“I hope these songs help nourish and nurture people’s individual walks with the Lord. That people are able to see Jesus more clearly, more vividly, because of the way He reveals Himself to them as they worship Him with these songs. I pray they become well-worn paths to the throne room for people, as they have been for me.” — Brooke Ligertwood

I’m currently reading Brother Lawrence’s Practicing the Presence of God, and all he talks about (really) is recognizing the intimate presence of God at all times, attaining a ‘habitual sense of God”, and filling his mind with Him. It’s a tiny book of his letters to people about the need to consistently-by simple attention- exercise ourselves in the knowledge and love of God even as we go by our duties and I’m amazed by how he placed so much emphasis on this one truth: “The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer, and in the noise and clatter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess in God as great tranquility as if I were upon my knees at the sacrament.” Now isn’t that something? I strongly believe what we listen to contributes to this conscious personal union between ourselves and God.

Jackie Hill Perry has written a crucial text that not only exposes the root of our sins and radically points out all the real and rebellious ways we choose everything but God, but also a book about Who (a holy God), why (there is nothing, in all the earth, better than His goodness & nothing eternally satisfying as the Bread of life) and the how (to behold Him in the Word and to believe, by the power of the Spirit, that He is all things holy and good and love and perfect and as such, better than anything an unholy and broken and unloving and imperfect world could ever give).

The more I come to understand human nature–its fickleness, its impatience, its greed and ungodly tendencies– the more I yearn to eagerly receive and actively live out the righteousness gifted me. The more God’s holiness is unveiled to me, the more I’m aware of my need of a holy and perfect God. For by lifting my eyes to behold Him, I cast a glance on this life of mine and see no true way to peace, humility, joy, hope, than through the One who perfectly embodies them all. He is, and so I am.

When it comes to gratitude, my words fall short all the time. It is a conscious state of mind, a consistent posture of the heart, a sharp remembrance that moves me to tears, shakes me at the core when I acknowledge all I’ve been given, the gifts that have been purposefully placed in my life, my very breath, the realization that my days are known, my life is held, my existence is a heavenly-woven miracle that will never be abandoned.

I am forever the girl at the edge of breaking who quickly rushes to hold it together, to keep the pieces intact. And I perform the happiness, drape it over me like a cloak, I do it so often, and for so long, that I can hardly tell the difference anymore. Thankful for friends who witness the shedding, who are unafraid to see and touch the bone of a truth that might scare them a little. But they stay and stay and stay, choosing me, when I can barely choose myself.

I’ve been thinking about ways to write this post without sounding like a girl on the internet whose heart’s a little shattered and has experienced an incredibly difficult month. Because while that is true, there are also other truths I’ll choose to dwell on instead.

After reading "Mud" by Geoffrey Forsyth, I attempted to create an imitation. I can't say how close or far I am walking these lines of conceptual writing, but I like this because it's different from anything I've written.

While I have no idea what is coming my way, I shall strive to be true to myself and to Whom I belong. To resist internalizing the world’s condemnation. To not make of myself an exile but rather, give in to the warmth and support of community. To embody a gracefulness that teaches me to make room for others as I would myself, to offer patience.

C. S. Lewis wrote about this—the self-protective lovelessness: “There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.