A Letter to My Younger Self

You are destined for wonderful adventures
but you are also destined for mistakes
Do not hold your wide eyes and open hands too closely to the idea of being perfect
It will only lead to self loathing at 2 AM
When all you can do is analyze every mistake you made that day
or that week, or that year
Instead, know that your hands may fail you
and your feet may wander down dangerous trails of thought
But you will surprise yourself consistently with how well you bounce back
How quickly your mind adapts to new places and new people and new shoes to fill

Stay away from the ones who do not care for you well
You were not made to conveniently fit into the life of someone who calls you beautiful
Sometimes people will make you feel like you are a wallflower
At least be a daisy, a sunflower
Something that makes others smile
And try not to let them grind your self esteem down to a grain of sand
Sand is too soft, they'll walk all over you
Instead be wood chips, pine needles, even cactus spikes
Do not be afraid to leave a lasting impression

You probably won't grow to be as tall as you hoped for
but do not get too caught up on size
Focus instead on how big your heart is, how big you love
Make sure you go out of your way to help flowers bloom in sidewalk cracks
And every now and then, take a step back
and marvel at how much good there really is in this world
even if you have to squint your eyes and tilt your head to see it sometimes
It's there, I promise
Darkness will always threaten to seep into your pores
but don't let it get too comfortable
You were made by a God who knows darkness like no other
And yet He still calls it light

There will be days when you're running incredibly late
and your clothes don't sit the way you want them too
and you haven't done your math homework yet
(you'll probably never do your math homework)
But trust me, it's not the end of the world
You will have days when you can't lift your head off the pillow
and people you know will leave this world far too young
and teachers will place limits on your future with red pen and raised eyebrows
and all you'll want to do is retreat into your own bones
But it still will not be the end of the world

Because your world is just beginning
You will have first kisses and road trips and nights where you eat way too much ice cream
You will dwell in the pages of far too many good books
and learn to not read people too quickly when you meet them
You will sing on stages and sing in churches and learn to tell the difference between the two
There will be weeks when everything feels so incredibly right
and weeks when you're in over your head
Do not waste too much time trying to do it all on your own
You may be strong, but your arms will never be able to hold
all that you try to put on your plate
And always remember that you will never be too far from others' love and grace

Things That Sweden Taught Me

Sometimes God yells and dances and claps Her hands
But sometimes She quietly whispers hymns through fields of yellow flowers
Just because things aren't happening loudly doesn't mean they aren't happening at all
And I think we've begun to forget that there is power in stillness
There is power in being small
That some days your feet have to stop moving
so that your mind can stop too

I'm convinced that the best medicine is Scripture and a strong cup of coffee
That days spent laying in the grass are not days wasted at all
Quiet revivals can rumble in cafes and countrysides and cathedrals
Volume is not necessarily noise, it's just the amount of space taken up
Maybe we should let Her fill in the silence more often
instead of rushing to do it ourselves
In fact, She's quite skilled at creating something out of nothing
Painting beautiful scenery out of ashes and mud

We've become all too littered with desires and destructive decisions
But when you are seemingly plucked from all that you know
it becomes easier to examine the core of who you are
Maybe we're best when taken out of context
I don't think I'll every truly know what it feels like to be comfortably home
But I can remain comfortable in knowing that there are pieces of Home all over this Earth
Reflections of a God that is unfathomably vast
I'm grateful that we're never expected to bear Her image alone

If you listen hard enough, you'll hear the footsteps of brave people
walking down cobblestone streets
Fountains catching coins and laughing at silly wishes
secretly hoping that they will come true
First dates and first prayers and first times for everything
You'll hear children's laughter breaking down barriers
And directions given to strangers
I'm grateful that "Hallelujah" is the same in every language

Are We There Yet?

The soles of my feet were not created with road maps printed on them
I am a wanderer with a capital "A" for "Always searching"
But You don't mind
You never let me wander alone
It's dangerous out there with broken streetlights
judgement hidden in cracks, broken glass
You leave the 99 and take a walk with me so I can clear my mind
Sometimes it takes all night and we greet the Sun with tired knees and course voices
And You tuck me into a bed of grace saying "Goodnight my wanderer"

Lately I've been trying to sneak You into the pockets of strangers
Hoping that compassion could be contagious
It's easy to think that I am doing nothing by giving away smiles and yellow flowers
But You are doing big things in me
If only I could borrow Your eyes for a moment
so that I could look at people the way they need to be seen
Just a glimpse from You and they would know
Know that you love them from their split ends to their elbows to their baby toes
Know that you love them for their past and their present and all they are going to be

If only I wasn't so easily distracted
so consistently egocentric
Wrapped up in my own planned out plans
Staring at my hands not wanting to get them dirty
If only I was able to trust in you as I trust that the ground below my feet will always hold me up
And that the sky above my head will always stay there
If only my default mode wasn't "maybe some other time"
If only I fully understood how it could be that I am Yours and You are mine

And still You love my "If only"s
After all, You wrote my story
And even on days where I feel like I am defined by misjudgment and mistakes
When I let my own self get in the way
You sit by my side and let me catch my breath
Reminding me that this isn't the end, this isn't where I'm meant to be
apart from Your joy, apart from Your glory
Like a little child in the backseat I keep asking "Are we there yet?"
You taken my broken hallelujahs and call me by name
You write out thank you notes in the budding trees saying
"See, I told you winter wouldn't last forever"