When a writer meets the Author

So! The absolutely worst part about being a writer is you must write about everything. Talking out an issue doesn’t cut it. There’s something about picking up a pen, or even just opening a blank Word document that makes things make sense. I have -quite literally – had conflicts with those I love where face to face all I can do is stand still, stew, cry and be quite female. Then, after a stroke of genius and the ability to write out what’s on my mind, all the sudden I can make sense and be 200xs less emotional during conflict resolution.

What could make being a really strong avoider of commitment on top of being a writer even worse? The need to get people’s approval. I don’t know how many times I’ve created an amazing article (please notice the sweet humility) over what I’ve been processing because of people in my life and then shared it with someone. Problem is, this someone (whoever it may be on any given day) is a person who isn’t involved in the slightest with the original situation. I tell myself I want them to critique my writing. That would be a lie. I want them to read my side of the story, side with me, tell me that I have a right to be ticked and then tell me I write exquisitely.

Is anyone relating to this? Don’t worry, unless I’ve gained unknown groupies that read these random entries as a group, no one’s watching you smile or nod your head.

Today had the potential of being one of those days. God moved in a few ways and it scared me to death. Why? Because… Well… It required commitment, patience and *gasp* the end result meant I had to actually admit that I’m fallible. Plus, the end result involved someone I love dearly. And… No. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to write about it. And then post it here and get complimented on it. …. And leave the dealing-with-loved-ones part of the scenario out of it.

…. …. …. The above 4 paragraphs were not planned. However, I woke up with an issue heavy on my heart and I started mapping out an article about it. (Seriously. I’m a nerd on a whole new level, people.) Half way through the morning, I finally shut up. And, shock upon shocks, God filled the silence.

He had one question that killed my inability to make sense of my hurting heart. All He asked was, “If you came to Me with your heartache with as much passion as when you write about it & then just trusted Me.. How much deeper would your peace be?

Humility hurts. Realizing that you’ve allowed your heart to become an optional topic with your Lord hurts even more. Brokenness is good, though. If anything brokenness teaches you to acknowledge where your skills and talents can impact life… And it shows you where those talents can impair Absolute Truth in your life.

I don’t like growing up. It’s too much work. (Yes, I realize adulthood isn’t anything new in my life)

Birch bowed blessings

So, I’ll admit… I’m posting this because I need it. This article is something I wrote back in April and its truths that God gave hit just about every corner of my life at the time.
Last night, I was lovingly and carefully handed some information that could’ve broken me… But God allowed it to make me stronger instead. I found three minutes of true “alone time” (hard to find here) and brokenly reminded God that I didn’t understand where my heart stood, nor how to depend on Him until the storm passed. The question, “How could you want this from us?!” came up; and just like my God He reminded me of this article. He reminded me that all He asked from myself and my loved ones is that we bow under pressure and remember our roots found in Him.


I never thought God would use something as pitiful and awkward as an Alaska Birch tree to deepen my walk with Him. But that’s exactly what I found my God doing during a routine trip to Anchorage. At one point, while observing the millions of Birch trees in the mountains, I found myself near tears basking in God’s ability to whisper Truth to me when no one else was listening.

Trees in Alaska are somewhat of a joke. Most of the Pine trees are infested by beetle kill, so lusciously green trees are rarely seen. Birch trees are interesting, but in the winter, they simply remind me of twigs that you can snap with your little finger. You don’t come to Alaska to enjoy the trees. You come to enjoy mountains.

Imagine my shock when the words I heard from God were not, “look at my mountains, Child.” But rather He seemed to be shouting excitedly, “Look at my majestic birch trees, Dearest! Aren’t they breathtaking?!” Really, Lord? Are you sure?

A large majority of the Birch in many parts of Alaska are somehow bent, as if bowing to an unseen Master. They are not, however, broken. Logically, this is done by the large velocity of winds that come off the mountains. It’s an every day sight to see a birch tree bowing from the wind or the snow; but today it somehow took my breath away.

“These birch trees are how I long to see your heart, Child.” I smirked as I slowly started to understand the picture God was painting for me. Seriously? My heart is under ulcer forming anxiety and God tells me to be like these wimpy birches? What exactly, was I missing? Certainly, I was more than ready to see a blessing from my Master in anything, but why did this feel like such a big breakthrough? The object lesson was a simple tree? Why?!

“These trees don’t look like much, but they’re Mine. You don’t see the root systems below them, so you don’t comprehend that they are stronger than you could ever imagine. They are bowing under the great adversity of the wind- but they are not broken. Some look worn bare, but they’re still alive. Some are bowing so low they’ve become a meal for the critters, but they are still growing. Year after year, Precious One, these trees stay alive because they are bowing to Me. In a way, as they bow low to the ground, imagine them looking for their root system. They know they will not break because I have planted their root system so deeply that strong winds and heavy snows cannot harm them unto death. They’re beautiful because of what they’ve survived. They tell a story to everyone, yet few hear it.”

“Remember this, Child of Mine. You may bend under adversity to the point that you feel as if you’ll break; but find your root in me, and you never will. When you get so weighted down by your life, bow down and truly study your roots that I have built in you. As you do that, you may get chewed on by an enemy, you may even feel weakened by the weight of bending so low to study so long. But you will not break, because I will not let you. And the stories that waltz you into Glory – the stories your life will write – will be your greatest beauty. But that beauty will not be yours unless you learn to bow under adversity.”

I felt my heart catch in my throat as all my defenses were torn down and I saw God’s Truth in full. God had hidden a lesson in plain sight in His creation. I was to go through life bowing as the Birch trees did.

As I pondered this new found truth, my eyes caught a tree that had actually snapped in half over time. Hearing my unspoken question, my Master quietly whispered, “That Beauty was- and still is- mine. However, it chose to fight adversity on its own. Be careful, Beloved. The world can make you believe you are strong enough without a root system planted in Me. The winds will prove otherwise. Learn to fight back. Learn to bow when it hurts the most.”

Literally Laughing Anyway

Not like this is anything especially different from the rest of America, but dang it, I’m exhausted.

Like I said, this is America. Go, go, go… Crash when you have time…. Is not something that is unique to me. I know this. Believe me. I have a sister. She taught me that it is humanly possible to:

1) Not actually sleep for days
2) Get a butt-load done anyway &
3) Choose when your 197% energy depletes in 5seconds and successfully crash for 16 hours.
(And yes, growing up, she had the sickening ability to get up and do the cycle all over again).

It is possible to do this. But I was never given the formula as to how. I attempt to stay awake longer than 38hours while still being productive and I go…. I go… Just… Wacko. (Dear Precious women that are terrified I’ll die of exhaustion: I’m fine. Really)

It’s normal for people to go wacko without sleep. There’s a reason mental hospitals put all their stocks in some kind of sleep-drug. (That’s how tired I am, I can’t even think of the intelligent word for what that is.)

However, like y’all might’ve guessed, my sleep deprivation has this precious little special difference. Although I laugh all the time as it is, I laugh even more when I’m exhausted. Obviously, my cerebral palsy never wants to be left out of the fun.

Before I make my point, please remember.. C.P also means Certified Psycho. So, when I tell you my CP shows up when I’m exhausted- that’s what I mean.

When I’m tired, I laugh like my life depends on it. Not that big of a deal except the muscles in my face that are affected by CP (Certified Psycho) become… Playful. Just the right side of my face lifts almost an entire inch in a permanent smirk, and my right eye permanently squints. The way my face moves actually tickles (I’ve never been able to explain that along side the nerve damage). And I’m so annoyed at that, I can barely stop laughing to try and make my face behave.

So, in essence, when you see me laughing and it’s obvious I’m exhausted, realize I’m not necessarily laughing on purpose.
When I barely breathe out, “it hurts to laugh!” I’m not kidding. Then I hear myself, comprehend what that actually means, understand just how funny it is… And laugh for real. So, what was only supposed to be a polite giggle at a student’s joke ends in a 30minute ab-workout.

The Certified Psycho (CP) strikes again.