old enough…. or not

The last few days I’ve been soberingly considering the fact that I’m nearly 25 years old. I’ve always been ‘the youngest’ and always FELT ‘the youngest’ and in the last few days I’m staring to simply not feel…. the youngest? A strange idea but there’s no way else to describe it.

The encouraging thing is that tonight I remembered that you can never be too old to use a well placed, ‘Your mom…’ joke.



“Late have I loved You”


Gungor is playing in the background. A hot cup of Chamomile Nights tea is cooling on the table next to me as I sit on the floor in the entryway to my apartment wrapping presents for a friend’s birthday. Late tonight she’ll be getting back home & I plan to roll out of bed & drive to her house to greet her with presents, prophecy & her favorite flowers.

“You called and You shouted, You broke through my deafness. You flashed and You shone, dispelled all my blindness & You breathed Your fragrance on me”

Friend. Home.

It’s nearing July, and the 6 month mark of my move. Move, I am finally starting to be able to say that I ‘moved’. I have moved. I live here. 6 months later. I am finally starting to be able to say that I have friends. Friends, comrades, companions. 6 months later. I am finally starting to say ‘home’ referencing …. here. I still call KC home, still call Iowa/Nebraska home. But at 6 months I’m accidentally calling Virginia home as well. A week ago I sat in the prayer room in Fredericksburg & realized that it felt like mine, like home to me, for the first time.

Normalcy is setting in, just in time to face another big change around the corner, but thus is my life, it’s the one that I’ve chosen & I’d not exchange it for anything. Not for any stability that meant less adventure, less leaning onto the arm of the Lord.

The night before leaving KC a friend dropped by to say goodbye, I opened the door, threw myself into a big hug & came out sobbing. Thru tears he handed me a leather canteen and said “You’re going into a wilderness, but it’s ok, the Lord said you’re going to come out leaning. You’re going to come out.” I didn’t have a clue what he meant then, but 6 months later I can agree with that. It’s been a dry, painful, lonely, tearful season.

“It was there that I searched for You, and it was there that You found me.”

We talk much of being Rooted & Grounded. We talk, pray & sing Psalm 1, that tree that does not wither, we sing it “Let my roots grow down deep” but do we ever stop to think of the THIRST that makes a tree send down deep roots? I’ve spent these months, deeply thirsting. And I’ve spent these months being deeply filled. Long, late nights crying over a guitar, singing at the top of my lungs & being filled to overflowing in this little basement apartment.

“You breathed Your fragrance on me”

6 months, and I think I’m coming out. Leaning for sure, but I’m coming out. And no that does not mean that I’m moving back to Kansas City. Quite the contrary. I’m starting to believe in myself, believe in my heart, believe in the dreams that stirred me to leave behind all the safety & love that meant home & drop myself in this place of feeling so alone in so much unfamiliarity.

6 months & I feel like I’ve finally got my legs beneath me, and in 6 weeks everything changes again. I’ll need to find a new place to live, which means finding new finances, aka, a part-time job so that I can stay serving 2 different houses of prayer in 2 different cities, and continue to pursue the crazy dreams that led me out here in the first place.

“Late have I loved you”

What an honor, to love & walk with the Son of God. What an honor, to be His friend & give to Him our adoration. Tis so sweet to trust in You Jesus, and oh for grace to trust You more.