obligatory welcome of the ~ New Year ~

IMG_3906I’m not much into that “new year, new me” mess.

But I did try to make a list of resolutions.  It was overwhelming and intimidating when it was supposed to be empowering.

Read 52 books this year, and not just YA.  Write every day, even if it’s just a paragraph or a haiku.  Make good on my promises to visit people who live far away from me.  Be more active –
But what does that matter?  Here’s the hardcore, nitty gritty, desires of my heart:

Live in love.  Be courageous.  Never lose hope.  Trust Jesus.  Write every day.  Embark on all of the adventures life offers you.


It has been a glorious few days.  From chilling at a beach house with my parents, to spontaneous trips to Galveston –

I spent New Years Eve at my Pastor’s house with some of my closest friends, and even though it was cold and rainy, it was perfect.  I can still smell the smoke and the rain on my jacket, and I can still hear all of our screams and shouts.  Then afterwards, when we had cheered in the New Year most of our group had left, and the others were asleep – the sad feeling that hits your chest when you’ve watched a wonderful film or listened to a beautiful song.  I only slept for an hour that night; there was too much to think, to write, and I had my best friend to stay up for.

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I should really be going to sleep now, but there is too much to think to write, and I have – well, this time I have nothing to stay up for, unless “myself” is a valid answer.

My journal is open beside me, waiting to be filled with the conversations of the last two days.  It is waiting to feel the black ink weight of the secrets and the laughter and the tears shared by a group of almost adults.

I know I’ve said it before – my heart aches, I love them so.  All of the friendships I have made, all of the relationships I have strengthened over the past few months.

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Madison, Seth, Giselle (creepin’), me, and Jas.

2015 was a year of lessons, hard ones.

My nature makes me trusting, but I learned that loving and trusting do not go hand in hand, and you cannot trust everyone with everything.  I learned to trust my gastrointestinal track (which is, apparently, where my Holy Spirit lives).  I learned that everyone lies, that some are just better at covering their tracks.  I learned that people can be cruel and selfish and unkind, and that it’ll harden you, if you let it.

But I learned that rain puddles are most fun to jump in when you have friends beside you, hands clasped together and faces turned up into the falling rain.  I learned that messy doesn’t mean chaotic, and that sometimes having extra clothes strewn in the back seat of the car isn’t a bad thing.  I learned how to read people better, and how to love in ways that don’t come naturally but that people sometimes need.  I learned to face my fear of driving and to make phone calls without my voice shaking and to be reckless with my creativity.  I learned that, although people may ask for advice or help, they’ll rarely take what you say to heart, and really the best you can do for them is pray, and then trust Jesus with them.

That’s what last year was about, really: surrender.  Like that Hillsong song says, “Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders.  Let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me.  Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander -“  It’s all about letting go and following Jesus, wherever he takes you.

And he’s leading me to some pretty awesome places this year.  I’ve got a rough draft (still subject to change) of the plan for this year, and I feel a lot of peace about it.

So, look out, world.  Ready or not, here I come.

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