Devotions

  God, I don't even know how to title this post.  And when I say "God," I'm not using it as an exaggeratory phrase. I'm talking to you, Jesus. That's right -- the Creator of the universe who for some reason chooses to have a relationship with little old me. Wow. That sheds some perspective.  Here's the thing, though-- I'm still feeling super directionless at the moment. You told me to rest and I still don't know how. I know from past experience what it feels like to be chasing after a calling You've placed on my life, and I don't feel like I'm really doing that right now. Especially because you told me to rest . How can that be my "calling?" You're always challenging your children to grow, and MAN does it feel like a challenge for me to stop doing things. To stop running hard. To sit down. To rest.  I heard very clearly from You about the need to rest, and so I tried to be obedient. I cut out a few things from my crazy sch...

If you know me, you know I'm not the best at pivoting from "the plan." I wanted to title this post "Go with the Flow," but it felt too weird for me to write. Unnatural. I'll get to the "dancing" bit in a minute... The phrase "go with the flow" has just been stuck on the brain and felt the need to start out that way. As I'm learning to trust God more, the more I'm finding that His ways are not only better for me, but stronger than mine... He's going to get His way regardless. His good and perfect way. And since I'm still stuck on this whole "calling" thing (thanks, John Mark Comer's  Garden City ), I've been meeting with trusted friends and mentors to speak some truth over next steps in my career. I'm excited to share that after countless coffees, phone calls, texts, and root beers, I think I've found the answer! Are you ready?  Are you sure? The answer is: just go with the flow. ... ...WHAT?! Th...

When I was 12 years old, I learned how to do a round-off back hand-spring. It took me months of private lessons at the local YMCA and many, many awkward moments of trying to do a standing back hand-spring with my instructor "spotting me," only for me to chicken out at the last minute and come crashing into her... the full weight of my body... plummeting onto her as I apologized and said, "I'm sorry... I just can't do it!" It was so embarrassing-- with her holding her hand under my back and supporting my awkward pre-teen body while I continuously failed, over and over, somewhere between 10-15 times a lesson. Nevertheless, I persisted. I was able to do the thing eventually - literally once - all by myself. For a panel of cheerleading coaches during 7th-grade try-outs. And once I didn't make the team, I never did it again. You may be asking, " Why did you do that, Carly? Why did you try so hard at something you never even kept up with? Wasn't tha...

The air smells like rain. It rained much earlier today, but ironically, in the heat of summer, the air seems frozen in time. It is warm, but not hot. Evening. On a Tuesday... my last Tuesday of summer break.  Something was drawing me outside tonight... the way the sun's rays were entering our home and dancing on the piano made me wonder what the sky must look like from our front porch. I caught glimpses of what I had imagined it must look like outside... on our now-pink tinted walls, through warm, orange cracks in the curtains. I had to see what the sky looked like, in all of its full glory. The tiny glimpses I caught through the glass pieces in our door just weren't cutting it. And so, I opened the door, breathed in the rain-air, and stepped outside.  I've been sitting out here for about twenty minutes now, and it's already dark. I caught the last look at the orange-pink sky setting behind the houses across the street. There's heat lightening flashing across the ne...

Well, it's that time of year again. The sun is high in the summer sky, the chicken kabobs are outside grilling, and the smell of sunscreen and chlorine are floating off my skin as I smell my armpits to check if I need to shower or not. And I am craving juice. So, a few hours ago I trotted down the cool basement stairs to find my favorite $6 Salvation Army find: a Hamilton Beach home juicer (by far the best ever "AS IS" thrift store gamble that I've ever made). I washed it off, turned it on, and started making some fresh juice. Three hours later, I think I should be good on juice for... basically forever, actually.  But as it turns out, after three hours of being home alone on a Friday night, dancing around your kitchen to OneRepublic and telling your speaker, "Alexa, VOLUME UP!", you tend to get pretty introspective. I think it's because the repetitive motion of chopping apples and shoving them into the top hole of the juicer brings back all the memori...

 I logged on to write today and then I read my last post from back in November. I actually laughed out loud. If you didn't read it, it's actually not ground-breaking or even inspiring, really... it's just a rant about how busy I am and how hurried my life is under the yoke of never-ending to-do lists. I laughed because upon reading it today, the day I finished The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer, it seemed pretty ironic, don't you think? It was almost as if God were smiling on me and saying, "I see you, Carly. I see how you showed up to be with me today, on your Sabbath. I am with you and I want to breathe life into you."  And boy, do I need some life . Spring is coming and I'm eagerly awaiting the new beginnings it can bring-- it seems like this winter has been a long one. It's been cold and I've been in this constant state of fatigue for the past four months or so. It's been a slow-moving winter but somehow it also feels so ...