Nothing but time.

The moment I jumped off the tractor the sticky-sweet vapors of Suncrisp, Macintosh, and Granny Smith wafted through my body as I instinctively closed my eyes, and took a slow, deep breath, turning my face toward the blazing autumn sun.

Without even deliberately trying I was stopped short by the beauty of my surroundings. As my boots left behind the ethereal dust cloud that formed when I hit the dry, dirt ground, I looked around and realized that upon first glance there was nothing particularly astounding about where I was. Rows of trees that had lost the bottom half of their fruit from the eager, early-in-the-season apple pickers. Overgrown grass threaded through with vines, ensnaring the unsuspecting, happy-go-lucky people uniformed in chestnut brown riding boots and plaid button-downs who have decided to spend the day reaching up tree trunks and weaving themselves in-between branches in hopes of finding that one shiny, perfect, succulent, unblemished apple. Apple picking is kind of strange when you think about it, right? So why do we love it?

When I was a kid I would have said, "Because it's fun." Plain and simple. Now though, I would say that apple picking last Sunday helped me to stop and appreciate the beauty of this world. The beauty that is astounding yet we look at it as if it isn't. I'd say that apple picking helped me to simply be still and soak in with gratitude and thanksgiving this place I've been so graciously be allowed to inhabit. 

Sophia Bush once said, "Places and people affect me so much that sometimes a conversation with a stranger can reduce me to tears. And that's why I fight for them. For people. For the places, and the ways of life, that they love."  

If you asked me to give a reason for any decision I've made I'll likely tell you something along the lines of that quote. 

          I traveled to Nicaragua last July to help build a clean water well because I believe in fighting for a person's humanity. 

          I was heavily involved in family ministries at my church because somewhere along the course of my life this world masked my memory of the truth that Jesus loved me so much that he died for me. Tangibly feeling what that actually means, feeling the weight of God's insurmountable glory, changed my life so I fought with hope that anyone who first learned that as a child would never forget that. 

          I’m further pursuing my own education (read: fumbling through grad school), so that I can pursue a career where I can be one of the fiercest advocates a child can have so that I may provide them with the tools to fight for themselves, the places, and the ways of life, that they love.

Yet, somewhere along the way I stopped fighting for myself. For me and the places, and the way of life, that I love.

So, I’ve decided to take a step back. Actually, a few steps back from many of the things I was doing.

My goal is to just be. To fight for myself by being still. To be still by choosing to fill my Saturday afternoons and the entirety of my Sundays with nothing but time. Time to read, time to create, time to write, time to spend getting to better know the people in my life. Time to spend listening to God, talking to him, getting to know him better. 

I’m expectant for these days of revival. As I breathe in all of the beauty around me and share it with others - just as the the world shares it with us, like letting us take it's apples and using rain to color our gardens in the spring - and as I gratefully accept all of the blessings and explore the joys of places new and old, I’m eager to untie the ribbons of all of the gifts I’ve been carelessly stuffing into a corner, telling myself that I’d get to them one day.

...One day after I’m certain that everyone else is taken care of. Now, I’m excited to keep working toward a place where I can best take care of others because I've first learned how to take care of myself.

When I opened blogger to write this post, I had no idea how to start it. My working title was literally, "COMING UP WITH THIS TITLE IS GOING TO KILL ME" (dramatic, I know). The truth is, we really don't know what we're doing - but we're going to, for what seems like the 3927047th time, give this blog a shot. Because like I told a group of second graders yesterday, "It's okay to not know how to do something, but it's not okay to not try. And if you get stuck, you try again. Now, keep writing, because you can do this." 

Clothed in gratitude, Psalm 46:10, & a short reel of the beauty I've created and consumed as of late,  

02 July 2013:  Nicaragua, tienes todo de mi corazón. 
Para siempre.

13 October 2013: Apple picking with my parents :)

18 October 2013: Serving with the Relief Bus in Newark, NJ.

Current workout obsession. Try it. You can thank me later.

Currently reading. Definite recommendation.

05 October 2013 The Color Run, round 3.

Love that this has become a tradition for us, and love that this course ran through our alma mater. #mules