Mastered by Nothing [a beginner’s guide to self-control] [written by a beginner]

A couple weeks ago in my post about writing and its negative potency in my life, I talked very briefly on the idea of being mastered by everything but Jesus. Well, today, I’m digging into the idea and worthy goal of being mastered by nothing but Jesus.

So let’s roll up our sleeves and get going.

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“All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are helpful. “All things are lawful for me,” but I will not be dominated by anything. – 1 Corinthians 6:12

At the core of this post is I Corinthians 6:12, and at the heart of 1 Corinthians 6:12 is self-control. Originally, this verse was specifically about self-control in the area of sexual sin, which is important to remember, however, I think there is much to be gleaned here regarding self-control in all areas of life.

As Christians, we have great freedom because of the liberty Christ bought for us with His blood (literally, He paid for every angle of our freedom as Christians with His blood; the more I think about it the wilder and more wondrous I realize it is. So don’t breeze over the truth of the high cost of our freedom.).

Not only are we free from bondage to sin and spiritual death in this life and the next (a thrilling and freeing truth by itself), we are also free from the need of a temple to offer sacrifice in because Jesus was the last sacrifice. We are free from the need of a priest to mediate between us and God because Jesus is our high priest. We’re free from every rule and ritual of the Law because Jesus fulfilled the Law.

We are free to do anything, but not everything will help us be like Christ. We are free to do anything, but we are not to be slaves to anything but Christ. What I mean when I say that we’re free to do anything is that we are able to do anything because the grace of God doesn’t ever end and will never be used up, so we are “allowed” to do anything. However, doing absolutely anything is an abuse of grace. Paul says in Romans 6: “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?”

So, let me say it again: under grace, all things are lawful because the Law is fulfilled and ended in Christ, but just because we can do it doesn’t mean we should. Under grace, all things are lawful because Christ set us free from the rule of the Law, but we are not to be controlled by anything. I think that’s the gist of 1 Corinthians 6:12.

Yet we so easily abuse our incredibly expensive, blood-bought freedom.

I misuse my liberty in a lot of different ways. I do things that are “allowed” but aren’t all that helpful, things that don’t spur me to be like Christ. I have habits and mindsets that aren’t forbidden but they’ve grown to a place where they rule me instead of living under my control. We can be mastered by host of different things, but I’ll just give a few examples.

I am mastered by my body when my alarm goes off and I hit snooze five times because I want more sleep and don’t have enough control to just get up (it’s a simple yet telling practice of the state of my self-discipline).

I am controlled by my cell phone when every little ding and blip and whistle has me tugging my phone out of my pocket and scrolling through notifications instead of devoting myself fully to the task at hand.

I am enslaved to my cravings and emotions when I breeze into the kitchen because my story just got rejected and I need some comfort food instead of dealing with rejection in a healthy, godly way.

I am dominated by my body when my hormones are on a warpath, and my anger comes lashing off my tongue.

I am mastered by my emotions when depression creeps up and drags me down into the mud, and instead of doing the work to haul through it, I wallow in it.

I am controlled by my aspirations when writing fills my thoughts, whips my emotions, and dictates my time use (see the post from a couple weeks ago).

And there are so many other things that so often end up controlling us: anxiety, money, sex, body-image, hobbies, possessions, ambitions, etc.; the list goes on and on.

And here’s the deal: sleep is necessary; sleep is good. But my body and however sleepy or tired it is should not rule me. My cell phone is good, but my cell phone should not control my attention. Food is necessary; food is good. Food is to be enjoyed and savored! But my desire for food for any reason should not master me. I have been created with hormones and emotions, and they do need to be processed. But that’s the things: I need to process my feelings, but my feelings should never process me.

I am free to sleep in and have a cell phone and eat yummy food and experience a full range of emotions, but not all those things are always helping my new nature slay my old one. I am free to sleep in and have a cell phone and eat yummy food and experience a full range of emotions, but none of them should ever control me.

So that leaves us with the problem of self-control. Self-control (or self-disciple or self-restraint) is one of those annoying things that’s far easier said (or written or read) than it is lived. So how can we make our bodies and emotions our servants instead of our masters?

Well, we can’t. This is the part that gets my pride all fluffed up, offended, and territorial because what in the world do you mean I can’t control myself?

Self-control isn’t a matter of self; it’s a matter of Spirit. Either we are controlled by whatever our personal vices are, or we are controlled by the Holy Spirit. There is no in between or part where we actually hold the reigns; we only get to decide who/what we’re going to pass the reigns to.

Self-control is one of the nine fruits of the Spirit mentioned in Galatians 5, and it’s one of eight attributes listed in 2 Peter 1. Both lists are like the process of sanctification in a nutshell. True believers will grow in these ways, but true growth is not a matter of willpower or work. Self-control is something to strive for, but we don’t get it overnight. It’s a process. And just like every other part of sanctification, it takes humility and time and intentionality and Spirit-reliance and daily, hourly, minutely gracious refillings of the Holy Spirit.

Recognizing that we can’t do it ourselves, that we’re still so weak, is the first step, and the next is faithful pursuit of knowing Christ and being like Christ. And then it’s a cycle of choosing to take those steps again and again and again.

In the everyday life, it looks like praying, “God, I can’t do this, but I want to because I want to be like You. I will run as hard and fast as I can to You, and I will trust that Your Holy Spirit will supply everything I lack to carve me into a better likeness of Your Son.” It looks like then asking in faith and expectation for opportunities to exercise self-control, to be shown where you need self-control, and prepare to be given lots of chances to practice self-control.

So, it is in being mastered by Jesus that we become mastered by nothing else.

Let’s drop a swanky bookend on this post.

As the title of states, this is only a beginner’s guide, and since it’s been written by a beginner, take it with a grain of salt and realize that this is barely even an introduction to self-control. For further reading on grace, sin, and self-control, I recommend Romans, 1 Corinthians, Proverbs, Ephesians, and this sermon from John Piper. (I’m recommending the whole books instead of specific verses because the fullness of the text is captured within its context, and the sermon from John Piper helped me write this post. Also, there’s a lot more to be found in Scripture about self-control; these are just the books I’ve been reading and ruminating over recently which spurred the writing of this post.)

Let’s chat it up. Anything to add? Do you struggle with self-control, or is there a different fruit of the Spirit/quality that you’re working on? What do you do to grow into the likeness of Christ?

With love,

Rosalie

P.S. – so, about the clickbait feature image of the Lego Loki in the tiny birdcage… well, I was racking my little brain about what I could photograph to capture the idea of self-control. I decided on the birdcage, and I was going to run with it and contrive some sort of decent explanation (like, we have to “cage our old nature” type thing; so brilliant, I know). But then I saw my little Lego Loki (curtesy of my Aunt Lis!), and then I was like: “Forget trying to make this picture relevant to the post or anything in life really. Some silliness is in order.”

And that’s how Lego Loki ended up in the tiny birdcage on Penprints.

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When Something I Love Became Something It Shouldn’t

*insert witty post preface that makes you want to read this post*

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This past June and July were intense writing months for me. I reread Draft Three of Beasts, found a dysfunctional story, and decided that I could and would fix it. Because that’s what I do. I fix things. And if I can’t fix something, it drives me just a little bit crazy. And so help me, I was going to fix this story if it killed me.

A lot of June went into brainstorming how this fixing was going to happen and figuring out just how much of the 90,000 word Draft Three was going to be axed. As it turns out, 85k met the sword in my pursuit of a better fourth draft. I was on a deadline, one I couldn’t move again, so I dove into rewriting (fourth time’s a charm, right?).

I enjoyed very few (translation: zero) of the hours upon hours upon hours poured into the actual rewrites. Between hating the story itself and being drained spiritually, emotionally, and mentally by the other things going on in my personal life, the last thing I wanted to do was try and put what little I had left into fixing that stupid, broken story. As I wrote, I came to dislike it even more because the story was too warped to fix in one draft, but I had to do what I could because I’d postponed the Deadline too much already (the Deadline was an editorial review with an amazing freelance editor).

So I wrote, and I hated it. Doing the writing. The words themselves. Coughing up thousands and thousands of brand new words. Feeling guilty on days I only wrote 1,000 words. Sick with stress that made my family question if it was worth it, if I should write when it so obviously drove me to further physical exhaustion, anxiety, and emotional distress. I was wound so tight that I was popping a couple times a week in one way or another.

But I’m a writer, and writers write.

So that’s what I did. I wrote. I lived and breathed that story for five whole weeks. My sun rose and fell on how much progress I’d made, how many words I’d put on the page, how many days spun between me and the Deadline, and if I thought I could make it. Because so help me, I was going to make it. My thoughts ran in a constant, dogged cycle of plot and characters and questions and cringing over how people would react. Oh, yes, I was always anxious about what people would think when they read it, a bit of black terror crunching my heart whenever I guessed what they’d say. Too dark. Too confusing. Too simple. Too choppy. Too weird. Underdeveloped. Not enough description. Trying too hard. Too many plot holes. Childish. And let’s not even get into that rushed excuse for an ending.

I finished it, though, and it came to just over 60,000 words with just one day to spare. So off it went to an editor, and I was finally freeeeeeeeeee.

Except I wasn’t.

The anxiety and fear hounded me, and the remnants of the story hung in my mind, saturating my thoughts still because the whole time I was writing, something was missing, something big. And the absence of this thing was what put me into such a frenetic state, and I knew it. I knew what was wrong, why I was so agitated and turbulent; it wasn’t just about stress or dedication or perseverance or getting too little sleep.

It came into sharp focus when I received my edits. My editor had so many good thoughts and critiques, but one thing she said, an offhand kind of comment, struck me: “I can’t wait to see what God will do with it once it’s even more polished.”

Ah, right. God. Him. You know, the One I’ve said up and down that my writing is for blah, blah, blah. Yeah, Him.

I knew I was writing without Him, knew I was driving a wedge between us by how everything else was mastering me. I did my devotions faithfully, and I sought Him… but not as hard as I sought to fix that story. It’s sadly ironic—I didn’t like even one aspect of writing and story at the time, yet it was the writing and story that dominated my thoughts, took hold of my emotions, and consumed my energy instead of devotion to my Christ.

What I loved became something it was never intended—by me or my Jesus—to be. Ever.

It was a twisted form of worship, not to God, but to myself and what I could accomplish, had to accomplish, devoid of my greatest Vision. And after writing with and for God as much as I have tried to, I was keenly aware of how hard it was to wrestle against Him and try and make Him bless my work while I carried and would not give up a double-heart. A heart that wanted Him but not enough to make me seek Him with everything like I used to. A heart that wanted His blessings and hand in my writing but not enough to live like it. A heart that took the story He gave me and made it into something less, much less.

And I’ve spent the last month lying to myself, telling myself that it was so hard because I procrastinated (though, that did happen), it was so hard because the story was too much to fix in one shot (though, it was to an extent), it was so hard because of all the other things going sideways in life, it was so hard because blah blah blah.

Well, no, it was so hard because I did it alone, because I did it hoping to create something incredible by myself. I was all at once terrified of what people would say and yearning for their praise and approval, wanting them to tell me I had made something great and powerful. And most laughably of all, I wanted people to say that they were moved spiritually, that they understood grace a little better, that God spoke through it yet I wasn’t involving God in the writing. (And don’t mistake me: God can involve Himself in whatever He sees fit to with or without anyone knowing or recognizing it. My point here is that my heart was impure.)

What then? Now that I’m being honest—with myself and God and everyone else too—how do I untangle this? How do I put writing back where it is meant to be and bow my heart again to God?

Well, thank goodness I’m not doing it by myself. It’s been a lot of thinking and praying and wrestling with the Holy Spirit and opening hands and remembering and relearning truth I’ve somehow forgotten and coming back to full, true worship and communion with Him for the first time in weeks.

Why am I posting this on the blog? Because I’ve read that being honest and real (and ten other buzzwords like “authentic”) is important, and also because it hurts my pride more than just little to admit (on the freaking internet) that I struggled hard with things that this post and this post would have everyone believe I’m so far over.

There is always the danger that the things we love will become something they shouldn’t, will take on a role they aren’t meant to, and my prayer is that the Holy Spirit will help mightily, just like He helps me and is patient with me.

With love,

Rosalie <3

My Worship Playlist

Happy Monday!

A little while ago, I talked a little about why I make music part of my personal devotions time, and some of you asked for some recommendations for songs to use for intentional, personal worship. Well, today I’m finally sharing the list of songs that currently comprises my personal worship playlist.

I’m including some of the lyrics to each song, and if you click on the song, it will take you to the best YouTube version (theoretically, a lyric video) I could find!

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What a Beautiful Name.

“What a beautiful name it is,

Nothing compares to this,

What a beautiful name it is,

The name of Jesus.”

For the Cross.

“Then on that day, what seemed as the darkest hour,

A violent hope broke through and shook the ground,

And as You rose, oh the Light of all the world was magnified,

As You rose in victory.”

O Praise the Name.

“Then on third, at break of dawn,

The Son of heaven rose again,

O trampled death, where is your sting?

The angels roar for Christ the King.”

God, You Are My God.

“No praise can define You,

No thought can contain You, God,

No other one is holy,

No other one is robed in righteousness.”

Be Enthroned.

“And unto You, the slain and risen King,

We lift our voice with heaven singing,

Worthy are You Lord.”

Resurrecting.

“By Your Spirit I will rise from the ashes of defeat,

The resurrected King is resurrecting me,

In Your name I come alive to declare Your victory,

The resurrected King is resurrecting me.”

Captain.

“Jesus, my Captain,

My soul’s trusted Lord,

All my allegiance is rightfully Yours.”

Boldly I Approach.

“Behold the bright and risen Son,

More beauty than this world has known,

I’m face to face with Love Himself,

His perfect spotless righteousness,

A thousand years, a thousand tongues, are not enough to sing His praise.”

Simplicity.

“I come in simplicity, longing for purity,

To worship You in spirit and truth,

Only You.”

In the Garden.

“And He walks with me,

And He talks with me,

And He tells me I am His own,

And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.”

My Worth Is Not In What I Own.

“I rejoice in my Redeemer, 

Greatest Treasure, Wellspring of my soul,

I will trust in Him, no other,

My soul is satisfied in Him alone.”

Fall Afresh.

“Spirit of the living God, come fall afresh on me,

Come wake me from my sleep.”

Be Thou My Vision.

“Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise;

Thou my inheritance now and always.”

Crowns.

“I will not boast in riches,

I have no pride in gold,

But I will boast in Jesus,

And in His name alone.”

All I Have Is Christ.

“Oh Father, use my ransomed life,

In any way You choose,

And let my song forever be,

My only boast is You.”

Come Thou Fount.

“Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be,

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee.

O Come to the Altar.

“Oh what a Savior, isn’t He wonderful?

Sing alleluia, Christ is risen,

Bow down before Him, for He is Lord of all,

Sing alleluia, Christ is risen.”

Sweet Hour of Prayer.

“In seasons of distress and grief,

My soul has often found relief,

And oft escaped the tempter’s snare,

By thy return, sweet hour of prayer.”

Even If.

“You’ve been faithful, You’ve been good all my days,

Jesus, I will cling to You come what may,

‘Cause I know You’re able,

And I know You can.”

Do It Again.

“You made a way when there was no way,

And I believe I’ll see You do it again.”

It Is Well.

“Whatever my lot,

Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well,

It is well with my soul.”

Call Upon the Lord.

“Jesus’ name will break every stronghold,

Freedom is ours when we call His name.

Jesus’ name above every other,

All hail the power of Jesus’ name.”

You Love Me Anyway.

“See now, I was the man who yelled out from the crowd,

For Your blood to be spilt on this earth-shaken ground,

Yes, then I turned away with a smile on my face,

With this sin in my heart, tried to bury your grace,

And then alone in the night, I still called out for You,

So ashamed of my life, my life, my life,

But You love my anyway.”

Grace Unmeasured.

“Grace unending all my days,

You’ll give me strength to run this race,

And when my years on earth are through,

The praise will all belong to You.”

What Grace Is Mine.

“What grace is mine that He who dwells in endless light,

Called through the night to find my distant soul.

And from His scars poured mercy that would plead for me,

That I might live, and in His name be known.”

To Live Is Christ.

“My great desire is to be with You,

But this is the place You chose for me,

This is the place You chose for me,

To lift my cross and give everything,

This is the time You gave to me,

This is the time You gave to me,

For me to live is Christ.”


Have you heard of any of these songs? Do YOU have a personal worship playlist? Do you think you’ll start one? What do you think about including music in devotions?

With love,

Rosalie

P.S. – the winner of the paperback copy of The Girl Who Could See is Kat Vinson of Sparks of Ember! Keep an eye on your inbox for an email from me, Kat! :D

P.P.S. – also, if all goes according to plan, next week is the (legendary) tour of my bullet journal. You’ll want to hold onto your hats, kids. ;)

Some Truth About Trials

Life isn’t all flowers and sunshine and laughter; there are tornadoes and riptides and tears. That’s just the way it is because we live in a fallen world, and that’s the way it will be until Jesus comes back and sets everything right. Until then, though, we all come to face trials and hard times and seasons of life that knock us down and kick us around in the mud.

Today I want to talk a little about those times.

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Some things need to be clear from the outset:

1. Trials will come; there is no getting around them. They are inevitable.

2. Trials come in all shapes and sizes–a lost friendship, death of a loved one, financial crisis, divorce, destroyed dreams, etc.. And then sometimes everything goes to pot at once and something’s falling apart on every side.

3. Trials are not necessarily punishment for sin. True, some trials are the natural consequences of sin, but some trials just come.

4. Trials are from God, and in light of His sovereignty, each heartbreak has a purpose.

The purpose of trials.

Simply and ineloquently put, trials suck. To be in the midst of a trial is to be in the midst of a storm; to be in pain physically, emotionally, or spiritually or all three at once; to suffer. It’s so easy to ask how it’s possibly good, to want to know what purpose it serves, to wonder why God would put you, your friends, your family through this.

The answer is (basically) this: trials test our faith and devotion and draw us into deeper intimacy and reliance on God. (Perhaps that’s an oversimplification, but it’s what I’ve got, kids).

Through trials, we are brought to the very end of our strength, and the end of our strength is where we usually begin to seek God for His.

Through trials, our love for God is tested–will we turn on God because of the pain, or will we fall into God because of the pain?

Through trials, we usually begin to seek answers to difficult questions about God and suffering, and in doing so, we can learn more of who God is.

Through trials, we are sanctified, made more like Christ.

Here’s the thing: the attitude we carry through the trial decides how we will make it out of the trial.

If we only ever view suffering as something we have to endure, something we have to survive, that’s all we’ll ever do. We’ll endure it, we might survive it, and we’ll definitely be scarred by it, but we won’t ever be more because of it. If anything, we’ll be made less by it. All the hurt will still be there, and after a little while, it will become bitterness and weariness because we made it through the fire by the skin of our teeth and nothing more.

But if we view our suffering with the mindset and belief that God is completely (and by completely, I mean completely) sovereign, and that everything (and by everything, I mean everything) He does has purpose, and that He is more (and by more, I mean far more) than enough for us, we will flourish.

When we are seeking God, when we are desperate for Him, when we cry out to Him, when we are broken and worn, when we trust Him and love Him and want Him, He is gracious to lavish His Spirit upon us. And when we are filled with the Holy Spirit, we are filled with peace, which isn’t the absence of strife and pain but calm in the midst of it. When we are filled with the Holy Spirit, we are filled with joy, which isn’t only an emotion to be tossed about in our stormy hearts but also a choice we have to make.

God uses trials to 1) foster deep intimacy with us and 2) grow us.

And, yes, it’s hard to be excited about these things when we’re in the trial. It’s hard to be sobbing until your throat hurts and still think, “Oh, I can’t wait to see how God is growing me through this.” I get that because I’ve been there, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Sometimes we can get a glimpse of what God’s doing when we’re in the midst of suffering, but so often it takes time and hindsight and maybe even waiting until heaven to see where God worked.

The point is, God is working, and He’s working it all together for good. The thing is that our idea of good is often different from what’s actually good. We have to remember that God doesn’t think like we do, that He sees everything while all we see is the right now, and we can’t even see that with much clarity.

So please don’t go through your trial just trying to keep your head above water; trust God with that. Go through your trial with your eyes and heart open to the Holy Spirit and what He can accomplish in you.

With love,

Rosalie <3

P.S. – this post goes out to all my beloved ones who are in the tempest.

P.P.S. – continued reading can be done where I first found this truth: 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, Romans 5:2-4, James 1:2-4, James 1:12, 1 Peter 4:12-13, 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, and Isaiah 55:9.

Train Thoughts: Resting Up & Pouring Out

It’s Tuesday.

Penprints on a Tuesday? What heresy is this okay, it’s not actually heresy, but whateva? Well, hopefully you’ll understand by the end of this post why this is landing in your inbox on a Tuesday.

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I didn’t spend Easter at home. Instead, I hopped on a southbound train to visit some beloved people of mine: my brother, Luke, at college; my good friend, Allie (also at college); my grandparents; and my cousins.

I was excited for it in my head–I miss them all, Luke especially–but I was tired, not physically but emotionally and spiritually. It wasn’t one big thing that wore me down, just many smaller things falling on me, steadily eroding.

And I was filling up nearly every day in my quiet time with God, but it was never quite enough to carry me through, like I couldn’t get completely full, like it was never enough to compensate for how much emotional and spiritual energy I was spending. So I ran aground, came up dry, emptied, tired, and disheartened.

But then my train arrived.

Allie picked me up at the train station, looking like the perfect picture of all my summer memories of her and driving a car called “Karen”. She opened her home to me and let me stay with her while I was in town; I hadn’t seen her in months.

The first chunk of time was spent with Allie, catching up with her and learning about her life over crepes (I didn’t even know what crepes were until she showed me).

The Story of How I Learned About Crepes:

Allie: “Want to get bubble tea and crepes?”

Me internally: “What’s a crepe?”

Me externally: “Sure!”

Allie: “What kind of crepes do you like?”

Me: “Oh, you know, um….”

Allie: *laughing* “Do you know what a crepe is?”

Me: “Ugh, no.”

Allie: *laughing more* “Rosalie! Okay, they’re…..”

Conclusion: crepes are scrumptious.

We sang Rend Collective in the car. We ate watermelon cookies and laughed when my teeth turned red. We tried on bunches of sunglasses. We talked about God and what we’re learning and how we’re actually doing. We took Polaroids and sang while she strummed her guitar.

And it was good.

Then I was with Luke. I finally met all of his roommates and saw him lead his small group. I saw the place where he works (Luke At Work is such a cute Luke) and saw the airport where he learns. I laid on the floor of his room while he read me reviews of the laptop he found to replace my dead one. For almost an hour. Because he made it his personal mission to find me the best laptop. We rode his motorcycle and went hiking and stared at the sky and talked about church and love and life and hard things and blessings and happy things. He took me to a Casting Crowns concert, and we worshiped together to some of my favorite music.

There were so many other good things about this trip.

I spent a night with my grandparents and heard my Grandpa play his trumpet on Resurrection Sunday. I saw my cousins and we shared music and took a walk and laughed so much and cried a little too.

But it was good.

I went into this trip with nothing to give, but I came out of it full. It was rest, the rest that I so needed. It was a blessing to me, and the Holy Spirit did great work in me. He reminded me of my own weakness, my hopeless dependence on Him, my inability to do any good on my own, and He taught me the value of a pause.

Sooner or later, we all run out.

We all end up like a charred, crumbling match, essentially useless because we’ve burned up, we’ve spent ourselves.

And that’s why we need to take time away. We need to step back for a few days and relearn how to be still in God, we need to be away from those who drain and surround ourselves with those who fill.

Guys, using yourself up is not noble.

Never retreating is not godly or any shade of right–it’s arrogant and detrimental to your ministry. And you don’t necessarily need to go on a weekend trip to regroup every time you’re tired, but you do need to be intentional about taking rests and serious about seeking the filling of the Holy Spirit.

But we are not filled for our good alone.

We are filled to pour into others. And when we run low, we seek rest. And when we rest, we seek filling again. And when we’re full, we empty ourselves in others. And then we rest, and the cycle goes around and around.

Resting. Filling. Emptying.


These have just been all the jumbled thoughts that have been running through my head while I rode trains home today.

Tell me what you’re thinking.

With love,

Rosalie <3

P.S. – go listen to Train Station by The Gray Havens because the imagery takes my breath away and makes my soul happy.