Lauren Reavely

Picking up the (proverbial) pen again

Rants, HappeningsLauren Edmonds2 Comments

It's been a long time since I've written anything. I'll jot a note in my journal now and again, but I used to find this blog as an outlet for my thoughts and dreams and passions. I would write not only to be heard, but to better listen, to tune my own heart to hear what God was telling me. 

And in the more recent rush and chaos of business to-do lists, photo editing, website updates, design projects, and emails to send, I've kept brushing off the simple and sweet habit of picking up a pen and writing. To sit and be. To hear and verbalize. 

To rest and internalize takes intention. 

So it's a Sunday afternoon and the house is completely calm and I'm sitting down to remind you to also breath. Despite what you feel (and the maybe not so calm space and schedule surrounding you), your life is more than a series of dizzying cycles, more than a hopeless survival. Oh I get it, life can be insane. And when it's everything we can do to stay afloat, we don't have time to find deep significance and hidden signs of glory. But if we don't, we drown. 

This week was filled with a dull 40-hour workload of shirts to iron and steam. Lunch breaks found me editing pictures and planning music for church this Sunday. Evenings were spent at meetings, get togethers, or music practice. Add in some early mornings at church serving coffee to high schoolers and by Friday, I couldn't stand to hear that alarm go off again. But you know what my desperation gave me? More than a hunger for more time, it gave me a thirst for the Divine, for some trace of His kind hand in this chaos. I fought to see what He had for me in this. 

And ironically, the more I looked the more I saw: His goodness was everywhere! 

I can't tell you where you'll find it and what will catch your eye and cause the expression of praise. But I can tell that if you look, you will find. And utter a verbal, "Thank you!" Because He wants to convince you that YOU are dearly loved. How sad that we instead consume ourselves with lies that whisper the opposite. 

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A friend of mine sends me a text each Sunday: "Lauren, what's good??" And we talk about what's good. Not out of denial of what's hard, but out of the choice to talk about our joys and acknowledge these golden days. So I in turn ask you: 

What's good?