vanished in the snow

took november off from blogging because of national novel writing month.  (i met the word count goal but is anything ever really complete? :))

there have been so many changes, both externally and internally.
thanksgiving day came and went right after staring a new job.
(so many things // so different this year)

after a few weeks rest off the road, some decisions and some stress, Christmas tour is in full swing.
eight shows in two and a half weeks. 
i love this so much.
and Christmas music.
and this time of the year in general.

on the road? it doesn't ever haunt me.  at least not in the way the boy with the blond hair asked inside the of song he sent me.
trying to be 'normal'?
that's what gets me.

waking up at the white house this morning, there was a bit of snow on the ground. 
the first snow.
it was coming down and swirling around yesterday while driving up the empty highway. but (like other things recently) i had little hope for it's lasting.
but there was a slight frozen glimmer as golden light filtered over treetops, and the black dog and i tasted the bitter bite of single digit temperatures.


things are moving too fast and sometimes feel very strange

i am stuck in that in-between time.
summer is gone but autumn isn't quite here in all glory.
the air is slightly funny, murky despite the wind.
a small, sad tree limb hangs broken and bent, swaying with green/yellow leaves.

next week is November.
rain and cold will come overnight.
things are moving too fast and sometimes feel very strange,
and I sit on the big porch of the white house
thinking; 'last year at this time...two years ago...three...(etc)
streetlights blink on as light fades.

down the street
there is a big man with a nail gun in the yellow porch light.
the next time I look up, there is also the tall boy with dark hair.
they speak and work, but the nail/word sounds are lost in the wind.

my converse shoes are silent on the concrete
a small plane engine is above.  a vehicle passes.
things are moving too fast and sometimes feel very strange.
i reach the back door
it is locked.
the people inside the white house
didn't even realize i left.




may thru labor day // the new puppy // friends, sisters

those afternoons with my head in the clouds, the wild haze, the backseat views while the two girls sang along loudly from the front seat.  alive.alive.alive. wow what a summer to be alive.
we climbed a hill. i stood alone in a field. a dream became a reality. i tasted tomorrow.

(life is not all good.  hope were dashed, nights were long, change tasted sour in the back of my throat.
discontentment wove its way in and out of my veins, most seconds.
but let's look back, let us remember the good, let us dwell on the blessing.)

always blessings.  always adventures.  always alive.
big fan of this crazy year 2k16 :)



every lesson is good

all those things were said
- and like -
i believed them?
(silly me)

there are ghosts.
song titles and folders in my email.

I   A M   L E A R N I N G

this is a topic, a phrase, a word
that keeps sliding into my mind/feelings/heart and HOPE

funny how we never ever ever ever stop learning things.

hey, I've been learning a lot about time and people and how they think and why and a lot about myself, too.
and growing up things too.  like how i need to sleep a little more or talk a little less to that person, or just how cool it looks to mark my calendar in just the color orange.

what have you guys been learning?

i hope it's been good. (every lesson is good)


choices and changes ~

the shadow of a idea,
the swirling whisper of a dream,
the absence of a person,
and suddenly
I was voicing a thought over the kitchen table the next morning.

the dear one stopped walking
and we conversed for a bit before I had to rush off.
(but when I left, it was with a smile)

i am learning to thrive // not just survive.
i am learning to serve Him // not just be around them.

(i gave her my two weeks notice yesterday afternoon)

and tonight as the long weekend stretched before me
my arms wrapped around my legs and early fall wind in my hair
tipping my head back to drink in the sight of so many stars
i  f e e l   s o 
a f r a i d
b u t
f r e e ~




2015 was the year that i didn't sleep.

11:00 used to be a warning and 12AM one of the rarest sights.
suddenly 1:00 looked early and 3 or 4 very common.
the glowing green clock was just numbers
random to my eyes.

all year-
back of my skull felt heavy, close and distant (all at the same time).
eyes partially dilated from hours and hours in the dark looking at a screen.
waking easily for work and travel after one or two hours of sleep (having never fallen into a deep rest)
but with an ache somewhere behind my lungs
a cough
a hazy train of thought
sore shoulders.

i remember-
how sometimes it got better.
like july in that one hotel (two nights with seven hours)
august when i tried to start new
(but failed)
and then bits and pieces of fall weekends (off and on/sleep and then none).
october was good but then bad, november nice but then drifting...

'how are you'
the simple question they asked in small talk. 
'i'm good, you' 
always the reply (but how do I say...
i don't think i'm okay-wispering to myself 
as I try to focus on shelving books at the library)

it's funny
how something that can be a blissful escape
can turn into something one so insistently avoids.
but darkness can sometimes feel like safety
like protection.

until, that is-
one steps fully into the light.

(lighter days doesn't mean struggle is gone.
true rest isn't found in anything i can do for myself)
- for my only true rest is found in Jesus' loving arms -

(choosing to highlight a big struggle and various small ones by writing this is a very vulnerable but also freeing feeling.  one of the reasons i started this new space was to get away from memories of some old things, but i have no regrets in writing this post.  [my mind feels lighter now that this part of my life is out in the open]
if any of you are struggling with sleeping too much, too little, or just lots of sadness and bad thoughts caused by any number of things, please let me know. i don't always have the right words to say, but i would love to be a friend, offer up a prayer or two, and have you understand that you're not alone.

also a big thanks to each and every person who as commented on my first two posts. i am so excited to be back in the blogging world with such wonderful people.
ya'll make me happy to be alive, and it astounds me that my little projects are appreciated.
thank you beyond words.)



r a i n / r e s t

friday: waking feeling rested, the light around the window shades blue and cool.  
there's a quiet and calm to everything, i sink down and pull the covers up, the patter of rain against glass making me chilly.

the black dog and i venture down the quiet little side streets, and i'm wearing that huge rain jacket. 
(at first i feel a little silly, under the hood that almost covers my eyes, the sleeves rolled in huge bunches.)
but i lift out my arm, my palm, and feel the drops/we splash thru the ditches and wet grass.

the others are still sleeping in the house.
i eat warm food alone in the shadowy kitchen and the cinnamon and oats taste like autumn.  the season seems so close suddenly, with the tastes and the cool air, so i dress in a light sweater of warm colors.

"august doesn't normally mean autumn" but on this morning when the rain falls down and a chill sets in, i almost believe this summer isn't infinite (and that's okay). 
there is a good feeling in my bones.  a motivation but an unhurried-ness at the same time. 
i find myself cross legged on the bed, notebook and pen or guitar/(the things that help me breathe)