Sunshine. Tears.

Sunshine. Tears.

This place is so beautiful. There is so much world to see. So much we will never see, never experience. But this place, this moment, this is beautiful. This is worth savoring, remembering. Treasuring.

I came here today because God told me to. I went to read, to write, and the cheerily decorated walls, the peppy music, the overly air conditioned atmosphere began to choke me. I practically ran out the doors. God whispered the word Arrowhead to me, so here I am. Sitting on a park bench beneath the spreading arms of a friendly old grandfather tree, hearing the traffic rush past just yards away. But here, I am alone.

Alone to ponder, to wonder at the power words have over me. I discovered the writing of Ann Voskamp today, and in less than ten pages I was moved to tears. There are some writers that capture your heart from the very first page, and Ann Voskamp seems to be one of them for me.

This sounds terribly arrogant of me to say, but her writing reminds me of my own. She is reflective, contemplative, theological, and dedicated to the art of painting pictures with her words. When I read her writing, I see everything I dream my own can be. Especially my name with the phrase New York Times best selling author attached. I read an interview she did recently, and with each word she used to describe her style, process, and beliefs about writing, I thought all the more.. Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe I can actually write.

I certainly have the passion. Sometimes it scares me how much power words do have over me. Sometimes I am terrified by their ability to overwhelm me with thoughts and emotions until I literally have to run away to a place like this to get them out. They will not leave me in peace until I do.

It’s strange because for a long time I personified the stories I write, simply as a sort of rhetorical strategy. It sounded good, it sounded poetic. And to a certain extent it was true. So go for it. Right?

But now.. I think my words have taken on new power. These words, these stories.. they truly do have life and power. They cry out to me to be told and I am driven to tears until they are. Sometimes I wonder how I lived for so long without discovering this passion, how it lay quiet in my soul for so long.

But perhaps that’s just it. Perhaps it wasn’t as quiet as I think. Perhaps I simply didn’t understand how to recognize its cries. It makes sense, doesn’t it? I lived for a long time not understanding my purpose, my calling. Not even  understanding what was wrong. I learned to settle.

I think we’re all taught to settle, actually.

We’re all taught either to simply ignore the cries in our hearts, desperately wishing for something more, or we’re taught to satisfy them with lesser things. And then we’re taught that we’re fine.

You have the job. The girl. The party. The life. You’re fine. You’re fine. You are fine.

Now be ok.

But what if it’s not? What if everything simply isn’t ok? And somewhere in the depths of our souls we know it’s not fine?

Then settle. Cause God knows it’s not ok to not be ok. Hide it. Shove it away. You’re fine.

But the thing is, that’s a lie. We’ve just been taught to settle for so long that we don’t even know any longer that we are in fact settling. We think we’re living life to the fullest.

Did you know that phrase is actually from the Bible? It’s just been so bastardized, so twisted, that the Biblical concept of life has been utterly lost. Forgotten. We don’t even look for it anymore. We’ve forgotten how to crave life.

But what if we did? What if there was more? What if there was passion living in your soul, passion that could move you to the most welcome and beautiful tears that will ever slip down your face?

It’s hard to let go of settling, terrifying to admit that deep down you are not fine. That in fact in the deepest, most personal part of your soul.. you are utterly broken. It’s a fundamental change. And it is painful. It is gut-wrenching, life-altering pain.

But through it passion is set free. Life is found. Joy is awoken.

Hello, sunshine. I love to see you through my tears.