I feel what I feel when I need to feel it. I let myself feel it, and then I move on when I have felt it. I’m not dwelling, but I’m not lying to myself either. God is good. I am joyful. I have hope. I have love. … I’m learning how to be healthy. And I’m learning that healthy for me doesn’t always look normal or make everyone comfortable. … I’m learning to give myself breaks when I need them, to cry when I need to, to laugh more than I cry, to tell people only the things I feel led to tell them, to trust God alone, to guard my heart, to take risks, to sing whenever I want to, that it’s okay to be polite and gentle and kind and that I don’t have to put on a “tough” face… that my heart is not impenetrable and that that is a gift… I’m learning to read and go on walks and keep things between just God and I.
“I think people expect too much from marriage today,” he said. “They expect perfection. Every moment should be bliss. That’s TV or movies. But that is not the human experience. Twenty good minutes here, forty good minutes there, it adds up to something beautiful. The trick is when things aren’t so great, you don’t junk the whole thing. It’s okay to have an argument. It’s okay that the other one nudges you a little, bothers you a little. It’s part of being close to someone. But the joy you get from that same closeness – when you watch your children, when you wake up and smile at each other – that is a blessing. People forget that.”—Mitch Albom
im sitting here eating oatmeal and starting to panic because i’m stressed out but then i remembered that there’s only so much that i can control and that things will work out if i take them one step at a time.
so im going to eat the rest of this oatmeal and make this day my bitch.
OKAY I’M DOWN. LETS KICK TODAY’S ASS. well you know. lovingly.
There is something so precious when your eyes capture a man doing what he loves. To watch a man’s hand unconscious but deliberate in its movements. Watch as these attached and original tools craft something distinctly his. Entire being devoted to a task that heals the man’s soul.
i roll the window down and then begin to breathe in the darkest country road and the strongest scent of evergreen from the passenger seat as you are driving me home. then looking upwards, i strain my eyes and try to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites from the passenger seat as you are driving me home. "do they collide?" i ask, and you smile. with my feet on the dash the world doesn’t matter. when you feel embarrassed, i’ll be your pride. when you need direction, i’ll be the guide. for all time.
“But then she said something I thought was wise. She said she had married a guy, and he was just a guy. He wasn’t going to make all her problems go away, because he was just a guy. And that freed her to really love him as a guy, not an ultimate problem solver. And because her husband believed she was just a girl, he was free to really love her too. Neither needed the other to make everything okay. They were simply content to have good company through life’s conflicts. I thought that was beautiful.”— Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years
"would you marry him right this second?" "that’s a dumb question. i wouldn’t marry me right this second.”
love builds each other up; it is work, it is progress, and it definitely has a beginning in which it is not in a state worthy of something so glorious as marriage. no need to rush my friends. no need to rush.
that being said, never settle: LOVE BUILDS UP. and that goes both ways.
Morning is bursting with a warmth that is tangibly sweet against a canvas of incomprehensibly lovely stars and wrapped in the kind of darkness that hints at miracles in the making and all I can think is, “Where in the world does sadness come from?”
all this thinspo advocating eating disorders. i know it isn’t new to the tumblr world, but…
i’ve been there, where the hunger becomes a rewarding cycle, but it royally fucks with your head and your body and i wish i could just grab these girls by the arms and tell them they are beautiful and that i love them until they finally hear me.
“I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.”—F Scott Fitzgerald.
This is the part of the story where I smile and say that I am finding out more and more every second how to be without explanation, how to smile without pressure, how to love without agenda, how to laugh as long as I want and as hard as I want to. This is the place where I run my finger across the same sentence again and again so that I will remember it. This is the part where I restart the same song again and again because I have been feeling constantly like I am at the beginning, like everything is before me and I have nothing to lose and everything is my choice. Isn’t it wonderful? I have eyelashes and fingers, and sometimes my voice cracks when I sing. Isn’t that wonderful? Yesterday, I ran around the inside of an empty house with big New York eyes and remembered that the rest of my life belongs to me and the creator of the universe, and yesterday He told me that He liked me and He was delighted to watch me grow, that saving me was His pleasure, that I had never been His burden and that I didn’t need to feel like anyone else’s either. There’s a bird chirping outside of my window and I just started reading a fantastic book out loud to my room mate. I have toes and opinions and elbows and I can make noises. Isn’t it wonderful?