Sometimes I write and people tell me I’m brave.
Because I write hard things. Because I dive past the small talk and tell you where it hurts. Because I don’t want to pretend.
Because I tell you it’s ok if you hurt too, I know the balm for the scars we carry, the antidote to utter despair, the flicker of light when your feet stumble and bruise in the dark night. Because I tell you He is big enough to be met with your doubts and your worries.
I want to invite you to meet Him, know Him more, see Him in the light I do, I want to share my Jesus with you.
And I want words to soothe the ache. I want to point you back to Grace, scavenging hope and beauty to line your pockets on the journey.
I’ve gotten good at digging for treasure. My hands are never clean because to find beauty you’ve often got to break hard soil, clawing it back to the place where things grow. Where hope is planted. It is always dark and broken and so deep down you cannot imagine anything would survive.
Just visited your blog for the first time yesterday. Lovely writing that I imagine has encouraged many, and now one more. Praying right now for your physical strength this day.
Thank you for sharing your story and your heart with such beautiful words. A window to a beautiful soul. Peace and strength to you.
Aaliyah thank you so much for your words, thank you for your presence, and as always, thank you for your vulnerability. Thank you for loving your people well and leaning into Jesus even when it’s tough. You’re an example to me.
Ok now I feel dumb because Siri misspelled your name and I missed it. Ha. ALIA!!
Alia – Just discovered your blog and so glad I did. I love finding places where people are telling the truth – because life’s too important for small talk. Thanks for letting your light shine and showing us where it hurts. I am praying for an ease in your burden today.
You know what I love? Your bravery about being tired gives the rest of us strength and hope – because when you give yourself permission to lean into the tired, it gives the rest of us permission to stop putting on the front, to stop running the rat race. Your words are beautiful. Here’s to tethering to grace in the midst of the tempest.
Alia- my hands are dirty, too. I am learning dirty hands lift me the highest.
Your words are so appreciated this morning. THANK YOU!