Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.
The Winter of the Air (via akachristiannaa)

(Source: kalynroseanne)

So often we try to make other people feel better by minimizing their pain, by telling them that it will get better (which it will) or that there are worse things in the world (which there are). But that’s not what I actually needed. What I actually needed was for someone to tell me that it hurt because it mattered. I have found this very useful to think about over the years, and I find that it is a lot easier and more bearable to be sad when you aren’t constantly berating yourself for being sad.
John Green (via breanna-lynn)

(Source: fishingboatproceeds)

I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You, yourself, are the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?
C.S. Lewis  (via catherineclur)

(Source: blissfulbeardsdoitbest)

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.
Theodore Roosevelt

(via redwoodcollective)

(Source: daringtofocus)

There are things you’ve struggled with all your life- self doubt, anger, depression, shame, addiction, fear. You probably thought all that those were your fault too.

But they are not. They came from the Enemy who wants to take your heart captive, make you a prisoner of darkness.


Captivating, Stasi Eldridge (via becomingcaptivated)
We are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.
Carson McCullers (via redwoodcollective)

(Source: vvolare)

I hope that one day you will have the experience of doing something you do not understand for someone you love.
Jonathan Safran Foer; “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” (via hannahetaylor)

(Source: ohfairies)

I am well aware that Godly men are rare. Lots of neat Christian boys, not a lot of Godly men.
Matt Chandler (via akachristiannaa)

(Source: tallerthanlions)

That idea [the one] is a steaming pile of garbage that has woman after woman in a search for the unicorn, the oompa loompa… See in this idiot ideology that we’ve created with our movies, if one person marries the wrong person doesn’t that jack it up for everybody? This is a foolish idea. I’m just a man and my wife is just a girl. She cannot complete me, cannot fulfill me, cannot make sense of my world. And to expect her to is to put pressure on her that she will be unable to carry, will be unable to sustain, and will be unable to bring any of those things into my life which will create in me an anger towards her for not doing what she was never designed to do, created to do, or able to do. So when a woman says this man will complete me, this man will make sense of my world, this man will help me know who I am, this man will heal my wounds… you are putting weight on a man that he will be unable to sustain and it will only be a matter of time before he develops hobbies to get out from under that expectation. Put your hope in God, not men. We’re sinners which means sometimes on accident and sometimes on purpose we are going to fail you and wound you. Don’t ask us to be more than we were designed to be.
Matt Chandler (via keepinitsouthern)
If you can’t see the sun you will be impressed with a street light. If you’ve never felt thunder and lightning you’ll be impressed with fireworks. And if you turn your back on the greatness and majesty of God you’ll fall in love with a world of shadows and short-lived pleasures.
John Piper  (via onetrueromance)

(Source: iscl)

He does not want a girl who trifles with Christianity. He wants a woman who is radically given to Christ. He does not want a girl who prays tepid, lukewarm prayers. He wants a woman who lives in defiance of the powers of Hell. He does not want a girl who is self-adorning with the latest fashions and trends. He wants a woman who is adorned with the inner jewelry of Christ-given holiness. He does not want a girl who dishonors and belittles her parents. He wants a woman who honors the authorities God has placed in her life and serves them with charity and gladness. He does not want a girl whose Bible is an accessory to her wardrobe. He wants a woman whose hunger and thirst is to know the Lord, and who diligently feasts upon His Word. He does not want a girl whose tongue is a deceptive weapon of selfishness. He wants a woman whose words drip with the honey of the name of Jesus.

Leslie Ludy

I want so badly to be that kind of woman.

A woman in her glory, a woman of beauty, is a woman who is not striving to become beautiful or worthy or enough. She knows in her quiet center where God dwells that he finds her beautiful, has deemed her worthy, and in him, she is enough.
Stasi Eldredge, Captivating (via hopefisch)
But courage, child: we are all between the paws of the true Aslan.
C.S. Lewis (via 2corinththoughts)
I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds.
Andrea Gibson  (via pale-afternoon)

(Source: hellanne)

He knew why he wanted to kiss her. Because she was beautiful. And before that, because she was kind. And before that, because she was smart and funny. Because she was exactly the right kind of smart and funny. Because he could imagine taking a long trip with her without ever getting bored. Because whenever he saw something new and interesting, or new and ridiculous, he always wondered what she’d have to say about it—how many stars she’d give it and why.
Rainbow Rowell, Attachments (via thedapperproject)

(Source: larmoyante)

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