like david did.


I struggle with this idea of sharing.

You could say I wear my heart on my sleeve. I just can’t do shallow relationships, surface living. But there are still things I hold close to my heart, because they are mine and they are fragile. There is something to be said for mystery and secrecy, for not posting every thought and feeling you have on twitter.

I’ve been writing, a lot, the past year. I have a load of posts written and waiting to be published. There are even more words waiting to be refined. But I’ve kept silent, hovering over that line, how to be vulnerable without sharing too much, how to be open without baring my soul for the world to criticize, crucify, condemn.

I feel called to share, to encourage. That’s a scary thing. The words that come spilling out of me are a direct line to the etchings in my heart. When I write out of pain, it usually turns, much like a psalm, into a declaration of God’s love and character. Even when it hurts, I can see the silver lining, the lesson in the madness. I can find a way to encourage at least myself with the journey I’ve been through.

But what about the times when my experiences, the things I’m battling in the right now, do not take a turn to the positive? What about the times I’m still in a valley? What if I share about the journey while I’m still trudging through the canyon and still desperately trying to see the the top of the mountain?

That’s much more difficult. To admit to the world that, hey, I don’t have it all together, that I don’t have an answer for everything, that I haven’t found the purpose as I soldier on, that I haven’t made it to the other side of this trial. But. BUT. God is ever faithful. Strong and present at all times, in all things. And, even when I’m weak, I will proclaim the strength of Him, for His glory.

Even when I feel a little lost on the journey, I know, above all things, that I am known by the most high God, the King of all, the Savior of my soul.

I want to take my cues from David, the man after God’s heart, who was just a boy when called to be a king, who royally screwed up time and again and yet, was still set apart by God. David, who penned songs of worship to his King when he was in spiritual valleys and literal caves, who called out to God in the depths, who rejoiced in the victories, and always, always, always praised Him.

I have nothing earth-shattering to say other than, I resolve to be like David. Real. Honest. Proclaiming God despite the pain or joy that may be revealed in the process.

After God’s heart.

That alone is brave, and I know that is something He is calling me to. Brave. My word for the year, my mission to understand what being brave means, the obvious courageous feats and the less-shiny acts of sacrifice, selflessness, and acceptance, to live out my own brave in what He’s made me to do.

As God told Samuel concerning David, “For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.”

Here’s to being a woman after God’s heart, to not being afraid to show a little heart, to not holding back the things that God stirs in my own heart. Here's to, first and above all, having a brave heart.

And it starts here. Psalms. Vulnerability. Sharing. Acknowledging.

Be gracious to me, O Lord,
for to you do I cry all the day.
Gladden the soul of your servant,
for to you, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.
For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, 
abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you.
Give ear, O LORD, to my prayer;
listen to my plea for grace.
In the day of trouble I call upon you,
for you answer me. 
Psalm 86:3-7