an ocean of love.

A couple weeks ago Danny and I were down in El Segundo- our little home away from home, a pocket of paradise.  We went for a run and were about a mile and a half out when we reached El Porto, where there is a wall of rocks that is a perfect sitting place to watch the surfers do their thing.  I knew Danny had some more gas in him, so I told him to leave me there for a bit of quiet time while he continued the run. 

The day before we were at the same beach, and I sat on the sand telling Graham how big my love is for him...that it's constant like the waves, deep, mysterious, and unending.  When I tell him how much I love him, he just soaks every bit of it up with his big brown eyes and sweet dimpled grin.  It's one of my favorite things to do- explain my love for him.

When I was sitting on that rock I was remembering my time with my son.  But as I was looking out over that beautiful ocean I was on the other side.  My Abba was reminding me of his love- his constant, deep, mysterious, unending love.  I could've soaked in that spot all day.

When Danny came back for me, we kept running and I was alive with a new energy.  Something about being reminded of who you are and how you're loved can do that to you.  When we were almost home, I asked Danny if he wanted to swim in the beach.  He laughed, because that's a little (ok, a lot?) unlike me, but when he looked at my eyes he knew I was serious.  We took off our shoes and ran right in.  I floated, soaked, swam, and immersed myself in that water.

But really, I floated, soaked, swam, and immersed myself in His love.

The last stretch of our run is this steep, long, exhausting hill.  I dread that hill and it takes everything in me to get up it without walking.  But this time, in my soaking wet running clothes, I made it up confidently.  It's incredible what we can do when we immerse ourselves in the love of the Father.

Soak it up, my friends!  Your Abba loves you.

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!" -John 3:1



My dad lost his battle to ALS at the age of 32.  When you're a 9 year old child, 32 sounds so, well, old.  I remember the words 'He was so young...' swirling around me, but never being able to grasp the depth of how true that statement was.  If I'm being honest, I'm not sure I ever understood the way ALS stole the young, vibrant, and fruitful life of my father.  Until this past May.

I'm not one to put a huge weight on dates or numbers.  So you can imagine my surprise when, the week before my precious husband turned 32, I found my heart to be solemn and even anxious.

He was so young...

I let my mind go there, just for a bit.  (Every once in a while, we must let our mind go there...) How would I be able to function if I lost my husband?  How on earth would I survive watching my husband's life being robbed by terminal illness?

I couldn't.  I wouldn't.

One man who has had one of the strongest influences on my life spirituality, Pastor Tim, has often talked about this.  I've heard him talk countless times about his Abba Father and how, even if he lost his entire family and his world as he knows it came crashing in, Jesus would be enough.  And I struggled through it every time.

He couldn't.  He wouldn't.

Then Africa.

The day I left for my mission trip to Lesotho, Danny gave me an envelope of notes.  12 of them, to be exact.  So I could be reminded of his love every day.  (Swoon! Oh I love him!)  I put them next to my passport (the thing one takes the best care of while traveling abroad) and fought the urge to read all of them on my first flight.

But then I fell in love.  Again.  Through writing, through reading, through experiencing Him in every interaction, I fell in love with Jesus as the lover of my soul.  I was so immersed in His Word and Presence that I experienced this crazy, radical contentment.  Even as I type this I know I can't possibly put words to what I experience.

He was enough.

And because why stop being honest now, I can tell you that I forgot about the other 11 notes from my beloved husband.  The love of my Abba was enough and I was dependent on Him alone.  Zephaniah 3:17 says, "The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves.  He takes great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing."

So 32, terminal illness, accidents and disease and every other scary thing in this world... if it took everything away and all I had left was the love of my Abba Father (because Romans 8:38), I'd not only survive, for the first time ever, I know I'd be okay.

I could.  I would.


so here i go.

I recently went on a trip.  You know those B.C./A.D. moments of your life?  The ones where the experience was so life-altering that the before-you feels like a somewhat different person than the after-you?  We've all had them.  Falling in love, having children, taking a career risk... and I'll add to my timeline my trip to Lesotho, Africa.

So much happened there, far too much to talk about over one cup of coffee, much less a blog post.  But I will certainly make an attempt to explain.

One such happening was an awakening of my love for writing.  While on my trip I woke early, which is not an abnormality for my everyday life.  Rather, I woke alone.  Just me, a cup of instant coffee, my Bible, and my journal.  And I wrote.  Oh, did I write.  The pen flowed and the pages flipped and I felt like my heart and mind woke up from a deep sleep- one that I kept slumbering for far too long.  

So I'm going to write (blog) again.  I'm going to do it because I feel God working and teaching me and I know I have a responsibility to share these things.  I'm both excited and terrified, as fear itself is the thing that stopped me over a year ago.  But more than that, I'm ready.  God has given us all a voice and a mind and a heart, and for that reason alone whatever we have to say (write) is worth it.  So here I go!  

Thanks for joining me for the ride!