Teach me what it means to begin again.

Hello there friends!

Since you all have eyes, I'm assuming you've noticed there have been some changes around here!  What compelled me to make such a change, you ask?

Well, first of all, today has been a sniffling, coughing, blowing-my-nose-every-two-seconds kind of day, and also, it's a blizzard outside.  Thus, I stayed home from school, and have been in bed for most of the day trying to recoup.

Secondly, if I had to pick one word to describe my life right now, I would probably choose "transition."  I have been in the middle of a lot of things for a long time, and slowly but surely am starting to emerge from what was into what is.

In light of this hunger for something fresh, as well as my new-found Kleenex-accompanied free time, an idea popped into my head, and something inside me said, It is time for a makeover!

So I edited and coordinated and finagled and finessed, and voila!  "These Songs I Sing" has a new look!

Now, if only the "my actual life" part was that easy.

Oh friends, it has been a considerably rough time for me for quite a while now here in my corner of the world, and I've felt it very deeply.  Never before have I felt so lost and unsure of myself and who I wanted to be.  I've spent a lot of time asking questions, searching my heart, and answering other people's questions, trying to explain the mess that lay before me.  But most every time I would come away with some new discovery, some new growth, some new hope for the future.  I mean, sure, there were definitely times when I needed to just cry and eat ice cream in my bed, but even then, even in the darkest moments, I felt something.  Something in the deepest part of me that I couldn't always grasp.  Something saying, "It's time to begin again, sweetheart."

Now, I'm going to be real with each and every one of you reading this: I hate change. Like, a lot. And I think part of why this whole transitional stage has been so hard is because I had this idea in my head of what I was supposed to have, supposed to want, supposed to be.  And I couldn't wrap my mind around that fact that I was wrong - that God had something different in store, and that it really was okay - perhaps even glorious?

I mean, it isn't easy to feel glorious when you're choking on your tears and snot and saliva and feeling certain the whole house can hear you bawling.

But even still, every time I wrestled with my situation, that idea, that hope of something new would press on my heart - and every time I would fight it.

"But this isn't the way it's supposed to be!"
"But I messed everything up!"
"But I don't deserve a brand new start."

Oh darling - yes you do.  And there is not one person who would tell you otherwise.  You are totally allowed to pick yourself up and move on.  You do not have to live here forever.  You do not need to bear this forever.  You are allowed to begin again.

I don't know what exactly it will look like, or what it will take.  But I'm finally starting to let myself believe that it's possible, that it's okay, that it's right, to move forward, to start fresh, to begin again.

Oh Lord, speak to my heart. Teach me what it means to begin again.

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