.: heart offerings :.

Though I have been feeling overwhelmed in a way that I haven't for some time, I am trying to remain faithful to certain commitments that I have made, one of them being this blog. My head right now is crying out to get busy and stay on task and accomplish what remains on my mental list of things to do. But my heart is drawn to this place, to offer what is here and now alive within me. I cannot help but be encouraged as I consider the many things in my life that I ought to be thankful for. A life that is constantly viewed through a darkly negative lens soon runs dry. And lest I feel the waters of my soul dwindle down to a trickle, I want to confess the blessings that surround me.

A family that loves me, and though sometimes failing, still remains committed to the foundation of love and continual returns to the extension of grace. Friends that come in and out of my life at what is so often the perfect time for such. A foundation provided from a school that I so often feel deeply critical of. A church that is often the target of cynicism come quickly, that extends a deep fellowship with those who share common paths with me, and I with them. A heart that loves deeply, and though easily wounded, is learning how to hope for the reality of things to come - things that even now are manifesting themselves. Someone who loves me in a way I had never anticipated, accompanied with grace in the spaces of my life where I come up short and incomplete. Someone that I am continually set free time and again to love in my own volition, seeing her through His eyes. A life of deep meaning. A being of divine creation, with richly engrained longings. Health that I take for granted. Wisdom beyond what I naturally acknowledge. A sustained spirit of laughter and joy. Places that bear my shape and impact, with those who are encouraged when I am most myself (and then some).

The list continues! Warmth, shelter, protection, and provision. Peace at a level that temporary circumstances cannot touch or control. And salvation, apart from which I would dwell in isolation, panic, insecurity, and desperation. These are the very things that can only wash over me as I so choose to ruminate upon them. A critical and embittered attitude continually stands ready to grant me words that mark my path with frustration. But to reach in, through, and beyond them is to find life and praise and endurance for the miles ahead of me. The journey contains meaning, even when I refuse to hold out for proof of such.