collected thoughts, x

Words have not come easy the past couple of weeks. I flounder in letters and punctuation marks, holding my breath to stop the panic in the spaces between conscious and unconscious thought. It’s funny because I don’t know what that means. It’s funny because I don’t know what to do, and God knows but he’s not telling me.


I wrote a poem about watching and surrendering then turned it into a song because the poem was too personal.


Summer is the time for fireflies, for moonlit laughter, for brown eyes to dull into sunburned hues and nonexistent blues no one will ever fall for. At least, they never have. And although I know my worth is not determined by the love of man, and I know it’s wrong to idolize romance, it’d be nice to love someone who actually loves me back for once.


Do you ever get the feeling that you’re being watched?


I guess there’s no fast-forward button. We’re stuck here in this limbo, this constant reaching and never finding, planning and waiting for it all to fall apart. And clocking out of social media feels like betrayal, like I shouldn’t be doing that. But all the evidence I need is found in how, the last time I logged into Facebook, I found myself seething with anger at strangers and friends alike, a ‘like’ the most dangerous form of commerce I know.


The spotted lanternfly jumps three times and then grows weary, or so I’ve heard. It’s an invasive species, feasting on grapes and barley and maple trees. They’re everywhere, limping into the path or whizzing by windows to announce their speckled and orange presence to desperate farmers and worried homeowners. Sometimes the rural-ish isn’t as pleasant as the pictures say. They say nothing about the bugs and the dust rolling through a hot summer’s day.


I’ve found that peppermint is a natural enough remedy for summer allergies.


Lord, what am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to follow you? Am I placing too much fear in “the right decision” and not enough trust in your provision?

One response to “collected thoughts, x”

  1. […] biblical story of Mary and Martha showed up in my quiet time right on the heels of writing a recent blog post, which I ended with the words, “Lord, what am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to follow […]


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