Gathered is a monthly collection of beauty found, secrets whispered, wisdom gathered, words kept, words written, food savored, tears fallen, prayers offered, gentle ways of being, and life as art.
Journal.
he is FOR ME.
—truth held fast. 01.03.22
why do we hurt most the ones we love?
—tears fallen. 01.12.22
i had more courage to create at 6 years old
than I do now.
what’s stopping me?
why do I hesitate?
why do I keep “researching first?”
why am I not leaping?
—fear. 01.20.22
Found + kept.
"I hope you heal from the things you don't talk about anymore. I hope you heal from the things people have stopped asking about because you appear to be okay. I hope you heal from the things and people that shattered your faith and confidence. I hope that pain gets replaced with the kind of happiness that makes you appreciate why things had to happen the way the did. And if you aren't there yet, I hope you get there soon." —Kirsten Corley
"There are people that will never support you because it's you. Then there are people that will always support you because it's you. Find your people. Hold them close."—Olivia Marie Plath
Sweet sleeper.
Wisdom gathered.
01
"Offering God our worship while living inside of a broken world is the ONLY thing that we can offer Him here on earth that we CANNOT offer Him when we get to heaven. We will not experience brokenness or suffering when we get to heaven—so why don't we use the unique opportunity to offer God our praise while we endure hardship, rather than whine and complain about it?"—hellodenai
02
"Prayer is part of my business strategy."—Valarie Johnson
"Friends cover you in truth, even when you don't want to hear it, but they do the work beforehand to draw close to you. I don't think we can go around and try to bodyslam people with "truth." We must be willing to hear the whole story and walk in shoes that make us uncomfortable." Hannah Brencher
04
"I have worked for a very long time, over 20 years now, to do what I get to do full-time, and I’m grateful to God for every bit of that labor and the harvest season I get to be in now. There have been years of quiet, fallow seasons, and years of fighting tooth and nail to wrangle the things in my heart and head, and years of famine and blight where it seemed all had died, and there have been years where the vocational goodness feels too good to be true. That’s a gift and it all belongs to him, not me. Sabbatical is my way of reminding myself that I belong to him and not to me."—Lore Ferguson
Made.
This quote from The Modern Proper, one of my favorite cooking websites, inspires me so much as I tend to the needs of my husband and son. I actually made this artwork in December and have been gazing at it over my stove all month long. I used digital graphics on a beautiful linen-textured paper and am really happy with how it turned out.
Shared.
Prayer whispered from tear-drenched lips.
Thank You for remembering our frailty.
It has been a month of full living, which means tears and prayers and joys and pain and love and growth all mingled into life. Through it all the Lord has been so gracious and kind to us, sustaining us and holding us close through a major trial. My beloved boy visited the ER with an injury that has required some traumatic aftercare. These last days of January have been commemorated by long, late nights of fevers and holding and crying out to Jesus. The agony of our son in pain has sent our own bodies over the edge, and we are all now fighting illness as we heal together.
There is comfort knowing that the Lord is with us and that He didn't intend for it to be this way. He didn't intend for us to be hurt and sick and in pain. This matters to Him. It's like He tenderly whispers, "I didn't want that for you." I love that His promises of restoration include God Himself wiping away our tears...
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away. Rev. 21:4
In the meantime, every tear is known by God in a way that is as meaningful as it is mysterious:
You number my wanderings;
Put my tears into Your bottle;
Are they not in Your book?
Ps. 56:8
As a mother, I am constantly aching and grasping to know more of God as I raise my son. His heart, His love, His depth, His being. Who He is...not only as Creator, Almighty, Everlasting, Holy. But father. Not just to me or to all believers, but as a Father to Jesus. A father who undoubtedly loved (and loves) His Son. A Father whose beloved Son endured unspeakable pain and death on behalf of humanity. Who is this being? Any parent knows that it's harder to watch someone you love in pain than to be in pain yourself. Who is God the Father, a person, a parent who lived through the torture, sacrifice and death of His Son? I want to know Him. I want to understand Him more. I long to see Him and grasp the depths of Him (impossible to fully do so, I know) as He is, and especially as a father who loves His child.
I think if anything now I am more humbled by how greatly He loves us. He loved Jesus. That is without question. Twice He declared it—at Christ's baptism (Luke 3:22) and again at His transfiguration (Luke 9:35). But He also loves us. So deeply. For if He who loved His Son could allow His Son to go through everything He did, how much also must He love us?
I think I also understand a little more the coming wrath. The wrath of a Father poured out upon those who reject the atoning sacrifice of His Son. I think of what I would do for mine. It's not for nothing we call it "mama bear," this fierce protective love of our babies.
These are the semi-delirious thoughts of a sleep-deprived mother.
Miracle.
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