Faithful and Devoted

Timeless and real.
Peace and hopefulness.
Love and security.
Absolution.
Salvation.
Immortality.
Health and vision.
Clarity.
Life.

Everything we want in this world. Everything we all strive to get, hold, and touch. Everything that seems out of our grasp. We run to it, but it seems our tunnel keeps stretching and we have no end in sight. We are lost in darkness. We are chained to the cracked and dirty walls.

But salvation comes.
We see light.
We hear silence and the chatter dissolves around us. It reverberates in our ears and it draws the moisture from our eyes.


Everything we can have through Him.
He is faithful to us and is passionately devoted.
We are his people.
He is the King.
Our Father.
Our God.

He has power over the skies, the waters, the wind, and earth.
He speaks and we tremble.
And how amazing it is, that he is on our side.

Review for Prophecy Revealed (The Soul of Arial #1)

If escaping into this particular book you will enter a world of afterlife like you have never seen it. From fantastic beginning to mind gripping end you will be turning the pages wondering what is going to happen on the next page and then the next chapter and then at the end. Arial's sarcasm is amusing, the Great One's antics are repulsive yet frighteningly funny, and you start wishing that you had a pair of magical wings and beautiful cuffs!

The interactions between the characters flowed naturally and it's just as if you were in the room with them listening to their conversations. The strength and courage that Arial portrays (especially when faced with her need to protect others) is outstanding and is something that we as humans should do daily for each other.

So as the prophecy is revealed I am much looking forward to finding out how exactly this prophecy is handled!

This piece of artwork is highly recommended, and I assure you is a piece that will be remembered and entirely enjoyed. Just be sure you have nothing to do that day. You'll get angry is you have to put it down:)

The link for more information is below!

http://cressenbooks.com/ProphecyRevealedPage.html

Tear Me Down to Build Me Up/ Thoughts And Writing

I was thinking aloud and writing. I hope you enjoy!

But I Am Never Far...

I am timeless.
An old soul that craves conversation and emotion that doesn't involve technology and icons.
I am the lover of flowers and tea out of tea pots on concrete patios with aged round tables.
I am the admirer of gardens and balconies. 
Of stars and sunsets.
I am the reader of solid books. 
The paper aged or fresh, smelling of dreams and faraway places.
I am the girl who runs barefoot in the meadows and splashes in the puddles, wild and careless.
I am the one with her hair filled with tangles and knots but I have better things to do like lay in the sunshine and talk to the birds perched in the trees.
I am the girl with bare fingernails and a fresh face because I'd rather spend my money on something that can fill my soul.
You can find me in thrift stores and at garage sales more than you would a mall. 
When you search for me look in cafe's, coffee shops, tea shops, or anywhere that you can find live music; talking to strangers like I've known them my whole life. I'd be there over a club or popular hangout.
Because I am the girl who would rather listen to someone with their guitar on a small stage working for tips than a spoiled talentless brat who has machines sound good for them on an album.
I am the one who truly is sorry when you feel I am not listening. It's just that my imagination has pulled me into another world once again. 
I do care, I promise.
Please don't shake me awake. Please don't stomp on my visions for the calamity of others. 
Because I am the lover of all things beautiful.
I am the believer of all things good. 
And, no, this does not make me oblivious to the tragedies and messiness of the world we live in. I will be willing to fight for my beliefs when it comes to it. But right now, the time does not call my name. So let me drift. Let me fly. Let me see the potential and colors in others.
Let me see what makes us all so different but yet the same.
Come to me with your problems and I will try to help with my view.
I will be all heart.
In return I ask that you do not suppress and that you do not suffocate.
If I run, let me. I will not go far. And I will always come back.
If I ask you to run with me, please do. I don't ask everyone and I promise I can open up doors.
Because I am the old soul who runs barefoot and lies down in warm summer rains. 
I am the admirer of tea, gardens, and balconies.
I am the one who talks to strangers and is not afraid to dive instead of tip-toe.
I am the lover of flowers and all things timeless.
I am the lover of conversations, family, and friends.
And when I love, I love limitless and deep. I love in acceptance so you can be freed. I love...
I am the hopeful.
I am the faithful.
But please, Dear, be patient with me if I seem far away. I am not. I am only imagining worlds where we both belong as thorough and infinite as the stars I study. 
Know that I will never be far from your side.
  

Sunlight and Tea

It all starts with sunlight and tea.
Colors swirl and blend into something precious and tender.
It begins amazing, like a first kiss or a flicker to a flame and it's as graceful as a ballerina sweeping across a wooden floor in a dance of innocence and magic.
Our life is the dance of all ages.
It's the beat to our drum.
And the magic to the pen that writes our book, chapter by fantastic chapter.
We spin and twirl throughout the day.
We call it monotony.
We call it routine.
We call it anything but what it should be called.
Life.
And we ignore the abundance that overflows.
"My cup overfloweth."
My cup...
Our energies intertwine with other energies and spark off new lights that only our souls can see and our hearts can feel. 
Our eyes are diluted, our senses dulled by words and hate and mockery.
We recall other more beautiful words that make us feel better.
The ones that make us feel alive and freed from any bonds or chains that we have set upon ourselves.
You are beautiful.
You are a mess.
You are so unique. A one of a kind.
You are a tragedy.
You are a kaleidoscope of every human emotion. Every extraordinary experience. 
We search for these letters of meaning because when we look in the mirror we see anything but meaning.
We see recklessness.
We see a smudge of grays blended into a fog.
But it all starts with sunlight and tea.
And some of the most important things that we'll never be able to see in ourselves.
It begins amazing, like a first kiss or a flicker to a flame.
And it ends with moon glow and streetlights.
Our life is the dance of all ages.
It's the beat to our own drum.
It's wild and childlike.
And each chapter we write is permanent. Neither time nor want can erase it from the pages. It cannot be burned or destroyed. That's the magic in the ink. 
That's the timelessness in our souls.
Just as some rob others of theirs we can give to others this thing that we call monotony or routine.
Life. 
That's what it's called.
And it's so beautiful.
Just so in the tragedy of it all as it is in the wonderous dance of it all.
And "My cup overfloweth" Dear Lord. 
My cup...
I am beautiful.
I am a mess.
I am as different as the thorn from the rose.
And I am even a tragedy.
Because I am a kaleidoscope of every human emotion. 
Raw and real and filled to the brim with stardust and pure magic.
And it all starts with sunlight and tea.

Amen

I could be lonely. I could be selfish, and maybe I am. I could be blind. Maybe I'm shaded. I could be the cynical, the hateful and hated.  But I choose love for those who also choose love. Love for each other and the underdog. Love for those losing the battle and who needs a friend to help them fight despite the odds. Love for the war torn country that stands for everything that I believe in. And I love those who love them as well.

I have been blessed in this life with every throbbing beat of my heart and every drop of red that pumps through my veins. I have been given people to love, and so many of them. And I love them all in all different shades and colors of what love can be or mean. I love them without measurement or definition. I love them with the speed of light and sound combined. I love so many that my prayers at night would be hours long if I were to name them with all that they need. And that is blessed, my friend.

Lord God, our Father in heaven,

I pray for protection and safety over my family and all who I hold dear to me. I pray that you heal them in their own individual ways that only you can know of. I pray that you strip them of any illness and make them whole and new. I pray that you give them strength and courage to make the right decisions even if they are tough and mean sacrifice. I pray, Lord, that you help them accomplish what they think to be impossible and that you find a way to let them know that you are always, always with them. That they are never alone, even when they feel like the only one left in the world. I pray that they prosper and persevere and love so flawlessly and unconditionally. I pray they find it in them to always plant their feet firmly on the ground in the morning and that you take away any of their pain. I pray that they know the dawn, orange-bruised sunset, and sparkling shining stars and hold them forever and well in their minds eye, heart and soul. I pray that they hold everything dear to them in places that no man can touch or take away. And finally, we love you, and I pray that you love us the same despite, our let downs, weaknesses, and perfect imperfections. We will never be you or be on your level, but we are loved by you nonetheless and hope that you know, KNOW, that we are grateful. And we know as long as we have our faith, and as long as we hold our hope nothing can really hurt us and we will be okay. We will be just fine. And, God, I pray for a little of the same. Thank you for your blessings and for hearing my prayer.

In your name, I pray this...
Amen.

You. Just Hold On

Let me tell a story.

This is a hard story for me to tell. It's definitely not one I would share to just anyone over a nice dinner. In fact, as I sit and write this, I'm second guessing myself, wondering if I should push that backspace button. Why? Because a very prideful part of me is ashamed, even though I know that I shouldn't be. A very fearful part of me is scared, for so many reasons and none at all.

Once, there was this girl. She was sixteen and curled up at the end of her bed on her bedroom floor. In one hand she clutched a phone as the other hand was balled up at her side. The girls rope lights that hung along her ceiling over her scattered artwork of pieced together posters and magazine clippings shined brightly in gold just as they always did because she was scared to turn them off. She was frightened of what it would feel like in the dark, and she can't remember the last time she slept in it. To her left The Eagles played on her CD player and the blankets and sheets were tossed about, falling haphazardly off of her bed.

This sixteen year old girl, this being who had barely had any time to really live, was drowning. The sea roared in her ears and tugged at her spirit and suffocated her fire. She was a beautiful, respectable, perfectly well- consumed, and remarkable train wreck. She was a ship set on self destruct and a toy in an army of fools. She was a small, yet desirable piece to a wicked set of games, and a empathetic, sensitive piece of a soul that always felt just a little too much and always fell a little too hard. And this girl wasn't even crying. She was sobbing. She wasn't hurt. She was crushed into dust, left to be stepped on. She hadn't just lost a piece of herself and had simply and poetically fallen apart. She was broken into tiny, glittering fragments. And she wasn't just missing something. She was undeniably hollow inside.

She had wondered if anyone would ever miss her as much as she would miss them. Would anyone love her even more than she could ever imagine? Would anyone in this world ever see her? Understand her? Could there ever be anyone to piece her together instead of tear her apart? She felt a pain so real to her at the time, she would do anything to make it stop. And her mind wondered to the darkest parts, the pits that only slide into deeper valleys and trenches. And in these trenches she wondered to herself to what extent would she go to make it all go away.

All because of a boy. A useless, selfish boy that would never know any better, who would never do any better. A boy who cared so little that he didn't even feel when he left a trail of pitiful destruction in his wake. He was a tornado and she was a tree. He was water and she was fire. He was the wolf and she was the mindless sheep. At the time she didn't know this. She didn't know about another more important man that she would meet in less than two years. She didn't know that he would look at her in a way where it felt the world shifted and that she mattered. She didn't know that the smell of leather would become one of her favorite scents and that she would love frosty starlit nights. She didn't know that she would marry this man who was, at the time, in Germany. She didn't know that so many others things would matter and that she would eventually not even be able to recall what that boy really even looked like. She didn't know that over time his face would fade from her memory and that she would never in a million years connect him with the word love. But she should have known. She should have.

I remember this night so clearly. Because I was that sixteen year old girl. It's not because this was my only bad night, because in the course of that toxic relationship I had a lot, A LOT, of bad nights. And it's not because this night really held any kind of epiphany or self revelation for me. In fact, I often wondered why this night has always been held so vividly in my mind. And I think it's because it's the lowest I had been. At such a tender age I had hit rock bottom and went even further down to sink into the black abyss. At only sixteen!

So here's my point. And this is why I am telling this story that may not even matter to some.

It's because I was at such a pivotal time in my life right then. Anything could have tugged me off of one side or the other. Any trivial thing could have swayed me. And that can be scary. In hindsight I don't believe that I would have done anything so permanent and impulsive, but just simply how sad and alone I had felt that night was enough.

But I pressed on and I survived. I saw the sunrise and another sunset and the twinkling of the white light stars. And because of that it all passed. Everything from that night went away and I shed it like a layer of dead skin. And when I awoke I was new again. The day was new again. And I could do anything that I wanted with it. And now, here I am, almost twelve years later, married to that guy who sees me, who loves me, who is loyal to me, who gave me a new appreciation for the smell of leather and frosty starlit nights. And I don't even remember that boy. Because he never mattered in the grand scheme of things. And what has never mattered can be just simply washed away. Clean the slate. Start fresh. Wipe all of the dirtiness of that past self's existence away. Come to terms with your scars, fresh and raw, and then allow them to heal and shine. Don't hide them. Don't be ashamed of them. Because they are your story. They are what make you , you. And they are proof that you've made it through your own personal hells and came out a freaking warrior.

Now? Now I am listening to my eight year old son and six year old daughter play, and then fight, and then play, and then fight in the next room. And that is okay. Because this is what I wanted! This is what I've been blessed with! This is what is in my cards and what I have wanted all along! And the only thing that matters at the end of the day are their pitter patter of footsteps running down the hall, and the two of them talking at bedtime when they are supposed to be asleep, and their bedtime prayer and song, and how they are all of a sudden thirsty when they are curled up under the covers instead of before they climb into bed.What matters at the end of the day is the kiss I get from my husband, our string of shows that we watch loyally every single week and laugh about, the tea that I make us and how I can't put the fitted sheet on our bed so he does it for me.

So what I'm trying to say is, is it all gets better. You, that sixteen year old who stumbled across this. It gets so much better! You are not even close to the peak of the best years of your life. Don't give another thought about that boy that hurt you, or that rumor that was spread, or what people think of you. Move along! Open a new door if one has been slammed on you. There are so many doors out there. Thank God for your opportunities because he's the reason that you have them! Take them and hold on to them for all that you are worth, because you are worth a whole hell of a lot.

This isn't coming from some girl a decade older than you that "thinks" that they understand you, or "thinks" that they have been there. I'm telling you. I HAVE been there. I HAVE had my heart shatter, rumors spread about me, and my blood spilled. I have been worried over and have done the worrying. I have been to therapy and have made tons of mistakes. And I will STILL tell you. It. Gets. Better. It gets...heavenly.

Trust me. This stranger telling you this. Because one day, when you do pull through, and you are content and happy and filled to the top with laughter and love, you will remember this. And you'll finally realize that I was right.

So hold on. Hold on damn tight. And  wait for it. Wait patiently. Because in the end, it will all be worth it.