Noise. Rush. Running. Striving. Working. Proving. Trying. Jumping. Leaping. Risking. Rushing. Snap. Decide. Know. Before you actually know. Take what you can. Do what you must. Follow your heart.

Stop. Silence. Wait. Seek. Peace.

Sometimes the things that God asks us to do don't make sense. Sometimes he invites us deeper into his upside down world, even when it hurts and we don't understand. I don't understand how all of this is going to pan out. He said once or twice that he would provide, but it is hard, makes my stomach hurt to wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Look at how the lilies of the field grow, he says, how they never worry or spin and yet they are dressed in greater splendor than all of Solomon's court. Just take a few minutes and look. Stop and admire them. Breathe in and enjoy the air I've made for you.

Sometimes the Father asks us to do things that we wouldn't do on our own. HJow we do things over and over again, expecting different results. Insanidty, they call that. Stop the insanity, I think he is calling out. Stop following your understanding and listen to me. You asked for peace, you aske for rest, you asked for a way and I've given it. So stop.

Some days it's easy. It's easy on those days when my day is full and I can come home and watch American Idol. But others days, like today, it is hard and I need to grieve and I need to be reminded that it is hard and that things have not been fair, regardless of how life really works. I sat there on the couch and felt each tear fall, curling around my cheeks and caress my chin. It hurts. It's frustrating when our dreams take us on paths that feel impossible with the thorns brushing our skin along the side of the way.

You have called me to this-- I can see that. You have placed this broken place in my heart for children like me, kids who need to hear what I heard. But it feels so impossible and I don't know how I am going to make it. I don't know where the bread will come from tomorrow, but somehow I can't abandon this dream that you have put in me.

Sometimes following the Son is very hard-- perhaps it is not what we bargained for. I've said often that I choose to give up my security. I did what I did to teach myself a lesson in trust-- and now I wonder who's idea it was to put me through this pain. I've followed my heart and it is a hard path-- far from easy, simple, or secure. But I feel this integrity deep and it is important; sometimes following what I know is right for my heart is not soft or reasonable. You said following you would be hard. But you said it would bring the full like that you meant for us, what was really meant for us.

You said if we followed you, we would be hungry, and we would be hated, but you said it would bring the best life we've ever had. The son of man had no place to lay his head. I think about that a lot-- long for the freedom, but shrink from the pain, the hardship, the cold, the hunger. I'm doing the best I can, but it doesn't seem enough. It sometimes seems like these dreams are too much, my arms too short, my strength exhausted. How will I walk on? How will tomorrow happen?

You say you will only lead step by step. You gave them bred for the day, plenty for the 24 hours pan, no more. You kept adding the flour each day, even when it looked bare. And here I am, tired. Wondering. Hurting. how could they do this? It is as if no one cares, no one understands, the plight of many is on the hearts of few. I know I am not alone, but it seems there is nothing to be done. It is hard.

Sometimes following doesn't make sense. Like flying upside down in a right-side up world. But I want to follow you, I said that. I want to be close to you and I want to hear your voice. I asked you for the strength, the time, the energy, to find myself, to look into your eyes and so you took away all that made it so hard. I asked for two things and you gave the harder of the two, but the essential. The hurt feels so good. The tears that fall on a shoulder as you caress, saying, "I will never forget that moment when I carried you through the rain. The night you sat on the couch, tears falling, hands holding, eyes closed. Hearing my voice. Words of love and acceptance, the reminder of my own approval. That time you felt my hands in hers, my inflection in them. I will remember this. "

Sometimes the road he calls us to walk is unfamiliar and far from the sound of this world. But I am realizing that this is the route that I want-- I've missed this place close to His heart, I've missed the callouses on His hands as He leads me on. It's been long since I've seen this scenery and I am thankful for the reminder. Through everything, I've begun to find a new family of embraces in the old coffeehouse, the arms of mentors and friends who know what it is like to hurt too. I see a new road forged, a new community formed that perhaps has been borne out of so many hard roads. And I don't really think that I want anything different.

lead on.