which I sit.
I believe in the rumble of His voice and the touch of His hand.
I believe in signs and wonders, prophecy and dreams.
I believe in a head-over-heels, all-consuming, ruined-for-this-world love for Him.
I believe in a relationship with Him that is realer and truer to me than anything I can see or touch before me now.
I believe in living a life so drenched in Him that the only possible explanation for it is the Holy Spirit.
I believe in a God who cannot be contained in any a box or within four walls or even our own minds. Limitless in nearness and power and love.
I also believe I’ve spent a long, long time silencing the rainbow-colored unicorn that is my heart.
I’ve told myself to stop being unrealistic and accept my fate. I’ve looked around at my life in shade of gray and thought maybe the problem was me. Maybe my feeler or my thinker were broken.
And when people suggested that, I believed them: “Maybe everything I thought and felt were wrong because I’m broken somehow. Maybe that kind of love doesn’t exist this side of heaven. Maybe that kind of knowing Him doesn’t exist here either.”
So I go through the motions of my life. I trudge and try to find joy in the small things and try not to let panic seize me when I realize there’s no ‘out’ – this is my life, and no matter what comes into my life or goes out of it, we’re stuck together, this life of mine and I, come what may.
And why is life so hard to love?
I can love the blossoms on the trees and my puppy’s sweet eyes and when Mowgli licks my face and the way vanilla ice cream tastes when it’s just begun to melt. I can enjoy THINGS. But life? The whole big picture- circumstances and and the contents of my heart laid out before me? It all seems not worth it.
But I have to rebuke that, that thought that life isn’t worth it. I have to know better than to hold on to that thought and give it any power. Because even when it’s all laid out before me, I don’t see the full picture. Even when I think I see clearly, I don’t. And so, I just have to trust.
But it’s not enough to just not entertain certain thoughts. I have to choose to believe what is true. And so, I will throw myself at it, at this believing that life is so, so worth it- a gift.
I won’t survive otherwise.
Blossoms are beautiful, but they aren’t enough.
Prayer and worship are beautiful, but they aren’t enough.
And I think God is delighted with that- my stubborn refusal to accept that this is all there is. “I NEED MORE OF YOU! I NEED MORE LIFE!” And He smiles because wouldn’t complacency be worse? Wouldn’t thinking I had gotten as close to Him as I was going to get, wouldn’t surrendering to feeling kind of disappointed with my relationship with Him and accepting that maybe this is just what it is… wouldn’t that just be me buying into the lies of the enemy?
And maybe it’s weird. And maybe people will call me broken. And maybe I’ll go it alone.
But I’m not going to stop expecting more.
I’m not going to stifle the rainbow-colored unicorn heart of mine…
because God gave it to me for a reason.
I’m going to stand beneath the sky my Father created and I’m going to look up at the tree branches and birds and I am going to plant my feet on the solid earth and I’m going to stand my ground.
“You gave me this life, You’re providing my breath, and You designed my heart,” I’ll remind Him. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to give up on a wild, passionate, laughing, singing, dancing, break my heart for what breaks Yours, love-filled, love-fueled, Jesus’ fingerprints, life.”
Lord, fill me up with the hope that it’s real and possible and that, even if everything is gray now, it doesn’t mean that I, like Dorothy, can’t ride the storm from the gray to the world of color.
Fill me up with both boldness and humility- the ability to stand by my heart and honor my experiences, but also apologize when necessary and admit when I’m wrong.
I pray against pride. And I pray against feeling inferior.
“Don’t shrink back, don’t puff up, just stand your sacred ground.”
What would I tell my child? What would I want her to believe if she was stuck grappling with what is real and possible?
I’d want her to know you can’t dream too big.
I’d want her to know anything is possible because we serve a God for whom nothing is impossible.
I’d tell her she didn’t need to outgrow the unicorn or trade it in for one that’s not rainbow-colored.
I’d take both of her hands in my own and look into her eyes and I’d say, with words like lead, heavy with importance: “Keep your wild dreams and hope-filled unicorn heart alive, child.”
I’d encourage her to trust in the God who made her heart.
I’d tell her not to ever force herself to ‘grow up’ or ‘outgrow’ anything. After all, doesn’t Jesus encourage faith like a child?
“Trust Him,” I’d tell her. “Trust the way He wired your heart. Treasure the youngness and hope and wonder within you. They are not an accident or a flaw.
In fact, I pray it will grow. I pray for wonder and hope and joy and ‘anything is possible’ and ‘God is RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW’ to overflow within you.
And I pray it will be contagious.
Anything is possible, child. God is a God of miracles and reckless, passionate, unimaginably wild love.”
That’s what I’d tell her.
And I suspect that’s what He’d tell me too.
He tells us to arise.
Arise. Move towards instead of backing away.
Arise. Be secure in His promises.
Arise. Live as children of light.
Oh, my soul, arise. Arise, my unicorn heart. My every breath is a gift. And I am here, my heart is beating, for a reason.
Lord, help me not stop living long before I actually die.
I want to throw myself at You- unrestrained, and helpless without you, and desperate for you to show up.
I want to live like Peter did when he leapt from the boat.
I don’t need a boat. I don’t need calm waters. I don’t need a sky without clouds or a sun to illuminate everything. I don’t need to understand. I can continue to press in, push on, and believe. Because He is there, beckoning me, calling me to Him.
With eyes open and thoughts submitted and my heart in His hands, I am guaranteed life abundant.
Rainbow colors as far as the eye can see.
Unicorns for everyone.
“If something is keeping you from throwing open the door and running out wild and free, maybe it’s time to put your something in it’s place too. It’s passion week friends, don’t let anything stand in the way.”