beautifully rooted || her story.

{photo by Kinsey Mhire}

It was hot, and I was so tired – from the sun, yes, but also from just being me.

I was burnt out and hurting, and my life was a mess.

When I went to the well that day, I expected the water to fill me up again, to take away the heat of the day, to replenish my empty batteries.

Instead, I met Him, and my life has never been the same. 

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted || signs.

{photo by Jahnvi}

Sometimes we see the signs, but we look straight through them. We tend to look for something bigger, clearer, and we miss what's right in front of us.

Last month, I tearfully confessed to my husband I'd been feeling discontent with my job and with my career. I longed for a change, but I wasn't sure what that change would look like. Together, we took that need to the Father. We chose to pray boldly, asking for opened doors and new opportunities.

One week later, I had a job offer to run a bookstore in my hometown.

I was thrilled, but I was also hesitant. I worried about money, about job security, about working retail, about missing Saturday football games.

Despite a fairly clearcut sign from above -- an out-of-the-blue job offer I never in a million years could have anticipated -- I needed more proof.

I needed more than the sign I'd been given.

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted || peer pressure.

{photo by Carin Davis}

My cousin graduated from high school last month, and the pastor at her baccalaureate service said something I'm sure I've heard before. I'm sure it's been whispered to me by my mother in moments of frustration, sure I may have been offered the same advice and instruction at my own high school graduation eight years ago. But somehow, I have forgotten it, and the words which may have fallen on the deaf ears of a crowd of high school students fell perfectly into my own listening ones.

Peer pressure doesn't end after high school.

That's it. That's the big resounding truth that I've been turning over in my head these last few weeks, the thought that surfaced to the top as I reached for any idea suitable for this month's post.

I've been struggling lately. I think that's normal; I hear your 20s are all about self-discovery, about figuring out who you are and where you want to be. I was relatively prepared for this. I was ready to ask myself questions and mull over answers and start making changes. What I didn't expect was the backlash I'd receive from peers, the frustration those I love would exhibit when I decided to step back a little, when the answers I gave and the discoveries I made led to changes, big and small.

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted || date night.

{photo by Nina Leen}

In our home, every Friday night is date night.

We go out to dinner, see a movie, browse at the bookstore, order pizza, grab dessert, watch the latest offering on Netflix, attend “First Friday” art festivals, head out on mini road trips… What we actually wind up doing often depends on our mood, on what kind of week we’ve had and what kind of weekend we need. The plans may change, but the stamp on the calendar remains.

Friday night is date night.

It’s good practice, I think, regardless of whether we have children right now. One day, when we do have little ones to take care of, Jordan and I will be in the habit of spending time together. We will know what it means to — in the middle of a busy week and life — take purposeful time out of our schedules and dedicate it to each other.

What I’m learning, though, is that I’ve got another date night in my life I’m equally dedicated to.

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted || the spirit.

{photo by Michael Mitchell}

Nothing good I do is me.

It's taken me a while to really believe this, to acknowledge that the good I do isn't me at all, but is Someone else entirely, moving and breathing and working in spite of me.

He's doing the work. I'm just partnering. I'm just letting Him take over.

The good that I do and the love that I show isn't me. It's not my nature. I wish that it was, but it's not.

It's Him. It's Someone else who has taken over, body, mind, and soul.

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted || boundaries, part ii.

{photo by Carl Zoch}

I’m a “yes” girl, a people-pleaser. I hate disappointing those I love, and while I wouldn’t like to admit it, there have been times with that fear of disappointment has led me to relationships that often became one-sided, friendships in which I became the giver and someone else the taker.

And it’s hard, isn’t it, because there’s a voice in the back of my head asking “What would Jesus do?” and the verses that spot Him quietly approaching the mountain top alone just can’t be found in my addled brain. Instead, I find verses about turning the other cheek, about giving someone my shirt when my coat has been taken.

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted || boundaries, part i.

{photo by Sara Sani}

At the beginning of this year, my life was a little bit out of control. I was muddling through grief, through past church hurts, through difficult friendships, and just through life in general. I kept wondering when God was going to send me a reprieve. When was the sun going to finally break through the clouds of my heart?

The answer came not in flashes of lightening or in burning bushes, but in the simple reminder that sometimes, we have to choose.

We have to choose what kind of person we want to be. And that person? She just can’t do everything.

Sometimes, we have to say no to be able to say yes.

We have to set boundaries in order to finally be free.

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted || the god of all comfort.

{photo by Justin Chung}

Grief and sorrow are hard things, and sometimes, the road mourners travel becomes a very lonely one. Friends are uneasy, unsure what to do in times of trial, and their uncertainty cripples them to do nothing. Others offer to do something, but leave it up to the mourner to decide what. Still others retreat, thinking being distant and quiet is what the mourner needs.

The Lord and I had several conversations throughout the month of January. When other friends were not as understanding as I would have hoped, I decided: I could mope and whine and complain about my loneliness and their treatment of my grief, or one day, I could become the comforter. I could comfort in the ways God was teaching me were good, compassionate, and kind.

God was turning me from a sympathizer into an empathizer.

Read today's post over on Beautifully Rooted.

beautifully rooted.

{photo by Alec Vanderboom}

God is a constant surprise.

That’s how I felt when, about a month ago, in the middle of my family’s mourning period, sweet Rachel contacted me to ask if I’d be a contributing writer for Beautifully Rooted, a new blogging project she and Heather were starting.

I couldn’t have been more surprised or more thrilled.

God was answering my prayers in ways I never expected.

You see, a little over a year ago, my mentoring and teaching opportunity at my church began to fade away. For reasons I can’t quite explain (but, happily, I have finally accepted), God wanted me somewhere else, wanted my gifts to be used in ways it’s taken me a long time to fully realize.

I know a lot of people think blogging is at its best, silly, and at its worst, narcissistic. They don’t understand why I choose to put my words and my life on the Internet for all the world to see, and quite frankly, there are days I don’t really understand it either. But I keep writing, mostly because I need to get the words out, and blogging seems to be the best medium to do that.

Over the years, God has shown me, though, that blogging is more than just a way to purge the words. It’s community, yes, but it’s also ministry. I’ve been blessed and challenged by so many of the words I read online, and it’s my hope that this very tiny blip on the Internet offers some of you that same comfort.

It’s my hope that, perhaps in ways far different than I ever envisioned for myself, this place where I choose to put my words every day serves as ministry.

Two Novembers ago, I felt silenced. I felt like the gift I’d been given as a daughter of the King had been taken from me unfairly. I was angry, hurt, and probably more bitter than I’d like to admit.

It’s taken a while, but He has shown me — as He always does — that He is faithful. He is constantly providing me with new ways to use my gifts. And even though they aren’t necessarily the ways I would have chosen for myself, I am beginning to wonder if they aren’t better, if they aren’t more far-reaching and God-honoring than the more traditional outlets I would have chosen.

That’s the thing that I am learning about this God I serve: He is so much bigger than I make Him.

I don’t know what He will choose to do with Beautifully Rooted, with the women and the words that come to rest there.

But I do know I am so glad to be a part, not just because of the ministry I believe it will provide, but because it has served as a reminder to me that God is faithful, and when it comes to who He is and what He has in store? I should always be prepared to be surprised.

Beautifully Rooted launches today, and you can now find me there once a week, sharing my thoughts on faith and the Father. I hope you'll wander over if you get the chance and explore a little. Heather and Rachel have created something special, and I can't wait to see what He does with it all.