i guess posts dont matter.

i finally got to sit in my room today.
with a closed door.
my own music.

it was beautiful, because it was still.

i work at a camp called passport as a director and it blows my mind in every way. its exhausting, but its beautiful. in the weirdest of ways, its healing, but i suppose thats because i want it to be. because i am at a place where i hope it will be.

its been a long time since ive been in a leadership position from the front. ive taken jobs that serve from beneath and below, and now im in charge. im learning & relearning a lot. ive realized what fuels my beliefs & ive found my voice again. its really nice.

i love to pray. i forgot that. or squelched it, im not sure. stifled, strangled, or lost, it has been found again. i pray in front of campers on a daily basis & it has reminded me that i like pray. that God listens. and that its not in vain.

i guess thats it, if you can call it that. i still love my music. im still on hiatus from my life. but im doing just fine & im grateful for that.

something like the middle east.

im half way through a trip in the middle east & my head swims as much now as we did in the dead sea. and for the record, that included mostly floating, and a lot less swimming.

at some point there will be pictures, once i figure out where i was when i took them, but this has been more about observing & imagining than documenting. I'm rooming with april hoelke and mostly we laugh and talk. havent turned the tv on yet. honestly at this point, im not sure that ill ever buy cable. i just dont care enough.


 .the day before we left, as i packed my bags, bri & sarah sat on my bed laughing. i took a phone call on the porch & when i came back in, they suggested going to charleston in the morning since i no longer had to ride the train. the currie alarm clock in the back of my head was screaming margins and initially i listened. but once i finished packing i said to hell with it because bri was moving and it was going to be the last time for a while. we'd go for the sunrise and be back before lunch time. it was a suicide trip, but i dont regret it in the least. went to bed & woke up at 2 to start the drive. got some gas, picked up bri, got sarah & drove over to stacies. so funny. dead of the night. recently ive wanted to do an early morning drive. there is a stillness in the early hours that is unlike any other time . it is beautiful and profound & i feel the Lord the most in those moments. we swam & skinny dipped beneath a blazing orange sky. it was incredible & liberating. something like feminists. its not something i would normally do, but there is something about salt water on your skin that heals. where rest is found. in good company. i was dead tired on my trip to israel but i was peaceful & happy. sometimes you do crazy things with the people you love if for no other reason than it says "i love you too". life has bee good to me

.

"we wandered through as restless reckless little wrecks
watching every footfall caressing every step
to the bottom of that path that lead our head past moments where we'd wept
past the erie haunted taverns of hollowed out regrets
pigeon holes of beds in which we once slept
waltzing past them once more with no promise of our rest
we walked onward and inward, grazing sleeping demons
wondered if we meant the vows we'd sworn
swollen feet in weathered shoes battered clothing torn
but seuss was not here in the shadows
nor was there much light, save the end
but walk onward we must for fear of regressing into second guesses
move forward and march on
through the fogs and the mist
through the memories, where we wrested ourselves from monsters
or they rested themselves in us
for now
for more
for better or worse
forlorn
walk on faithful soldier
walk on to the end of your rope
tie a knot or let it go
both will end in rest eventually
but in the trenches of silence we ourselves knew the truth
there would be no rest till the demons were wrestled
till we had succumb to the battle cry heard from the beginning of time
come one, come all, come here now
yes ma'am i will, standing as straight as these weathered bones would allow
and so we marched onward, tempted by the tempest in our wounded watery hearts
the ocean stirred and we moved, again and again
we are nothing new but not yet old
waiting, writhing, wondering once more
we would get there in time
in time we would be
inches from war in the calm of the sea"

gracious.

its a month later, and a thousand things past. last night, a group of us sat down on the raggedy couches of the decrepit coffee shop to study together. we accomplished what we needed to and laughed in between. it was nice to sit between several women in my life who are so different, but wired similarly. we rotated around the couches, and processed through the funny things we watched.

i was so grateful. 

this season of life has been rich on both sides. some running, some sitting, some resting. but always in great company. i have great friends from undergrad, and that lineage has continued. logan, bri and hannah are moving at some point in the next couple of months. i thought about it the other day and got so sad. and equally, was so happy. grateful that these people have moved deeply into my life and nestled their ways into my hearts. that my heart has healed enough to feel and to love. to connect with people i care for. and equally, who care for me. some of the time we spend it marked by conversation, and some of it is marked by silence. by sitting and being near, and in some cases, sleeping. its peaceful and it is filled with grace. there are these moments of stillness where i sit with the Lord and i say thanks. i see the spaces where there is now fullness, knowing it will soon be absence. and one day that absence will be adjusted, which is not the same as being filled. even if you fill a hole with cement, you still remember what was there, which means its never really gone. especially if you were around to see what once filled the hole. there are places in my life that are full. the community i live with fills them well, and tenderly at that. patiently.

i say the same things over and over. i repeat myself, sometimes because my memory is shoddy, but often times because i want to reinforce what is important. and to remember the things that i value, for better or worse. the Lord fills my life with grace through friendship. through other things too, in fairness, but mostly through good friends. through time and conversation. through love. im a typical ENFP, and i think everything in life is about relationships. the best life is a loved life. even upon definition, everything in the entire world is about relationships. how every object, concept, movement, stillness, etc interacts with something else. even an island is moved by the waves. even the stars are pulled by gravity. even the valleys get filled. nothing goes untouched. everything relates to something else. every person is moved, constantly. we are fluid and things change us, but we remain who we are. some things are for better and some things are not. we fill the space we are given. we are in constant contact with the world, no matter how much we might hate it. our brain just filters out the consciousness of it. but its still there. our bodies still interact and adjust, even if we don't acknowledge our environment. i wasnt awake for my surgeries, and yet my body responded, even weeks afterwards. even when you sleep, your body moves to find comfort, and to move away from what it doesnt want. at least in a physical sense. we live in constant tension. we stand up straight, in spite of gravity's strength pulling us down. equal and opposite reactions. we are always coming and going, even if we are sitting still, because times moves and we move within time. and the same is true for every person we meet, even those we will never know.

i have these amazing people in my life. they love me well, and i aspire to love them well in return. i am learning good love, good faith, the good fight. i am learning the good. i have seen the bad, and i will see it again. but to know good and to hold it while you walk through the bad is a new and beautiful thing. i know that i can walk into a room of friends and they will read me and know things without me needing to say them. i know that i can shoot a text and the appropriate response will come back. i know that i can talk to some of my friends, and respond with a full tank of gas. i think that is part of what it means to relate in love. not that everyone is responsible for the perfect response every time. but that sometimes, we do know what is best. what will love the most, and what will be received well. and to know that even if we miss it completely, it is not any less loving. there is grace in all of it.

there is something warm about being loved. warmth is a reminder of life. its been chilly recently and the coffee shop wasnt freezing, but it wasnt warm. one of my friends on the couch had cold feet, and i had extra socks with me. as silly as it is, those socks are really important to me. they are my warm socks, and often times they are called my 'jon myer' socks, because he rocks those salt and pepper bad boys like its his job. they are warm and well worn. but they are not important for those reasons. i cant remember if it was my 3rd or 4th surgery, but in either case, i was really upset. and sad. and cold in the hospital bed. i had gotten out of surgery and woken up with grief that sat on my chest like bricks. when you have surgery in your abdomen, moving is not a possibility. so physically and metaphorically, i could do nothing. ive got poor circulation, so my feet were really cold. the nurses put blankets on me to warm me up, but my feet were so cold. my mom sat in the room with me while she waited for me to feel okay enough to go home, which is all i wanted to do. she loved me well and was patient. she ached for me cause she loves me. she brought these warm socks with her, and put them on my feet, because i couldnt reach my own toes. i wore those socks for the next week while i stared at the ceiling asking the Lord, why? they are warm and loving. so as silly as it is, those socks are important. they were for warmth. it also gave us a good laugh because bri typically dresses well, being the trendy welsh nashvillian she is. the socks clashed, but it mattered not because they were warm. and often times, that is the most important. we are a motley crew, but we love well and are loved in return.

"cause you said ours were the lighthouse towers

the sand upon that place

darling ill grow weary happy still

with the just memory of your face

gracious goes the ghost of you

and i will never forget the plans and

silhouettes you drew here and

gracious goes the ghost of you

my dear."

conference for a sport not my own.

we all walk away from the things that we love
praying meanwhile that all was enough.

watch it.

the other day in nashville, i was trying on clothes and my watch broke. at first i was sad, cause i prefer a digital watch to the alternative. but maybe God was intentional in that too.

the last few weeks have been healing in nature and challenging in content. but for the better. when im processing in life, my hands are always close to my face. its a thinking thing. but either way, with my face sitting in the crook in my hand, i cannot escape the ticking sound next to my ear. it is slow and steady, and it is consistent. it draws me back to my seat instead of floating around somewhere else in the world. it reminds me that my heart is still beating and that i am still alive. that i am still moving forward. hopefully moving forward more than moving away.

i still dont like the watch because i would ruin it if i took a shower and left it on. but i can appreciate it for its purpose. i can say thanks cause its from God and that is good enough for me.

orange sky.

finally back at the webb after a visit from home. ive been flooded with love and overwhelmed in grace. my life has been funny, but ive been participating more instead of sitting back and observing. or something like it.

sweet songs rescue me from forgetting the good that surrounds me. im happy where i am. im dating a pretty great guy, which im thankful for. ive still got a job and most days, i like it. i went home and got just enough sun on my cheeks to remember where i came from. born of the sea, always and forever. my name means child of the sea, or harbor. its pretty cool cause dad is from ireland, mom is from long island, they met on a cruise ship and i was born at TGH, which is right on the water. the open water is good to me, and it has always been that way.

love is still an ocean. and flo was right, the arms of the ocean delivered me. when i went home, i saw the most profound sunset with my dad. i was his daughter, simple as that. the sky had every color in brilliant streaks. explosions in the sky. unreal. a few days later, i went surfing with a few old friends. it was so cold, but it was worth it. i caught one measly wave, but it redeemed every other face plant. its not bad to be thrown around by the waves sometimes. to remember to put your arms over your head and let the water take you. life is like that sometimes. you dont know which direction youre fighting against, so the best you can do is keep your hands up. its not a bad thing. not even a desperate place. but its a pretty good reminder that you're not always in control, and you cant always see the shore, even if youre headed that way. God is still funny.

i drove around with a friend last night for a good bit. all the way out into the sticks, as she put it. it was nice to because we both have been digging around in our bags, dredging them if you will. it was confession at its finest. sometimes i forget about that sacrament. i live pretty honest so i forget that there is a second step in that equation. but we confessed. recounted places where there were wounds, and equally, where we wounded ourselves. where we let doubts have the last word. trying to rewrite those lines. i want a good story. i talked to another friend when the sun was out. we spoke things in the light that took a long time to say. raised our fears to a place where someone else could speak into them. so much confession. so powerful. in a moment, she said, "but imagine how much grace you would be met with". and i my heart started to heal. some healing processes require time, and they hurt a little bit. i went to a basketball game afterwards and i couldnt even tell you who we played. i was in a place of healing, but so absent. and so thankful. confession is powerful. it is an inexplicable thing to be in a place where you know you are loved. to confess. to tend to the wounds of others. to speak truth into the heart of lies. its really powerful.

i just finished a week of intense class. even before that, i had been in the process of digging up old things, because honestly, im tired of living with them. i want them in the light and out of my life. then i got to class, where everything was reflection. im not sure i wrote down anything about the history of spirituality, but i was able to diagram the last few years of my life and where some of my patterns got their starts. for what thats worth. the night after the class ended, i drove to spartanburg and talked to a friend on the way there. its a simple revelation, but its a really nice feeling when someone wants to be your friend. when they have no reason to do so, but make it clear that they're being intentional about it. even states away. friendship is nice, especially when you've given your doubts free reign of your thoughts. its stupid, but sometimes when i get tired, its easier to let go of the leash. dumb. but life. after we talked, i found my beloved publix and i ate at the tacodog next door. i got to put a pen to paper and i was so grateful for it. sometimes the act of physically doing work that empties your heart a little bit is just really powerful.

im surrounded by really great people. they love me. and i believe them. im making an effort to not negate it or push it away. and im doing alright. ive got people who are working out life and trying to live healthy. there is a lot of encouragement. a lot of listening. a lot of frienship. ive got a lot. im trying to live as if the substance defines me, instead of the space. the edges instead of the holes. i live in a good place where i can find peace, where im learning to feel the Lord again. where im starting to listen more, and im starting to hear. its good to me.

my playlist now is hopeful. and some of it has to do with the words, but more of it is the way the songs lift and drop. the way you naturally inhale to the pauses and tones. music is a gift, as much as laughter is too.

"not the needle, nor the thread, the lost decree
saying nothing, thats enough for me".

saying nothing, thats enough for me.