I’ll go where you will lead me, Lord.

song of the day/hour/moment:

also song of the day/hour/moment, but for less profound reasons that have to do with our apartment not having A/C and not huge, potentially life (or at least next year)-changing reasons (gotta keep it light, people):

more to come. maybe. or maybe i’ll just leave you all (as in the two people that consistently read this lol) dangling in suspense for the rest of eternity. ♥



“artists in medieval times did not sign their work. it never occurred to them to do so… their art was a gift meant to point away from themselves and toward the God who gave it. they were safely hidden in Christ, free from the tyranny of the self. they knew the great truth that they were nothing more and nothing less than children of a great King who had been entrusted with a sacred task: to win praise for their Lord. knowing who we are is the hiddenness of humility. it is believing that the giftedness we may indeed possess is not of our own making, that the purpose of its being given is not that we might gain attention or praise for ourselves, but that we might respond in gratitude with our best creative effort to win praise for the One who first gave the gift.” – michael card, scribbling in the sand

this song is hitting home for me. hard hard hard. in the best of ways.

sometimes God whispers, sometimes he shouts, and sometimes he sings through my spotify discover playlist.

“slow down child, you don’t have to work for love anymore.”

– ktl

amtrak thoughts

life in motion.JPG

i’m on my way back to pittsburgh today! it’s always bittersweet saying see you later to my friends and family back home, but it’s also with a thrill of excitement that i step onto the train platform (and then a thrill of panic when i realize i’m on the wrong side and rush to the other just as the engine comes steaming in. always an adventure, friends.)

within the past couple of years, trains have become my favorite mode of travel. they lack the airport stress and inner ear discomfort of flying, and while the views may not be quite as spectacular as seeing the world sprawled out like a map beneath you, they’re still something to marvel at. i love the hours of peace, solitude and reflection they provide, their gentle invitation to spend time with the thoughts i’ve often been neglecting. they’re an opportunity to let go of the hustle-bustle for a period of time and allow myself to gaze out the window at the mountains and rivers rolling by — without feeling guilty over the fact that there are a hundred more productive things i could be doing instead.

the place i’m currently in is a lot like that. i have a month and a half left of undergrad before i’m tossed into what people call the real world. i’m subletting a room in a house full of gracious and quirky friends until the end of the summer. i’m living and working in the city i’ve come to call home, but my internship and my apartment have a deadline.

after that, i’m back to square one. or maybe more accurately square zero, since this is the first time i’ve ever had not the slightest clue what comes next.

for the longest time, the thought of graduating college and being thrust into actual adulthood filled my stomach with dread. i refused to dwell on it long enough for it to become a reality. i’ve never been a planner, but i also don’t like having an empty schedule. i find comfort in opening up google calendar and seeing the rainbow of little boxes telling me what to expect for the upcoming day or week or month, and knowing that those colorful boxes turn white after august is downright terrifying.

however, recently God has been teaching me how to live this life in the inbetween. he has been showing me what true rest looks like after four years of full schedules and last-minute study sessions, of panicked paper writing and tearful all-nighters. (don’t get me wrong, education is great. procrastination is not. if you know me at all, you’ll know that i am a master of the latter.) he has been opening my eyes to see that i’ve been fumbling around in the dark for the longest time, trying to find the light switch on my own when he’s been holding out a lamp all along.

he’s been teaching me to trust him in the waiting, to put all of my hope in his love for me and and to offer my fear of the future into his hands every single day – moment by moment, breath by breath. he’s been helping me to embrace this time of transition as a gift, not a curse or a failure or something to be ashamed of.

he’s teaching me to enjoy the train ride.

“eternity is not for later. God weaves eternity into our minutes. every day, he is creating minute after minute, and he hands us the grace we need for each one as they come. worry and anxiety show up when we try to rush ahead into the minutes that haven’t been made yet. there is no art in anxiety.” – emily p. freeman, a million little ways

– ktl

these unexpected past few days at home have brought a lot of things into perspective for me. i am thankful.

(more reflections to come during my six-hour train ride back to the burgh tomorrow)

words to chew on (gently because I just had dental work done)

I’m slow, not prolific. I have to think and concentrate to get anything done. I’m disorganized and messy. I speak when I should shut up and shut up when I should speak. And my head’s shaped like a light bulb. Just because I don’t like something about myself doesn’t mean it’s sin. Sometimes I worry more over those parts than the parts that are sin. Isn’t there enough of the sin to worry about without micro-managing the unique aspects of your personality? If who you are is random, then yeah, go on a self-improvement program. But if you think God is in control of the whole thing of you, and he made you on purpose for a reason, and you try to be someone else, who will be you?

-Gary Morland, “Trust Looks Like”

dancing on the moon

^seriously though, please check out isla vista worship. i’ve been listening to them on repeat for the past thirty-six hours.

this is just a brief post to say i am alive and well and not sure what i’m doing with my life. i will be in pittsburgh interning for a publishing company/finishing up undergrad for the next two months, and after that the future is a blank canvas. (this metaphor is a little more comforting than “black hole” or “swirling vortex of terror.”) in the meantime, i’m enjoying the time i have left in the city that i love with people i love even more, drinking absurd amounts of bubble tea, and learning a lot about myself and a whole lot about God.

one of my goals for this summer is to update my blog somewhat consistently, and i want to try really hard to make this one of those rare things i say i’m gonna do and actually do it. even if my posts are about the length (or shorter than) this one, because writing only a little is better than not writing at all and the best way to kill productivity is by putting too much pressure on yourself.

so with that being said, catch ya on the flippity flip. ♥

– ktl