Frolicking & Frivolities
madeleineishere:

my cubicle neighbor Aaron , entertaining Hannah and I

madeleineishere:

my cubicle neighbor Aaron , entertaining Hannah and I

suarezalex:

okay seriously if you’re in a relationship or even a friendship and you find yourself spending more time crying out of sadness or arguing with them, leave them. i don’t care if they’re a modern day aphrodite/adonis or a gift bestowed upon you by the gods. toxic people are dangerous and i highly advise cutting them out of your life and finding someone who makes you laugh until you snort your drink out your nose instead.

mrsjohnson2013:

Relinquishing our hopes and dreams to God is one of the most difficult things to do. When the dreams seem to be so far in the future that they will never come, it can be devastating and cause you to doubt His goodness. When it’s a possibility, but you can’t get your hopes up yet, fear can quickly set in.
I don’t think He asks us to be perfect in giving our hopes and dreams to Him; I think He just asks that we daily, hourly, even minute by minute, take it to Him in prayer. I think He desires that we seek Him above a dream, that we want Him above all else. And when we can’t, He desires that we confess. Because HE is the one who holds us in His hands, not us and our performance.

nbcparksandrec:

A little Monday motivaish for ya.

nbcparksandrec:

A little Monday motivaish for ya.

thewordofgodsays:

Happy Resurrection Day!

thewordofgodsays:

Happy Resurrection Day!

THIS IS THE GOSPEL. IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT “GOOD THINGS” YOU BRING TO THE TABLE. IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT “DISHONOR” YOU BRING TO THE TABLE. YOU JUST COME TO THE TABLE WITH JESUS AND GOD IS LIKE YO YOU’S MY KID NOW AND I LOVE YOU AND I’M PROUD OF YOU YOU’RE AWESOME AND FORGIVEN AND LOVED AND STUFF.

Reblog if it is 104% okay to come to your ask and just say ‘Hi can we be friends’ and then start asking you random questions.
Jesus doesn’t avoid those who mess up. Jesus runs to those who mess up.
Matt Chandler  (via littlethingsaboutgod)
Owning our story can be hard, but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it.
Brene Brown (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
The Scars of Our Strength

frolickingfrivolities:

Day after day, my fingers reach towards skin.

Each curve of the fingernail traces a map of flesh.

And though motive and heartbreak and emotion 

May differ from another

There is a consequence that we look up at and say “Me too”

The scars on your skin, dear one, are not ugly.

Every scar shows a pain that has taken time to heal…

The cut, pain fresh, is not us but a Lie.

The scab is Patience and Kindness locking him up.

The scar is when Lies have become a certain Truth.

Truth is: If we give each cut time to become a scab

and each scab time to become a scar

(not adding new ones, if we can, lest the process start again)

then we are stronger than the Lies

We are stronger than the pain.

Instead of sharp metal, pick up glass

Magnifying Glass

magnifying for us to see every Lie we’ve locked up and squashed dry

Watch the ones already there

every day

every cut becoming a scab

every scab becoming a scar

every scar a smooth tattoo of courage

to live another day.

Was looking on my (very scarce) poetry tag and found this gem. Rough, but oooooo so lovely at this time.

Same date as the Titanic. What is this? I’m angry, mad, and filled with grief. I don’t know what’s going on. Nothing to teach or explain into letters and numbers and ink. Just raw. Praying my heart to God in this, in bursts and sparks and flames and bitter tears. It’s a deadly hurricane, but He is the anchor I cling to.

Is it odd to call them my people? I wasn’t born there. I never lived there. Yet I feel compelled to call them my people. They are my brothers and my sisters, my people. When did this happen? How can I explain it? I can’t.

In this moment I do, however, know one thing. I know what it is to carry another’s burden, to walk with them in their pain. To groan and twist with the burns and weights that you did not wish to have. They simply came. And so we sit together, souls weeping past logic and hearts gripping each other vise-like over oceans.

We watch. We wait. We cry.

Pray for South Korea.