{Don't you just want to kiss him??}

There are four of them.

The inner chambers.

Beating, hopefully.

In rhythm, ideally.

First the lub, wait for it, the dub comes swiftly behind.

I am reminded that it beats without my command.

I am reminded that this bedraggled life depends on it.

And then my soul takes me there.

What if my pursuit was always spent on moving Your heart?

Knocking now, I want to enter.

I want to know Your heart.

I want to know Your ways.

I want to know Your person

and the fullness of Your grace.

I am sure that You will open.

Confidence comes with my covering; fresh with the blood of Jesus.

I stand now, for a while, knocking.

Urgency comes upon me, I am banging.

I am desperate for You.

Desperate to be hidden in Your heart.

Would You envelope me?

Hide me in Your heart O God, for it is what I was fashioned for.

You say that You made me in Your image

A large piece of You, fashioned into the smallness of me.

And I wonder why I cannot find my belongingness here?

I smile from the soul, knowing that You knocked first.

It takes courage to put Yourself out there.

But I am thankful that You do not build walls around Your heart.

Surely I have opened the door and have eagerly let you in.

Can it be my turn now?

I want more.

More courage to walk the path that You have set before me.

More vision for Your purposes.

More presence, a holy communion.

Really, I just want to beat for You.

May my life be a rhythmic cadence, pounding, always knocking to go deeper.

{heart}
Kel


{Clouds crowning the parent's place. Smiling and thinking that He is trampling our town. The clouds really are the dust of His feet.}


{Brother love took me on a date to meet some cute little burros}

{My roomie and I cooking dinner for a girls night! Living in Tempe has been so fun -- more to come on that later}

To nurse.

{Sometimes, I think that I will miss Queen Creek}

Loud.

Your shrieks are hitting a higher C.

I hear you. So does everyone else who passes your door.

You are anxious, perhaps a bit confused.

You are likely in pain.

You are afraid and alone.

All alone.

It takes just one.

One person to stop and to care.

One pump of hand sanitizer as I walk into your room.

One gloved hand grasping yours.

One assurance that you are not alone. That I am here to walk this road with you.

You have made it. Weary and hurting, you are here now. Allow me to pick up your banner and stand on your behalf? To be your advocate?

To defend the weak.

What a privilege this is.

To be here. To see your smile make a comeback, your body close behind.

What a privilege this is.

To give many their first bath and some their last.

To loan these hands to laboring mothers and to lace these fingers into the hands of one who has received bad news; a poor prognosis.

To gently knock and come in when you are in your most vulnerable state.

I smile, I care, I nurse.

And while I do, my soul can't help but whisper "what about me?"

These feet are tired, these shoulders are heavy, this heart has been through the ringer and it's only 10 o'clock.

These hands have held life and ushered others to the door of the Father, knocked on their behalf.

What about me?

I am not in physical need, but what about my loneliness?

Fear?

Weariness?

What about the days when I feel like I need someone to carry the banner on my behalf?

The days when I remember that these hands were made to be held?

The days when I am too tired to stand in the gap, when I could use the assurance that I am not alone?

And He lets me know my barrenness so I can learn to lean.

He comes like a gentleman, but with authority.

He is here.

He is present.

And He has given everything for this frail soul.

He is here.

During the internal cries that turn into external leakage.

And He reminds me that I do not need to be strong to be successful.

Whole to be used.

Perfect to be loved.

He washes my dirty hands with this truth, and it reaches my soul.

Trickling in like a line of Normal Saline, reality is that He values the weak, is endeared to the broken, and woos the ones who are far from perfection.

In this beautiful exchange, He has appraised my life, my soul, as worth dying for.

Divine exchange, death to life.

Empowered now by who You are and how You love, I take You with me when I go.

Into their room, I smile because You are with me.

I pump a puddle of sanitizer into my hands and I pray...

Be with me as I enter.

Blood of Jesus, be on this doorway and cover the doorway of this soul.

Jesus, You are the LORD of life.

You really are Jehovah Rapha.

Heal us once again.

{heart}

Kel

{Dang Gina. The one that I love.}

{Phoenix One}

{Moving into my apartment yesterday... 6 ladies. In the heat. Dining room tables, recliners, beds, clothes... nbd ;) }

Once Again.

Alone.

Alone in a full room and a partially full row.

Alone in a room purposed for corporate worship.

Not alone in my Spirit.

Captivated by what my closed eyes could see.

Taken by the One.

Praying. Not for who I am or what I want, but for who He is and what He has given.

Praying for the promises that He has whispered to come. Quickly, please :)

Praying groans of the Spirit.

Groaning not for me.

Groans for You.

For who You are.

And You speak.

You tell me that Your greatest work came through Your greatest suffering.

And You call me to be like you.

And You see the tears that welled up from my deep.

They washed over the windows of my soul, to leave transparency behind.

Praying over the lives of my people, of Yours, I hear You again.

"Tear your clothes and put on sackcloth. Come to me with your tears, your empty stomach, yourself.

I want to restore what the years of the locusts have destroyed.

You are my chosen vessel.

There is power in your tears, authority in your prayers, holy in your hunger.

There is wholeness in your torn."

I know this is true, because I know the truth: Jesus.

My purpose is this: to be used for Your people. It is what this heart was made for.

If I have yet to taste what He has in store for His people, then I can be sure that I have yet to taste the suffering that will come with it.

May Your works of greatness manifest through much suffering.

For I am sure that joy and gladness come with the presence of the Lord, and in that I need not be afraid.

Would You wreck the souls in this city?

May they never. be. the. same.

Would You breathe life, rushing water, into this land?

Fill us once again.

{heart}
Kel

Photo recap:

{Stuart and Brit. Service and Strength with courage in the middle. So excited to see what He's doing with our lives. This hunger will not be misplaced.}

{Wednesday nights. J running across busy streets. Pacing in parking lots -- lost in communion with the holy One. Beautiful braids not only bind us at the ankle. Our lives have been weaved with the larger strand. With Himself. Nights on trunks, covered in goosebumps. Calling them what they are: Godbumps. I am thankful for you.}

{Karis and Kasey and weddings. And sharing awkward moments. And showing platysmas. And laughing more than what my side stitches can take.}

{Women that I love. And their love that gives me cavities... it is so stinkin sweet}

{The lovely Lisa and her water that runs deep -- stems from the fulfilling One. To memories and coffee and the stranger that offered us spoons of whipped cream out of his mocha.}

{Aunt Hollie Haboob and the giggles we shared when she got to see her first Haboob! Wishing that she'd bring her humor and compassion to this desert. What a welcomed gift that would be.}

{Cleaning squad. Sweat coming from our foreheads, elbows deep in loving others. I can't think of a greater way to spend a Tuesday morning.}