On Being A Bubble

Who's ever blown a super ginormous bubble (not the gum kind) that you make everyone stop and look at because it is the size of your head? *show of hands* When making such a bubble you blow reeeeeally slowly and if it almost blows out too soon you STOP. (because who wants a bunch of baby bubbles?) You want the queen -no- KING of bubbles. Yes? You can relate to this moment?
Good. I'm coming back to it.

I have three pretty dominant parts of myself in a very non-twofaced way:
1. I have my artsy fartsy creative part. (If its meant to look pretty I'll probably try my hand at it at least once.)
2. Mushy Mom part. (It's the huggy, cheesy joke, baby whisperer part.)
3. My stubborn, headstrong side. (Generally more of a curse than a blessing.)
And in those three slices of me I could split into just about 1million interests.
1,000,000. That's a LOT.

There have been a few moments in the past year or so where I've thought, "YES! I KNOW what I'm gonna do with my life this is IT. It's what God made me for."
And I'm still feeling those. The problem is I'm also feeling all those other 999,998 interests. And on TOP of THOSE, I know that God has some idea that will blow all of my million out of the water. Right out. Like there's a shark in that water and my ideas are people. Boom. Out of the water.

So. Back to the bubbles.
My million interests are those little tiny sudsy bubbles. The kind that if you just blow really fast they fly around in the hundereds. I could just lose patience, say, "Yes I like that." And go settle with a tiny bit of everything cause it's cute and quick.

But since I'm the bubble juice(yep. bubble juice), and God's the really patient kid blowing the bubble, he will not let me split into a bunch of tiny little bubbles. Oh no, he's making the super soaker of all bubbles. MEGAtron bubble. The one that you think just might replace the moon. And everytime I try to jump the gun he pulls me back. But I can feel that bubble growing. That slow steady wind he's breathing.

And its scary and slow and exciting. Chances are, you're in this bubble stage too. Hang in there. It'll be really good.

xo,
Courtney 

Compromise

I weep for you,
for all that you've become
For the lies that you believe,
For the path that you now run.
I weep for you.
In your moments of quiet when you blame others for your pain
But we can't case your disquiet.
I weep for us.
For the hearts you nearly broke
I'm not the only one to recognize the points of which I spoke.
I weep for those
who've given up when they see you've left the fight
And for everyone who will never know just what you were like.

You threw in your towel you said it's over now.
You pulled out your name and say you're different now.
You walked far away with that sad scowl and I miss who you were.

I mourn for you.
Though your body still is breathing
I lost you at that moment when being alive just became living.
I mourn for you.
I'm sure your own words haunt you.
Their truth is unbroken and they miss being spoken.

I mourn the memories that lost their sweet cause they remind me of you and they remind you of me.
I mourn the light you carried
It was contagious, you were strong.
That light is gone.

You threw in your towel you said it's over now.
You pulled out your name and say you're different now.
You walked far away with that sad scowl and I miss who you were.

Cookbooks & Un-Quitting

  

There i was. Gazing up at the wall of cook books. I took a step back and saw there were three more sections on this topic. The bindings looked at me like "Who dares approach the great wall of cook books?" I took one off the shelf and immediately put it back and walked away with slightly less beautiful posture. "I quit."

  On the ride home i thought of my lifetime ahead of quesodillas and salads and simple pastas. "I can live with that...as long as i only cook for myself." Another defeat. I thought of my headache, my dizziness, my fatigue. I'd perfected the "I can live with that" a couple months ago when i decided the prayer was too big; like that wall of books at Barnes & Nobles. 

  I laid my head back and thought of how just that morning i'd been SO sure that this was the day things would change and as soon as they didn't right away i quit. My dad was right when he said that this is how people end up with lifelong illnesses, i mean listen to me! Pathetic.

  

"No," This wasn't right. "Heck, if i can knit, crochet, and sew clothes, i can cook like the domestic person i am! And the sun might be setting on today, but tomorrow might be the day i wake up better!" 

  I'd talked about it with my mom but thinking of it as my own sounded so right. The more i thought of living like that the more something stirred a little inside of me. Like my heart was already cooking up a big batch of faith. (cheesy but too appropriate). 

 "Oh and i know, i'll blog about my little cooking battles along with my faith victories....so others can be encouraged by scriptures and honesty and of course, recipes (and maybe a few failed recipes). But i'm not quitting. Especially not on being well. Cause "his love never quits"and neither should i." 

So many ideas. Finally. Inspiration again. Yes. This is what i've been waiting for.  

_______________________________________________

Thank you for reading the strangely written peak into my thoughts. I'll hopefully have a recipe post up soon. But seriously, don't forget that Jesus doesn't quit!! And never let the cook books make you feel like you only belong in the craft section;)

xoxo,

Courtney 

My love, My king.

I'm in love with a God.
I'm in love with a man.
He found me in my hopeless place
And takes me as I am.

As a babe he chose me
Filled my broken lungs with song.
Forever i know he's faithful.
Same in battle as when it's won.

He wrote me into being
As he did all men and stars.
And he broke for my redeeming.
So I find comfort in his scars.

Daily I'm reminded that I'm as cracked as these streets.
But he has filled my gaping emptiness, that others wouldn't crash because of me.

Sing a song as babes of God!
Lift your eyes, Detroit, to HIS fist!
So what if we are crippled, unarmed and alarmingly unfit?!

Oh, he is mightier, no avenger so fierce.
No story lovelier, it brings grown men to tears.

A feared king is my love. He is my destiny.
He is my courage. When all stamina has left me.
He is Jesus. And he leads me by my cold little hand.
He is the blood father, the proud father, the longing father, the loving father,
of this run-away land.

{Hearing Through A Deaf Girl}

Disclaimer: this will be a long post, but one very well worth reading. (so grab your knitting and tea). Ok here we go...

   Since January i have had the privilege of hugging, dancing with, and ministering to the bestest kids in the world in our Encourage service in Hamtramck alongside some pretty cool folks.

   One little munchkin in particular has become so endeared to me. Her name is Myra. When we first met her she was shy and unstable but now as you watch her run around and laugh with the other kids you would hardly suspect her great challenge. Myra is deaf. A deaf child, though incredibly intelligent, requires extra love and patience and i get to be the key person to spend time with her. I've learned so much about communication, patience and prayer through interacting with her. 

  She's spunky though. Girl's got personality, which often means calming her down poses as a difficult task. But one thing i discovered last Sunday that really calms her down is rocking and humming. She can feel my voice in my stomach when i hold her and she LOVES it. Her eyes twinkle when she feels it cause she knows that it goes with whatever my mouth is saying. So now she'll jump in my arms and press really tightly so she can really feel my song and sometimes she'll hum along. It's magical. And once she's calm, we'll play a game of slide and she'll read my lips as i count aloud. Needless to say, these times are super important to both of us. 

  Last night as i was praying for Myra and thinking of those beautiful moments God pointed out an amazing parallel. (gettin to the juicy stuff here, folks) Just like Myra, humans can't hear God with normal senses. And in our deafness we're aimless and confused and unstable. We'll make games of running away from him (Myra thinks hiding from me is so fun). And we pout and throw fits when he doesn't chase us or give us our way. 

  

  But if we'd run and throw ourselves into God's arms, we could feel his voice, read his lips and feel his rhythms. The tighter we hold, the more distinctly we'll feel it, in all of it's calming wonder. Sure, it means giving up running and screaming and playing naughty games. 

But we'll learn his games of slide, grow familiar with his features and smell. 

And we'll hear him.

  I don't know how long i'll be in Myra's life or really, how long i'll get to have her in mine. But as long as i am, i will work to not only communicate MY love for her, but Christ's love for her. We're all deaf unless we're living on God's lap. And i don't know about you, but i prefer his songs over my confusion.

  So yeah. If you read all the way to here, props to you. I hope this post didn't inspire you; but instead challenged you to hear God more. You have the same need that Myra does. Lucky for you it's not a girl who learned sign language from blues clues trying to teach you;)

XOXO,

Courtney Ann

6 things in Spring

Spring has sprung (I actually hate that phrase) in Detroit. Yesterday was warm and sunny, today is rainy and crisp. Much to my mother's chagrin, I think today is beautiful. So here are six rainy day things I love about spring.

1. Little green things. Grass, crocuses, daffodils, tulips, hyacinths, I love watching their little kelly green heads poke up all around.

2. Mud. I have many fond memories with mud. Who doesn't love a good mud pie? And though I don't play in it anymore, it's still fun.

3. Apparel. In spring you get to wear nearly all of your wardrobe within a few months and in every combo. Sweaters and sandals, boots and tees, it's great.

4. Puddles. Again, I'm not exactly hopping through a ton, but I love the way the trees on my street reflect in them.

5. Smell. I know a lot of people don't like how early spring smells, but I love the smell of new grass and rain. It's like the earth just woke up and spritzed perfume.

6. Rain. Don't hate me for it, but I love spring rain on sorta warm days. Probably because it makes me pretend I'm in England...

Here are some pics from my lovely walk with my pup this afternoon.
Happy spring everyone!
Xoxo, Courtney

Happy Lovie Day

http://m.youtube.com/watch?desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Db3x_XavMp54&v=b3x_XavMp54&gl=US

Found this cute video that captures the sweet moments spent with the sweet hearts in your life.

Xoxo,
Courtney