I’m terrified of writing a m.o.h. speech for my sister’s wedding because I don’t know her. 

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If only my words could produce life. If only my hands could bring about peace. It only I had the courage to greet you with a kiss. It is as though my soul longs to engage you on a level that brought about more than what I can possibly do. Alas, I am not a rain in a drought, or warmth in winter. I am not spring in the time of love or hope in the face of desperation. I am flesh and bones. A man who longs to give you laughter and a voice that will be heard.

I long to give and not take, to provide and not steal. I wish that you would quiet my fears and allow my tears to be seen without shame. But alas, I am flesh and bones. Yet, with love, flesh and bones can become more; and for that, I am grateful.

T.B. LaBerge // I Hope. (via tblaberge)
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I did not want to win Her battles, I wanted to encourage Her to fight. T.B. LaBerge // The Novel of Us (via tblaberge)

(via ayoungwomanslight)

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People are rivers, always ready to move from one state of being into another. It is not fair, to treat people as if they are finished beings. Everyone is always becoming and unbecoming. Kathleen Winter, Annabel (via hislivingpoetry)

(Source: splitterherzen, via hislivingpoetry)

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In 20 years I won’t remember today; that scares me. 10 Word Poem" series - #31 (via kisslng)

(Source: lettersto-savemyself, via ayoungwomanslight)

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Never have I ever felt more connected to a biblical character than the woman who sought the hem of Jesus’ robe to be healed in Mark 5.

She wasted her life to find the ultimate source of healing, and when she saw it, she did whatever she could to get to Him, crawling throughout the throngs of people in the streets. And when she touched the edge of His robe and felt His power, I can only imagine she wanted to cling to Him for the rest of her life because she immediately knew she was healed. When He asked (though He already knew) who had touched Him, she told Him in complete honesty, believing that He would have nothing but the best of intentions for her.

His reply to her simply was “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease.”

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My feelings are not God. God is God. My feelings do not define truth. God’s word defines truth. My feelings are echoes and responses to what my mind perceives. And sometimes - many times - my feelings are out of sync with the truth. When that happens - and it happens every day in some measure - I try not to bend the truth to justify my imperfect feelings, but rather, I plead with God: Purify my perceptions of your truth and transform my feelings so that they are in sync with the truth. John Piper  (via littlethingsaboutgod)

(Source: desertmanian, via applesandowls)

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I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it. (via kvtes)

(Source: emptisighs, via friedapricotpies)

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Oh God, help my unbelief that You have better things planned for me. 

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You are allowed to be alive. You are allowed to be somebody different. You are allowed to not say goodbye to anybody or explain a single thing to anyone, ever. Augusten Burroughs (via fleurslibres)

(Source: skylerhobbs, via ayoungwomanslight)

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One of Those Wondering, Falling Folks