never been here before

he reached down to me i tried to reach up that didn't work what makes more sense... him lowering himself reaching for me or for me to actually reach him? my arms are too short yet still i reach swatting away his arm more times than i care to admit i can do it own my own, i think my reach is pretty strong i am pretty strong nope this reach is grace undeserved unaccomplished by me this reach is joy forgiveness love mercy the ultimate compassion for a dead-in-sins soul his reach is long enough wide enough strong enough he reached for me grabbed me out of slimy pit the mire and clay he gave me a place to stand it's on his grace it's on his love it's with him http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/

I looked down at my phone and sighed the biggest sigh in the history of the world. Yeah, ok. I might be exaggerating. But that’s how I felt this morning. They say that habits form with repetitive choices and positive reinforcement. Well, I was used to getting a text message from a friend. Nearly every morning for the past few years I would get some hilarious or crazy text from a friend. Usually about nothing important. Something stupid that happened at Starbucks or at work. Something on the internet that was crazy. A song that made them feel. Something that would make me laugh. That changed a few weeks ago. Thus my sigh. Old habits die hard. I miss the texts. The stories. The laughter. The conversation. And now I have to start my day boring. Boo. It’s amazing how a person can come into your life and crawl right into your heart and come to mean something so much to you in a short period of time. It’s amazing the hole they leave when they go. I don’t like

Today’s post is for Five Minute Friday for my VERY FIRST TIME EVER, and the urging of my friend Karen . Five Minute Friday is where whoever loves and writes is urged shut down their critical voice and and write on a prompt word for five minutes straight. No editing (hahahahaha is happening in my head right now, by the way.) Today's prompt is the word "tell". ____________ She sat across from me in my office and I hear her say the words that will not let me go. The words I keep hearing from people. The words that resonate and by now, simply hurt, “I don’t feel like I belong here anymore.” “ What is my job, now, at this point? ” I’m asking myself inside. Wondering how to respond. My heart is tearing and I close my eyes for a long while as we sit together. I almost feel my heart cave in, that familiar feeling of heartache. But this time it’s not about a boy or a friend or family member or a loss. This time it’s caving in dread. To tell me that you d

This spring I did a series on expectations – what it actually would look like if we tried to live our lives without them. If you go back and read the series, you’ll see I never come to any kind of solid thesis (that wasn’t the point). But I did come out of it realizing that as great as it sounds to avoid hurt in life, it just didn’t seem possible to truly live without expectations of some form. It seemed like regularly the logical part of my brain collided with my heart. And I let my heart win. Here’s what’s funny. I think that I hoped deep down that I would, through the writing, stop having expectations of the people in my life. That somehow I would have learned this powerful lesson through all those painstaking words I wrote and felt… that somehow I would be free of what often hurts me.  Disappointment. Yeah. That didn’t happen. Surely goodness will follow me. I don’t know why I wanted that, other than the obvious reason of it seems like such a great way to live y