in the den of lions. [thieves & salesmen]

It’s these moments where I’m most convinced I may be crazy. Where you’re uncomfortable in your own skin and there’s not another to put on. These moments when you realize you are not in control… and even the things in your body you should be able to control, decide to lapse and prove you wrong. The progress falters and becomes a dormant place. There is a thief who stole my joy. I took it back from him, and just while I was singing in it, he crept up unaware behind... his footsteps not heard for the handclaps and shouts and songs. Like a London pickpocket that is so quick and skilled with his hands, the CCTV is unable to detect his movements. A ghost crook. And his shadow has blocked out the sun… yet it’s hotter than ever. There’s an itch I cannot scratch. And I'm evermore aware of myself. I am given a mirror. It's distorted. I know this, but I can't help but look... and I want to hide. Remorse for every mistake, misstep, mishap, every miss is now your cloak, but hiding isn't possible. There is guilt for everything for the past, for the food you ate the night before, for the conversation you had with this person, for the message you received, for everything you did and didn’t have anything to do with. And where there was peace there is now worry. It comes in waves, each one a little more violent than the last. Every wrong is illuminated and made to look larger against this spotlight. Every flaw exacerbated. Grace is turned down and Judgment blares in my ear buds. Just a moment ago, I was reveling in the wide open space of freedom… and now, I am grasping frantically for control. I am too tired to fight it. My exhaustion the foothold and I am paralyzed by fear. My insecurities blown out of proportion until they become the essence of my being. And all I want is to make these things disappear. They block the view of everything. This is how the panic attacks begin. This is how it all creeps in. Like the door flies open and the lions I’ve starved start walking in. The corpses resurrected. They are foaming at the mouth, roaring. I am hunted. I am naked and ashamed and afraid.
Heart beats louder. Eyes fly shut. Crescendo bottoms out into silence.
Only one voice left and it whispers,

“Who told you that you were naked?”

The lions’ mouths shut. Chaos is overwhelmed.
They are sent away.
It’s just you and me here now.

let them bake cakes! [cocoa box]

dearest london friends,
when i return to your fair shores in september, this is where we shall be going:
the cocoa box.
while we are there, we shall be making treats like the ones seen here:

tempted? good. save your pounds and mark your calendars, because this is going to happen.

we have signal.

Doing something extraordinary should never make complete sense to everyone in your life.
-John Acuff

once upon a time, namely this morning, i stumbled across my friend Arley's friend MeLissa's blog. did you follow that? good. on it, there was the above quote, along with a lot of other ridiculously encouraging things. this morning, i needed some courage.

there are a lot of changes about to take place in my world... actually a lot of things are in the process of changing right now. funny, the plan was to move home and get out of debt, and that hasn't really happened. my finances are more organized, but the debt is still a mountain looming... and all the extra money has gone to chipping away at that mountain and to flights and recording and photoshoots and things of that nature. essentially to my music career. my plan was to be with my family and get built back up. lord. if i'd have had any idea what the last couple of years were going to be like... i would've thought you were reading me a cwtv drama script. what happened was the death of so many things... a refining... a time where a newness came to the relational dynamics of my family. what came was a time of grief that was unspeakable... and random adventures in music and in london that i am still glowing from. when the go-getter is learning to wait and persevere and be content in all things, you can't forget to keep your eyes on the prize. i think sometimes there has to be a knock at the door... vision has to show up holding hands with wisdom. and usually they'll hug you and give you some cabin fever. just to remind you not to get too comfortable in the waiting. maybe it's just to remind you of the need to find rest in the tension.

i've known for some time that i wanted to call nashville home on this side of the atlantic. i am still madly in love with london and i will run to her arms whenever she calls my name. coming home to virginia was necessary. absolutely vital. but it's time to pack up and create a home of my own. it's time to think outside of the box and get incredibly creative with this vision. it's time to give this one last run. everything has been dormant and sleeping and dying. i've been screaming and yelling at nature trying to stop winter from happening. i finally just laid my head down and went to sleep like a good little bear and let everything go. but i've just been stirred from my bed and the resurrection of spring is in the air. thing is, you don't wake up one morning and see the fullness of spring. growth is a gradual thing. you've got to see the spring before it arrives... and trust that the seeds are breaking beneath the soil.
and so i've taken weeks to think and reflect and discuss and pray and ponder and wish and resolve...
basically, it's time to get ready to go.
it's hard to do that. stepping back out into the unknown, on your own... away from family.
i am very much 2 people inside. i am a girl with massive dreams and goals... with an adventurous heart. i'm also a girl with very deep roots who just wants to be home.
i'm very very excited.
i am very afraid.
oh and just because it's time to start moving, doesn't mean i need to pick up my 3D glasses that provide my illusion of control.

and so, in the words of Nelson Mandela:

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."

that one they love and i.

We were on first name basis. That one they love and I. That tortured soul began to want me. That troubled heart began to hear my beat. Those weary arms began to weave themselves around me. Carbon copy of Mr. Adams and all of the elite misunderstood.
But in word and deed in principle that darling boy was good.
They work so hard to prove themselves to those who’ll never care. They let alone the ones who will forevermore be there. They shroud themselves in darkness lest the light should overcome their doubts… doubts in themselves. Comparatively speaking, just as good if not better. But the cards and chips have fallen down around the real go-getter, and created mountains calling all they are to overcome. And they sing til they’re undone and curse the place where they are from.
Some just tell good stories about how dark their days have been and dive headlong into trouble so it just sounds interesting. Some of us had demons in our cradles as we slept while heaven sang lullabies to sooth our troubled heads.
He was invited but he heard the words all wrong. So when I said, 'come in', he heard me say ‘get gone'.
We were on a first name basis. That one they love and I. He begged for me, then fled and left me in the angry night.

the coat of my dreams.

burberry prorsum is killing me. again.