to whom it may concern,

in my undying love for great music, i finally discovered the civil wars and i think they are amazing. the combination of joy william's and john paul white's voices are just soothing to the soul, as smooth as silk. the soft melodies and the gentle heartfelt lyrics have made me a fan.

as i listened to this song today, i realized the lyrics so eloquently expressed every feeling and echoed every thought i have about my future someone. to the man who will one day only hold my hand, whose laugh and smile i will love, to the man who will someday walk through this beautiful life with me,
i am still waiting patiently.

becoming.

setbacks can disappoint and deter us. however, they can also reignite determination, if we let it. and that's what i have choose to do with the setbacks that have befallen me. i can feel the disappointment deep in my veins, resonating in my heart of hearts. the letdown, the being left alone, the not being chosen hurts and discourages me, but it does not destroy me. it does not determine what my future will look like, or how i must feel. my past mistakes and circumstances are no indicator for what will happen, though i have often let them be. today that changes. we must not only expect and settle for history to repeat itself. we can hope for more, strive for something greater, and have the courage to make new things happen. the gift of the present is always with us. each new moment offers the birth of something new. and i am determined to graciously accept the new moments as a gift of possibility offered to me with love. can i take a revolutionary stance on my life and say i what i want? i want to be a writer. i want to not just say that i write and barely do it. i really want to invest my heart and soul in it. i want a life partner. someone to love, and to be loved. i want to know what it is when everyone talks about their greatest accomplishments in life, and looks to the family that they've made. can i finally say that i want these things even though the fear that i may never have them pervades every part of myself? can i stop believing that these are things i don't deserve? i look at the lives of other people and get overwhelmed with what i may be lacking. but what if i looked at my purpose in life as one in which i bless others? what if my daily do's were about how i can serve and love on others instead of how can i find my own happiness apart from other people and really going after my greatest dream? something needs to change. i am not sure exactly what, or how, or when...but today i am beginning to see things differently. i begin today, to go about how i do life, my perspective on things, a little differently. my journey begins, again. i will become who i am meant to be. i may not know exactly what i want to do, but i know the kind of woman i want to be.

certainty.

this month i quietly turned a year older. that is one thing i am certain of. everything else feels quite uncertain. i tried to think of the things i felt sure about and begin to make a list. instead i sat and stared at a blank page for a seemingly endless amount of time. a lot of this month, coinciding with turning a year older, has been encased in sadness. there are so many unknowns that lie before me, and so much heavy weight that has been heaved upon me. sometimes i wish i could take a simple dream like talking a walk in paris, in the rain, under the night sky, with someone i love, a reality. but it only ever seems to remain a dream.

renaissance.

at first i found it hard to understand. what did renaissance have to do with me or my life? i used to think art was veiled. i felt that it required some superior intelligence to make sense of it. i saw art and i could formulate an objective opinion of what it looked like, but beyond that i was at a loss. i create art, or what i like to call art, but would anyone else call it that? i would hear what other people thought, their objective observations, and subjective insights, of art, and i would sink further down, keeping my lack of understanding all to myself. the one thing i always did know, and fully trust, is what art made me feel. i am always in close connection to my emotional response to things such as art, music, and other creatively inspired and nurtured things. But sometimes I don't always know what i think. and the most startling thing about thinking that is realizing that it is our thoughts that further us, that make us. how have i stunted myself? i keep looking at everyone else. i keep admiring these people who invent things, these people whose hands create beauty, these people who fall in love, and have careers, and make families. i watch people who sew, paint, garden, and do work beyond my understanding, and i am in awe. i feel alone, on the outside, as if there is nothing more i can contribute. there are already people out there who write the best words in the best ways. there is already someone who has thought up and painted beautifully, what i've yet to have the courage to put pencil to paper. there are people right now creatively imparting knowledge and cultivating the spiritual development of others in ways i could never even think of doing. there were days i aspired to be more than this. i had this fanciful idea that somehow these things would just come to me, in some sort of magical way. i've allowed hope and expectations to slip away from my grasp. the more i think about what i've let myself lose, the more sad i get. there were days, i thought i'd be an artist. there were days when i thought i was a writer. i call myself a teacher. but what am i really? that is such a paralyzing thought. what am i? i can make myself something. that is such an unbinding thought. i can make my own life. still, even now. there is a renaissance to happen here. this day. today is my renaissance. my renaissance is personal, internal, and deep. It is deliberate, beautiful, and worthy. my renaissance follows my desire to impact the world. this poem is my renaissance-

I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there — I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler — I turned my Being round and round And paused at every pound To ask the Owner's name — For doubt, that I should know the Sound — I judged my features — jarred my hair — I pushed my dimples by, and waited — If they — twinkled back — Conviction might, of me — I told myself, "Take Courage, Friend — That — was a former time — But we might learn to like the Heaven, As well as our Old Home!"

the burden of judgment.

"I have had a few moments in my life during which I felt free from all judgments about others. I felt as if a heavy burden had been taken away from me. At those moments I experienced immense love for everyone I met, heard about, or read about. A deep solidarity with all people and a deep desire to love them broke down my inner walls and made my heart as wide as the universe. Can we free ourselves from the need to judge others? Yes...by claiming for ourselves the truth that we are the beloved sons and daughters of God. (The danger lies in) thinking of ourselves as the sum total of our successes, popularity, and power we become dependent on the ways we judge and are being judged and end up as victims manipulated by the world." ~Henri Nouwen

All I know and fear is the end of relationships when someone truly messes up. We so quickly turn our backs on each other after one screw up. We make it hard to know each other. We create walls, we tell lies, we withhold truth, and we foster distance to avoid real intimacy. We don't want intimacy because we will get hurt. We are constantly looking, assessing, and judging. We change our minds and shift our opinions when actions are unpleasing. We deem others unworthy of grace, salvation, forgiveness, and love because they do not do what we think is right. We equate God to our humanness and we forget the truth of His character. Is it possible to let go of judgment? Is it really a burden God intended us to bear? We create standards that have no association with the creator of our hearts and world. It seems simplistic, but prayer is our answer. Freedom from judgment cannot coexist with fear. Becoming freed from the burden of judgment doesn't happen because of a logical connection. It is not the result of thinking through something. But rather, I believe, the freedom is a result of a connection the heart made in prayer. Change of heart and mind is the result of thoughtful fervent prayer. God, let us be freed from the burden of judgment and embrace your grace and love.

the hero of this tale...

"The hero of my tale, whom I love with all the power of my soul, whom I have tried to portray in all his beauty, who has been, is, and will be beautiful, is Truth." ~Leo Tolstoy

i don't like making decisions. my friends might refer to me as indecisive. however, i like to fancy myself a great decider when it comes right down to it. however, deciding where to eat, or which belt goes best with my navy blue dress, or the best movie time for a date with my nana is a heck of a lot different from decisions such as: should i take that job??? move across the country???? end this relationship????? pursue an unknown, unsure path??????? everyone from the outside looking in says, "yes". a whole hearted, "yes." no hesitations, no second guessing, just, "yes". it's funny how free wheeling we are with advice when it is not our problem. how often do we really consider what the other is going through? i know i fail frequently. but these are my decisions. i think about them, i make them, and more than anyone else they affect me. i know what i want, and then i don't. i change my mind. then i change it back. i make a decision, and then i wonder if i did the right thing. God knows what I want to do. i know i want to, at least a big part of me does...i think. and i do mean God knows in the most sincere sense, because He does. He knows me. He knows my future. one of the many mantras i hold dear and remind myself of from time to time is i don't know what the future holds but i know who holds my future. and i take great comfort in that. truly, i do. but sometimes the way i act, the way i think, doesn't reflect that that i am truly entrusting my unknown future, and my somewhat shaky present to an omniscient, always loving God. today, my heart is broken. i've walked through this past week breaking down at the slightest of things. a differing opinion, an encouraging word, a misunderstanding, a desperate plea, guilt, and fierce love. i am heartbroken over my relationships, over the state of my job situation, over dear friends lost, and dear friends close, over my always ever changing deep flowing desires, over my work defined past, upon my future unknown, and the indecision that plagues my soul. tears threaten to race down my cheeks as i type these words. however, as i finally put some sort of voice to all these hysterical thoughts, fears, feelings, and worries pent up so tightly inside of me it begins to feel as though i am stepping into some sort of freedom. and though i continue to sit in confusion and brokenness, i find hope in the longing to finally lay it all down, and let it go. i'm letting go. i'm letting go. these thoughts, fears, and worries are not mine to carry on my own. there is a hero to this tale. there is a patient and loving voice that informs my great distress. i contemplate him in his hours of great distress, sweating drops of blood, as he agonized before his Father over his fate. His fate that he accepted because of love. love for me. love for you. and suddenly, my decision doesn't seem to be the all encompassing, life or death, kind of thing i've made it out to be. my fears and worries don't seem suffocating anymore. they're still there, but they don't hold the same power. they are His too.

phenomenal woman.

from my own observations, good writers are the ones who write words that cause hearts to smile, and minds to ponder well beyond the stated truth of the words written. those writers are ones who scrutinize with great intimacy the process of life, the world, and the people who live in it. those writers not only produce words that have an enduring quality to them, they somehow too make sense of those words in way that can relate to everyone in some form or fashion. great writers are gifted to discover and communicate.

maya angelou's words do more than that. my explanation of what makes a great writer would never do her justice. her words are like milk and honey. they are rich, like chocolate cake, you can only handle so many bites in one sitting.

i ache to teach this book to young people.

so much beauty and sorrow held hand in hand in her story and her voice:

"the coat was a friend that I hugged to me in the strange and unfriendly place."

"i don't think she ever knew that a deep-brooding love hung over everything she touched. In later years I asked if she loved me and she rushed me off with: 'God is love. Just worry about whether you're being a good girl, then He will love you."

"she was one of the few gentlewomen I have ever known, and has remained throughout my life the measure of what a human being can be."

"i was liked, and what a difference it made. i was respected not as Mrs. Henderson's grandchild or Bailey's sister but for just being Marguerite Johnson."

"I had read A Tale of Two Cities and found it up to my standards as a romantic novel. She opened the first page and I heard poetry for the firs time in my life."

and her poems offer grace and depth of soul:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise...

i read her words, and i hear a story.
i listen to her words, and i feel the passion.
phenomenal.