A New Season - Sacred Intent
After spending some time to focus in and reflect on my priorities, I’ve come to a decision regarding His Love Prevails. My sense of direction regarding this blog has become nonexistent, and thus, I’ve decided to scrap His Love Prevails and instead start anew with fresh direction, purpose, and intention.
I desire so much to glorify Christ in every regard - even while on Tumblr. I also wish to grow deeper in our relationship, dear reader, as I want nothing more than to build you up, encourage you, pray for you, and simply get to know you more.
And so, I now introduce you to the new home of my innermost thoughts and ramblings…Sacred Intent.
(Source: mmrn)
My Heart is Steadfast (Psalm 103) | Ellie Holcomb
What if our souls are made up of a million fragile fibers, shattered scraps, forgotten filaments?
What if deception holds us captive, so that the string between the eyes of the body and those of the heart can no longer discern the difference any longer? What is whole, what is broken? All is meaningless, all is vain – all the same.
The physical, the divine; the indwelling pieces, the external parts – all the same, all blended and intertwined. No, no longer mere resemblances, two worlds collide, slowly becoming one. Losing all matchlessness, gaining mere nothingness; Now abiding into the unknown darkness, the vast depth, as day collides with night. Atoms resounding, sounds atoning as creation cries out, as flesh and bone abide within. Slowly shattering, slowly gathering…
Every delicate fiber of our beings were once bound together, a great many score ago. Once glorious, emanating light, splendor, though now shattered in darkness, scattered by the rushing wind all around, all consuming. The breeze is deceiving; gentle in nature, disastrous in intent. With one breath, dust and dirt, fibers and filaments becoming the same; all tarnished, all tainted – all the same.
Shall we remain in pieces evermore? Shall we forever chase after the wind? All is meaningless, all is vain…
What if our souls are made up of a million fragile fibers, shattered scraps, forgotten filaments?
Shall we ever be whole?
Date a girl who writes.
Date a girl who may never wear completely clean clothes, because of coffee stains and ink spills. She’ll have many problems with her closet space, and her laptop is never boring because there are so many words, so many worlds that she’s cluttered amidst the space. Tabs open filled with obscure and popular music. Interesting factoids about Catherine the Great, and the immortality of jellyfish. Laugh it off when she tells you that she forgot to clean her room, that her clothes are lost among the binders so it’ll take her longer to get ready, that her shoes hidden under the mountain of broken Bic pens and the refurbished laptop that she’s saved for ever since she was twelve.
Kiss her under the lamppost, when it’s raining. Tell her your definition of love.
Find a girl who writes. You’ll know that she has a sense of humor, a sense of empathy and kindness, and that she will dream up worlds, universes for you. She’s the one with the faintest of shadows underneath her eyelids, the one who smells of coffee and Coca-cola and jasmine green tea. You see that girl hunched over a notebook. That’s the writer. With her fingers occasionally smudged with charcoal, with ink that will travel onto your hands when you interlock your fingers with her’s. She will never stop, churning out adventures, of traitors and heroes. Darkness and light. Fear and love. That’s the writer. She can never resist filling a blank page with words, whatever the color of the page is.
She’s the girl reading while waiting for her coffee and tea. She’s the quiet girl with her music turned up loud (or impossibly quiet), separating the two of you by an ocean of crescendos and decrescendos as she’s thinking of the perfect words. If you take a peek at her cup, the tea or coffee’s already cold. She’s already forgotten it.
Use a pick-up line with her if she doesn’t look to busy.
If she raises her head, offer to buy her another cup of coffee. Or of tea. She’ll repay you with stories. If she closes her laptop, give her your critique of Tolstoy, and your best theories of Hannibal and the Crossing. Tell her your characters, your dreams, and ask if she gotten through her first novel.
It is hard to date a girl who writes. But be patient with her. Give her books for her birthday, pretty notebooks for Christmas and for anniversaries, moleskins and bookmarks and many, many books. Give her the gift of words, for writers are talkative people, and they are verbose in their thanks. Let her know that you’re behind her every step of the way, for the lines between fiction and reality are fluid.
She’ll give you a chance.
Don’t lie to her. She’ll understand the syntax behind your words. She’ll be disappointed by your lies, but a girl who writes will understand. She’ll understand that sometimes even the greatest heroes fail, and that happy endings take time, both in fiction and reality. She’s realistic. A girl who writes isn’t impatient; she will understand your flaws. She will cherish them, because a girl who writes will understand plot. She’ll understand that endings happen for better or for worst.
A girl who writes will not expect perfection from you. Her narratives are rich, her characters are multifaceted because of interesting flaws. She’ll understand that a good book does not have perfect characters; villains and tragic flaws are the salt of books. She’ll understand trouble, because it spices up her story. No author wants an invincible hero; the girl who writes will understand that you are only human.
Be her compatriot, be her darling, her love, her dream, her world.
If you find a girl who writes, keep her close. If you find her at two AM, typing furiously, the neon gaze of the light illuminating her furrowed forehead, place a blanket gently on her so that she does not catch a chill. Make her a pot of tea, and sit with her. You may lose her to her world for a few moments, but she will come back to you, brimming with treasure. You will believe in her every single time, the two of you illuminated only by the computer screen, but invincible in the darkness.
She is your Shahrazad. When you are afraid of the dark, she will guide you, her words turning into lanterns, turning into lights and stars and candles that will guide you through your darkest times. She’ll be the one to save you.
She’ll whisk you away on a hot air balloon, and you will be smitten with her. She’s mischievous, frisky, yet she’s quiet and when she has to kill off a lovely character, when she cries, hold her and tell her that it will be alright.
You will propose to her. Maybe on a boat in the ocean, maybe in a little cottage in the Appalachian Mountains. Maybe in New York City. Maybe Chicago. Baltimore. Maybe outside her publisher’s office. Because she’s radiant, wherever she goes. Maybe even outside of a cinema where the two of you kiss in the rain. She’ll say that it is overused and clichéd, but the glint in her eyes will tell you that she appreciates it all the same.
You will smile hard as she talks a mile a second, and your heart will skip a beat when she holds your hand and she will write stories of your lives together. She’ll hold you close and whisper secrets into your ears. She’s lovely, remember that. She’s self made and she’s brilliant. Her names for the children might be terrible, but you’ll be okay with that. A girl who writes will tell your children fantastical stories.
Because that is the best part about a girl who writes. She has imagination and she has courage, and it will be enough. She’ll save you in the oceans of her dreams, and she’ll be your catharsis and your 11:11. She’ll be your firebird and she’ll be your knight, and she’ll become your world, in the curve of her smile, in the hazel of her eye the half-dimple on her face, the words that are pouring out of her, a torrent, a wave, a crescendo - so many sensations that you will be left breathless by a girl who writes.
Maybe she’s not the best at grammar, but that is okay.
Date a girl who writes because you deserve it. She’s witty, she’s empathetic, enigmatic at times and she’s lovely. She’s got the most colorful life. She may be living in NYC or she may be living in a small cottage. Date a girl who writes because a girl who writes reads.
A girl who writes will understand reality. She’ll be infuriating at times, and maybe sometimes you will hate her. Sometimes she will hate you too. But a girl who writes understands human nature, and she will understand that you are weak. She will not leave on the Midnight Train the first moment that things go sour. She will understand that real life isn’t like a story, because while she works in stories, she lives in reality.
Date a girl who writes.
Because there is nothing better then a girl who writes.(Photography by June)
(Source: korraful)
Where are they hiding? All the things we should know but somehow never do. All the secrets that stay that way and the translations of life that get lost as they are passed down over the years and moments that fill the spaces between our bones. Do we know them, have we always known them? Are they lost inside us, covered with the sediment of experience and failure, longing and the quiet acquiescence to the many responsibilities we bury ourselves in? How did we forget that the most homesick you will ever feel is when you are finally standing on the porch, but have not yet put the key to the lock turned the knob to the door, and stepped inside? That weight and wait sound the same for a reason, and the longer you do the latter, the more you can feel the former. The heavier it becomes and perhaps this, exactly and precisely this, is why when old age catches up, inches have been erased from our proud and former height. We shrink under the immeasurable and invisible weight of the wait, no matter what we are waiting for. Who told us the best truth that what’s simple is true and it is our fault that so often we hold a simple thing, only to let it tarnish in the dirty water of false complications? We stare into our outstretched palms and rather than rejoice in the perfection we’ve stumbled upon, each perfect minute and fragile breath, we find ways to pick it apart. We look for flaws instead of features, cracks instead of character. We lose it somehow and somewhere along the way, that life is short. Short in that there will never be enough time to do the things we need to do, and absolutely never enough time to tell those we need to tell all the things we need to tell them. Say them. Shout them. Scream them or whisper. Your voice will know the volume when it finds the ears that need the words. Say them because tomorrow is not a promise, it is a hope. Say them because they deserve to hear them and say them because your voice will shake but it’s the shaking that means it’s worth it. Was it stolen or did we give it away in the darkest moments of our weakest days? This belief and hope that it’s ok to believe and it’s crucial to hope. All these lost things, these missing and missed things, where are they now? Perhaps they are never lost and always hiding inside ourselves. Perhaps we have half the answer and we are only waiting to find the other half, living secret and silent and shaking the voice of the one whose voice you have waited your entire life to hear.
Whispers & Dancing & Beauty;
Have you ever had those moments when the Holy Spirit whispers a simple, yet precious truth to your soul? If you have had even had the smallest glimpse into the eternal gaze of the Beloved, then you know exactly what I speak of. It’s in those lovely moments that our hearts are soothed, comforted, at peace; it’s in the screaming yet still whispers that God nurtures our anxious souls, and we are forever changed.
Often, it’s a simple revelation, one with very few words, and filled with truth so satisfying and overwhelming that our hearts seem as though they could burst. From His Spirit flow eternal springs, words of life; and He beckons us to come and drink.
I struggle with beauty. To say the least, I never feel truly beautiful. And to be completely transparent, I’m incredibly insecure about who I was created to be. Both outward and inward beauty seem to be the bane of my existence; I often find myself “striving after the wind”, as Solomon would say. My feminine heart cries out in longing to be thought beautiful; this is both a tragic and lovely aspect of being a woman.
Yet, in the midst of insecurity, of immense discouragement, He was there. And we were dancing.
My safe haven, my place of comfort and refuge is so very vivid in my mind. My heart’s deepest longing are manifested as my quiet place with my God. As a little girl would giggle and dance through a meadow with a flowing skirt and flushed cheeks of pink, so it is when I spend time with my Beloved. With the sun on my face, and the breeze tossing my hair, we dance. He lets me stand on His toes and He holds me as He tells of His precious love for me.
Tonight all it took was a simply whisper, with but only a few words;
“You are beautiful, my beloved.”
Peace, comfort, and His overwhelming presence washed over me, filling every dark crevice that exists within my soul. And I believed Him.
Do you hear Him calling out to you? Do you feel Him draw close to your anxious heart? Do you see Him running after you, all in pursuit of your soul, with a fire of passion and love set aflame within His gaze?
You are beautiful. You are precious. You are loved. He whispers His sweet love over you, and is calling you forth to dance with Him, the very Lover of your soul. Will you take His hand, beloved? He is waiting.
~ Alyssa Marie
(This is my first post in a long while, and I’ve missed you all dearly! While I’ve been limiting the extent of my Tumblr use, please feel free to correspond with me on here; I’d love to catch up with everyone! Also, while I may not be on here as often, follow me on Twitter for daily updates. I love you all!)
Shadows;
Stillness, silence, solace;
The air weighs heavy and stale,
Longing and searching for nothing -
Mere comfort, comfort…
In the eye of the storm, calm and still;
The budding of precious morning,
Raging seas are violent within -
Oh, crippling, crippling…
Yet this darkness is far from eternal;
Darling, the fog is always its darkest,
Shadows are always their longest -
In the morning, the break of morning…
Sorrow persists on through night;
It won’t last, it won’t withstand,
Light breaks and sun bursts forth -
Hope is rising, Love is coming…
Rescue is near, rescue is here…
His Eye is On the Sparrow
Don’t lose your heart,
To doubt and fear,
Take in His Word,
And rest in His grace,
Jesus is my portion,
He sets me free.
(via thesweetermelody)
Intimacy;
I’m a writer, a musician, a creator, an artist of sorts. Thus, I suppose it’s safe to deem myself one who is likely overly emotional, sensitive, and (inevitably) neurotic at times. I’m also an INFP; I base my actions and perceptions of situations neither on logic nor reason, but often on feelings alone. As a result, I tend to overreact and certainly become overdramatic and simply insecure, even when it makes little sense to be this way.
Though my slightly unstable mental state can sometimes seem to be quite the detriment, it also serves as a source of color in my life. God wired me this way, and I am blessed, indeed. I love with my whole heart; I passionately, irrevocably, ardently, zealously love with all that I am. This kind of love comes naturally to me. And it’s often messy and emotional, but the reward for doing so is precious. It frequently happens that out of this zealous and illogical state that my greatest breakthroughs and inspirations occur. Again, this is how God formed me; He made me to love, and to love deeply and fiercely.
It seems that from the very first time I understood brokenness and people’s need and capacity for love that God lit a raging fire within my soul to pour out on behalf of the lost. As I said, this does not come without the messiness. It’s often painful and frightening, as I make myself vulnerable and open to pour myself out on behalf of others, all the while opening myself to receive the precious and beautiful blessings that come from allowing brokenness to overcome and ultimately be transformed into beauty.
This particular season of my walk and faith has been an interesting one thus far. It’s all new to me. Just as the winter snow starts to melt at the budding of spring and the white blanket begins to thaw as a new season bursts forth, so my brokenness is fading away; beauty is being exposed from underneath the layers of my stale and hardened heart.
God’s heart is passionate and furious and unstoppable in pursuit of our souls. His love is unrelenting when it comes to captivating the heart of His beloved. While I’ve longed to fiercely love God with every fiber of my being and beating heart, God is revealing to me a profound and yet simple truth that is beautifully painted all through Scripture.
God’s love is overwhelming and unconditional; we love because He first loved us.
The longing that I have to love wholly and irrevocably in the way God created me to do so could never compare to the desire God has to pour out His love upon those He calls “Mine”. My desire to fall in love with God pales in comparison to God’s desire to fall in love with us. His love is furious, eternal, unconditional, and unending. He longs for intimacy and depth with His beloved children. He is relentless in His pursuit to capture our hearts.
I urge you, Beloved - seek the Lord that you might know the depth of His longing and love. Come forth to the springs and drink that you might receive eternal life, love with the author of intimacy Himself.
For His name and renown,
Alyssa Marie
Purpose and passion
So good, so convicting, so true! Be blessed, my loves! :)
There is so much brokenness and need in the world. The more I find out about it, I can’t help but want to do something about everything.
But we can’t.
It’s good to care. God’s heart is full of compassion for all that is broken in this world. He sent Jesus Christ to redeem it and to proclaim freedom, healing, restoration, hope… life. We have been commissioned to share this good news, while demonstrating it through how we live our lives.
I believe God calls each of us to specific assignments and purposes for His kingdom. He has created you the way you are for a purpose. Isn’t that awesome?
You may be thinking, “Well, I still am not sure I know what God is calling me to.” You might be in a limbo, just waiting for the light inside your head to click on. Or, maybe you think you know, but aren’t sure.
Passion is powerful. Ever experience a time where you felt as if you could feel God’s heartbeat? God grabs a hold of our hearts with His compassion and opens up our hearts to feel the way He does. My pastor has always said, “What makes you cry? What makes you angry?” It goes on: What fills your heart with joy? What makes you rise up and speak up? What pains your heart? What generates the deepest compassion in your soul?
Something came to mind, right?
Something in your heart that you can’t shake; you care so much about it and can’t help but feel the need to take action.
Have you considered God planted that something inside you so you would be moved to do something about it?
We must give our lives to what God puts a burning passion in our hearts for. God put that passion within you for a purpose.
We are called, and there is so much we could do for the kingdom. Yet, how many respond and are willing to commit to spend their lives for that cause?
Jesus said in Luke 10:2 that “the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest therefore to send out workers into His harvest field.”
Let’s pray. Let’s ask God (just as Jesus instructed His disciples!) to send us out to serve Him wherever He leads, no matter what the cost, because we want to build His kingdom. We are not doing anything for Him, but rather with Him. Pray for God to raise up a generation of sons and daughters to be selfless servants for His purposes– the good news of Jesus Christ.
We are the body of Christ, made up by many parts and joined together one in the Spirit. We need each other. We are diverse and we may not have the same callings. But we can honor and support one another. We can humbly learn how to serve one another and join together for the purposes of God. We can be united in the passions and different gifts that God has given us with the desire to see Him be glorified and the world redeemed through Christ working in and through us. (Read 1 Corinthians 12:12-26 and Romans 12:3-8)
God has created you for purpose, He has made you the way you are for His glory! He has placed passion in your heart for a cause straight from His own heart. He has given you His Holy Spirit to enable you; “for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose” (Philippians 2:13).
I would really love to hear what passion and purpose God has put within your heart. What do you feel He has called you to? Tell me why it stirs your heart. And then I want you to tell me something –even if it is simple or small- that you are going to do this week about it.
Send me a message. Or write about it. Share with someone in your life who can support and encourage you! (Whatever you like). I want to challenge you to take action in some way. Let that passion own some purpose. Don’t sit back and wait when there is something inside your heart that calls you to take action!
I don’t want to just write things that people will read and say, “Oh yeah! Totally agree!” Because while that may influence, how much does that matter unless it produces fruit?
There is a harvest waiting.
With love in Christ,
Breanna
