these hallelujahs be multiplied.

Your love is like radiant diamonds,

bursting inside us, we cannot contain.

Your love will surely come find us,

like blazing wild fires, singing Your name.

September, you've been a roller coaster.

Last night, my roller coaster peaked.  It hit the top (or maybe it was the bottom?).  Last night reaffirmed a lot of things for me.

Like how good my friends are, how sweet they are to me.  how loved I really am by them.  how a huge couch, a water, some tissues, and emotional threats can be so comforting.  how precious the Lord works time out.  how deliberately He weaves things together (and apart).  how He aligns things so intricately to help us and to hold us and to protect us.  how big He is, yet how small He can be when it comes to knowing me and know my heart.  how incredibly loving He is.

I'll spare you of the details, but last night, my last eight months hit an emotional wall.  My heart dropped as I felt the weight of things this summer, things in my head, things in my heart, and things forgotten collide.  I was mad and maybe hurt and maybe sad and sort of confused, but overwhelming overwhelmed.  

My wall resulted in tears, tissues, kind words, and sinful words that made me feel better (I'm human).  In the midst of my meltdown, the Lord moved.  He moved mountains in me and in my heart.  In my chaos, He spoke to me and loved me still.

I cannot adequately sum up the last year of my life.  I cannot adequately show you, like I would love to, just how great the Lord has been to me.  But know that my cup overflows.  Matthew 12:34 says that out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.  My inability to properly convey just how sweet Jesus is should scream volumes about what is happening in my heart; it cannot be explained, contained, or refrained.

He has used easy things, hard things, big things, and small things to reveal Himself to me.  Even when/though this season is hard, I love it.  I have fallen madly in love with the only One that can carry the weight of my worship.  How silly I am to think that anyone else can handle the magnitude of it.  How grateful and thankful and happy I am to know that I know the One that can.

Times are hard.  As soon as I think maybe they're not hard, I get hit and my character is tested.  I declare, proclaim, and rejoice in the fact that Jesus always always always wins.

How thankful I am to know my worth in Him.  How thankful I am to know how treasured I am.  How thankful I am to call Jesus mine and to have Him call me His.  How thankful I am for God and for His goodness.  How thankful I am that the Lord gives good gifts and that He only takes things away to give better things.  What a promise.

Lately, I have been so full of love.  The Lord has been overwhelmingly (I'm using that word a lot, but it is the only thing that gets a little close to telling how I feel) evident and real and present.

In the midst of all that and all of this, I ask that you would pray for me.  Pray for my heart because it hurts.  I know Jesus well enough that I can overcome that hurt, but your prayers would only help me more.  Pray that I would continue to see the Lord around me.  Let this season not be a season of aimless wandering, but one of consistent thankfulness.  He is good.

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you is only a start, for it doesn't say nearly enough. You will never get old, I will never ever tire of You, Your grace, or Your faithfulness.  

God of mercy, sweet love of mine, I have surrendered to Your design.

May this offering stretch across the skies.

These hallelujahs be multiplied.

I say You are a good God and I eagerly expect Your goodness today.
I'm ready for you, October.  The best is yet to come.  With my head held even higher today, onward we go.