the middle season

Let me tell you about the season in between. The one between the good and the bad, the broken and the whole. The one where we stubbornly fix our eyes on the light that we promise ourselves is at the end of the tunnel, at the end of the darkness that we keep marching through. The season that's right in the middle. 

That's why I'm here to chant and to scream and to yell to take your eyes away from the light. To keep holding on to it, tightly, but let your eyes wander and look at your current location, right in the middle of the dark. To fix your eyes upon your brokenness, and to let yourself be fully aware. To be fully aware, so that when God brings you slowly but surely to that light, day by day, you can be fully aware of your movement and your journey.

I think I would call my life right now a middle season, as I sit here with my messy bun and glasses and pj pants that are 3 sizes too big and my brother's old Young Life tshirt. I'm in between the yearning for the light and nothing but that, but also I'm learning embracing my brokenness (learning is bolded because I don't have a clue what I'm doing, lol). I'm waiting waiting waiting, for chaos and for calm and for the storm and for prosperity. But I'm trying to look at where I am and learn the full extent of this situation, so that this pain isn't for nothing. If I'm going to do this middle season, I'm going to do it right. 

So here we are, friends. In a season where my patience is being tested and i feel like I'm on a scavenger hunt for grace. But for something I know is gonna be better than anything I could think up in my head. Here we are, embracing this brokenness and weakness so that we can one day appreciate the goodness of being whole, and that we can learn what it's like to cling to the most peaceful and loving guy in this world. Jesus, you're crazy and I don't know where we're going because it's so. dark. 

But maybe that's why you brought me here: so that you could gain my trust by leading me to the light, one foot in front of the other. 

That was way confusing, but what else is new. If you don't get anything else from this jumble of words, I hope you know that the light that is at the end of the tunnel is a real thing and we can cling oh so tightly to it. But I hope you don't ignore your pain, so that you can see the glorious things that come out of it. 

-Lin 

one foot in front of the other

All this pain, I wonder if I'll ever find my way. I wonder if my life could really change at all.

I'm not used to typing these words. Words with depth and brokenness, and a story that isn't finished yet. This season is hard; the hardest thing I've ever done. But these lyrics and this song put both the pain of my heart and the pain of my body into perspective. This song was playing when I walked up in front of too many adults and held up a piece of cardboard on it that told about my specific sin and brokenness. I listened to this song as I cried to my best friend about heart break. I'm listening to this song now, as I tell you about how He makes beautiful things out of dust. 

I'm no more than dust right now, longing to be something that comes from His gentle and knowing hands. Longing to be loved. Longing to be whole, and longing to see the end of this season so that I can see what I've been fighting for. The hard days have made me question whether I was so sure about this, about this love, about this Father. I was gently cautious, like the guy's voice in the beginning of Beautiful Things. But as I continue, I'm sure. I'm content. I'm all set, just like he is when he screams about how beautiful the things are that God chooses to make out of us. I'm choosing, morning by morning, day by day, and piece by piece, to see that truth. To see the love in the midst of the doctors and the x rays, and between the tears and the cookie dough. 

God, I'm broken. I'm so freaking broken I don't even know how to put it into words that you can understand, my friend. But this life is something worth celebratingC and something worth living fully, and that's why I'm choosing to put one foot in front of the other and continue on the beloved journey that God gave us the ability to walk. 

Im whispering your name, Jesus, day by day, and I'm praying that you hold me close. Thank you for not letting me down, and for showing me a thousand words of love through so many little things. 

This is all over the place. But my heart is all over the place, and I promised to be real to you no matter what. It's celebratin and it's weeping and it's looking up at the sky and asking for grace and for more. More of You and more of Your goodness. 

Father, let my heart be after You.

I love you all. Galatians 21:6. 

an October nights prayer

I opened my blue book and it turned to a chapter called Space. I was pretty close to continuing on my way and flipping through this marvelous book until I found something that's applicable to what's actually going on in my life right now. But God planted His feet firmly and let me soak in words: words of peace and growth; words that said it was okay to sit. It's okay to do all the things that I said made me restless in my last blog. It's okay to create and find yourself and not be productive for a little while. It's okay. 

Father, don't leave me. Don't leave me when my life is filled with physical pain and mental restlessness. Give me contentness in the space that you have given me to expand and to learn and to rest, let me love it, every minute of it. Let me stop pushing away the gift that you gave me, let me stop trying to pay what I owe. Father thank you for showing me that I can't do it, I can't pay back something so enormous. Let me except what you've given me: life and freedom and joy. Give me a new perspective of You: one that lets me see You as not a lover of rules, but as a lover of me. Thank you for being my Beloved, and thank you for loving me so crazily and genuinely. I don't know how You do it, but man do I want to learn. Help me love, help me love You. Because I don't know how to love flawed people on my own, so I don't have a clue how to love my perfect Father in the way that He deserves. Lord, take away my desire to please people and help me fix my eyes on Y O U. 

Friends, I'm learning and loving that life is more than 7 hours of school followed by hours of homework and a perfect nights sleep. Life is abundant and full and meant for messy love that's so genuine it doesn't even make sense. 

And I'm so thankful that I get to learn about it. Thank you Father, for giving me more. You're crazy and you're awesome and I love you so much.

God bless you friends, because half of these words probably don't make much sense. But I hope that you get my point, the point that we get to find in this life. The day I start writing perfectly will be the day I have my crap together, and I'm pretty sure that won't be happening. I'm a mess. But I'm so loved and so thankful for it. 

Thanks for hanging on. -Lin 

A good Father

Before I start with this, I just want to admit that I don't know where this is going. Jesus tugged at my heart at a random time and faintly whispered, "let me write." 

Let's do this thang, Jesus. 

I haven't really felt a purpose lately.

God has let me fall, fall, fall, but He hasn't let me land on my face (hallelujah). But this morning, I was thinking about how I would rather be dusting myself off from that nasty tumble than sitting here right now. Just sitting. Just chilling. 

Just. Sitting. 

But The Lord (at another random time) said nope, this isn't how we're gonna do this one. WE. Him and me, me and Him. He said "I'm not gonna let you sit here. You have a purpose. But you have to let me show you." 

It sounds so simple. He tells me to sit back and relax, while He does the dirty work for me so that I'm comfortable and joyful. But it's been so hard for me. It's been hard to physically sit back (stupid back) and it's hard to let the most incredible love I know do something for me. To realize that this relationship between God and me isn't one-sided: He gets to serve me too. How freaking cool is that? 

I've been obsessed with this song that we sang at a Young Life camp a few weeks ago. It's called "Good Good Father": 

Oh well I've heard a thousand stories of what they think you're like

But I've heard the tender whisper of love in the dead of night

You tell me that you're pleased with me and that I'm never alone 

You're a good good Father

It's who You are

It's who You are

And I'm l o v e d by you

Thank you Jesus for being proud of me. Thank you for showing me that I am enough, even when I chant to myself that I'm nowhere close. Thanks for smiling at the chance of being able to catch me when I mess things up. Thanks for the grace that I get to see at my locker at school and in quiet moments in the car and in peaceful quiet times when the world isn't quite awake just yet. Thanks for holding me close, stroking my hand, and whispering how I'm your Beloved, no matter what. I don't warm myself with your love enough, Jesus. But man is it great. 

I've been focusing on the pain I feel instead of focusing on joy. And joy is such a better perspective. 

If you want prayers, text or DM or Facebook or call or whatever you want to reach me, whether it's for a test or for grace or for a friend or for you. Or if you just want to talk, I'd love that too. We're in this together, friends, and we weren't meant to do life alone. I'm here. 

Here's to letting myself be pulled from this chair and from this back brace into something beautiful. Here's to standing up and doing, to loving and living. Lord, you're such a good Father. Thanks for chasing me. 

-Lin 

He Shouted Love

This week has been good. But today was better. 

My mouth fell open a little more each time I saw the light. The light that fell through the trees so gracefully, the light that I saw in my friends, and the way my church radiated light this morning. At the end of the day, my jaw is happily resting at my feet. 

I've thought a lot about grace lately. I'm not trying to preach to you. Just trying to share what's been on my heart lately. 

I've realized how fragile grace is. But yet, how strong it has to be. How the grace that Jesus gave us through his beautiful wooden cross was so fragile, but so strong as it kept him up there, gasping for breath, yelling my name. Grace and so many other things are what kept him up on that torture device. His passion for us, His hope that we would be able to live in love, pursued by His grace. All because of a cross. 

My friend Abby that I met at Rockbridge (a Young Life camp) sent me a letter. And on the mouth of the envelope, she had written "He shouted love". It wasn't beautiful simply because of her incredible handwriting, it was beautiful because it was real. It wasn't a bitterly sweet worship song  that I hear on some Christian station too often. Some of the songs, though soft, pretty, and graceful, don't seem real to me. But these words did. I saw Jesus' cry through those words, I saw his pain. I saw his beautiful mouth, opened so wide, as He asked God for mercy on that dreary and beautiful day that the most selfless thing was ever done. I saw him. So joyfully reaching for me. 

But isn't that what he did? Shout love? Shout love as he saw the potential of our life? Shout love as he saw us transform, from seeing us yelling "crucify him! Crucify him!" to watching us getting on our knees, tears in our eyes, singing so the most beautiful praise? Seeing us able to finally see his light, and not only enjoying it, but longing for it? 

That's where I've been lately. Longing for love, trying my hand at grace. Looking for little things and for big things, trying to find new ways to love old friends and old, worn, and lovely ways to love new friends. I've tried to notice the way people treat me. I've tried to notice my moms body as she pulls me in for hugs that I don't get tired of, I've tried to watch the way my boyfriend rubs my back during painful times and holds my hand when there's too much joy to contain by yourself. I've watched my best friends folded hands rest on the worn tables of coffee shops as we pray for each other. I've tried to watch my dads feet as he comes home from work each day, so that we can have adventures with a carefree mind. I've tried to watch my teachers as they grade and grade and grade, so that when I get thrown into the world, I can land on my butt and stand up and do pretty darn good. I've been noticing and observing and loving it. 

Here's to longing for love. Here's for landing on your butt and looking down, only to see God's feet as He waits for you to let Him pick you up. Here's to community, because who knows where I would be without it and it's variations of love. Here's to Young Life and the best moments ever. And here's to grace, because Lord knows we need a lot of it. 

Thanks for loving me. 

-Lin 

oh my lord, your grace

I can't really say that ive been rejoicing lately. My heart hasn't felt it.

I can't say that the bags under my eyes havent begged for makeup, my back has longed for more ice than Antartica contains and more Advil than you can find in all the Walgreens combined. 

I can't say that my heart has been satisfied on a daily basis, or that I have been patient with my brothers and sisters in the Lord. I can't say that I've been a 1 Peter 3:3-7 girlfriend, or that I've been the most loving friend I could be. I can't say that I've read my bible everyday, and I most certainly can not say that I haven't wished that God would just give me a day off and call me back in the morning. 

You know me. I'm gonna talk about how I don't have my crap together, how My sweetest Jesus does, and how he sews my heart together yet again. I chant this to myself; it's my life story. 

I talked with a friend this Sunday. About how I've been cheating myself out of prayer and out of trust through my horrendous back. I was ashamed when I realized that I had been lying to myself and to God about His plan, about how when I thought I was putting my full trust into Him, I was just gritting my teeth and hoping that someone who's actually powerful would come rescue me from pain. 

Oh, but how my God loves. Oh, how He still winks at me daily through grandparents and flowers and hymns. But mostly, my heart is kneeling at His feet, because I've fallen short yet again, friends. But He picked me back up, dusted me off, and through me back into my little life so that I could find joy in Him yet again, and so that I could fail another time and come running back into His arms. My golly, my Father knows me too well. 

I thought it was kind of hard when pastors and friends and strangers would say that following Jesus is hard. I wanted to defend Him, saying that "I know you're strong, I don't believe what those mean peasants say about you." I wanted smirk at them, flex, and tell them how strong we would be together. How nothing would make me look back, and how nothing would ever be hard as I drowned in The Lords love. 

Lol how wrong I was. But at least I was right about one thing: you don't wish you could go back. 

Do I look back over my shoulder? Occasionally. Occasionally I begin to turn my head, and Jesus takes my chin in His gentle hands, so that I can feel the love coursing through His fingers, and I can feel the beloved wounds where the nails used to be. He lets me look at him and awe and wonder how I could ever leave something so precious and perfect. 

And I'm thankful for those looks that keep me going, that keep me waking up every morning at some ungodly hour. That keep the grace flowing into my heart and into the lives of my brothers and sisters that are so much more to me than that name. Man, am I thankful for grace. 

I hope you give yourself a break. I hope you run to where He calls you with the biggest grin on your face, and I hope that wen you trip on the way, that you let Him dust you off and help you start again. I hope you let Him, friend. 

kneeling at my cross yet again, 

        -Lin 

that dang white flag

Lord, hear me tonight.

The grace in my heart is low, and the amount of Your presence that I feel in my heart is just shy of empty, if I'm being painfully honest. I'm frantically searching for my white flag, as my wish is to throw it at your feet. The feet that were horrifically nailed to a shabby wooden cross; no place for a King like Yourself. The feet that walked many miles, touched many lives, and saw so much sin. I don't know how You did it.

A thought slid into my mind tonight as I sat on my bed. A thought, maybe two, maybe three, questioning my worthiness. Questioning whether or not this life was for me. The life of selflessness, the life of joy, the life of love: it makes me tired sometimes, and my weariness set in tonight. But The Lord decided to take up for me in the quiet way that sometimes angers me (why can't it all be floods and other painfully honest signs?). He quickly made the assessment that weariness is not a thing that needs a home in my heart, and He sent it away and sent my fingers to fly across this keyboard. And it made me kneel at his feet all the more.

I asked myself if this was the life for me. Living for a relationship that I'm not always too certain about, pouring my heart and time into a god that sometimes isn't as loud as I would like Him to be. Maybe I don't want my heart to be a servant's heart, maybe I just want it to be mine. Is that really a lot to ask? This one little piece of me? It can't be worth that much, which is the precise reason that I'm asking for it.

I had a long talk with a friend of mine named Ainsley. We talked about the heart, and how purely, skillfully, and wisely that The Lord created it. How He desired only the purest love come from it, and how that heart be rightfully His. We talked about how purity isn't just not having sex until you're married, but it's keeping your heart pure as well. Leaving it for the Creator to mend back into something beautiful. But I'm not here to preach to you about purity, or preach about anything, for the matter.

It's funny how God mends my heart, so quietly, so swiftly, and so precise. How He molds my restless into longing, my broken into beautiful. How He takes all the toxic acid that I thought might feel nice, and puts true joy in. How He breaks me in just the right way, so that I can be put together all the beautiful again by those glorious hands that won't stop no matter how much I protest. The Lord is so relentless, but so steady. I think that that's something the world and myself could learn a thing or two about.

So tonight I'm asking for bravery and for relentlessness. That I'm brave when it comes to following my sweet Jesus, and that I'm brave when I'm convinced that I can't see the Light anymore. That I'm relentless in my love for the Lord, and relentless when it comes to following Him.

I don't know what You see in me, Lord, that you would pay so much for. But I'm praying that I see it too. But that I see You first, front and center and in that big ole' spotlight, right where You belong and right where I need You.

And friends, don't ever never ever ever never think that for a second this is me writing. This is 100% Jesus, and -10000000000000% me.

Thank you for caring about these words.

-Lin

(P.S. throwing in the white flag doesn't solve anything; that's when the real fun (and joy and every wonderful thing you could possibly think of) starts to happen.

Amazing Love

To be honest, I didn't think that God would do anything to me this past week. 
I didn't think I had a large problem in life, I didn't think that I was broken, and I didn't really think that I had anything worth fixing. I didn't think that God would care enough to change me, and I didn't think He had the strength to knock down the walls that I have unknowingly created over time. The walls between the two of us. 

Isn't it funny how wrong God can prove us?

This past week (June 27-July3) I got to experience Jesus and grace and community and love in Virginia, at a Young Life camp called Rockbridge. I expected to be caught up in the games and the blob and the zipline; I think that everyone did. But we got caught up in God, and we found ourselves longing for more of Him even after club was over and we laid down on those tiny little beds in our oddly named cabins. I don't really know about everyone, but it surprised me. 

I've always put The Lord on my chore list. I made it a chore everyday to pray, I made it a chore everyday to read through the loveliest love story ever written. I dragged myself out of bed everyday and to God's feet, and as long as I'm being honest, I gave Him the best stank face I could muster. 

And oh how He grinned down at me. Oh how He gently wrestled with my heart while I sat on the steps of the club room at this haven of a camp, and oh how He tugged my heart out of my grasp and into His own. And oh, how I wept when He did. Oh how I allowed myself to be genuinely vulnerable for the first time in years, how I let myself be weak and let Him be strong for me. And oh friends, how good it felt. 

I think that I've done a pretty good job with putting on a front, considering the fact that I wasn't really knowledgeable of the fact that I had one. I worked so hard to make sure that everyone thought that I had it all together. My love language is words of affirmation, and I tried to give people something to praise. My perspective was that I didn't need to please God. The only words of affirmation I could receive from Him were in the Bible, and anyone can read that. 

"He died not for men, but for each man. If each man had been the only man made, He would have done no less." -C.S. Lewis 

Aren't those beautiful words?

One of the main discoveries that I made was God's personal and intimate love for me. How He knew all of my quirks, imperfections, freckles, and actions. Not because He feels that He has some sort of obligation to protect me and be my conscience, but because He has a love for me so incredible, sending His Son to die for me was only an expression of His love. An expression. I can't handle and comprehend His love, and I think He realizes that. He continues to fill me so that I can love other people, and love Him. He puts so much effort into our relationship, and this week I've learned that a relationship isn't one-sided.

My prayer is that I continue to be overwhelmed by my sheer brokenness, and then be overjoyed by His wholeness. Overwhelmed that He is enough for me, and my aching heart makes my Lord content.

I'm thankful for His love, His joy, and the way that His mind thinks. That I am enough, and that I am His, and only His.

I'm praying for you and Your relationship with God, whether it has been freshly created, or it has some age to it. I'm praying for me, and that "I don't forget what happened at camp."

These are a few writing/songs/quotes that are close to my heart and express me and my growing love for The Lord. Thank you to all of you guys that have the desire to read the words that The Lord writes through me, and to those of you that have asked where my blog has been. You guys love me so well, and I'm grateful! (heart eyes emoji)

Amazing love how can it be 
That you my God would die for me 
Amazing Grace how sweet the sound 
I come and lay my burdens down 

Amazing sight no longer blind 
You touched my eyes new hope I find 
Amazing Grace how sweet the sound 
I come and lay my burdens down 

Amazing joy I happy shout 
You took my dark and cast it out 
Amazing Grace how sweet the sound 
I come and lay my burdens down 

Amazing life forget the grave 
Jesus has died my soul to save 
Amazing Grace how sweet the sound 
I come and lay my burdens down 

Amazing help no more alone 
New family new heavenly home 
Amazing Grace how sweet the sound 
I come and lay my burdens down 

Amazing love how can it be 
That you my God would die for me 
Amazing Grace how sweet the sound 
I come and lay my burdens down  

after the rain

these past couple of weeks have been weird.
i'm almost done with my freshman year in high school (WHATTTTTT), and life has kind of done a 180 on me. I haven't showed up to The Lord in a while, and for that my heart is restless. But despite my running, i'm seeing as i write these words that He's allowed me to do some self-discovering and advance my self-worth through Him. and for that, i am thankful.

i've come across an obvious fact, and it's simply that you guys haven't met me yet. we've gone through faithful adventures and struggles together with The Lord by our sides, but i don't think that you and me have met yet. how could i forget?

my friend brenna did something like this on her blog, and i wanted to do something like it on mine. so thanks brenna, for being creative and for letting me run off of your ideas.

meet me in pinterest quotes and post-its that cover my room.
meet me in joy, and the joy we find through the one who created it.
meet me for a tervis cup of creamer with a dash of coffee (i know what i mean.)
meet me with an eno at the lake.
meet me with your self-doubt and insecurities, so that we can fend them off together.
meet me in your best, but don't be afraid to show up at your worst.
meet me with candles, brightly colored flowers, and letters about anything and everything.
meet me in your brokenness, because chances are i'm a little broken too.
meet me in hitchcock, because there's no such thing as too much exploring.
meet me in the booth at moes, with your hands full of quesadillas (i'm there at least twice a week)
meet me in the back row at church on sunday, struggling to grasp what is being said but still trying.
meet me full of vulnerability, so that God can shape us into something beautiful. (i promise it'll happen)
meet me in the stress that i create for schoolwork, even though most of it's not due for another two weeks.
meet me with a roo cup, so that we can drink our body weight in slushies together.
meet me in the words that people have so gracefully strung together to create worship for my Father.
meet me when you're blaming yourself for every little thing, because i'm a pro.
meet me on wednesday nights upstairs, when my heart is filled to the brim with happiness and contentedness.
meet me on sunny sundays when your heart is full of adventure.
meet me on rainy saturdays so we can complain together, because i hate those too.
meet me when you need a hand to hold and another heart to be with.
meet me for the bachlorette (#teamkaitlyn)
meet me with sweatshirt blankets and more iced coffee.
meet me at the foot of the cross. i promise (double pinky swear) that i'll be there.

i haven't met God much this week. even though i said in my last blog post that i would. and it makes me so joyful that He's still waiting, and even though i'm late, He's waiting for me to jump into His arms as i so love to do. He' s  waiting for me to realize where i need to be, and in His arms is just the place.

i ask that you pray for me, that you'll pray for me to have the strength to show up, to let myself be found, and for my heart to be still in the One that gave it all so that i could bring my heart, no matter it's state, to Him.

this is quite possibly my worship song to sing, and i wanted to incorporate it into this:

i'll find you there:
When I needed love
When I needed peace
When I needed understanding
I found You there

When I needed hope
When I needed strength
When I needed someone who cares
Lord, I found You there

Lord You made me laugh
even when I felt like crying
Lord You made me sing even
when my heart was achin'

When I needed love
When I needed peace
When I needed understanding
Lord, I found You there

When I needed hope
When I needed grace
When I needed one more chance
Lord I found You there...

Lord You made me laugh
even when I felt like crying
Lord You made me sing
even when my heart was achin'
Lord, you let me hide in You
when the sky was ragin'
I know the sun always shines... After the rain

So now I sing to you...

I'll find You there, (Lord I know it's true)
I'll find You there, (cuz' I believe in You)
I'll find You there, (oh, Lord)

thanks for reading, friends, and i'm glad we got to meet.

kneeling at the foot of the cross,
                                                             lin

(p.s.-the reason all my words aren't capitalized is that it's the end of the school year and i'm tired/lazy. sorry not sorry)

I got called out today.

Riding home from my favorite place with two of my favorite people, The Lord stirred my heart and caused a restlessness within me that, as I write this, is starting to settle down. 
I mean, that's gotta be something. So, everything's settled, right God? I'm good?

WRONG. WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG, 1000x WRONG.



I got my life ripped out from under me this year. I cried, I hurt, I cry, and I still hurt. Which is precisely my point: I'm broken. If I was God, Lindsay Carroll would be the first person out on the street, and the last person to be associated with the word 'kingdom', or 'child'. Lindsay Carroll would be the one weeping and begging with no persuasion, the one that everyone else acts like they don't see because they don't want to be apart of that broken mess. If I was God, Lindsay Carroll wouldn't even be a thought in the back of my mind. 

But we can rejoice over the fact that I'm not God, or we would live in a world of utter chaos and I guarantee you that we would all be screwed. Wow. I have chills at that horrifying thought. 

Before you start getting annoyed with my all-over-the-place writing, I'll go ahead and clarify:
The Lord questioned me about what makes me content, what I hide in, and what I find worth in. 

And let me just tell you, friends. That's the most difficult question you could ask me. 
I could give you some sugar, spice, and everything nice answer, but I'd be lying to myself and to you. And if I do that, I might as well shut this laptop and delete the entire blog, because that's not what I'm here to do. 

Pride. I find worth in pride. Grades, ooooo how good grades feel so good. Words of affirmation from people. Assurance. Friendships. Body-images. Beauty. Other people liking me. I could go on and on, I double-pinky swear.
The word God was not in that pathetic list once. Neither was love, serving others, all the kind of things I find The Lord in. I run from Him so much, and try to keep a solid distance from Him so I don't have to go through anything hard, anything that might require a drop of faith or a little risk in knowing I'm not in control. But the only thing worse than running is sticking around for that pathetic first list, the one I'm not proud of, the one I don't always like to own up to.

But thankfully, this blog, this story of mine, isn't about me because if it was, it wouldn't sell. This story is about God, and I like to think that it's a bestseller.
And friends, this is such a hard story to write. I'm sitting here typing, wondering if the letters that I push are the right ones, and if this is exactly how God wants it. But I've been learning lately that The Lord is content with my broken heart. I find it funny that I'm the one that has to learn to be content with Him, the God of the Universe that has everything. I'm the one learning to be content with so much, while He is in love and overjoyed by so little. It's amazing and incomprehensible, and beautiful and ironic.

"It's crazy, if you think about it. The God of the universe-the Creator of nitrogen and pine needles, galaxies and E-minor- love us with a radical, unconditional, self-sacrificing love. And what is our typical response? We go to church, sing songs, and try not to cuss." -Francis Chan

I challenge you, sweet friends, to let go a little more and to give Him a little more. To bask in the glory and incredibleness that is Our God, and to spend a little more time with the one that died to be able to be with you. Let your self be in awe; that's where you will find me, right now.

(P.S.- You know me, I didn't read over this so I hope it'll do!)

Love, lindsAy. 

digging my escape route

I don't want to be up right now writing this. Sorry, but it's true.

If I got to have my way, I would have happily turned off Carrie Underwood's voice that wakes me up every morning so that I could sleep for another crucial hour. But God gently tugged at my heart this morning to write, and He gave me that little nudge I needed to get myself out of bed and share with you. Share what? I'm not sure, but I guess we're both about to find out at the end of this, because I have no clue. The Lord sure does though, and I'm kind of pumped to find out.
But friends, that crucial hour of sleep didn't happen this morning, and I couldn't be happier about it (never ever NEVER thought I would say that).

I've been trying a lot lately to focus on showing up, because that's one place (though there are a lot) where I fall short. If we're being honest, I don't show up at doctor's appointments, because sometimes I hide behind a wall of annoyance and a negativity. I don't always show up when I'm with people, because I hide behind a wall of strength so that I'm not vulnerable. Sometimes I even show up in the wrong place because I'm so lost. And sometimes, I simply hide behind a computer screen to try to write about how okay I am. Ironic, right? Because I can't say that I am.

BUT LET'S SHOUT FOR JOY BECAUSE WE DON'T HAVE TO BE!

We don't have to be strong enough to take on every day, to have a smile on our faces every morning, and to always show up where we're supposed to be. Let's face it, I usually don't. But our God is a strong God, and He just happens to have a knack for showing up in the right place at the right time.

I'm not strong enough. I don't care how tired you get of me saying that by the end of this writing, but I'm not. But my God is, and I'm trying to learn how to hide behind Him, something that won't let me down, the way pride or compliments or sports or beauty or any other number of things will.

"He says, 'Be still, and know that I am God." -Psalm 46:10

That verse doesn't say "Be still, and know that I am God.... if you are beautiful."
That verse doesn't say "Be still, and know that I am God..... if you are athletic."
That verse doesn't say "Be still, and know that I am God..... if you've got it all together."
That verse doesn't say "Be still, and know that I am God...... if you're #1 in your class."'

God is our God in our weakness, our strength, our highs and our lows. That's kind of the beauty of it, isn't it? The fact that I don't have to be strong, because Someone Else out there is strong enough, and there are no if's, and's, or but's to it.

So I ask today that you leave with this if nothing else: He's gonna show up. It might not feel like it, but I haven't ever spoken anything more true. It's a truth I've had to chant to myself recently, but it's a truth that I've been clinging to, because it's only been a little while that I've been able to hold on to these words, simply because before, I'm not sure I believed them. I'm not sure I believed that The Lord could heal me, or provide an escape route from this, what felt like, hopeless season of life.

When I think of escape routes, I always think about those little tunnels like they used to dig in "Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide", one of those old shows that I used to always watch with my brother (I don't know how familiar you are with Ned's Declassified, but get familiar.) When Ned & his friends needed to get somewhere (and when they weren't in class, which was never) and there didn't seem like any other way, they would dig these tunnels through the walls to reach where they wanted to go.

The reason I say that is because I firmly believe that The Lord is digging away at my escape route for me, and digging away at yours too, whatever it may be from. But talk to me if you don't completely believe that The Lord's going to show up. I didn't believe it recently. I didn't believe it yesterday. But today I am confident and assured, and it feels so joyful and good to know that I don't have to try to carry something so heavy around, for, I will say it again, The Lord is strong enough. And no amount of persistence, struggle, or belief will change that.

Thanks for listening to me ramble and ramble, and I pray that whatever burdens you, whether it be school-related stress, friendships, or physical pain, I pray that it be taken away by whatever means The Lord calls it to be. Let yourselves be carried by The Lord this Thursday.

-Lindsay [1 Thessalonians 5:16]

Walking on Sunshine and Grace

Hi friends.
I never really know how to start these off, or what to talk about, or how to talk about it. But today I am sure, and that pleases me. But the tricky part is how to say it, so let's see how this goes.

I just wrote a ton of words and deleted them. Because they sounded sad, sympathetic, and that's not what I live for. I live for joy. And that's why today, I'm not gonna tell you about all the things that have gone wrong this year/month/week. We all have problems, and I don't expect you to take the time of day just to read about mine.
What I want you to read about is how much I've learned through trial. About how I've learned that other people and their opinions don't matter, about how much I've been idolizing worldly things, and how much I need God, because I'm not strong enough to do life by myself, no matter my physical state. I'm constantly falling apart, and I need a rock to hold me together and to not let go. And I've learned this through a pretty large trial in life, and I could not be more thankful for it.
I've learned how much I'm loved, and how the cost of me was worth it. I've learned about joy, and how sometimes it's hidden pretty deep, but still present.
I've learned that I'm a hot mess, and it takes some awesome people to love me. And I've learned how thankful I am for them.
I've learned that I'm right where I need to be. And after searching so long to find something to put your heart into, what it feels like to be content.

So if you don't get anything out of the jumble of words that I just wrote, please stop reading with this: You aren't forgotten, and He hasn't left. You are loved. There is always something to rejoice over. And though this world is beautiful, it's not satisfying. It's alright to be broken, and it's alright to drink too much coffee.

Celebrate today, in whatever way that fits you best. We're broken and bruised, and I'm choosing to show the ways I'm blessed by writing everything that made me fall to show you how He caught me. Thanks for letting me ramble, sweet friends.

"The sky could fall, the ground could shake, the stars burn out, and seasons change, time will pass and beauty fade, but all my love will remain. -Royal Tailor 

Today We Rejoice

On this beautiful Sunday, I sit resting. Resting in God's grace, resting in His strength, resting because I am tired. And while life won't give me a break, The Lord thankfully does. 

I could go on and on. I could preach to you about the past few months, the struggle, the meltdowns, the tiredness, and a lot more. But I'm not going to. Because that's not me, and I don't feel like that's what I'm being called to do. 

Ever since I was little, I loved sunshine. I would ask my mama every single day if it was gonna be "sunshiney". And every single day, no matter the weather, she told me yes. 

And I can't thank her enough for the realization that I've come to. 

I feel like that's what God has called me to. The fact that on rainy days, bad days, and good days, He is my sunshine, my happiness. And I can think of nothing as beautiful as that statement right there.

So, friends, today I rejoice over every big and little thing that's sunshiney. Because life's too short to focus on the rain.

I rejoice over family, no matter the shape or size or strength.

I rejoice over music that's too loud, and candles that are too strong.

I rejoice over daddies that get rid of the spiders.

I rejoice over sweet and stubborn boyfriends that never let you pay.

I rejoice over the days when God shows off in ways I didn't even know He could.

I rejoice over friends that put words together so beautifully that you get a new perspective.

I rejoice over YoungLife leaders that know just what you need.

I rejoice over sleepless nights writing on this thing and never knowing who it's affecting, or if it even is.

I rejoice over decisions. Decisions that you have had too much of and you finally just give them to God to let Him do what He wants.

I rejoice over siblings, stupid snapchats, and distance (even though that's a hard one).

I rejoice over Monday mornings at New Moon and smelling like coffee all day at school.

I rejoice over the act of singing at the top of your lungs to that favorite worship song, and that favorite Maroon 5 song that you haven't listened to in years.

I rejoice over the fact that my blood is probably gonna turn into queso sometimes soon.

I rejoice over change, and how it seems to suck, and how something beautiful always comes out of it.

I rejoice over simplicity, and a life full of it, and how it helps me see God better, even when I don't want to. And lastly, I rejoice over the fact that The Lord sees me not as someone all over the place, but someone worth saving. And God knows I need it.

So, today I ask that you join me in rejoicing, even though it's one of the hardest things to do. Because Jesus never promised that life wouldn't suck. It will at some point, I guarantee it. But He did promise that we would never have to walk alone through the storm that life brings upon us. And I truly think that that is something to rejoice over.

the god that doesn't get tired

hi friends. lindsay again.

I've written six of these in the attempt to get the perfect one. Which kind of goes along with my life lately, chasing perfection and shenanigans like that. Which, as I've so conveniently learned while I've written six of these that have ended up in the trash, is impossible and insulting to The Lord that made me perfectly. To The Lord that made me with my stubbornness, my different colored eyes, my desire to do things the right way, my back that just won't stop, the sensitivity in my heart, and who-knows how many more things that are knit together just right to make me up.

But back to that whole perfection thing that my heart gets the wrong idea about. That perfection thing that my heart sometimes mistakes as humanly praise instead of Jesus. It gets a little confused sometimes, and so do I. But I'm not supposed to be able to do this on my own, and I'm not gonna act like I can, though sometimes I want more than anything to be able to. I'm not gonna act like I don't want to be the perfect girlfriend, the sister that calls her siblings daily (sorry guys, you know I love you), the friend that hangs out with everyone the perfect amount, or the teenager that wakes up on time every morning and gets her hair just right every single time. Because Lord knows that that's not me. Sometimes I don't do enough (or too much) in Garrett and I's relationship, sometimes I talk too much (no shocker)  when my whole family gets to be together, sometimes I hold grudges, and sometimes I wake up 30 minutes before I'm supposed to leave (and I can't say I'm sorry about it either) and a lot of times my appearance does what it wants. And a lot of times, it doesn't particularly concern me. 

But to be honest, friends, I don't see anything wrong with that. I don't see anything with being so me that I have to be held together by the glue that is Jesus, and have to be carried a lot of the time. I stumble, I fall, and I do a whole lot of other ungraceful things because when it comes to faith, I'm a klutz. But fortunately for me, Jesus is steady. On the rainy days, the sunny days, the happy day, and the sad days, He is steady all of the time and I'm learning that that's a thing to rejoice over, because I'm not even close, no matter how hard I try. And friends, when I fall, it isn't pretty.

I think I've been trying to busy myself too much lately. I got sick of everyone having plans and tournaments to go to, just because I physically can't right now. It's messed with me more mentally than it has physically, and I'm shaken up right now. And angry, extremely angry. Angry that I can't be good enough, and angry that I can't do the things right now that everyone else gets to. But, in a weird way, I'm also thankful for that. I've gotten a reality check that I'm not gonna be good enough. And it's a hard fact to realize, no matter how many times I type it. But fortunately, my God is one that finished what He starts, and one of those things just so happens to be me. 

This blog is all over the place and I'm all over the place. I'm praying for you, friends, that you'll come to whatever realization that you need to come to so that you can be happy, because we weren't put on this world to wallow in our own sorrow. And I don't intend to do that. So hold me to that, and I'll hold myself to the prayers that I promised would be said. 

We're broken, we're blessed, but thanks to the god that doesn't get tired, we're pretty beautiful. 

(And ps: I'm rebelling against the dreadful  back brace that has been mentioned in previous posts. Stay tuned.) 

Rejoice, my friends, for The Lord is good!

And He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden I am unaware of the afflictions eclipsed by glory
And I realize just how beautiful You are and how great your affections are for ME.

On this beautiful afternoon, I sit at my piano belting out these beautiful words. Belting them out when I should be in school, but instead I am home by myself and full of Advil, M&M's, uninteresting terms of biology, and still wearing that dreadful back brace. But that's ok. I'm doing pretty swell.

I've been thinking a lot about what I want this blog to be about, and what I don't want it to be about. I have been thinking about the words I want to say and how to say them, and what I want those words to portray about myself and about The Lord. Still haven't figured what I want this thing to be about (indecisive is my middle name), but I have figured out what I don't want it to be about. I don't want it to be about complaints. 1 Thessalonians 5:16 is the shortest verse in the Bible, but one of the hardest to apply to life. "Rejoice always". In my mind, we have two ways we can live life: we can rejoice a l l t h e t i m e, or we can sit and wallow in our own sorrow and complain. It's HARD to rejoice all the time. It's the last thing in our minds when things don't go our way in life (which, let's face it, is all the time) But The Lord has called us to be joyful, and joyful is a pretty sweet thing to be.

But anyways. Back to my piano and my sunny afternoon.

There are pictures hanging on the walls in the room that the piano is in of me and my two brothers as itty bitty kids. As I sang my little heart out to The Prince of Peace, I rejoiced over my life. I rejoiced over my brokenness,and how cool it's gonna be when I understand why some of the things that are happening right now are happening, and how the brokenness will become beauty. I sang for the little things, for the big things, for love, for hope, for my loving grandparents, for my beautiful and genuine YoungLife leader, for my sweet, sweet brothers, for my parents who are and have always done everything in their power to keep me at my happiest and healthiest, for my boyfriend who I don't brag on enough, for my friends at their best and my friends at their worst, for new seasons of life, for spare time, and for trust. Trust that is in the future and what it will hold for me, but more importantly who holds it for me. Wowza. That's a comforting thought.

I don't have everything together. In fact, there isn't much that I do have together. But I take delight in that, in the same way that Jesus takes delight in my pitchy voice and in my sinful self.

And that, my friends, is something to rejoice over. 

We are broken, we are bruised, but we are blessed. I write this blog as a promise to myself that I will live this life and focus on the good that is God. 

Lindsay and the no good, horrible, very bad week. (broken and tired, but still good enough)

Hi, friends.
As dorky and cliche as this may sound, I'm still getting used to this so bare with me as much as your patience will allow. I felt a calling to make a blog and share the ways that God is continuously working in my life. So hopefully this gives at least one person hope, comfort, or peace, because then my lack of sleep and social interaction will have paid off. So if you're that one person, or even maybe two, know that this is me serving The Lord by serving you. 

I've had a rough week. I've cried endless amounts of tears, dirtied the sleeves of countless shirts, and thought a lot more than the average human probably should. But that's ok; I'm not supposed to be able to do this on my own. 

Since you don't know me personally, you obviously don't know anything about me (I swear this awkward small talk will talk soon, I just have to get comfortable). So I'll sum up me real fast:
-I'm not good at speaking but I'm extremely good at writing (once again, a w k w a r d)
-I play volleyball. All. Year. It never stops and I'm pretty content with that.
-I'm a sister, a daughter, a best friend, a girlfriend, and a child of The Lord.
-My L5 and L6 discs in my back are bulging and have degenerative disc disease. I'm no doctor, but it basically means that the two bottom discs in my back are running out of stuff to keep them from rubbing against each other.

The reason I tell you this last part is because it's playing an extreme role in my life right now and controlling me a lot more than I would like for it to, which brings me back to Lindsay and The No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Week. 

Decisions have had to be made. And I'm a pretty indecisive person, which might have had an effective on the amount of breakdowns I've had. I'm also a pleaser. I like for people to like me, and I like to be VERY good at what I do, whether it's a coloring sheet or an exam. I'm a perfectionist, and I get uncomfortable when I don't get things right.

Fortunately for me, I've learned about life this week: it doesn't go smooth and it doesn't go your way. I saw "fortunately" because I think it's a good thing. I think it's a marvelous thing to have your own little bubble that you're so comfortable in popped because while inside there, you get this insane idea that you don't need anyone. And I was reminded by The Lord this week how wrong and ignorant I am. If it takes my eyes to be cried dry and my world to be turned upside down, so be it. I've learned this week who I really need to please, and it's not a coach, a parent, a sibling, or a boyfriend. It's The Lord of the Universe, The Prince of Peace, The Son of God, and the one that died to show me just how precious I am to Him. THAT is who I aim to please. 

I have lived my whole life with this one habit of pleasing people and working towards worldy things that don't matter. But God is pushing me in a new direction filled with more sunshine and love. I read somewhere that God is doing thousands of things in our lives and we probably know of about three of them. I trust in this and in the Word that The Lord has gifted us with. 

So pray for me, friends, as I continue to make more decisions (which means more procrastination, I know some of you understand), find more understanding, and try to find the way to get all the letters in my head untangled and into a story I can share with you that gives you hope and proof that The Lord is good. And as I sit here in a back brace with endless emotions running through my heart, I still witness that the Lord is good. 

Pastor Dave:  Sometimes you don’t make any sense.
Reverend Jude:  And sometimes you make too much sense.  Just remember… God is Good…
Dave:  All the time.  
Reverend Jude:  And all the time…
Dave:  God is good.
               -God's Not Dead
I'm a mess, I'm broken, and I'm tired, but somehow I'm still good enough in Jesus' eyes. Thanks for letting me write, friends, I'm at peace. 

P.S.- I'm sorry if there are mistakes in this, but if I read back over this I know for sure that I'll take something out and I want to go all out with this.(Promise I'm done now.) Thanks for listening to my randomness.