When all you can see is yourself in the middle of the storm, look up and know that there is something above the storm.

“Job 14:7-9-
“For there is hope for a tree if it be cut down that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease.  Though its root grows old in the earth and its stump die in the soil yet at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches like a young plant.”


I don’t know what I’m about to write for y’all tonight.  I don’t have eloquent words to share, but what I do have is straight from my heart.  I’m tired, but as I sit here preparing for sleep, a little voice inside says, “write something.”

Tonight let’s try something different…

I sat down with the laptop, and not a single notion of what to write about.  Usually I have an idea stewing in my head for days, and then when I finally find time to put it into words, it flows freely.  These days though, I don’t have time to think about anything extra.  There are too many thoughts crammed inside my head, so I will try and clear my mind for a minute, and share with you the first thing that pops in there.  Here Goes!

God ALWAYS provides a way out for his people.  There are many times in the bible, one(or more) of his servants were “stuck” in a tricky situation.  He sent Moses to save the people of Egypt.  He went into the fiery furnace and saved Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.  He told Noah to build an ark, for crying out loud.  Ultimately He sent his son to save anyone who would believe.  Why is it that in hard times, he is the last place we run?  I’m so guilty of this.  The only answer I can give is that I spend too much time focusing on solving the problem myself, instead of just trusting.  Once a situation has passed, I can typically see where God’s hand was guiding me.

I guess I’ve just been having a tough time in a few different areas lately.  In the past I’ve written a lot about anxiety, divorce, hard times and all the things that I’ve felt so deeply.  I think, I’ve been avoiding blogging because I’m tired of writing about those things.  Frankly I’m sick of feeling them.  I’ve learned that not everything is meant to be shared.  Not everyone cares where you’ve come from, and things don’t always turn out the way we expect them to.  Sometimes though, sharing can help someone else feel a little bit less alone in the world.  People will walk away, that’s a fact of life, but occasionally someone comes running towards you and takes you completely by surprise.   Someone said to me this past week, “You’re never going to be able to control the actions of another person.  You basically just have to decide whether to trust them, or walk away.”  As far as things not turning out the way we expect them to, well, that’s not always a bad thing.  What if things just happen to turn out better than we expect?  Isn’t that what we are taught in church?  God is much, much larger than our expectations.(Ephesians 3:20)

If we believe this, I mean really believe it, then why do we spend so much time worrying about how things will turn out?  I’m trying to stop… really I am.  The problem I’m facing at the moment is that when I get sad,(remember I said I’m tired of being sad) I refuse to cry so I get mad instead.  I tend to shut down, and have a little bit of trouble focusing on whatever task is at hand.  At times all I can see is the metaphorical storm, even though I know I am much better off when I pause, take time to pray about it, and keep my head up.  Too many times, we let people’s opinion of us cause our heads to drop in shame.

Psalm 3:3

“But you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.”

I’ve finally reached a point where I’m not constantly apologizing for being who I am.  I know my heart, I know the areas that need improving, and I’m trying.  I’ve got a whole lot of trying in me.  If I lack, it’s certainly not in persistency.  I just keep on trying, even when I feel like I’m failing miserably.

Today was not really a good day, it’s just been a couple of long days in a row.  I spent a big part of my evening fighting back tears.  As we sit here on the couch, I looked over and said, “How much do you love me?”

He replied, as expected, with an all familiar, “too!”  As in, “I love you too.”  I found myself smiling, because I know there’s not just one, but three of them that love me “too”.  They don’t always act like it, but we’re learning.  Saturday will be the anniversary of our first year together.  In a way it’s bittersweet, because I tend to worry about what if.  He has said it a thousand times, “just let it be okay and develop stronger over time.”  I’m always the first to arrive, or think I’ve arrived at the place I’m supposed to be.  If it takes us a while to get there together, I’ll work on my patience along the way.  I get frustrated, and worn out, but I won’t walk away.  I am trustworthy, and always loyal.  I put a whole lot of effort in everything I do, well, except for maybe laundry.  Honestly, I don’t care about fancy things or diamond rings.  I just want to know without a doubt, that I’m loved and appreciated.  Being able to crawl up beside you on the couch when I need someone to just hold on for a few minutes, goes a whole lot farther in my book than a dozen roses.  Ask Camden, he’ll tell you I like tulips better than roses anyway.


Maybe I’m silly, for not wanting the things that money can buy.  Y’all, I might get dumped when he reads that I want so much more than his money.  I don’t think what I’m asking for is too much.  It’s really not complicated at all.  Just come home to me. and only me, each night.  Be kind, even when it’s not your first instinct.  Smile, you know the one… the smile that’s just for me, where your eyes crinkle around the edges and I get weak in the knees.  Recognize that I spend most of my time putting everyone else’s needs before my own, and every once in a while take some time to make me feel special.  I try so hard to let you know you are priceless, handsome, and amazing.  Never stop talking to me, communication is the key.  I want to know everything about you, but not in a creepy stalker sort of way.(I mean unless you’re into that, then creeper status it is.)

A friend and I were talking the other day and she said, “sometimes marriages/relationships get stale.”  I’m sure I read way more into it than she expected, but I can’t stop thinking about that comment.  If a relationship is going to last, then when the stale comes, you find a way to refresh.  You talk to each other, and move as one unit.  There will be many season throughout life, some anticipated and some not.  Maybe I’m old school, but I truly believe that commitment means that you stick.  You fight for the things you want in the relationship, but you don’t run away when times get tough.  Believe it or not, there are people out there that can and will remain faithful for a lifetime.  I’ve said it too many times to count, Love is so much more than a feeling.  It’s being there for someone else even when you are tired, sick, and broken yourself.  Love is choosing me, even when I’m quite hard to love.  As I said at the beginning I’m tired, and I’ve been writing way past my bedtime.  I’ll leave you with a little piece of my heart, and an excerpt from my book:

“Job 14:7-9-

“For there is hope for a tree if it be cut down that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease.  Though its root grows old in the earth and its stump die in the soil yet at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches like a young plant.”


I just read the entire book of Job and do not remember reading this scripture.  I have to admit, I googled the tree growing new sprouts.  This really does happen!  This scripture is speaking hope to my soul as I’m writing.  It says to me, even though it may seem my marriage is like a tree being cut down with seemingly nothing left, there is still hope.  For if a tree can sprout new growth with just a little water after being cut down, how much more can we grow together with Jesus Christ, the living water in us.  My God must be working on some new “sprouts” that will never cease!”


It’s funny to me now, that I was so confident that the marriage would survive.  I saw it as the tree cut down, and in a sense it was.  Even more so, I was the tree and those new sprouts came up, just not in the way I expected.  Today I sit here, thankful for the process.  Thankful for the lumberjack, and forever grateful for all the new sprouts.





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