the words today in my heart are jumbled. i'm fighting hard to stay in the place where jesus looks beautiful and everything else does not. that means the places HE is found are beautiful, accordingly. faces. rooms. sidewalks. couches. windows. this desk at work. the strains of praise squeezing out of these computer speakers. my husband's hands. piano keys. guitar strings. aisleways with a cross at the end. streets with potholes at the end. gentle words in chaotic relationships.

i need to see Your eyes when i feel i'm losing patience.

sitting at the piano and looking up at matt, arm strumming, fingers finding chords, head thrown back, throwing away all the trappings of earth, voice raised to the top of his lungs... this is You. You promised us You'd be here.