Peace like a river.

Today, I'm nervous. I look at the circumstances surrounding Tuesday the 9th and all I can think on are all things that could go wrong today. The what if''s are many and in great abundance this morning. As I apply my makeup, as I walk to get a coffee, as I drive, as I do, all I can think are the things I cannot control. 

I have been in such a state of unrest lately - people are leaving that I thought would be near forever, my best friend is heading 6 hours away for the school year, my life is a mix of school and sleep, and worries are big, ominous, looming and take up energy. And I have found myself asking, "Where is God in all this? He was here last year at this time, so what is so much different about this year? Why can't I feel his presence, why don't I know his face?" 

This morning I woke up, a bit wearied by life's bumps and a bit annoyed at the days schedule. 

Last night's devotions weren't "all that".

My best friend leaves in 2 days. 

In 48 hours she'll be on her way to a far off place. 

And then, as I was applying my makeup 4 hours after I'd woken, I was moved by words put to a melody line. 

-

Perfect peace is something that not many have in this world. We live in a universe of unrest, moral corruption and in a place where more is more, and if you don't have more than you feel inferior to those around you. 

Contrary to the world's belief, perfect peace doesn't come from a best friend living right down the road, a coffee being a perfect brew, a big part in the play, a night of dancing, a family friend's life who's path no longer intersects my own on a regular basis.

The perfect peace I have this morning is unmerited, filled with love, in great abundance, coming like a steady rain after a long drought. 

I'd forgotten about it. I'd forgotten about the perfect peace of my Jesus. 

And this morning, over clinique and covergirl and maybelline, perfect peace attended my way. 

So, I will fix my eyes on Him who came like rain, and in doing that, perfect peace will be given.

Unrest is no more at his throne.

Worries diminish when I am seated on his lap.

Storms calm with his voice.

Circumstances become smaller when my eyes focus on the face of the one who gives all I need in perfect timing.

I'll step out onto the water, and call upon his name, and He will help me to tread. 

For He who promised is faithful. 

-

Stay close by My side

Keep your eyes on Me

Though life is hard

I will give you perfect peace

In this time of trial

Pain that no one sees

Trust me when I say

That I will give you perfect peace

And you'll never walk alone

And you'll never be in need

Though I may not calm the storms around you

You can hide in Me

Burdens that you bear

Offer no relief

Let Me bear your load

'Cause I will give you perfect peace

Stay close by My side

And you'll never walk alone

Keep your eyes on Me

And you'll never be in need

Though this life is hard

Know that I will always give you perfect peace

I will give you perfect peace.

Perfect Peace Laura Story

Differences

Differences are a beautiful thing.

fresh

It might've been the fact that I spent a week with people so very different from me. I was surrounded from Monday-Friday, 8am-3pm with people who are living different lifestyles and making different decisions each having different characteristics. Different strengths. Different weaknesses.

I like differences. Vast differences...small ones. Insignificant changes and significant life altering ones. 

Difference : n) a point or way in which people or things are not the same.

v) alter (a coat of arms) to distinguish members or branches of a family.

A difference makes you you, distinguishes you from "the norm" and is a unique attribute that only you posses in the amount that has been bestowed on you. 

Worn / fresh + weathered / new 

You can choose to be uncomfortable with your differences or you can choose to accept them...and in actuality, your differences cannot be altered. Differences set an object apart and make that being singular. Unique. Totally and completely their own. Doesn't it sound wonderful? To be totally and completely your own? Like no one else?

Differences in textures, personalities, clothing, colours, you name it - each and every difference is beautiful.

Choose to see the beauty. 

Fears.

Written 2 weeks ago Wednesday.

I’m afraid.

I know, I know. I shouldn’t be. I’m sitting on the red checkered couch in the front room in Maine, looking out over the tranquil harbor that is the home to many boats, perching at the end of a long day of fishing. My feet are propped up, my face is warm from spending the whole day (well, most of it.) paddle boarding on a lake some 20 minutes away. I breakfasted at an Italian cafe this morning, picnicked at the lake for lunch, and on the agenda for this evening is live music in Bar Harbor.

Perfect, right?

Far from it.

The scenery is beautiful, the company is fantastic, but I am afraid.

For starters, I won’t be really HOME until next Friday. And even then it’s just for 3 days before I’m out of the house for a school week of driver’s ed. It’s not that I want to be on my couch doing nothing but watching White Collar all next week, but there is a certain comfort that my own abode provides and a peace that I feel in my heart when I am home.

Second, my cousin came down with the stomach bug yesterday. We were chilling at the lake and then all of a sudden a voice (my moms…) saying, “Day...She’s throwing up.”

Yes. I am afraid.

I am not surrounded by what makes me comfortable. I was thrown into a situation where my biggest irrational fear is present and thriving. I can barely eat anything despite the apparent empty stomach. I am going home in 3 days and leaving less than 48 hours later to a camp in which I will be getting, at most, 21 hours of sleep in 3 days vs. my usual 27/30 hours of sleep.

Yes the water is rippling.

Yes I am blessed to have a family who loves each other and is not separated by strained relationships and opinions.

Yes I have food on my plate.

I have so much to be thankful for and my own mind has chosen to think of the one thing that’s wrong. But to me the one thing leaks into every other part of my life - my enjoyment of it, the food on my plate, the family that loves each other…

Call it what you will, negativity, anxiety, panic - the full range of emotions is dwelling in my heart due to one small child who came down with a sickness. I am not comfortable. I am outside my comfort zone and not in a way that is nessecarily enjoyable.

And the questions are swirling in my mind in a way that plagues and takes away from my energy.

Why did she have to get sick here?

Why do I have to have such a busy schedule?

Why can’t I be an adult at youth camp and just enjoy the sermons and the people but not have to participate in the games and the...why?

Why couldn’t I have come up here Wednesday when all the sickness was gone?

Why…

Why…?

Why?

I don’t understand why. I don’t.

Why can’t things go exactly how I anticipated them to?

-

Golly day, it’s a never ending, vicious, plaguing cycle of “why’s”, angry thoughts, the desire to flee, the longing to be at least hungry.

And they all lead me to one place - I can’t do this alone.

I can’t walk through the next 3 weeks alone.

I can’t stumble through my days with no energy, digging my fingernails into my palm in a way that leaves marks because it distracts me from the swirling and the whirling of my stomach.

I can’t.

I’m too weak.

And I have been reminded every time I come to this statement of the inability to walk through this alone, that 1) my days have already been covered 2) that the strength I need can be found at the feet of the Lord 3) I don’t need to worry. Because come rain and shine, snow and sleet, sickness and health, old and young...I will not be walking alone. I will be walking or being held or being carried by the One to whom angels sing.

I may get sick, but He will still be my Lord.

I may get stressed, but He will still be with me.

I may feel low and downtrodden and overwhelmed, but He is refining me in the refiners fire.

I may feel empty...but I will find all that I need at His feet.

So, no. I need not be afraid.

I need not grow weary.

Because those who trust in Him will mount up on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary, they shall walk and not grow faint.

There is none like my Lord and He will walk with me through fire.

Oh Jesus. Be with me.

Remind me of your goodness.

Remind me that you are bigger...you ARE bigger.

You are bigger than my circumstances. Keep my heart reminded of who you are and keep my feet firmly planted in the solid rock that ever stands.

This morning as my fingernails dug, as my heart was heavy, as my mind raced, as I became downtrodden looking at my circumstance which seemed to be towering above me my heart began to sing.

Fear not, I am with you

Be not dismayed

For I am thy God and will still give you aid

I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand

Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

Behold, my Lord.

Behold, my God.

He is here.

Beauty.

I am not a model.

I have never been a model, nor will I probably ever be a model.

I don’t have a closet filled to the brim with name brands. It’s namely filled with things from Target and savers.

I don’t have hair that’s the perfect texture and length, and it takes a lot of heat to get it to fall in somewhat normal layers around my face.

I most certainly am not blessed with perfect skin - day after day it is a struggle to keep the red lumps from appearing on it. And most times, one, two sometimes even ten red angries bubble up to the surface, unaffected by the treatments.

My voice cracks when I sing sometimes because I simply cannot hit the notes that Idina Menzel hits.

My piano skills are simple and it’s taken me a year to complete a six-page song that for some would take a single day.

My body isn’t slim and trim without effort - it requires persistence, dedication, and accountability on my part to achieve a body that I am content with.

And I’m not gonna lie...I look at people and see their model build, their closet whose inhabitants are drenched in logos of the stores that I would love to shop at. I see hair that falls perfectly as soon as the person wakes up, I see skin that is without blemish and I hear voices that can hit notes that seem to be untouchable for my range. I see bodies of people who eat junk food all day that are slimmer and more trim than my own - worked out and all.

I see their exterior and think to myself, “I wish…”

Fill in the blank.

Now, this isn’t me fishing for compliments...TRUST ME IT’S NOT. This is just me saying that I look at people and see their outward beauty and go, “Man. That’d be nice to have.”

I’ve been thinking lately about how much I dwell on the exterior appearance of those around me and my own meager outside shell.

I don’t normally look at someone and say, “Man. Look at how kind she is to people.”

I don’t normally look at someone and say to myself, “Wow! Look at the way she serves so selflessly.”

I normally look at people and say, “Wow. Her gene pool really treated her well. Look at her hair and the way her skin seems to be flawless!”

I look at people and say, “Holy mackerel. She’s practically perfect.”

Well, here’s the thing. I’m realizing how superficial number one, my own thoughts towards people are and number two, how superficial outer beauty is, how fleeting an exterior appearance truly is.

And I’ve been countering these thoughts about superficiality with thoughts of the everlasting God, and the image He has given me of a woman with true, real, deep, beauty.

I’ve been dwelling on what true beauty is for a good solid few months, and countering my superficial facts of what beauty is by what the Lord has given me about true beauty. And here is what I have come up with.

True beauty doesn’t rely on name brands.

True beauty doesn’t rely on model stature.
True beauty doesn’t rely on being able to roll out of bed with perfect hair.

True beauty doesn’t rely on the ability to reach seemingly untouchable notes.

True beauty doesn’t rely on perfect skin.

True beauty doesn’t rely on piano skills.

True beauty doesn’t rely on good grades, being photogenic, being able to dance well, having perfect pitch, possessing the ability to accompany the melody of a song you love by just hearing the track once - you name the exterior characteristic or talent of someone you find as being “perfect” externally.

That is not true beauty.

True beauty does not rely on that.

And in realizing these things, I’m also realizing that if I were stripped of every part of my external appearance that I find to be “redeeming” I wouldn’t feel beautiful.

I ask myself why? And I get this:

Because I feel that those around me only think I’m beautiful because of my outward appearance.

And here’s the shocker: If those that you consider important are only your friends because you are a pretty face, they’re not important. Now, this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t love them -  the King loves them as much as He loves you and we as christians are called to love our neighbors.

What this does mean is that they are around you for the wrong reasons.

Your friend circle should love you whatever state you’re in because it’s not the outward appearance that matters but the inward that outweighs all.

There is an abundance of scripture that’s being holds what true beauty is.

All that beauty truly is can be found in the details of the word.

Rather than the list of what True Beauty isn’t, this is a list of what True Beauty is.

True Beauty is fearing the Lord in all that you do. 
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. - Proverbs 31:30
True beauty is a quiet spirit and a gentle nature.

But let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and
quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious. - 1 Peter 3:4
True Beauty is understanding that your future is in the Lords hands, and savoring life without fear because He is and therefore you have abundant hope.
Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs without fear of the time to come. 
Proverbs 31:25
True Beauty is wisdom. 
She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.

                Proverbs 31:26
True Beauty is found within your heart.

But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.” - 1 Samuel 16:7
True Beauty is the Lords living work within your soul. 
And because of Jesus?

"You are altogether beautiful, my darling, And there is no blemish in you.”  - Song of Solomon 4:7

Tea

If I liked tea, I would probably drink it.

Seems logical right?

I would probably look forward to the morning’s flavoured hot water that would fill the room with a flowery aroma as steam wisp’d and curled like an italian street vendor’s curly-q mustache. I’d probably pull out my notebook and sit on my couch, legs in the criss cross indian style way, tea in my left hand, pen in my right, and I’d probably write. I’d write about my life. I’d write about things I love. I’d write about my tea and pen. I’d write about sunshine and blue skies.

On a good day, that is.

A week later I probably would still look forward to my cup of hot water and pen. And the day would probably dawn bright and sunny, but my head would boom and pound as pain ricocheted off it’s walls. I’d sit up and bang my head, much to my brain’s dismay and the pounding and booming would only be encouraged to make itself more well known in my life. I would stumble out of bed and stub my toe on the corner of my furniture and then both ends of my body would pound and boom in synchronization. I’d probably have one more of my favorite tea bags. A sigh of relief would be heard and I’d brew my cup of tea out of the keurig because I wanted it fast. But in doing so forget to check if there was a coffee pod in there. It would turn out that there was a coffee pod, and of course I’d already put the tea bag in the mug and so there goes my favorite tea to coffee flavored hot water. I’d frown and moan and dump out the tea and go to brew another popping in my second favorite bag AFTER I’d brewed it. I’d put what I thought was sugar in the tea and it would turn out to be salt so I’d have to dump that one as well. I’d brew yet another tea, put yet another tea bag in, and dump SUGAR into the steaming substance. Finally, I’d make it to the couch, wrap up in a cozy blanket, pull out my journal, and think “Now my day will begin going right.”. I’d begin scrawling out something about how horrible my morning was going but how good my tea was and then I’d misspell horrible and go back and try to erase the extra b I’d somehow added. In doing so, my mind would be preoccupied and forget that in my left hand I held a steaming substance that was awful delicious and it’d pour out. All over my journal, my pj’s, and of course me. And you’d probably think, “This day could not get any worse.”

-

I spilled tea once.

I know what you’re thinking, “Wait, she said she didn’t drink tea…?”

Well, I don’t.

Nor do I plan on drinking tea.

It’s metaphorical tea I speak of.

I spilled it all over my metaphorical journal (i.e. my life) and it ruined everything.

One word led to another word, one action led to another action, one mistake led to another mistake. Snowball effect, a bad habit, whatever you want to call it.

Much like the bad day, one thing led to another and before I knew it all I could think was, “What have I gotten myself into?” Now, don’t let your imaginations run wild. It was nothing monumentally bad, it was a series of bad choices that led to me being grounded for approximately 4-6 months. As I left the homeschooling community to join a private school due to the bad choices, I became aware of those spilled tea stains and try as I might to scrub it out, there’s always a hint of it.

It wasn’t until the private school year was over and I was back at homeschooling that I realized this special truth: Jesus Christ is my stain remover.

Not oxi-clean. Not dreft, a Tide-to-go, a shout wipe. Nope. I mean like a deep clean stain remover, one that doesn’t actually physically exist. A stain remover that once put into your clothes would remove stains  - not the kind they advertise. This isn’t really talked about as much as it should be, it isn’t proclaimed on every channel, and when talked about it most certainly isn’t the kind of thing that shouts, “BUY ME!”.

He works very much like a stain remover.

He gets the stains out, but if you stain it again you’re back to square one. Until you ask for the spot remover again.

-

Every day I sin.

Every day I lapse into temptation.

Every day this world gets the best of me and I fall onto my knees and cry out, “Forgive me!”

And every day?

He cleanses me once more.

He cleanses me no matter how many times I get stained because that’s just who He is.

He guides.

Mountaintops are hard to get to.

Every year my family and I travel to Acadia National Park on Mount Desert Island in Maine. If you’ve ever been to this part of New England than you know that everywhere you look there’s a different mountain that provides a different view of the Island, the Atlantic, and the towns below.

I’m not gonna lie, it takes a lot of effort on my part to reach the summit of the mountains.

Sometimes complaining takes place as calves scream, “HOW DID YOU EVEN THINK YOU COULD DO THIS?” Your feet sweat similarly to your head as the sun beats down onto your scalp. Water is chugged. Sustenance is devoured. Mantras are spoken (You know the typical - “You’re almost there!” “Just a little bit farther!” “This is good exercise!” “The view is gonna be great!”). Until finally there is a break in the forest lines, and you take your Rocky Balboa stance on the top of the stone next to those little cairns. Your mom pats you on the back and smiles saying, “I knew you could make it!” And your Dad asks you to pose for a picture with the scenery in your rear. And you think, “What was I ever worried about? An hour passed by in the blink of an eye!”

Picture walking up these stony hills in which your feet are liable to trip, in which roots stick up ready to cause you to fall, in which sunshine beats down, calves hurt, and mantras must be spoken.

Add a blindfold to cover your eyes, and place a strong hand in yours leading you to the mountain top. As soon as you get out of the car and say “I’m ready for the adventure.” This blindfold slips over your eyes and however comforted you feel, you’re a bit nervous about where it will lead you. You are increasingly at ease as you feel the strong muscles of the hand wrapped around your weak one.

As you begin, you hear this being telling you that the view will be great, but, prepare yourself, it’s gonna take a while to get there. It’s a hike and a hard one at that.

You hear the words, “I've got the water. I've got the sustenance.”

As you begin to walk, you realize that this is no ordinary hike.

You stumble up the first few rocks, your feet slipping, but the hand never leaves yours.

Comforted, you continue and realize that the ground has leveled out.

At peace, you continue to tread, a smile spreading across your face.

This carries on for a few minutes until you fall.

You feel the blood beginning to trickle down your calves that have started to burn, and you feel the hand letting go.

Heart dropping, you realize that this hand is making itself distant.

But just before you go to remove the blindfold you hear the deep comforting tones of the voice that you've grown to love saying, “Follow my voice. Trust that I will not lead you somewhere that will cause peril. I have promised and I will fulfill. Trust in my voice. Follow me.”

So you crawl because your calves and your heels hurt from scuffing the rocky earth.

The voice continues calling, “Follow me. It will get better in time and the blessing of a view is waiting at the end.”

You continue to stumble, your fingers grasping the stones but you've already realized that the pain is only temporary.

Almost to your end, you finally feel hands slipping boots onto your naked toes - “I was waiting for you to learn this lesson, my sweetheart. Wait on me. Whether I feel distant or so near that you’re touching me.”

The hand hoists you up onto strong shoulders, and softly says, “You’re tired. I will carry you, my darling.”

This carries on.

Removed from shoulders and placed on steady ground.

The soft earth becomes rocky and filled with roots that cause bloodied ankles and you’re back on the ground, crawling.

Over and over this is repeated, but it’s always a different tripping device used.

Every time you crawl through a different terrain, following the voice in the distance, the voice equips you with another piece of protection - Knee pads, a helmet after that time you continued to hit your head, band-aids for the injuries, bug spray for the gnats that bite at your flesh, sustenance after the hunger, water after the thirst.

He takes you to what feels like the end of strength and then when you feel as if you have nothing left He gives you steady ground and whatever it is that you absolutely need in the quantity that is absolutely necessary.

And when the hand and the voice are seemingly quite distant, you hear the feet of the being of the hand treading on the gravel, and you follow, slowly but surely.

Meekly but ever so steadily.

For hours and hours.

Days upon days.

Tripping device upon tripping device.

Rocky ledge upon rocky ledge.

Following this strong hand will get you to the mountain top.

There are various peaks on the way there in which your blindfold is removed and you overlook a serene valley. And He reminds you that due to his strength and wisdom, “You've made it to the first outlook!...But we must continue for there is a much better view waiting.”

-

My Lord is the hand and the voice and the feet that have guided me through bloodied knees and scuffed calves.

He’s guided me through cliff walks and wide paths.

He’s taken me through darkness and light.

He’s removed my blindfold at the peaks.

The views at these peaks are so worth the pain - “constant through the trial and the change, this one thing, this one thing remains...His love NEVER fails." 

His hand never ceases to guide.

Trust in his voice, in his hand, in the sounds of his feet.
Don’t lose hope.

-

There have been so many times when I so wanted to turn my back on Him.

And yet, he always shows himself in perfect timing that waiting for him in the midst of hardship will always be worth it.

May my life, by the Grace of God, resemble that of someone who faithfully depends on the LORD God, my Father, through the peaks and troughs of this life.

James  1:12 

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

Words for Dinner.

Today I feasted on the only words that sooth my sometimes weary, often anxious soul.
And I was filled to the absolute brim.
"...my cup overflows." Psalm 23:5

2 Corinthians 4:17 

1 Corinthians 2:9

And my weary soul rested as it was cleansed by this song and these words(among others!)

He is so good for all that I am is sustained by all that He is. 

The author who loves the reader.

I don’t know about you, but, I’ve always wanted to have a book dedicated to me.

That big nearly blank first page to say something along the lines of

For Brittany; I love you to the moon and back.

From the one I love, written just for me.

It is a dream of mine to know that the one who is my everything spent 400 or so pages with me in mind.

Close to impossible(it has been done, so it’s not fully there.) but nevertheless a wonderful thought, right?

Let me blow your mind: there’s a book that’s been dedicated just for you.

There’s a book that’s been written by the one who loves you in a deep, great, sacrificing kind’ve way.

The author loves you the way your heart wants to be loved and He treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated.

Even in the moments when in the heat of anger you scream “I hate you!”

Even in the moments when you simply say “You’re not worth this pain.”

In the moments where it’s the hardest to love you He loves you the most.

Can I tell you something? Can I go on a really quick tangent about the love of this Author?

I absolutely hate it when people say, “Everyone hates me.”

Because in that moment, there is someone who has always always always loved you.

There is someone who knew your being before it was formed, who fell in love with you before the foundations of the earth, and who has carried you through every breath you have taken in this life.

I am no perfect person and I have said this negative comment to myself on many occasions. When circumstances revealed to me that those around me looked at me with disdain or chagrin due to actions I had taken, things that I’d said, you name it - I am NO perfect person and I should by no means be looked at as one.

Yet in the moment when I feel as though no one looks at me with affection, there is one who loves me deeper than anyone on this earth could possibly love.

Because when he looks at me letting loose retorts of hate, anger and vile words and my robe becoming increasingly blackened from wickedness, he sees pure white.

He doesn’t see the tarnished reputation from sin He sees his son’s perfection placed upon my shoulders due to the amount of His blood shed for my imperfection.

Okay, so back to the point.

The Author of this book might not straight up say To Brittany; I love you to the moon and back.

But, just imagine that it does. Because, really, he wrote it with you in mind.

This documentation of the trials of his people, descriptions of stories in which He has delivered, details of miracles and births and deaths. You name it, he has woven every part of a “good” story into an intricate account that was written it just for you.

The words were inscribed into the white that you might see who He is, and that you might believe in every aspect of him.  

So that in the moments of despair as circumstances are dreary and dull and you look and see hate and an absence of love, you would turn to the words he has written that you might have life.

This Authors name is Yahweh, Jehovah Jireh, Elohim. The book? It's the iconic book of the Bible.

And the words he wrote, he wrote for you personally. Believe this. Read them. And live.