a gift.

I like to read. The thought of curling up next to a fire with a really good book and a comfy blanket will never stop sounding appealing. Lately, I like to read even more because I like to write...in my journal, on post it notes, on my blog, anywhere really. Words are the forefront of everything it seems. To produce a movie, there has to be a script. To sing a song, there has to be words. And to call someone, you have to speak.

[via weheartit]

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we talked like we wrote. It seems to me that we would be in less trouble, we wouldn't talk back to people as much, and we would not say things we did not mean. The thing about it though, is that when you talk to someone, face to face, it is much harder than writing. And much more rewarding. Telling someone something is more difficult than writing them a note. Because it takes courage. It takes their reaction into consideration because you watch it play out, right then and there. Which is what makes telling them all the more special. That is why it is so important that we tell the people we love how much they mean to us and how glad we are that they are in our life. That they have stuck around despite the fact that now they really know us. They do not just see us at our best, but they see us at our worst, and they do not run off. So the least we can do is say thank you.

The thing about writing though, is that it inspires us. It is what inspires us to share and speak and show wisdom. Words, written down, are timeless. People have been writing for ages, and here we are today, and people are still writing. That makes it a pretty big deal I guess. The Bible is the most beautifully written book. One that I never grow tired of, and one that I always come back to, thinking, why did I ever live a day without the truth. When I read it, I discover, I learn, I repent, and I love. It is these words that have caused people to do great things, say great things, and share with the world the love of a Savior that matters most. The book that is a daily reminder of who God is and how much he loves us, just in case we ever forget. And it is these words that connect us back to the believers that lived before us, because we are all reading the same stories.

[via etsy]

What a gift God has given us.

cousin.

I have some cousins, but I would like to talk about one in particular. How rude of me to wait this long to introduce you. His name is Troy Cartwright Dixon. Musically though, he goes by Troy Cartwright. Isn't that artsy and neat of him? This was partly because there was another Troy Dixon already out there, and he wanted none of that. The real Troy is extremely talented and is cool enough to attend Berklee College of Music in Boston. Not only is he gifted musically, but he is smart, well-read, knows the news like the back of his hand and is just plain funny. He wrote a song for his sister, Shay, who is getting married to a very special boy on September 24. I like them both a lot, but I like them even more together. More on that later. You can listen to Troy's jam here. And I say jam lightly...it is kind of Damien Rice-y so if you are into that you will definitely like it. The words are so simple. So sweet. Go and see for yourself.

Love you T-roy.

happy birthday lauren.

Today is your day.

You are so dear to me, my roommate and my friend and everything in between. So happy to celebrate your life with you. Here's to your 21st birthday and the many more birthdays yet to come!

home.

I like my home. The one with the trampoline in the front yard, the hammock on the porch and awkward sayings written on the brick that I thought would be funny. They aren't. It is where I have lived the past two years. Sure, some of my roommates have changed, the decorations have progressed, and neighbors have moved in and out, but deep down it feels the same as it did when I first moved in. Somehow consistent, despite all of the changes. Some changes have been more welcomed than others. The picture below was taken when I visited Waco the summer after my freshman year. I had no idea what memories this house would hold. And no idea the grass would never again look this good. You should see it now...shambles.

At the start, I was a little jealous of my friends who were moving into cute houses or apartments with pretty countertops or places with driveways. Now I realize, what a foolish thought that was. I would not trade my house for anything in the world. The experiences I have shared, lived, and witnessed in this home are so dear to me. And though we do not always get along perfectly or I forget to buy the toilet paper or the dishes pile up in the sink, it all seems petty when I think about the real stuff. The relationships and the love that are intertwined in this place. I have even grown accustomed to hearing the boys downstairs, waking up when Lauren showers in the morning, and trying to cram all of our (mostly their) groceries into the fridge. I love the creepy alley and the noise the shambly tiles make when you walk on them.

It is here where I am fully myself. It is here where I have learned to be by myself. And it is here where I have fallen more in love with Jesus and discovered that life only makes sense with Him. It is here where I come back to after weekend trips and feel a sense of relief to be back where I belong. It is here where I do not have to be perfect. Where I won't get judged for watching the O.C. on a Saturday night and eating cookies and milk. It is where I can come home crying and be comforted or come home estactic and be rejoiced with. It is here where I have faced harsh realities about myself and about life that have caused me to refocus and grow in a way that has been refreshing and much needed, even when I didn't agree. I know that this place will not always be my home. I know that change is good, and that living in a place a certain amount of years is not what makes it a home. I know all of this. Which makes me want to wear this home out even more in this coming year, because it is all I have left.

But it is comforting to know that there are no specific qualifications of what a home should be or how it should look or even who should live in it. Maybe home can't even be defined as a specific place, but see that's the thing. Home means something different to everyone. Because everyone needs somewhere where they can feel at home. I think we all long for a place of stability, a place of calmness, a place that is ours. A place that may not matter to someone else, a visitor or a friend, but it doesn't bother you because it is not their home, but your home. And it makes sense to you.

my friend emily.

This past weekend, Em and I ventured to the blessed city of Austin, Texas. It was refreshing and wonderful and full of happiness. We drove with the windows down and the music too loud because we are 21 and we can. I let my bare feet hang out of the car, but Emily kept hers in the car since she had to drive. We felt the wind on our faces and worshipped and sang and danced. We drove up and down the driveway at the lake, because it is hilly and fun when Emily speeds up towards the end. We talked about life and jesus and how those are pretty much interchangeable. We tried to tackle fears and questions. At the lake we layed out and soaked up the warm sun, jumped off of the dock into the freezing cold water, kayaked awkwardly in a kayak for one, and literally danced like no one was watching (but sometimes we did have an audience...Emily bowed to a boy). We shopped at Anthro, perused the isles at Book People, ate sandwiches and muffins on the patio of Whole Foods, and drank yummy champagne in small little glasses with frozen strawberries and tiny spoons.



As, we were driving home, I began to think that this weekend wasn't simply fun because of everything we did. It was fun because of who I got to do it with. I am thankful for my friend Emily. Thankful that we share in the same truth. Thankful that the fun isn't over just because we are not in Austin. And even though she goes to bed at like 10, I am thankful that I have the fun with me in Waco. Susie, if you are reading this, I think you are fun too. You too Sara. And Will. And the Will I have not met, I hear you are pretty fun as well.. Thank you for letting me into your home and for teaching me even though you probably don't even realize that you did. That is the best kind of teaching I think.

"All who share in this activity will be our companions; but the ones who share something more will be our friends. In this kind of love, Do you love me? means Do you see the same truth?--or at least, 'Do you care about the same truth?' The man who agrees with us that some question, little regarded by others, is of great importance can be our friend. He need not agree with us about the answer."
C.S. Lewis

two things you've told me...

that you are strong

that you love me.

-jon foreman

satisfy.

I will never forget that morning. Even if I wanted to. I remember trying so hard to ingrain it into my brain. To plant my feet in that very spot so I would never have to leave. Reminding myself to never forget that pure and easy joy and satisfaction I felt that day. You see, I was in Honduras that morning. I had just completed an obstacle course that had begun at 5 a.m. I should have felt tired and worn out, but I didn't feel that way. I looked like I got run over, and I smelled like a garbage disposal. I should have felt ugly and gross, but I didn't. Because that morning none of that mattered. Honestly, I wish I could say none of those things ever matter to me, but that is not the truth. That morning, God stilled my soul in a way that I will never forget. It was more than a feeling. More than a realization. It was a glimpse of what true satisfaction is. Moreover, what heaven beckons. I wanted to stay there forever, right there in that very place where it was just me and Him. Remembering that place of true satisfaction, not with who I was or am, but who he was and is. Here's to finding my fulfillment in Him daily and learning from time spent with Jesus.

"Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days." Psalm 90:14