Attraversiamo: Let's cross over...

And so it begins. The journey I've been longing for, or I guess the chapter I've been anticipating on this journey I've long been walking. A new season of freedom in uncertainty. Agenda-less, but not without direction. My adventure. The one I've always dreamed up in my head, never really expecting to become reality.

I stand at the edge of one life on the cusp of the next. Hindsight allowing me to appreciate the beauty of what was last lived. The experiences had, people met, and lessons learned. I grew into myself more than ever this past year. Experienced the richness of community. Discovered the goodness and faithfulness of God. Developed a new sense of independence and self-awareness living on my own and by myself for the first time. Began to find healing from past relational wounds. Believing in love again, just a little bit more every day.

I fought some of my darkest demons and discovered some of my deepest passions. Passions that had always burned bright on the inside, but were buried underneath the expectations of others, and even worse, myself. I found the strength to let them resurface and fell in love with travel, cooking, and most of all, writing, once again.

It was a lonely year at times, as I was often a hermit in my own home. But a renaissance year, as well. As I processed and healed, I pulled back many protective layers that had built up around my heart over the years and experienced a rebirth of my true self.

I began to understand my identity as a daughter of the King, a lover of the light and cultivator of community. As a writer and a cook. As a creative.

Though the time spent alone allowed me to tune into God and my spirit within, I developed a fierce hunger for authentic community. It became my prayer to cultivate such a community and welcome and host it in my home, small as it may be. I found a handful of dear friends who are now doing life together. Often in a bar over two-for-one beers. But also on my living room floor while sipping red wine and eating homemade tri-layered cake. Family dinners on that cool carpet have taught me that no size of a kitchen is too small for a gourmet taco night or decadent wine & cheese party. That not having a dinning room or even a kitchen table cannot prevent authentic community from forming over a shared meal.

I learned a lot about self-care and the need for healthy boundaries in all areas of life. As I began to set better boundaries, I realized my relationships with family, friends and coworkers only improved. Actions I thought would bring bitterness actually resulted in respect for my attempt to better care for myself.

And I discovered an addiction to business and performance (that may sound harsh to call it an addiction, but trust me, it totally is). Recognizing that filling my life with countless things to do, lead and give energy to was merely a way of externally validating myself. Finding my ridiculous desire to please everyone around me by performing at impossible levels of success only ever expected by myself, as a snowballing addiction to performance and my ultimate source of unhealthy, external self-worth.

I'd been running on empty since I was a toddler. Always over-involved, doing more than one person should. This year, I decided to face my addiction and find real healing that would lead me to live another kind of life. And this other kind of life is exactly what I'm stepping into.

But first, let me set the scene:

I've quit my job. Entirely. With no intention of finding another job right away. Crazy? Yup. Absurd? Pretty much. But absolutely necessary.

I've realized that to truly heal from this addiction to business and performance I cannot be in an overly stressful environment that beckons striving for achievement. It would be like an alcoholic attending AA meetings in a bar. And so while it sounds utterly insane to choose unemployment for a short season, I know it's the wisest thing I can do to jump start the detox I so desperately need to fight the workaholic performer blood that fuels me.

I have a month left on my lease, and I'm not renewing it. Nor am I looking for another place to live. I'm sure you're now officially thinking I'm insane, but no, this isn't one of those homeless experiments.

Instead of a new lease, I have a ticket. A roundtrip ticket to Dublin, Ireland, where I will begin a six month (possibly more if fate allows) journey of travel. Why Ireland? Cheapest roundtrip tickets to Europe I could find. And you gotta start somewhere. Plus, it's gorgeous and green, so why the hell not?

Don't worry, I'm not going to spend six months roaming the world on my own (although I probably would). My dear friend Morgan is traveling with me. She is an artist. A fantastic, talented, beautiful painter. We are kindred spirits. The rare kind of friends that can talk for hours without getting bored or spend days in silence sharing blessed solitude side by side. We share a love for bold, black coffee, natural beauty, travel, local coffeshops, history, Jesus, red wine and writing. She is a free spirit and creative and has helped me embrace uncertainty, as well as my own creative identity as a writer. We share what seems to be a sacred bond. I couldn't imagine a more beautiful person with whom to share this journey ahead.

I know, I know, you have questions. Like what are we going to do for six(ish) months abroad?

Live in freedom. Exploring the places our hearts have always wanted to go. Painting and writing our way across the world, letting the natural beauty we encounter, the people we meet, and the culture we experience seep into our hearts, change and inspire us to become who we were created to be, and leak out onto canvas and journal pages that will hopefully leave our mark on this beautiful earth.

Cheesy? Definitely. But that's my style. Cheesy ins't such a desirable word, but it's definition totally is if you ask me. Cheesiness is really finding hope and optimism where others don't. Choosing to recognize opportunity. Emphasizing beauty. Loving all that is lovely. Being cheesy gets a bad rap, but it's not such a bad quality, y'all.

We hope to discover more of our true selves along the way. To tune into our spirits and learn to live from that incomparably authentic place. To encounter God everywhere we go. Knowing that He is omnipresent and His kingdom is global, international, and multicultural. We want to experience His goodness, admire His creation, and praise Him for His faithfulness everywhere we go.

And I want to learn how to live agenda-less, but not directionless. Embracing the journey without fear of the unknown. Finding freedom in uncertainty. Living out moments and days instead of planning out details. Knowing my value and self-worth comes from whose I am and never what I accomplish.

Over the past year I have learned to love myself. This is a huge feat for a girl who always required the affection of guys to feel worthy. But through a season of healing from the wounds that caused those destructive behavior patterns, I realized that wasn't my only source of external validation. I learned to love myself in a way that replaced my need for approval or attention from men...but not in a way that has replaced my need for success and achievement. I still hold way too tightly to how others view my performance.

Additionally, I have no idea what I am supposed to do with my life anymore. None whatsoever. For the first time, I don't have a game plan and a corresponding timeline for my life. And you know what? It's absolutely liberating. But it also means that I can't tell you where this adventure will lead. I no longer have a career goal with step by step accomplishments that will take me to the top. I can't even really answer that "so, what do you want to do when you grow up" question anymore.

All I know is this:

It's about who you are, not what you do. No job is your true calling if you're unhappy doing it. We were created for something. Wired purposefully with unique passions, desires and talents, which we are meant to discover and pursue. And it's worth unemployment, screwing up or galavanting across the world to find your unique place within it.

I love to travel. I love seeing new parts of the world, digging my toes into different sands, tasting regional spices that burn the taste buds off my tongue, dancing to traditional rhythms that make me look like a total white girl, experiencing ancient history as if I were there when it took place, meeting people who are head over heals in love with their land, culture, country and traditions.

The most impactful moments of my life, the heart-stoppers and game-changers, have occurred in different parts of the world, on unfamiliar soil. I think it's because universal truths hit home when you hear them ringing all around the world. And because you come to know your true self, untainted by others, noncomformed to your own culture, when you move around long enough. And also because God dwells in all of us. So you meet people who reek of Jesus, glow with God's divine light and speak His wisdom into your life everywhere you go. And sometimes you just need to hear it spoken in a new language or metaphor, or see it in an African sunset or a pile of Roman ruins to finally recognize God's love, redemption, and reign over this earth.

I've dreamed of traveling the world my whole life. I've been blessed to visit Mexico, Canada, England, France, Israel, Sierra Leone, Uganda, Rwanda and Congo. Other than an eight-week summer in Oaxaca, my trips have never lasted more than two weeks. Just enough time to fall in love with a place and then have to leave. I always wanted to drop everything and travel for an extended period of time. But I kept telling myself that would be ridiculous, crazy, stupid, irresponsible, a waste of money. But it was my heart's dream.

Here's a little secret, y'all: Dreams don't disappear. We think they do, because we make excuses and listen to the opinions of others, both of which push them down so far they're hard to see. But they only get buried deeper into the pulse of our veins. And even though they are harder to see, with every heartbeat, we want and need to live out those dreams even more.

I'm sure you're thinking, that's great and all, but how are you actually doing this. And if you're anything like me, you want some logistics, like how on earth are you making this happen financially?

I'm using my life's savings. Some I earned waiting tables at Friday's, some was given to me about ten years ago for my Bat Mitzvah, and some my parents and grandparents put away for me a long time ago. I realize it seems totally irresponsible to blow my life's savings at the age of 22. Trust me, I get that. But I know this is what it was put there for. I can feel it in my bones that this money was never meant for bills or rent but for the adventure of my life. Who knows how long it will last wherever I end up. I may be home in a month or I may be gone a year. That's the thing about travel, you never know who you'll meet or what opportunities you'll encounter.

Morgan's selling her artwork to fund the trip, as well. Paintings she's been working on over the years, which she's had displayed at some art shows recently. She's also pre-selling paintings she will create on our travels. She'll be painting everywhere we go, and who knows what art connections she'll make abroad.

Do we have the money to be gone six months? Nope, not yet. But we are taking a leap of faith. Knowing this is what we're supposed to do and trusting God to provide in His awesome, mysterious ways as we go. Plus, it's really just more fun that way.

So, where to after Ireland?

Who knows really. We're holding our plans loosely, allowing each piece of the journey to inspire the next destination. But we plan to visit Scotland and England since they are so close to Ireland. Then we want to spend significant time in Italy. We've considered Greece and Bali to follow Italy. India, Israel, Croatia and New Zealand have popped in my head, as well as Turkey and Switzerland.

But Italy is the main destination on my heart. The culture, slower, richer, more focused on living in the moment and falling in love, whether it be with a person or a plate of pasta. The food, wine, ancient ruins, art and history. The vineyards and olive trees, street-side cafes and gelaterias. I've had a love affair with Italy since my feet landed in Rome a year ago. With the understanding of the sweetness of doing nothing and the spiritual significance of food, I'm convinced that Italian is the true language of both my heart and stomach.

Other than traveling, my two truest passions are writing and cooking (which goes hand-in-hand with eating, naturally). At a time in your life when no career path you've planned for seems to totally pull at your spirit any longer, you've gotta go back to the basics: what do you love to do?

My answer: travel, cook, eat and write.

And so I'm going to write my way across the world. Allowing the food I eat and cook, the community I encounter and the beauty I experience everywhere I go to inspire the pages I fill.

So, there you go. A glimpse into the journey that lies ahead. Or as much of a glimpse as I can currently give you.

I don't know what it looks like, where it will take me or how it will all work out. I do know it's a little crazy and definitely risky. But I also know that this world is a kind of beautiful that can only be described as crazy. And that we were created to experience it. But you can't by playing it safe. Dreaming big is only risky in the sense of never crossing over into making your heart's dreams your life's reality. With big risk comes big reward. And if that reward is tasting this crazy beautiful life in all of its fullness, I'm willing to risk it all for one tiny, decadent, game-changer of a bite. 

            So, as they say in Italian,

                        Attraversiamo.

                                    Let's cross over...

My balcony changed everything

It's hard to imagine ever leaving this balcony. And yet, in only a month I will.

This small platform has been my refuge throughout the past year. Fenced in by a wall of hearts, I found healing I never dreamed possible. My view was God's canvas for revealing himself and redefining love in my life.

Early mornings, just in time to watch the brilliant sunrise, momentarily cool in the summer, crisp and refreshing in the fall. Even buried under thick layers and bundled up tight in a blanket, I made it out here in the winter.

There's no better place to center, recharge or simply be. Those early mornings became my escape, setting the rhythm for my life to come, constantly showing me that there is more. Wooing me deeper into my relationship with God. Calling me toward my destiny. Speaking out my identity.

I came to know myself out here. The birds' songs and the way the sun makes even the dullest leaf glisten. The clear blue skies or the steady flow of sweet cotton candy clouds across them at dusk. The roar of a summer thunderstorms and the heavy rhythm of fierce raindrops piercing the earth. The mesmerizing snowflakes that every once and a while would fall with grace. This natural beauty brought peace and stillness. It cut through the anxiety and stress and brought me back to my own natural state of calm and content.

Stillness is incomparably powerful. With it you connect with yourself in an intimate way. It beckons a kind of authenticity that requires vulnerability, the breeding ground for self discovery.

In complete solitude, surrounded by remarkable beauty, I faced myself. Peeling off the masks, layer by layer, I was reacquainted with me. Untainted by life circumstance and non-conformed to expectation or desire. Out here, my soul was naked once again. Self-awareness or self-discovery couldn't come close to defining the significance of such an experience.

Our deepest desire as humans is none other than to be known. Deeply, intimately known for all we are and all we desire to become. That is innate in each of us and true whether we acknowledge the need or not. So what happens when you we don't really know ourselves? I think we settle for thinking we are "known" by people in our lives who've actually got us wrong. Who don't see into the depths of our hearts or the corners of our wildest dreams.

Without that naked image of our own souls, and with that intrinsic desire for known-ness, we believe them. If we are people pleasers who rely on external validation from the opinions of others, this only worsens. We want so desperately, subconscious as the desire may be, to experience the intimacy of being known that we allow ourselves to become who it is they "know" us to be.

It could be a parent, friend, boss, or lover. Anyone we are in relationship with. We start telling ourselves that because they know us so well, it must be true. That must be my character, even though it's not. That must be where I want to go, even though it's not even close. That must be who I was created to be or what I was born to do, even though it is so completely not.

People we love and respect have an incredible ability to speak into our lives. Without knowing our true selves, we risk masquerading through life as someone those around us think we are or should be.

If the desire to be known will never fade, which it clearly won't, we owe it to ourselves to be the first one to meet that longing for known-ness.

I came to know my true self out here on this balcony. And through that, I was able to develop a love for my authentic self. A love that allowed me to begin healing from past relational wounds. From my fear of marriage. From my need for external validation from male affection. From my addiction to busyness and performance.

For me, these many layers of healing occurred only because I came to know the real me, as God created me. He wooed me out here on this sunny yellow chair. He romanced me in a way that completely rewrote my false definition of love. Speaking words of affirmation, showing me glimpses of His heart, unfolding my identity as a daughter, surprising me with rainstorms, singing to me through the birds...

God loved me back to a place of believing in love again. But His kind of love. The unconditional, joy carrying, never destructive, always empowering kind of love that we were all created to know, give and receive.

Receiving His love out here in a place of serene solitude allowed me to follow Him into the depths of my own heart, come to know my true self, and offer that same kind of love back to myself.

And because of all that, I started to dream my own dreams again. I stepped into my actual identity and rediscovered my deepest passions. Knowing that I knew myself, what others had to say about it could no longer change my direction nor slow my speed.

Don't get me wrong, we all need community and there's absolutely no amount of self discovery that can replace that. We desperately need to experience intimacy in the form of being known and loved by others. But discovering my true self allowed me to meet my own intrinsic need to be known, developing in me an authentic love for myself, something that no amount of community could have given me.

This balcony was the safe-haven I needed to find the inner healing that would launch me toward my destiny. I'll never be the same because of the time I spent out here. And when it's time to leave it behind, I'll carry it's splendid solitude with me as I journey into the world, mask-less, in the direction of my own dreams.

Spend significant time alone with yourself in a peaceful place. Journal, meditate, pray, read, or just stare at the trees brushing the sky. Take off the masks and be with yourself in your own safe haven. I promise you will be transformed, and nothing in your life will ever be the same.

Art: A mechanism for praise

There is power in praise. To shake the heavens and move the earth. God responds to the praise of His name and His goodness by His people. He moves. He acts. He comes. He invades.

And people respond to praise, too. There's so much talk of the fear and power of God in ways that judge, reject, criticize, scare, or push people away from Him. People respond to positivity not negativity. Praise glorifies God, drawing attention to His goodness and faithfulness. The ways He has shown up in our lives and moved on our behalf. The life He has breathed on us. The grace He has gifted us. The redemptive acts that have transformed us. And the incomparable, unconditional love that could only attract others to Him.

Praise glorifies God in a non-threatening, totally inviting, completely contagious, I've-got-to-get-me-some-of-that-goodness kind of way.

Regardless of this awesome power, God deserves all of our praise and all of the glory in every minute for everything. But I think it's important to realize what an impact our praising Him can have on the lives of those around us.

It causes us to think about how to offer up our praise. What kinds of offerings are we equipped to present Him with throughout the day? How has He wired us to praise Him? And how has He designed that purposefully to reach and impact others?

For me, I've known for a long time that it was my writing. That God designed me to craft and use words as a mechanism for praise. To fill pages and blogs, and someday books, that by highlighting what He has done in my life, offer up thanks and glory to God. Revealing His goodness, kindness, faithfulness, and fiercely relentless love to others. Knocking down walls and misperceptions in their hearts that separate them from their perfect and loving Father. In an authentic, nonthreatening, humorous, humanizing, and relatable way that reaches and resonates with people.

I still believe this with all my heart, and that is why I write. But lately, I'm starting to wrap my brain around another way God wired me to praise Him and draw people closer to Him.

Food. Wine. Cooking and baking. Feeding and entertaining. Creating culinary art that speaks to His incomparable beauty and unfailing love for us. Nourishing bellies and spirits by inviting people to the table, as they are. Offering them safety, community, food, rest, and an opportunity to be heard, healed, and fiercely loved.

My passion for food, like any God-given passion, was placed in my heart to help me love God, love people, and do something good for them both.

My tiny kitchen has become the chapel where I come to worship God. It is a place of holiness. As I create new dishes in the kitchen, I offer up smells and tastes and sounds and colors of praise. The rythm of chopping vegetables is the drum that calls me to worship. The intoxicating smell of onions caramelizing in the pan is the incense rising at the altar. The wine I sip and the crackers I nibble while I cook are the communion I take to remember all He's done. The combination of brilliant colors as the dish comes together speaks to God's beauty. The fact that He even created all of these unique flavors I taste speaks to His goodness. Because there is no use for them other than pleasure. I dance for Him in my kitchen as I cook. To the sizzles and pops coming from the stove. And as I offer up my praise in pots and pans and plates, He shows up. His presence fills that holy kitchen cathedral and His joy permeates my heart as well as the food I'm creating. And hopefully, it then fills those to whom I feed it.

The Creator loves to see His children create. And even more to use that creation, be it a painting, a book, a photograph, a song or a tri-layered red velvet cake, as an offering of praise. One that glorifies God and reveals aspects of His character that can only be desired by all.

Your studio is your chapel.
Your desk, the altar.
Your art, your mechanism for praise.

Follow the desires of your heart to find what it looks like for you, because it is undoubtedly different for everyone. But I promise you, you were uniquely wired to create something that glorifies God and gives others a glimpse into His beautiful heart.

That is your praise.

And when you find it and passionately pursue it, the world will never be the same.

Come to the Table: A review of Bread & Wine

I was honored and overjoyed to be an early reader for Bread & Wine, Shauna Niequist's newest book. Shauna's previous books, Cold Tangerines and Bittersweet, have inspired, encouraged and shaped me over the past few years. Hers are the books on my bookshelf that I like to call "extra loved." Creased pages, bubble bath soaked and red wine stained. They never stay on the shelf long, as I constantly pick them up to flip through their worn, familiar pages, hunting for an impactful quote or simply needing a quick refresher on one of the many gems I uncovered within.

Her words, utterly weightless, fly off the page and flutter straight into your heart. I think it's her vulnerability and authentic voice that leave you hungry for more nuggets of wisdom and truth. And it was that same acknowledgment of her humanity and call to a life of authenticity that kept me hanging onto every broken and beautiful word of Bread & Wine.

And in the spirit of authenticity, I must confess that as an early reader I was supposed to post a review of Bread & Wine on my blog no later than one week ago. I started the book the very day it was delivered and finished it the next. With so much to say, I'd been longing to blog about it ever since. But alas, life happened. And I put it off, over and over, always feeling like there was plenty of time for it. And after reading three of Shauna's books, I think I can say with confidence that she would understand. And remind me to be present over perfect and to give myself grace. So rather than apologizing for a delayed blog post, I'm just going to tell you why Bread & Wine is an absolute must-read love letter to life around the table.

As a self-proclaimed foodie, I love food and everything about it. I love the tastes and the smells, the textures and the colors. I love that food is both a love language we speak to and an art we create for those around us. I love that food allows you to get your hands dirty. Whether eating slippery barbecue ribs or kneading floury dough. There's an earthiness to food. It's elemental. Starting with mere powders you can create something that breathes life. I love the way different ingredients come together to form intoxicating smells, the sizzles and pops when you drop bacon in a hot pan, and rhythm of chopping onions and peppers.

I love that anyone can cook. And that the most delicious dishes never come from a recipe but from experimenting with this and that while dancing across the kitchen and pouring in extra love.

Most of all, I love the way food nourishes in a combination of physical and spiritual fulfillment that can only be characterized as divine. With food, we can say I love you, I'm for you, I'm sorry, and I'm here. We do that, as Shauna knows and expresses, around the table. By inviting the people we love or even those we just met to join us in the sacred act of sharing a meal together. And while passing plates and filling wine glasses, we share not only a meal, but a conversation that forms community. Food is the element that breaks down all barriers, reminds us of our common humanity, and brings us together to fill each other up.

My heart has always known this, but Bread & Wine brought words and understanding to my burning passion for eating, cooking, and feeding people. One I always assumed was just the fat kid in me dying to come back out to play.

Yes, this book is filled with delicious recipes. I've already made the dark chocolate sea salted toffee, and it is as heavenly as it was low maintenance to make, an odd combination in desserts. I did my own spinoff on the risotto, and was shocked that it came out not only edible, but absolutely scrumptious despite the fact that it was my first try at the Italian dish. The recipes are wonderful, easy to follow if you don't speak the culinary language, and full of helpful tips for first-timers.

But as Shauna proclaims, "This isn't about recipes. This is about a family, a tribe, a little band of people who walk through it all together, up close and in the mess, real time and unvarnished."

It's so easy to let our busy schedule and messy home and imperfect lives keep us from opening the door. Shame creeps in so quickly and we think everyone else has it all together and that if we open our homes, we'll be discovered for what we really are: human. But you know what that does? It tells those around us that they can come in as they are. Unmasked and messy. It invites them to be vulnerable and admit they aren't perfect either. It opens the door to authentic community, something I'm convinced after reading this book we were absolutely created to experience.

You don't have to make everything from scratch. You can order takeout or simply put some cheese and crackers on a plate (this totally counts as dinner in my book, and I'm sure Shauna would agree). And you don't need fancy china to gather around the table. Or even a table for that matter. I live in a tiny one bedroom apartment and most often serve dinner on the floor, since the only table I have is a bar  overlooking the kitchen that seats two.

Shauna's not talking about entertaining in a way that reinforces the facade of perfect or the myth that one can actually have it all together. On the contrary, she says "I'm talking about feeding someone with honesty and intimacy and love, about making your home a place where people are fiercely protected, even just for a few hours, from the crush and cruelty of life." It's about "creating a soft and safe place for people to connect and rest."

We all have that power. Whether we consider ourselves cooks or not. Whether we have a dinning room table that comfortably seats 20 or a living room couch and floor that uncomfortably seats 10.

Amid advocating for life around the table in the midst of imperfection, Shauna gives us permission that so many of us so desperately need.

Permission "to be tired, to be weak, to need." Permission to stop believing the myth that we're in control. Permission to fear change, but to step toward it anyway. Permission to "taste and smell and experience the biggest possible world, because every bit of it, every taste and texture and flavor, is delicious."

Permission to accept help. Permission to dare to journey into the unfamiliar. Permission to take it one baby step at a time. Permission to dance between feasting and fasting. Permission to release what our fists have too long been clenching. Permission not to know the details. And to be a bit anxious about it. Permission to slow down and rest. Permission to be "present over perfect." Permission to nourish and be nourished, just as we are.

And to do it all at the table. Together. In our own home and in the homes of others. With two holy ingredients: bread and wine.

Bread & Wine is in fact a love letter. To life around the table and so much more. It sings a song of truth in a world of fake. Truth that flutters off the page and takes root in your heart, transforming you and even those around you if you let it.

Stepping into bits and pieces of Shauna's story, you come to know her as she really is. Not just spunky, brave, creative and loving. But often messy, tired, overspent, shameful and scared. Human. Broken and beautiful.  Just like each of us. Her vulnerability allows her voice to paint the pages of this book with a picture of another way of living.

Bread & Wine is an anthem for authenticity. A call to community. An invitation to life around the table. A sacred space, "the hospital bed, the place of healing [that] becomes a place of relearning and reeducating, the place where value and love are communicated."

I'm tired of running full-speed, striving for perfect and hiding from community.

I'm ready to come to the table.

Are you?

Exposed brick

Exposed brick
a wall
that welcomes you
into its story
singing its song
with its cracks & crevices
a mysterious invitation
into its past
and the past of others
who have drawn near
warm in hue
and heart
its holes say "home"
its imperfections
a call to
vulnerability
an anthem of
authenticity
drawing you into
your true self
as you stare hard
into its openings

Why cover something
so naturally beautiful
so unique
impossible to replicate
why hide its powerful past
behind a mask of plaster
to do so would deny
the world a glimpse
into its soul

But what's inviting
in another
what draws us to them
towards their light
is what we hide from
ourselves
the authenticity
in this rustic exposed brick
is inviting
enchanting
approachable
yet I avoid showing
any of my cracks
I cover
all of my holes
with thick plaster
I mask
any resemblance of past
with fake
hiding my baggage
like my darkest secret
instead of
my best story
most inviting feature
warmest aspect

Exposed brick
covers this coffeeshop wall
a powerful reminder that
we offer the most
to this broken world
when VULNERABLE
we are our best
when AUTHENTIC
We must expose
ourselves
our pasts
our hearts
We must embrace
our cracks
our holes
our damage
It is what makes us
us
what gives us
character
warmth
and appeal

Exposed brick
doesn't hide behind plaster
hear the call
to authenticity
see the
incomparable worth
of your fractured state
expose it all
invite the world into
your story
welcome them into
a new way of life

Exposure transforms
Redemption awaits

Turning the Page

I’m learning that life is like an adventure story. Divided into countless chapters, the end of each leaving your fingers flipping to the next. Every chapter bringing you more questions than answers. The plot growing more complex. The stakes only rising.

With every new chapter you start, you’re certain you’re going to figure it out this time. Convinced you have the ultimate answer. The perfect path to get to that happy ending. The brilliant plan to get you to the final destination you’ve dreamed. And time after time, you enter into the next chunk of pages only to find your predictions proven wrong by unexpected circumstances causing new twists and turns in the plot.

That may very well be the only predictable part of life: it’s unpredictable nature. And the guarantee that you just won’t get more answers until you take the next step.

Because each chapter doesn’t just precede the next, it creates and shapes it. It’s the characters you meet and the battles you fight and the foreign lands you visit that both allow and lead you to the opportunities, people and places in the next.

Without a single chapter, the entire ending would be changed.

Your story depends on every chapter, paragraph, sentence and word which compose it. Large or small, long or short, seemingly significant or not, every experience in your life shapes you and impacts your journey. Not just in learning some lessons along the way. But in paving a once nonexistent road for you to travel.

I’m nearing the end of a chapter. And like most, it’s turned out to be a lot shorter than I expected. In fact, I was ready for this one to continue for much of my story, and pretty shocked and confused when I realized it wouldn’t. That it wasn’t supposed to. Because there was something else in store for me. Another adventure calling my name. One I never would have heard without living the one I currently am. And just like last time, it’s requiring a huge leap of faith. Because even though I hear the call and recognize my name, I have more questions than answers. I can’t see exactly what it looks like. It’s not at all what I had planned or prepared for. And I have no clue where it ends.

But that’s the reason why we read adventure stories, isn’t it? Why action movies are so exhilarating and hard to turn our eyes from. Not knowing (what will happen, how it will turn out, where you will end up, if you have what it takes) is what makes it an adventure in the first place. And what gives us the energy, thrill and rush.

The uncertainty is liberating. It makes us feel alive. Because we were created to live a life of freedom and whimsy and risk. We are not called to safety. We know this in our spirits, and that’s why we love adventure stories. They strike a chord of deep longing in each of us to live our own.

And if every chapter creates the foundation for the next, then I don’t want to stay in this one longer than I’m meant to. Its only purpose was really to prepare me for the next. To stay would be to settle. To remain stuck on the cold ground instead of flying free into the warm sunrise.

Instead, it’s time for me to turn the page. And step boldly in the direction of my destiny. Intentionally entering the next adventure of my life. Accepting the challenge. Embracing uncertainty. Knowing only that this chapter has created the opportunities that lie before me with purpose and prepared me in all the ways that it could. Understanding that as important as this season was in developing me and shaping my life, the next will be equally transformative.

I’m only a few chapters in. My story is just beginning. And I want to live it in freedom and whimsy until the moment I flip to its final page. An ending I will never experience unless I start the next chapter.

It’s time to say yes to uncertainty. It’s time to turn the page…

And what does that look like? I don’t know exactly. But layer by layer, piece by piece, a picture is evolving and coming into view.

It all started with a silly childhood dream to travel the world. Funny thing about your wildest dreams…they don’t disappear. You might not be able to see it from where you currently stand, but that flame is still flickering in the depths of your heart. You can bury it down and try to replace it, but your biggest dreams are woven into the very fibers of your soul. They have the miraculous ability to stay alive, even when you starve them. And I think it’s because God feeds them for us.

One of the coolest things about following God is that He wants to give you the deepest desires of your heart. The harder you run after Him, the more your spirit aligns with His. Eriwn McManus explains this well:

“Here’s the liberating reality: when you are passionate about God, you can trust your passions. God uses our passions as a compass to guide us. To put it crassly, when you are madly in love with God, you can do whatever you want. I’m convinced this may be the best contemporary translation of Psalm 37:4.”

In this season of uncertainty about my future and my place in the world, one you could probably get away with calling a quarter-life-crisis, there are only a few things I still know I love:

Traveling. Writing. Cooking.

They nourish my soul with energy and inspiration. They fill me with joy and light and life. I am my happiest and most authentic self when I travel, write and cook. Each of these crafts allows me to see deeper into my mind and heart, live more out of my spirit, and look more like the person I was created to be.

When things don’t make sense anymore, you have to go back to what you know. And though it may be very small, it’s the only launch pad for your destiny.

Rather than trying to enter further into a destiny that may never have been designed to be mine, I’m taking a step back, to dive head first into a season of contemplation, exploration, self-discovery, and inspiration. In the single context where my life makes more sense: travel. Because through seeing more of the world, I see, discover, and come to know more of God, and my true self.

So what does turning the page look like this time around?

In July, my dear friend Morgan and I will be leaving Nashville to travel for an extended period of time (a year, maybe more, maybe less.) Leaving behind everything we know to see the world, find creative inspiration, and discover our true selves. But wanting to absorb each experience on this journey, letting them truly shape and transform us, we won’t preselect the destinations to come.

The first stop is Italy, a country I entered a love affair with quite some time ago. And then? Who knows.

To not plan the details of this trip is a huge struggle for someone like me, but I know letting them go to embrace uncertainty is critical for true transformation.

The journey is fast approaching. And though it often seems like a crazy, far-fetched, absurd and ridiculous idea, I can feel it in my bones that an adventure is exactly what I need. Bob Goff’s words express it well:

“I used to think knowing God was like going on a business trip with Him, but now I know He’s inviting me on an adventure instead.”

I’m accepting His invitation.
Saying yes.
And turning the page…

Street Side Sentiments

There's something about street side seating. Even from the inside, at a table near the window, now raised leaving a large open space. Air flowing. Voices carrying. I'm right up against the city streets. A part of the action.

My eyes follow their steps, their gaze, their gestures. For a moment, I can step into their stories, the passerby's. The movement is refreshing. My eyes, liberated from the screens, rest at ease, fixed only on space, object, and light. The shops, restaurants, bars and even cars are signs of life. Reminders of our nature.

We are not meant to be stationary, stuck or trapped. In our environment or by our circumstances.

We were created to move.

In power and grace, impact and ease.

To fly, adventure, roam and be.

But never to suffocate in stillness.

Only to breathe easy, constantly moving in a steady flow forward.

You don't  catch your dreams sitting down. Like fireflies, they're flying fast in front of you. You must chase after them. Completely prepared, expecting to receive them.

So get up, grab your mason jar, and go after 'em.

You want to be one of them? Strolling by with a skip in your step?

Leave the street side table.

Get up.

And get on the street.