Spandex.

Bike rack friends like Rachel, Rafa, and Jay are such a special breed. You get acquainted checking out each others' rides, show you care and remember by noticing each other's new bar tape and pedals, bond over cocondemning that douchebag's inconsiderate lock job and scheming to protect the world from his ways by applying spermicide to his seat. Dwight worthy.

So Jay you wear a helmet now finally?
Yeah close call this summer almost got doored. And you? You're cycling more, I see your bike out here every day...
Cycling?! No cycling is for people who wear spandex. I am biking more though it's my primary mode of transportation...

But actually I have been wearing more spandex than ever in my life. We laugh about D III athletics and mascots... Beavers, really? And how quadraplegics would cover more ground, get it? Am grateful to be back on my pony with the hurts-so-good daily burn of micro-tears, and a good exhaustion at every night, remembering that not so long ago, a fat suit and ugly clothes felt like armor. Learning the discipline of sleep because tomorrow begins tonight, there was evening, and there were new mercies, a new day. Blessed are You o Lord Who daily renews....

Day at a time, lezzgoooo.

Tears in Heaven

Weep, but not as those who have no hope.
He'll let your tears into heaven, you know--
They're not just gonna disappear like they never mattered.
He'll let them in, so that He can wipe every one of them away.
And you'll see him clearly, with eyes unmarred by tears,
You'll sorrow no more.
Someday, someday soon.
Someday in a short while, He will.
Lord, come dab just a few today.

In these days, we return not only to our hurt but also to Your help.

President Obama reads Psalm 46 at Ground Zero.

God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear...

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God...
God will help her when morning dawns.

Come behold the works of the LORD...
"Be still, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!"

The LORD of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

To RBC, a free bird.

Before the abolition, there was once a northerner who went to a slave auction and purchased a young slave girl. As they walked away from the auction, the man turned to the girl and told her, "You're free." 

With amazement she responded, "You mean, I'm free to do whatever I want?" 

"Yes," he said. 

"And to say whatever I want to say?" 

"Yes, anything." 

"And to be whatever I want to be?" 

"Yep." 

"And even go wherever I want to go?" 

"Yes," he answered with a smile. "You're free to go wherever you'd like." 

She looked at him intently and replied, "Then I will go with you."

Adapted from Surprised by Grace, by Tullian Tchividjian.

Notes along a mournful mountain climb, 2.

A week into NYC, I was off and up set with the cold dawning that the climb that I had thought and hoped would end at Easter was not over. It had just begun. Until we see Him face to face, it will always just be beginning.

I have not died enough. I was crippled in the shadow of how staggeringly high the hills were yet. How fortified were my high places. How deeply rooted were my idols and fears. How those unsummoned memories were prisons still.

But He is for my joy. More joy, more freedom, more wholeness than I wanted for myself. More than all that was secured by Lyoshenka. More rest and safety, then, than he could shatter. More love, not less.

Along the way, I've wondered if I hadn't lost my way.
Why does it feel like death, if this be the path of life?
If my climb was the worthy one. How do I know?

Repentance is much more than a U-turn. Repentance is a climb. A long and arduous climb where we fight against the gravity of our sin, the weight of our flesh, and the weakness of our will. To repent is to press on, to take another step closer to the summit yet unseen. 

He leads me in Right paths. 

The Shepherd found me in the deep ravines, broken and lost. He rescued me, and restored me. He is teaching me to climb these high hills in search of the rising sun. 

Here we go, back to the mournful--but joyful!--mountain road.
Simply amazed, I am not abandoned.
You can never lose me.

You give me a cloud of martyrs--those who've died well.
SO GRATEFUL today for Jerry/RBC/Jon/Irene/Mox/M/George/Nikelle/Kev/Kash.
You give me Yourself. You died well.
You make my steps sure.
You say, die well, and so live.

you'll get there, you know.

to eternity's shore.

day at a time.

sunrise to sunrise.

I'll see to it.

Shepherd my anger.

I feel angry… not angry at someone in particular, but about many things in general. I don’t do anger well, Jesus, so really shepherd my anger. I usually stuff it deep—into a dark cellar where it grows like mold. I don’t want old hurts to barrel into the present situation, making it hard to stay engaged, gentle and kind. I’m certain I want to honor you more than I want to feel vindicated. // Scotty Smith

When the unsummoned, unwelcome past invades the day, Lord act. Heal. Love.

When I'm not certain of your love, I resort to unhealthy, destructive choices.

"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs” (Jonah 2:8). I don’t want to be swallowed by something big just to be brought back to gospel sanity, yet again. So shepherd me now, Jesus, to your glory and my growth.

You are autumn.

still I notice You when change begins
and I am braced for colder winds
i will offer thanks for what has been and whats to come

// nichole nordeman