A Heart’s Journey: Embracing Divine Perspective

As I navigate the complexities of life, I find myself drawn to a profound aspiration - one that transcends the boundaries of my own limited understanding. I yearn to feel with a heart that beats in rhythm with divine compassion, to see the world through eyes unclouded by prejudice or self-interest. This desire isn't born from a place of self-righteousness, but from a deep-seated longing to connect with something greater than myself, to be a vessel for love and understanding in a world often marred by division and indifference.

Lord, I wanna feel with Your heart. These words echo in the chambers of my soul, a prayer that seeks to align my emotions with a love that knows no bounds. I imagine what it would be like to experience empathy so profound that it reaches even those I might consider unlovable. How would it change me to feel the joys and sorrows of others as if they were my own? This kind of emotional resonance feels both terrifying and liberating - a path to connection that could shatter the walls I've built around my heart.

To see the world through Your eyes. Oh, how different the world might appear if I could strip away the layers of judgment and fear that often color my perception. I long for the clarity to see the inherent worth in every individual, to recognize the divine spark that resides in each soul I encounter. What beauty might I discover in the faces of strangers? What potential could I uncover in those society often overlooks? This shift in vision isn't just about seeing good in others; it's about perceiving the intricate tapestry of human experience, with all its pain, resilience, and hope.

I wanna be Your hands and feet. This desire moves beyond mere sentiment into the realm of action. It's a commitment to be a tangible expression of love and service in the world. I envision my hands reaching out to offer comfort to the grieving, to lift up the downtrodden, to build bridges where chasms of misunderstanding exist. I picture my feet carrying me to places of need, stepping out of my comfort zone to stand alongside the marginalized and forgotten. This aspiration challenges me to move beyond passive empathy into active compassion, to be a force for good in both grand gestures and small, everyday acts of kindness.

I wanna live a life that leads. These words resonate with a sense of purpose and responsibility. To lead isn't about standing at the forefront, demanding attention or accolades. Rather, it's about living in such a way that my life becomes a quiet testament to the values I hold dear. It's about making choices that ripple outward, inspiring others not through words alone, but through consistent actions that reflect integrity, compassion, and selflessness. This kind of leadership is humble yet powerful, an invitation to others to discover their own capacity for love and service.

As I contemplate this path, I'm acutely aware of my own shortcomings and limitations. The gap between aspiration and reality often feels vast, and there are days when I fall woefully short of these ideals. Yet, it's in acknowledging my imperfections that I find the grace to keep striving, to view each day as an opportunity for growth and renewal.

This journey of aligning my heart, vision, and actions with a higher purpose isn't a destination to be reached, but a continuous process of transformation. It requires a daily commitment to self-reflection, to challenging my own biases and comfortable assumptions. It demands courage to face the parts of myself that resist change, and humility to admit when I've strayed from this path.

In pursuing this way of life, I've discovered that it's not about achieving perfection, but about progress and authenticity. Each small step towards greater empathy, each moment of seeing beyond surface appearances, each act of kindness - no matter how small - is a victory worth celebrating. These incremental changes accumulate over time, gradually reshaping my character and the way I interact with the world around me.

Moreover, I've come to realize that this journey isn't meant to be walked alone. As I strive to embody these ideals, I find myself drawn into a community of like-minded individuals, each on their own path of growth and service. Together, we encourage one another, share our struggles and triumphs, and collectively work towards creating a more compassionate world.

In the end, this aspiration to feel with a divine heart, see through unclouded eyes, serve with willing hands and feet, and lead through living example is more than just a personal goal. It's a commitment to being part of something larger than myself, to contributing to the healing and upliftment of humanity in whatever way I can. It's a recognition that each of us has the potential to be a force for good, to create ripples of positive change that extend far beyond our immediate sphere of influence.

As I continue on this path, I hold onto hope - hope that through small acts of love and understanding, through persistent efforts to grow and serve, I can play a part in making the world a little brighter, a little kinder, and a little more united. And in this journey, I find not just purpose, but profound joy and fulfillment, knowing that I'm aligning myself with a love that has the power to transform not just individual lives, but the very fabric of our shared human experience.

The Mask of Perfection: A Silent Struggle

Is there anyone that falls? This question echoes in my mind as I sit in the pew, surrounded by faces that seem so composed, so sure of their place in this sacred space. Am I the only one in church today feeling so small? The weight of this thought presses down on me, making it hard to breathe, hard to engage in the worship around me.

I take a look around, and everywhere I see strength. Confident smiles, heads held high, voices raised in unwavering praise. They all seem so... perfect. So unshakeable in their faith. And here I am, a storm of doubts and insecurities raging within me, feeling like an imposter in a congregation of saints.

I know they'll soon discover that I don't belong. This fear gnaws at me, a constant companion that whispers of my inadequacies, my struggles, my failures. How can I stand among these pillars of faith when my own foundation feels so shaky?

So I tuck it all away, like everything's okay. I've become an expert at this - hiding my true feelings behind a facade of calm assurance. I plaster on a smile, nod along to the sermon, sing the hymns with feigned enthusiasm. If I make them all believe it, maybe I'll believe it, too. This hope, however faint, is what keeps me coming back week after week.

With a painted grin, I play the part again. I've rehearsed this role so many times it almost feels natural now. I greet fellow churchgoers with a warmth I don't feel, share testimonies of God's goodness while silently questioning His presence in my life. I do all of this so everyone will see me the way that I see them - strong, faithful, untroubled.

But beneath this carefully constructed exterior, I'm crying out. I long for authenticity, for the courage to be vulnerable, to admit that I'm struggling. I yearn for someone to look me in the eye and say, "Me too. I fall too. You're not alone."

The irony isn't lost on me - that in a place meant for healing and community, I feel the need to hide my true self. That in seeking connection with the Divine, I've disconnected from my own authenticity and from those around me.

As I sit here, maintaining my mask of perfection, I wonder how many others are doing the same. How many painted grins hide trembling hearts? How many strong voices disguise silent cries for help?

Perhaps the real strength isn't in never falling, but in having the courage to admit when we have. Maybe true faith isn't about unwavering certainty, but about continuing to show up, doubts and all.

So today, as I struggle with feeling small in this big church, I make a quiet promise to myself. To take a step, however small, towards authenticity. To risk being seen, truly seen. Because maybe, just maybe, in lowering my mask, I might encourage others to do the same. And in our shared vulnerability, we might all find the belonging we so desperately seek.

The Potter's Hands: A Journey of Faith and Transformation

I still remember the moment when I first heard You call me by name. It was as if the entire universe paused, and in that sacred silence, Your voice resonated through every fiber of my being. In that instant, I knew I'd follow You anywhere, my heart brimming with trust and anticipation for the journey ahead.

But life has a way of testing our resolve, doesn't it? Now, sorrow beats down on me like relentless waves, eroding the certainty I once held so dear. I find myself waiting, longing for You to come through in ways I can tangibly grasp. The silence that once felt sacred now feels oppressive, leaving me alone with my questions, my doubts echoing in the emptiness.

I'm dry and cracked open, like parched earth yearning for rain. My soul thirsts for You with an intensity that surprises even me. It's in these moments of vulnerability, as I fall apart, that I realize how desperately I need You. "Come flood this desert heart," I whisper, a prayer born from the depths of my brokenness. I long for Your presence to fall like rain, like Living Water, reviving the withered places within me.

In my head, I know Your way is best. But oh, how my heart struggles to align with this truth when the path seems so arduous. "Lord, help me find my rest," I plead, recognizing that true peace can only be found in surrendering to Your will. I offer myself as clay in the Hands of the Potter, trusting that You can reshape even my most broken parts into something beautiful.

My world is spinning, life seeming so out of control. Yet in these moments of chaos, I'm drawn to the image of Your nailed, scarred hands. They tell a story of love so profound, so unyielding, that it will never let go of me. This love transcends my understanding, remaining constant through sunshine or rain. It's the bedrock of my hope, anchoring me when everything else feels uncertain.

What You started in me, I trust You will complete. Even when I can't see the progress, I choose to believe that You're working from the inside out, transforming me in ways beyond my comprehension. My world may be breaking me, but Your love is shaping me. And in this process of being broken and remade, I'm becoming something new—something that even the enemy fears.

As I reflect on this journey, I'm struck by the beautiful paradox of faith. It's in my weakness that I find true strength. It's in surrendering control that I gain true freedom. And it's in being broken that I discover the path to wholeness.

So here I stand, or perhaps kneel, offering myself once again as clay in Your hands. I may not understand the process, and at times it may be painful, but I trust the Potter. I trust that every press, every turn on the wheel, is crafting me into a vessel of purpose and beauty.

In the end, this journey of faith isn't about having all the answers or never experiencing doubt. It's about choosing to trust even when the path is unclear. It's about allowing myself to be shaped and reshaped, knowing that the One who calls me by name is faithful to complete the work He's begun.

And as I yield to Your hands, I find a peace that surpasses understanding. For in this surrender, I'm not just being remade—I'm being loved, wholly and completely, by the Master Potter whose vision for my life far exceeds anything I could imagine for myself.

Reflections on Your 57th Birthday

Today is your 57th birthday, and as I sit here, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep peacefully beside me, I'm overwhelmed by the depth of emotion that wells up within me. Not a day goes by that my love doesn't increase, and this morning, on this special day, I find myself marveling at the beautiful journey we've shared.

Fifty-seven years. It's a number that holds so much life, so many memories, so many moments both big and small that have shaped you into the incredible person you are today. And I've been blessed to witness and share in so many of those moments. From the day we first met, to the moment we said "I do," through the joys of building our life together, and yes, even through the unexpected challenges that PNES has brought into our lives—every single day, my love for you has grown deeper, stronger, more resilient.

We are in the fight together. These words have taken on new meaning since PNES entered our lives. What started as a vague medical term has become a daily reality, a force that we face united. I remember the fear in your eyes when we first received the diagnosis, the uncertainty that clouded our future. But in that moment, as I held your hand, I made a silent vow that we would navigate this journey side by side, come what may.

And we have. Through every seizure, every doctor's appointment, every sleepless night filled with worry, we've stood strong together. PNES may have changed the landscape of our lives, but it has not—and will not—change the core of who we are together. If anything, it has revealed the true strength of our bond, the depth of our commitment, the unshakeable foundation of our love.

Forever by your side I will be. This isn't just a romantic notion or a fleeting promise. It's the very essence of who I am and who we are together. It means being there to hold you when the seizures come, to whisper words of comfort when fear threatens to overwhelm you. It means advocating fiercely for your care, researching tirelessly for new treatments and management strategies. It means celebrating every victory, no matter how small, and finding joy in the simple moments of peace between the storms.

But my love, it's not just about being there in the hard times. It's about cherishing every moment we have together, recognizing the gift that each day brings. It's about the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the sound of your laughter that still makes my heart skip a beat after all these years. It's about the quiet moments when we sit together, no words needed, just the comfort of each other's presence.

As you turn 57 today, I'm in awe of the person you've become. Your resilience in the face of PNES is nothing short of inspiring. The way you refuse to let it define you, the strength you show in getting up each day and facing whatever it might bring—it takes my breath away. You've shown me what true courage looks like, not in the absence of fear, but in moving forward despite it.

Our love story isn't the one we might have imagined when we were younger, but it's ours, and it's beautiful in its own right. PNES may have altered our path, but it has also deepened our connection in ways I never thought possible. It's taught us the true meaning of "in sickness and in health," and shown us that love isn't just about the easy, joyful moments—it's about standing together through the storms, finding beauty in the struggle, and emerging stronger on the other side.

Today, as we celebrate your life, I want you to know that you are loved beyond measure. Every line on your face tells a story of our life together, every gray hair a testament to the wisdom you've gained. You are more beautiful to me now than ever before, because I see in you not just the person I fell in love with, but the incredible soul you've become through every trial and triumph we've faced together.

So here's to 57 years of you, my love. Here's to the life we've built, the challenges we've overcome, and the love that continues to grow with each passing day. PNES may be a part of our story, but it doesn't define us. What defines us is the unwavering commitment we have to each other, the love that sustains us through every high and low.

As we face whatever the future holds, know this: I am here, always and forever. By your side in this fight, holding your hand through every challenge, celebrating every joy. Our love is a force stronger than any obstacle we may face, a light that guides us through even the darkest times.

Happy birthday, my darling. Here's to many more years of love, laughter, and life together. Today and always, I am yours—completely, unconditionally, and with a love that only grows stronger with each passing day.

A Symphony of Falling Pieces

In the midst of chaos, when everything seems to be crumbling around me, it's easy to believe that my world is falling apart. The familiar structures I've relied on shake and crumble, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. Each piece that falls away feels like a personal loss, a step further into an abyss of uncertainty.

But in these moments of apparent destruction, a whisper of hope emerges: "Your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place."

This perspective shift is profound, challenging me to see beyond the immediate distress and glimpse a greater design unfolding. It's as if I'm standing in the middle of a vast mosaic, too close to see the full picture. What appears to be random fragments scattering are actually pieces finding their true positions.

I think of how a caterpillar must feel as it enters its chrysalis. To the caterpillar, it might seem like its world is ending—its body literally dissolving. Yet this perceived destruction is the very process that allows it to transform into something beautiful and free.

Similarly, the parts of my life that are "falling apart" might actually be realigning themselves into a more authentic, purposeful configuration. The relationships that drift away may be making room for deeper, more meaningful connections. The career setbacks could be redirecting me towards my true calling. The loss of certain beliefs or expectations might be clearing the way for profound personal growth.

This idea doesn't diminish the pain or challenge of these moments. The process of falling into place can be just as disorienting and frightening as falling apart. But it offers a thread of hope to cling to, a reason to trust the process even when I can't see the end result.

As I embrace this perspective, I find myself approaching challenges with a new sense of curiosity and openness. Instead of resisting change, I'm learning to lean into it, trusting that each shift is moving me closer to where I'm meant to be. I'm discovering patience with the process, understanding that true transformation takes time.

In the quiet moments, when I step back and observe the trajectory of my life, I can see how past "falling apart" moments have led to beautiful new beginnings. The pieces that once seemed irrevocably broken have often become the foundation for something stronger and more authentic than I could have imagined.

So now, when I feel the tremors of change shaking my world, I take a deep breath and remind myself: this is not an ending, but a realignment. My world is not falling apart; it's falling into a new, more harmonious arrangement. And though the process may be challenging, I choose to trust in the beauty of the final composition.

In this trust, I find peace amidst the chaos, hope within the uncertainty. I open my hands and my heart, ready to receive the new shape my life is taking. For in this falling—this beautiful, terrifying, exhilarating falling—I am not lost. I am simply finding my way to where I truly belong.

Broken Vessels, Infinite Grace

We'll say everything happens for a reason. These words, often spoken in times of confusion or pain, carry a profound truth that extends far beyond mere platitude. In the intricate weaving of our lives, every thread—be it vibrant or dark—contributes to a masterpiece beyond our comprehension.

It's tempting to give our foolish ways a clever spin, to rationalize our mistakes and missteps as part of some grand design. And while there's comfort in this perspective, the true beauty lies not in our ability to justify our actions, but in the grace that transforms even our greatest follies into stepping stones toward growth and redemption.

I've heard them say the Lord won't give you anything you can't handle. This sentiment, well-intentioned as it may be, falls short of capturing the magnificent interplay between divine strength and human frailty. The truth is, we can't handle anything without Him. This realization, far from being an admission of weakness, is a powerful acknowledgment of our place in the cosmic dance of creation and sustenance.

In our moments of greatest challenge, when the weight of the world seems to rest squarely on our shoulders, it's not our own strength that carries us through. It's the inexhaustible wellspring of divine love and power that lifts us, sustains us, and propels us forward. Our inability to handle life's trials on our own isn't a flaw in our design; it's an intentional aspect of our creation that draws us into deeper communion with our Creator.

This dependence on divine grace doesn't diminish our worth or negate our efforts. Instead, it elevates our struggles and triumphs into a collaborative effort with the Divine. Every challenge we face becomes an opportunity for God's strength to be perfected in our weakness. Every victory, no matter how small, becomes a testament to the power of faith and the endurance of the human spirit when aligned with divine purpose.

The beauty of this truth lies in its universality. Regardless of our background, beliefs, or circumstances, we all share in this fundamental need for something greater than ourselves. It's a humbling yet empowering realization that unites us in our humanity and our spirituality.

As we navigate the complexities of life, embracing both its joys and sorrows, we can find profound comfort and strength in knowing that we're not meant to face it alone. The hand that crafted the universe is the same hand that holds us through our darkest nights and brightest days. This isn't a crutch for the weak, but a source of infinite power for those wise enough to recognize their need for it.

So let us approach life with a new perspective—one that acknowledges our limitations while celebrating the limitless potential that comes from aligning ourselves with divine purpose. Let's reframe our understanding of strength, not as an individual trait to be cultivated in isolation, but as a gift to be received and shared in community with others and in communion with the Divine.

In this light, every challenge becomes an invitation to grow, every setback an opportunity for comeback, and every moment a chance to experience the transformative power of grace. We are not alone in our struggles or our triumphs. We are part of a greater story, one where everything truly does happen for a reason—a reason far more beautiful and profound than we could ever orchestrate on our own.

This is the true clever spin on our existence—not that we can handle everything thrown our way, but that in our inability to do so, we discover a strength and purpose far greater than ourselves. And in this discovery, we find not just survival, but flourishing; not just endurance, but joy in the journey.

Broken Together: A Symphony of Resilience

Maybe you and I were never meant to be complete. This realization dawned on us slowly, like the gradual lifting of a fog, as we navigated the tumultuous waters of Tim's PNES diagnosis. We entered this journey with preconceived notions of what our life together should look like - a picture-perfect image of health, happiness, and unwavering stability. But life, in its infinite wisdom, had other plans for us.The upheaval brought by PNES shattered our illusions of control and predictability. Each seizure became a stark reminder of our vulnerability, of the fragility of the human condition. We watched helplessly as the future we had carefully planned crumbled before our eyes, leaving us disoriented and afraid. In those early days, the weight of our broken dreams felt almost unbearable.

Could we just be broken together? This question emerged from the depths of our shared pain, a lifeline in the storm of uncertainty. We began to understand that perhaps our strength wasn't in our ability to maintain a facade of perfection, but in our willingness to be authentically vulnerable with each other. In showing our cracks, our fears, our moments of weakness, we paradoxically found a deeper connection.

If you can bring your shattered dreams and I'll bring mine. We sat together, amidst the remnants of our expectations - the career advancements put on hold, the carefree adventures postponed indefinitely, the simple joys of predictable days now tinged with anxiety. As we shared these broken pieces, something remarkable began to happen. Our individual fragments of loss and disappointment began to form a new picture - one of shared resilience and unwavering commitment.

Could healing still be spoken and save us? We discovered that healing isn't always about returning to a previous state of wholeness. Sometimes, it's about finding new ways to be whole. In the quiet moments between seizures, in the late-night conversations filled with tears and laughter, we spoke healing into existence. It wasn't the dramatic, instantaneous healing we initially hoped for, but a gradual, profound transformation of our hearts and minds.

We learned to celebrate small victories - a day with less seizures, a new coping mechanism discovered, a moment of joy snatched from the jaws of anxiety. We found healing in the compassion of friends who stood by us, in the understanding nods of others walking similar paths, and in the unconditional love we continued to nurture between us.

The only way we'll last forever is broken together. This truth became our mantra, a reminder that our love isn't defined by the absence of challenges but by how we face them united. We realized that lasting love isn't about finding someone who completes you, but someone who accepts your incompleteness and chooses to stand beside you anyway.

Our journey with PNES taught us that brokenness isn't a flaw to be hidden, but a unique aspect of our shared story. We learned to embrace the unpredictability of our days, finding strength in our ability to adapt and support each other through each twist and turn. Our love deepened in the crucible of adversity, emerging stronger, more resilient, and infinitely more precious.

In this brokenness, we discovered a new kind of wholeness. We found beauty in the way we hold space for each other's struggles, in the gentle understanding that flows between us during difficult moments. We learned that vulnerability isn't weakness, but the cornerstone of true intimacy and connection.

Together, we're writing a love story that's raw, real, and unbreakable - not despite our brokenness, but because of it. We've learned to dance in the rain of uncertainty, to find laughter in the absurdity of our challenges, and to hold each other tight when the world feels overwhelming.

Our broken pieces, once jagged and painful, have become the very thing that binds us together. Like the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is mended with gold, our fractures have become our most beautiful features. They tell the story of our resilience, our unwavering commitment, and the depth of our love.

As we continue this journey, we do so with a profound appreciation for the strength we've found in our shared brokenness. We no longer strive for an illusion of perfection, but for the authentic, messy, beautiful reality of two imperfect people choosing each other every day.

In the end, maybe being broken together isn't about settling for less. Perhaps it's about recognizing that true love and genuine connection arise not from flawlessness, but from the courage to be real, vulnerable, and wholly ourselves with another person. And in that shared vulnerability, in that mutual acceptance of our brokenness, we've found a love more complete and fulfilling than we ever imagined possible.

The Liberation of Love: A Journey from Bondage to Belonging

Freedom's arms are open, my chains have all been broken. These words resonate deeply within my soul, echoing the profound transformation that has occurred in my life. For so long, I was bound by invisible shackles—fears, doubts, and the weight of expectations both self-imposed and inherited. These chains clinked softly with every step, a constant reminder of my limitations and perceived inadequacies.

But in a moment of divine intervention, those chains began to crumble. It wasn't a sudden, dramatic shattering, but a gradual loosening—link by link, fear by fear. As I dared to step into the light of unconditional love, I found that my bonds no longer held the same power over me. The process was often painful, requiring me to confront the very things that had kept me captive for so long. Yet with each confrontation, with each choice to trust in a love greater than my fears, another chain fell away.

Relentless love has called me from the start. This realization hit me with the force of a tidal wave, washing away years of misconceptions about my worth and my place in the world. From the very beginning, before I drew my first breath, this love had been pursuing me—patient, persistent, and unwavering. It called to me in the quiet moments of reflection, in the beauty of nature, in the kindness of strangers, and even in the depths of my darkest struggles.

This love didn't demand perfection or require me to earn its favor. It simply invited me to be—to exist in the fullness of who I was created to be, flaws and all. It whispered of acceptance when I felt rejected, of purpose when I felt lost, of hope when despair threatened to overwhelm me. Even in my moments of rebellion or indifference, this love never retreated, never diminished. It remained constant, a beacon calling me home to my true self.

And all You wanted was my heart. The simplicity of this truth struck me with its profound implications. In a world that often demands achievements, accolades, and constant striving, here was a love that asked for nothing more than my authentic self. Not my accomplishments, not my good deeds, not my attempts at perfection—just my heart, with all its complexities, contradictions, and capacity for love.

This revelation challenged everything I thought I knew about love and acceptance. I had spent so much of my life trying to earn approval, to prove my worth through my actions and achievements. But here was a love that saw beyond all of that, that valued me not for what I could do, but for who I am at my core.

Surrendering my heart wasn't easy. It meant letting go of control, of the illusion that I could somehow make myself worthy of love through my own efforts. It required vulnerability—opening up the deepest, most tender parts of myself to be seen, known, and loved. This surrender was both terrifying and liberating, like stepping off a cliff and finding that instead of falling, I could fly.

As I embraced this truth—that all You wanted was my heart—I found myself transformed. The chains that once bound me became the very things that, in breaking, set me free. My fears became opportunities for courage, my doubts gateways to deeper faith, my weaknesses channels for grace to flow.

This journey from bondage to belonging has reshaped my understanding of freedom. True freedom, I've discovered, isn't about the absence of constraints or the ability to do whatever I want. It's about being fully and authentically myself, embraced by a love that sees me completely and values me unconditionally.

In giving my heart, I found that I gained everything. The relentless love that had been calling me from the start became the foundation of my identity, the source of my strength, and the wellspring of my purpose. It empowered me to love others more freely, to extend grace more readily, and to live more courageously.

As I stand now in freedom's open arms, I marvel at the journey that brought me here. The broken chains at my feet serve as reminders of where I've been and testaments to the transformative power of love. And in the endless horizon before me, I see countless opportunities to share this liberating truth with others—that freedom awaits, love is relentless, and all that's required is an open heart.