Bring on the Color!

I realized today that 98.7834% of my posts on this blog are picture-less. I also realized that 98.23784% paint a very serious, always-thinking-logically Alyssa. Which, don't get me wrong. I LOVE the time that I spend meditating on the Word of God each day. I love the time I spend journaling and soaking in the goodness of His love and freedom without distraction.

However. I also have fun. I LOVE to have fun. Some of my favorite memories are random girl's nights and attempted Pinterest recipe fails. I love to sing loudly (and equally as awful) and plot master plans to mess with little sister's mind. I love having dance parties in the kitchen and making hilarious videos that no one else really thinks are funny. I love my friend time.

A lot.

I was thinking today about WHY I love this friend time so much. Why my heart is so full after time spent with each and every one of them.

And this is what I realized: Sometimes you have to see the world in black and white before you can value it in color. For so long, I craved friends in my life that would tell me Jesus truth and lay out their hearts. Friends who would speak truth to my life in a stark yes and no to help me understand why a promise is rainbow colored.

Sometimes, we just need to view our lives through the lens of a sweet, honest friend, and hear a voice repeat back blessings and verses we've heard dozens of times... but have forgotten to remember.

Friendship is one of the most beautiful things in my world. It's like the silhouette of the moon against the black night sky that promises a glimmer of light, beauty, and absence sometimes too.

I love time spent with my dear friends. I cherish it. I eat with them. Sing with them. Pray with them. Watch with them. See with them. Listen with them. Worship with them. Learn with them. Grow with them. Cry with them. Walk with them. Hurt with them. LIVE with them.

Vividly.

I'm so thankful for each role played in my life. Why? Because sometimes it's only when someone else picks up a crayon in a bright shade of yellow, orange, or pink with a perspective that I missed so that the image begins to come to life. to take shape. Color begins to develop in the dark. Hope is never, ever lost. Every once in a while, God uses a friend to bring us to the processing room, allowing us to capture His beautiful truths and promises to us once again.

There are frames in my room that hold pictures of my beautiful friends and I.

But living life with them? Such blessings cannot be framed.

For it's a process. of learning. of laughter. of joy. of forgiveness.

It's living art. and together, we find ways to leap outside the frame.

Thankful for the friends that bring color to my world.

Tell your friends you love them today!

~Alyssa/Lyssa/Lyss... whichever you prefer :)

Hear the Music.

I lead a busy life. I'm not in school, so granted my "busy" looks completely different than the average nineteen year old student. But it's "busy", nonetheless.

This last week I have forced myself to simply be SLOW. Getting a nasty stomach flu aided in that, but seriously: it's been great to just sit and rest. To just "be". To think. To pray. Really pray. For family. For friends. For the children. To meditate on God's promises to me. To humbly ask for help.

To be quiet. To listen.

See, sometimes, when I'm writing, I get stuck. My thoughts and creative juices reach a halt. So, I get up from my little nook... and I go attempt to fix it. I'll go outside, breathe deeply, and attempt to remove my mind completely from the words. I'll wash dishes. I'll turn on some of my favorite tunes real loud. I'll bake. I'll go to the mirror and see what I can do with my hair.

Most of the time, that works. But sometimes, I just have to wait. An hour, a day, a week. I have to wait to go back to the words. Why?

Because words can get stale. Words and music hold special, beautiful places in my heart. In many ways, music are my words. And words are my music. and if you lose the music, you just need to stop.

But always, there's a melody burning in my heart just waiting to be shared. The beauty in music and words has been engraved and woven through my soul... so the music will never be lost all together.

Yet still- sometimes you just need to step away. Stop trying to write.

Maybe you're trying to write a literal book, facebook status, or letter to a friend.

Or maybe you're trying to write a new beginning, a mended relationship, or freedom from anxiety.

For me, I'm either taking meticulous notes of my life and putting it into words... or life is coming at me real hard, and I'm internalizing it.

My life gets so jam-packed with voices that my processor gets slow. Scenes, ideas, relationships, even, can muffle the way we hear, the way we see, the way we listen. So sometimes, writing it out... working it out... is such a great way to hear better, to see better, to listen better. But every once in a while, more often that we care to admit, voicing it actually drowns out the beautiful, anointed music we need to be listening for.

Words can dull the way we live if we're always speaking just to speak. Writing just to write. Living in complete abandonment before God, completely open and submitted to His will, listening for His voice... that's how the music enters in. That's how it takes up a permanent residence in my soul. In my heart. When my daily cry became "more of You, and less of me, Jesus."

LIVING for the right things. That's where the music comes from. That's where the words come from.

But when we stop writing for a while, it doesn't mean we aren't writers. It just means we're listening to the music, realizing the captivating beauty in a whole new way.

Writing is a huge release for me. So is speaking. and I'm talking about REAL conversation. I used to say that I didn't know what I thought until I was able to write it out. Or talk it out. And usually? That's very much true. I am a verbal processor, through and through.

But the truth is, I've verbalized a lot of ugly things that weren't true in a measly effort to process. to understand. to be heard.

I'm learning a lesson more and more all the time. It's that silence? Sometimes it's the best things for our hearts. for our souls.

And what is ultimately good for our souls... is what's good for our lives. for our writing. It all works together.

There are treasure chests and uncovered beauty in every nook and cranny of our lives- tears of thankfulness rolling down an expectant momma's cheek, the paintbrush catching the ray of light as red pours over the canvas, the smell of glue and marshmallows when you walk into the house down the street- and a good writer takes note of this.

It's the little things, the sweet details, that create. Create the pianissimos, the breaks, the strings, the cymbals, the dynamic overture, the beat.

Do what it takes to hear the music.

Sit. Be. Listen.

... and then write.

Love to you,
Alyssa :)

Beautiful? Impossible.

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 139:14.

I see beauty all around me.

I see beauty in the painted sunset skies, and the sticky kisses of a baby boy. I recognize it in the joy-filled eyes of the cancer patient. I discover it in the authentic sharing of stories.

I see beauty all around me.

But sometimes, I can't see it in the mirror.

The picture inside my heart of how I view myself- it has been distorted and skewed. I have prayed against this countless times, yet being good/intelligent/funny/"pretty" enough has always felt far beyond my reach.

I could sit for hours and pour over the list of things that have slowly reinforced that belief in me even more. Stories where I believed that I was worth leaving more than I'm worth fighting for. That I'm not valuable enough to be truly loved.

... each and every time, the fragile remains of that picture in my heart shattered into another million pieces.

You are not enough.

Lie.

No one will love you.

Lie.

Speaking about beauty is inappropriate. Worthless.

Lie.

So slowly, in this season, and probably the next ones, too... God is restoring my heart.

The reality is, it remains a daily struggle for me.

What do I see in my reflection? I see a broken, messy, ugly devastation. And I can't help but question how there can be beauty in all this rubble. Me? Beautiful? Impossible.

But I have immense, deep-rooted hope.

Because faithfully and consistently, my amazing Jesus responds by lovingly and gently showing me that beauty. The beauty that He molded from ashes.

He is creating LIFE out of the brokenness. I get glimpses every single day of the way He's working and moving.

I see beauty in so much. The lenses at which I view life are twofold: the gratitude lens... and the beauty lens.

Yet somehow I quickly became accustomed to changing those lenses to critique, comparison, and UN-gratefulness.

I'm fighting against this. I know that a healthy view of the beauty that God created will come solely from staring long and hard into the heart of God. I will catch my true reflection only when I see myself in His eyes.

In His eyes, I rest in the knowledge that I am enough... because He lives in me. and HE is enough.

In His eyes, I see the truth that I am desired, anointed, and sought after.

In His eyes, I weep with joy that He recklessly loves the beautiful mess named Alyssa.

So is my prayer for you and I today... that all of OUR lenses would be thrown off. Tossed out.

And instead, we would come to view all of life with God's clarity of vision.

We are treasured.
We are loved.
We are His.
We are beautiful.

The mirror lies, but the Maker of the stars never will.

Psalm 45:11, "The King is enthralled by your beauty; honor Him, for He is your Lord."

Love,
Lyss

Love like that.

Hello, friends.

I hope this rainy Thursday finds you warm and filled with the Holy's Spirit's peace. Not unusually, I have some thoughts to share with you today :) But I would love to take a moment this afternoon to say thank you. Thank you for reading. I love hearing your thoughts and responses, and have grown in my love for Jesus through these measly attempts to write. Praying that God would bless you richly and abundantly as you seek after the heart of God.

I've been thinking so much lately about about being judgmental. Our sinful nature is so prone to point out other's wrongs and develop opinions about another's life.

We've gotten really good at tossing around labels and engaging in finger pointing.

We make organized little files in our heads full index cards where we place tiny snapshots of all the people in our lives and the world as a whole; and one by one, the souls are filed away. They are filed away, and suddenly the need to see people as humans created by God, the need to relate, the need to understand, to love, to encourage- is gone.

We know the principles of Scripture. We know the vast list of right and wrong. And most of the friends that I've discussed this with? We genuinely, collectively, passionately love Jesus. With our whole hearts.

Yet we go back to those files where everybody fits so perfectly inside a little box... and we forget how to LOVE.

How to really, really LOVE.

We dig our heels deep into the soil of what is familiar and easy, then we structure our hearts around it. We build trenches to keep people out, and create a fenced garden allowing no unfamiliar thing to enter. So we miss out on fertilizers and garden tenders.

We turn our noses up at those who differ. We like to be the only holders of truth and let others know that doing things a different way is unacceptable.

We like to say what we don't like.

We don't like that parenting technique.
We don't like to be uncomfortable.
We don't like a politician's foreign policy.
We don't like a professor's lecture style.
We don't like when someone disagrees with us.
We don't like being cut off on the freeway.
We don't like particular worship styles.
we don't like that tattoo, that piercing, that shoe choice.
We don't like that he drinks, that she bought a lottery ticket.
We don't like when something is done differently than we're used to.
We don't like being questioned.

We are steeped in self-righteousness and the memorable shade of our own surroundings. Our hands have a tight grip on the glue jar and we're pasting, pasting, pasting ourselves to those we see who are familiar. We form herds and swim about in schools of identical fish.

This is just ridiculous. It is. We're all guilty of it to some extent, but it's ridiculous. I am feeling humanity's ridiculousness today.

I feel the sad grief of my own skin and the eyes that I look through and how these eyes have denied the beauty in the bodies surrounding me. The eyes that have seen only the things I am comfortable with, and not the needs of my brothers and sisters. They eyes that seek to determine who people are, and who people are not.

SO, today, I'd like to speak the opposite. Practice the opposite.

I want you to know that you are loved. God has breathed life into you, and called you worthy of love. God made man and called His creation GOOD. That doesn't mean you won't encounter deep suffering, and fail a hundred and one ways before next Thursday. That doesn't mean your heart won't seek to lead you astray. Your heart and mine.

But we are all here; We are all perfectly molded and crafted by the God of the Universe.

I'm going to say the most redundant thing anyone has said lately, simply because I feel so led to say it.

Jesus loves you. He loves the world. That's why He came to die for our sins. Once and for all, He paid the price. Because He LOVES us.

He told us and showed us in the most miraculous way just how radical His love was. And is. And will always be.

"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.

When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.

We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love."


Let's love like that.


Thankful for you, friends. I love you.

~Lyss

The Idol of Busyness.

"How have you been recently?"

"Oh, not bad! I'm taking a few online classes, working two jobs, volunteering at church, and on the side I'm writing a novel. I stay up later than I ever have, and I practically live on green tea and strawberry sour punch straws. How about you?"

"Me? Just work, I guess."

"That must be nice... thinking: slacker."

Ever had that conversation? Or something similar? I have. And in an effort to be transparent and honest, I've found myself playing both roles over the years.

It's an interesting phenomenon, really. You can see it played out every Monday at school and every Sunday in church lobbies. People who haven't seen each other in a few days or weeks meet... and the talk quickly becomes a recounting of how terribly busy we are.

In the season I am in, I am being stripped and slowed. Continually stripped of pride in many areas, and given the opportunity to simply sit and learn.

The most recent area of stripping has been pride in the area of busyness.

I found myself being proud of the fact that I was busy.

And not very secretly proud either.

Sure, I complained about how I hadn't had a real day off in weeks, or how much work it all was... but somehow all of my complaining just started to sound more like bragging.

"Oh, I'm a NURSING major. It's so hard. I have no life!"

"I nanny for five boys. I'm always on the go!"

"Today I cooked three hot meals, dropped off and picked up children, helped with homework, wrote two papers, played checkers, then brought a Jamba Juice to my sick friend."

All of these things were very much true. But it simply turned into backhanded bragging. It was pride. It's like complaining that you didn't expect learning Spanish to be so difficult after you got such high scores in French, German, and 5th century Latin.

So God has slowly but surely stripped me of many of these things. and I'm STILL busy!

But this is what I've learned:

We've bought into the idol of busyness. We've accepted the story that is silently communicated to us- that value rests in what we can produce, that we are loved for accomplishments.

So we push ourselves harder and harder. We sleep less, work more, and accomplish a great deal.

Don't get me wrong: work is GOOD. School is GOOD. Living life is oh.so.GOOD.

But in the process, we begin to forget how to
sit,
and think,
and breathe,
and pray,
and read,
and listen,
and have a real conversation with a friend or family member,
and savor a liquid for its flavors and complexities, not its ability to chemically induce wakefulness.

There's a dirty little secret that the busyness is harboring: It promises a full and satisfying life, but in the end, it makes our lives emptier.

We live less, serve less, feel less, even love less.

If there is one thing I would love to communicate in this post, it's this: Value is NOT determined by what your produce. Your loveliness is not based on what you accomplish.

Balancing work with rest is so so worthwhile. God rested.

Perhaps we should give that a try sometime.

Praying that my eyes would be fixated on Christ alone, and my days would be consciously lived out for His glory.

"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." 1 Corinthians 10:31.

"Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is." Ephesians 5:15-17.

"Now, therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. You have sown much, and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes. “Thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. Go up to the hills and bring wood and build the house, that I may take pleasure in it and that I may be glorified, says the Lord. You looked for much, and behold, it came to little. And when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why? declares the Lord of hosts. Because of my house that lies in ruins, while each of you busies himself with his own house." Haggai 1:5-9

Serial Leaver.

We are leavers. Serial leavers.

We leave jobs and churches. We leave homes and neighborhoods. Sometimes, we even leave children and husbands.

Most of the time, we are blessed with the means to leave. With cars that start or bank accounts that allow a family vacation. We are fortunate to have running shoes to lace up to run out the front door when life gets a little overwhelming.

We leave friends behind. We leave homeless people on the side of the road. We leave someone alone even when we know they need human comfort.

We leave when things feel uncomfortable or when we see the promise of something better somewhere else. When it gets too deep or too painful, we skip out.

Most of all, I think we leave to protect our hearts. Not necessarily right, but it's true.

BUT.

Jesus did not leave us. Instead He came.

His body would be bruised and broken for us, but He came. His heart would be shredded by the heartache in the world and instead of preserving Himself, He preserved us. His human breath would be taken, but even so He arrived.

He arrived, and He did not leave.

Even when He ascended into the Heavens, He did not leave. He would always be with us, He promised. "But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:26-27. He cares for us, loves us.

He did not leave as we are prone to do.

Jesus arrived. He bled. He died. He remains steadfast and true. Because of His supreme love for each one of us.

God WITH us. He is here. He is still here. He will never leave us, nor forsake us.

SO, sometimes, when I'm tempted to run away. To leave. To abandon. To throw in the towel. To hide. To walk away... I am inspired to stay because of the beautiful arrival of Jesus to earth so long ago.

God is WITH me. And He is WITH you.

You are loved,
Lyss :)

Defensive.

I have been guilty of attempting to take up my own cause.

There are moments when I live for micromanaging my own reputation, forgetting to let God be completely in control of how others perceive who I am.

I'm learning, though =] I'm learning to let go of what other's think of me. To let lies and unnecessary negativity roll away from me.

Still, it's not easy. Especially when lies are spread and opinions have no real backing. I'd rather run around like a crazy woman letting everyone know that I'm not what he/she thinks of me... that my sum total is better, more laudable. But that is pointless. It expends energy I should be expending for Jesus and His kingdom. I wonder how much time I've wasted trying to manage my reputation when I should be serving my Creator and letting opinions stay as they are.

Convicting.

By the grace of God, I am learning the beauty of silence. There were several occasions where Jesus chose to remain completely silent. His connection and communication with His Father was so perfect and without flaw that He knew He lives for the Audience of One, not the audience of the crowd. Oh, how my heart longs to live like that!

This quote has been such an encouragement to my heart, as I daily ask for guidance in developing a posture of silence and trust:

"There is a place of stillness that allows God the opportunity to work in us and give us peace. It is a stillness that ceases our scheming self-vindication, and the search for a temporary means to an end through our own wisdom and judgement. Instead, it gives God complete control, in His unfailing and faithful love, of the cruel blow we have suffered. Oh how often we thwart God's intervention on our behalf by taking up our own cause or by striking a blow in our own defense. May God grant each of us a silent, humble power and submissive spirit." ~A.B. Simpson

My heart is safe in the arms of a God who loves me with an unconditional, perfect love.

You and I get to rest in that. Amazing.

You are loved,
Lyss

He is Everything.

Today was the most perfect day. It really truly was. It was filled with just about all of my favorite things~ laughter, music, friends, children, and peppermint ice cream :) I'm just so thankful!!

I had a completely different post in the works for today, but I am thrilled to say that God is just taking my words a completely different direction tonight! And I'm so okay with that =]

I have decided that some of the most sweet, deep moments in my life happen in THE most unexpected places.

I really love that about God.

It could be a sign on the side of the road, a TV show, a pair of shoes, or just tucking the children into bed and I see the Gospel.

Not the words on paper, but the living, breathing Gospel.

It's so easy to read a page, highlight a few words, and move on... without letting it permeate into your heart.

But to see it in the flesh? To see the Gospel in a day to day interaction? Completely different.

I came before Jesus a year and a half ago and asked Him to show me Himself in the little things, to make Himself real in what seemed to be the mundane and forgotten. My life was changed. I don't say that often, as that phrase carries so much weight. But it was! My life will never, ever be the same. I know it might sound silly, and perhaps a little over the top. I get that =] But I love seeing God in the children's conversations or my cousin's wedding dress.

I see because I asked to see. I love that Jesus honored that simple request from the place I cried out of such desperate longing and need for His grace. I could never even attempt to spin all the lessons I've learned into beautiful word-webs for you... simply because some of them aren't meant to be shared. They're just intimate exchanges between my Father and I. Some are just His beautiful way of reminding me He's here. That's He's moving. That He's working.

But today, I'll share one =]

I spent a good part of the day today with my dear friend Caitlin. One of the things I love most about being in her company is the LAUGHTER. I know that's such a cliche thing to say, but it's just true. It is not uncommon for me to burst out laughing in her presence. She's just funny. About a year and a half ago now, we sat down and exchanged "life stories." Life stories are exactly what they imply... the story of our lives. From sweet kindergarten crushes to facing battles and overcoming fears.

The bottom line is today I caught a glimpse of where I was not so long ago. I remember sitting, debating whether or not to really tell my friend the whole story. I'm talking the shameful, scary, hurtful parts. The parts of my heart that I didn't really want anyone to be a part of. I remember sitting and hearing the faintest whisper of the Spirit- "Just tell her."

So I did. Everything =] and I felt freed up. Thus began the loooonnnng, but sweet road of our friendship, healing, and immense growth.

Jesus is everything. None of the rest of this- my story, my amazing friend, my perfect day...none of it matters if I don't remember that. It doesn't matter that I spent the day just overwhelmed with thankfulness and excitement. It doesn't matter that I've faced some fears. Nothing matters if I don't rest in this. Trust this. Know this. He is everything. Jesus is everything.

I know I didn't say that particularly articulately, but I feel incredible peace tonight. Just like I felt that night when I shared my story. In it's totality.

I looked ridiculous that night. I was having a seriously mediocre hair day. I had decided to throw it in a ponytail but hadn't had a chance to look in the mirror (yikes), and was nervous and disheveled about the night ahead. I mean, really.

But those three words~ He is everything. They echoed loud and clear in my heart that night, just as they do now as I type.

The life I have lived is not about me. Sure, I share pieces of my story every once in a while. And I love to read journals from a year ago, then read my journal from yesterday... and see how drastically different they are.

The Lord allowed me to go through some scary, awful things that many people go through... and I was safe in the arms of God the whole time. I loved Him. Because of circumstances I didn't create or ask for, He chose to use me.

That humbles me greatly. I used to cry after I spoke to a friend about where I've been... and who I am now. Because I felt like I messed up.

Now I cry because I know that my Father loves me in spite of it... and it's too much.

It's underserved grace at work, and I get to clock in every day, waiting to see what the journey will hold today.

When I came home from Sacramento, I drove to see some of my favorite kids. I will never forget the smiles on their faces: priceless. Truly priceless. I hugged them and hugged them and told them how much I loved them and how grateful I was to be back in their lives. The oldest asked me what I did while I was in Sacramento. I said, "Well, what do you think I did?" He said, "Well, you probably hung out with some kids, sung to some people about Jesus, and wrote about Him for your friends to read."

Spot on, my friend. Spot on. Later that night I asked him to read to me out of my favorite children's Bible, and he started. He randomly picked a page, and I sat quietly and listened while he read.

It was about the tower of Babel, and he was laughing as he read. It seemed to be written in a different, funny kind of way. But then he got to the end. Everyone in the room just quieted, because it says this:

"You see. God knew, however high they reached, however hard they tried, people could never get back to heaven by themselves. People didn't need a staircase; they needed a Rescuer. Because the way to Heaven wasn't a staircase; it was a person. People could never reach up to Heaven, so Heaven would have to come down to them. And, one day, it would. "

I felt my breathing slow that night, and I let my eyes close for a second. Conviction in my heart: Are you busy building staircases, Alyssa? Or is Jesus everything to you? Because your answer matters.

Sweet boy looked me dead in the eye that night- "Lyssa, didn't they know?"
"Know what, love?"
"That if they kept going, He would just go higher?"

I shook my head no. But I smiled.

These thoughts crossed my mind again today as I sat across from Caitlin is my favorite Mexican place downtown. Because I will continue to walk up every "staircase" I am invited to walk up in order to share the story of God's faithfulness and redemption in my life. I will never consider it anything less than a privilege.

And when dusk turns to dark, I will bend my knees to the One who allowed me to build. Not a monument to myself, but a meager pile of stones that shout God's glory.

May He always be glorified through me. Through you.

And may He always, always be made higher.

Tonight, I am thankful for the little things. For reminders and impeccable peace.

Jesus,
Bless those who read here. Near or far, bless them with your peaceful presence and show them Your love in the little things. Thank you for depth and intimacy, even in the most unexpected moments. Give me a discerning mind for what You have called me to build, and allow me to feel the kind of joy that comes only from building something that shouts YOUR name, that points to YOUR heart. Keep me on my knees in prayer, and make me humble in Spirit as I seek You. Inspire me to search Your Word and soak in the truth. Let me be diligent in loving You. For your glory, God.


You are Loved,
Lyss

Who am I?

It's a new year. 2011 was one crazy, wild year. Academia, illness, moving, and lots and lots of learning.

I'm excited for 2012. A year of redemption and growth and new life.

I'm learning right now to simply "BE." I've spent nineteen years of my life on the go, with a solid plan. Where I was going, what I was going to do, who I would be doing it with. But God has slowly chosen to change every.single.one of those plans... for a purpose greater than I could ever imagine. I'm excited. Filled with hope and great anticipation.

If you know me at all, you know that I'm an emotional person. a passionate person. I love to love. It truly brings me great joy to tell people that I love them. To share in the journey of knowing Jesus, following Him, through patches of storm and through still waters, too.

In thinking about goals for this beautiful new year, I told a sweet friend of mine that perhaps my goal this year would be to, "keep my emotion in check. keep the passion in check. It's just overwhelming." She looked at me and said, "My question for you is WHY? Why would you ever want to downplay what God has done and is doing in your life?"

Lightbulb moment. Catering my life to the desires of man will always be disappointing. I have been given a passionate heart for Jesus and His people. What a blessing to be able to use those gifts for the glory of God!

A HUGE way I express my passion and love for people is through words. You've seen some of that on this blog! Whether it be through a birthday post, a scribbled note on a scrap piece of paper, or a letter written and sent in the mail... I write. I have for years.

It is not uncommon to hear the words, "You are beautiful" leave my lips as I am talking with a sister in Christ. It's also not uncommon to hear the words, "I am so so thankful for you" and "I love you." In fact, it's more of a rarity if you don't hear them. God has instilled in me a love for people. A love for speaking His truth over the people I'm allowed to come in contact with.

Sometimes, for the receiver, that's uncomfortable. It's overwhelming. It may seem odd or unnecessary. So I began to really examine WHY I write. WHY I speak. WHY I use my words in the way I do. Thus the break from the blog and just from writing in general.

And a few days ago, I stumbled upon THIS website: www.megborders.com. It was one of those things where I clicked a link, then another link, then another link... and finally ended up here =]

I was immediately drawn in, probably just by her creative layout. I love it! Anyway, I started to read her "behind the lens" section which is basically just her About Me... and then I watched her intro video about her (if you scroll down just a little bit on her site, you'll see it.)

I was instantly thankful that I happened upon this site. I have been thinking for the past several days about words and how I use them. I have taken other's opinions and thoughts before the Lord and honestly asked Him to reveal any traces of hidden motive or inappropriateness. I poured over the Scriptures, studying verses regarding encouragement and reading letters Paul wrote. I have sat down with some amazing women in my life and asked for even more thoughts and direction.

Because my desire is to be striving after a life of living in the likeness of Christ. Always.

Then I read Meg's About Me, and I watched her video... and I found myself echoing her words. It all started to click into place. She is a photographer, and captures life through a lens. I am a writer. A speaker. I attempt to capture life through my words, whether written or spoken.

This is what Meg says,
"There's a distinct expression that I treasure when a client sits with me to review their portraits; a look of curious disbelief as if seeing oneself for the first time. It's a countenance that seems to say, "That can't really be me..." often with tear-brimmed eyelids. It's incredible. I'll drudge through muck and mire to get shots like that. The heart of a little girl still dances inside of me; A girl on a white horse, in a white dress, dreaming about princes, and love. The child somewhere in me still believes in enchantment, and that if I find it maybe I can bottle it up like fire flies. I guess I believe there's still this sense of wonder in each of us—maybe just buried or bruised. I uncover and capture it, so you can have fire flies of your own. You're captivating, and I'll show you."


Those are her words, but I switched them around a little bit.

There is a distinct expression that I treasure when a friend/peer/mom sits with me to tell me a little piece of their story, gives me a little glimpse into the heart that God has given them; a look of curious disbelief that seems to say, "I can't believe my Father loves me that much", or "He really DOES make beautiful things out of dust. out of us. out of ME." It's a countenance that seems to say, "I did nothing, yet the God of the universe chose me before the foundation of the world to be His child. And He loves me with a special, precious, covenant love", often with tear-brimmed eyelids. It's incredible. I'll drudge through judgement and misunderstanding and disgust to speak the truth and hope of God over the people He has so graciously placed in my life. The heart of a little girl still dances inside me. A girl on a white horse, in a white dress, dreaming about princes and love. The child-like faith in me still believes in miracles, the impossible, and the amazing equipping of boldness and humility that God grants His kids. I still believe in fairy tales. I'm living in one. I am nothing, absolutely nothing, without God. He chose me to be His daughter. To be a part of the family of God. Forever. There is no love truer and deeper than that. I have the chance to bottle up just a little sliver of that hope, of that love... with my words. I really believe that everyone desires to be loved. Sometimes, that's just tattered or bruised by circumstances or experiences. I get to hear people's stories, see glimpses of their hearts... then write about my own story, the glimpses I get to see of God's heart. Then I get to send it out, write it out, speak it out... in an effort to bring all fame and glory to God... and the hope of redemption and grace, love and peace to every person I touch. The people I have the privilege to walk life with? They are captivating. Because Jesus lives in them. He breathed life into dry bones. I just get to tell them that I see that. I see Jesus in them. They are beautiful. Because God created them that way!

I serve a really, really beautiful God. One who walked the earth, blameless and without sin... but very much with full emotion and deep rooted passion for the One who sent Him.

I will continue to tell you that you are loved. That you are beautiful. That I am proud to call you friends and fellow followers of Jesus.

SO, who am I? What would be my "Behind the Script?"

I am Alyssa.
Jesus Lover.
Baby Snuggler.
Truth Seeker.
Love Speaker.

I am a writer.

Hope this gives you a little glimpse into the heart behind the words.

It's always right to be who God is calling you to be.

Happy 2012, beautiful people.

You are so loved.

~Lyss :)