Level the mountains.

I will go before you

and level the mountains.

I will break down gates of bronze

and cut through bars of iron.

I will give you hidden treasures,

riches stored in secret places,

so that you may know I am LORD.

the God of Israel that summons you by name.

- Isaiah 45.2-3

How's that for "My daughter, you do not need to fight. I'm gonna do it. That's what I'm here for. I am the King and have beautiful secrets and mysteries and desires of your heart to revel for you, in MY time, if you'd only sit back and wait. For I. Love. You. I love you, my child."

Yes.

Photo credit: 1 

Well she was an American girl, raised on promises.

via

Before this year, I never dreamed I'd...

live with my 6 best friends in Atlanta's Druid Hills | yell "Go Dawgs" on Milledge Ave. in Athens, Ga. | drive windows-down through Nebraskan cornfields |  stop for Amish carriages in Lancaster County, Pa. | navigate a hot car through Manhattan rush hour | have a post-initiation galavant on the Washington D.C. mall | nom-nom-nom on legit chocolate in Hershey, Pa. | yell "GO NITTANY LIONS" from the 40 yardline at a Penn State game | run through Seattle's misty rain (or hit the dance flo' at a Seattle honky-tonk on Halloween) | stand over the Missouri River with one foot in Iowa and one in Nebraska | sneak into a Yale Law classroom | cheer half-for-Maryland and half-for-FSU at the ACC Championship Game | gaze down at the Rockies | hit up a bar alongside some Hoosiers in Bloomington, Ind. (well, hit up any bar wherever I was when the Auburn Tigers took the field) | soak up Civil War history in Lexington, Va. | slip on snowy sidewalks in Des Moines, Iowa | lick my fingers after a Georgetown Cupcake | spy Churchill Downs, Ky. | join my Gator-lovin' sisters and some frat boys for a mixer in Gainesville, Fla. | worship over a sunrise in Detroit, Mich. | bundle up for a early morning run through UVA and Charlottesville, Va. | get chills at Mount Vernon | honor Virginia Tech's 4/16 memorial | frolic in Knoxville, Tenn.'s Market Square | fall more in love with baseball at Fenway Stadium | make s'mores at an Ohio State Park | vintage shop on South Congress Street | stomp my cowgirl boots to live music in Austin, Tex. | fly over the Grand Canyon | have margaritas in an alumna's cacti-covered Pheonix, Ariz. backyard | do Vegas big with my besties...

It's been a heckuva year! And if possible, America means more to me now than it did a year ago. 

But may we remember, Phil. 3.20, that our citizenship is in heaven with our Father.

And so if we ask to be blessed, and if we thank God to be free,

we caution that "blessing" turned into "guaranteed safety" sometime along

when Budweiser brilliantly decided cover cans in the American flag.

And that notion (not the cans) is wrong.

Because someone and Someone had to die for that.

That safety.

And Christians are never guaranteed safety.

We're guaranteed freedom.

Glorious, full, infinite, grace-soaked, loving f-r-e-e-d-o-m.

And we choose Christ over the American Dream.

It's like one of the most jam-up lines C.S. Lewis penned:

"Safe? Who said anything about being safe? 'Course he isn't safe.

But He's good. He's the King, I tell you."

- The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Happy Fourth of July from the Stallings family, y'all!

K-dawg and I demonstrating the best water adventure ever next to skiing.

 

Blog post title: "American Girl" by Tom Petty.

Look at me now.

You followed as I trekked to 30 campuses and 24 states.
Now, in less than a month, I'll be moving to this state:

 Photo courtesy of Pinterest.

To live with this kid:

Emily, another 2010-2011 LC, precious sister in Christ, and henceforth to be known as ROOOOOOMS!

...and start as Director of Marketing and Communications in this office:

Photo courtesy of Georgia Historical Markers.

It's funny, ya know--posts I've written this on the road whole year show a thematic repetitiveness: security, patience, security, patience, security, patience. If you successfully passed pre-K and made macaroni patterns, ya see what I mean.

The thing is, I letcha know last week how our Father is leading me through some desert lands lately. But wanna know what a quiet little voice in my heart whispered? "Ash. When you get a job, this will feel better. It'll go away." And Deut. 8:14 ("then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God") reveberated, because I'd have this awesome job, right? And I just couldn't forget about living off manna for months, right?

Yeah. Wrong.

The minute I decided to pick this job--which is a blessing beyond words--I clicked "end call." Tears rolled down my cheeks. Satan got goin': "Wrong decision, Ashlyn/You've limited yourself./You really wanna break into the Atlanta media world now? Ha./You shoulda picked the other one./Blahblahblah." Now, I see it was that liar talking. I didn't at the time.

But here's the thing.

I thought that almighty j-o-b held cure-power. Thought I'd regain confidence battered through the job search. Thought I'd be at peace with a "Yes ma'am, I decided I'll take it."

Instead, through those tears, ha--I heard You, Lord. Heard ya loud and clear alright:

"Ashlyn Stallings. When did I ever say you'll find peace in this world apart from Me? When did I ever tell you true security stemmed from anything but ME?"

Oh, I said. Ohhhhhhhh. (Cue sheepish smile looking up at Him.) "Um, well, ha, God, You actually tell me the opposite. In YOU I have peace. Confidence. Security. In YOU I boast and have life and move and breathe."

I'm better now. But just more in awe of my Lord and Savior. Who continues to see the value in teaching one (one out of 6 billion, b-t-dubs) of His children that she's gotta trust her Rock through the desert, and through the promised lands. As I jump off this cliff, move to the "big city," and live on my own, I'm in His hands. Still under those wings. Praise God.

So here I come, Peach State! Between Atlanta-based ballet camps growing up, good people, and a certain lil' house on Ponce, Georgia's claimed second place to Alabama for a while in my heart. I can't wait to call it home. Plus, two girls that since age 18 have only known private school dorms, sorority houses, and suitcases? Well, that could be interesting! 

You just stay put, sweet friend, as we attempt to cook. 

Make a home.

Entertain.

Put those DIY and cooking Pinterest tags to use!

And of course, explore our new city of ATL. 

Thus now starts the next chapter in this little blog's life:

Miss Magnolia makes the move.

Oh boy!

Blog post title: "Look at Me Now" by Chris Brown. Except you have to watch this version, with Justin Bieber and Chris. It's sick. Thanks, Bec. :)

This dry and desert land, I tell myself keep walkin' on.

Photo courtesy of Because I'm Addicted.

I have to be really honest with you about something.
 

Guess it was back when I used to rock my plaid skirt and crested cardigan at Trinity. I distinctly remember popcorn-reading Joshua in class. And some kid got the verse with this word: Hamstringing. I have no clue how many years have passed. But this noun has reserved a spot in my mind-catalog ever since. Essentially, hamstringing is a war technique where the muscle in question is sliced. Dunno 'bout you, but that phrase alone makes my legs feel immobile. Crippled. Ever felt like that?

Lately, that word's been on my mind.
I'm hamstringed (hamstrung?).
Crawling.
Weak.

I've got a month until I jet out to Phoenix for my last ADPi work trip, but 'til then? Welp. Just job searchin', kinda. Pretending I don't really live in a city I swore I'd never reside in between college and family life. A city I know like the back of my hand. A city where your last name goes ahead and gives people a sketch of who you are before you pop your mouth open.

To a 22-year-old, adventure-hungry, travel-loving, firecracker-type girl?

This is rough.

Then a beautiful sister in Christ showed me Deuteronomy 8.

Hey.

I know that desert.

I'm being fed that manna. Manna I don't want. Manna I've never seen before.

"To humble and test me so that in the end it might go well with me."

Good land will come.

Because You caused me to hunger.

Why?

So You could feed me this manna.

Because You discipline me in love.

I feel like I'm already in that Phoenix desert. There is a heart-change going on inside of me now. One I pray--PRAY--that when this sweet, aching spell breaks, I'll remember. Because I'm absolutely at His feet every day.

Seeing that maybe I'm home to face giants.

Giants, aka "Lessons I Hate Learning."

But lessons that are 1 Corinthians 13 in nature:

To learn again how to submit.

To learn how to seek the opposite of myself.

To look materialism in the eye (more on this later).

To learn patience.

David faced his giant with You. Teach me how to face my giants, Lord.

Because for now, I'm okay in this desert. I'm okay crawled up in the shadow of Your wings.

"This dry and desert land, I tell myself keep walking on.

Hear something up ahead, water falling like a song.

An everlasting stream / Your river carries me home,

All my fountains are in You."

- Chris Tomlin, "All My Fountains"

And if you feel stranded, you should go read Deut. 8. Because you're really not stranded at all.

That's all.

It's gotta be the best love song she ever heard in her life.

Photo courtesy of Lexi Moody Photography.

Welp, I'm home from ATL.

And I promise Imma catch you up asap.

But I do have to bring your attention to one thing: It's another sermon series. This time by Andy Stanley out of North Point Community Church in Atlanta called "The New Rules of Love, Sex, and Dating." I'm pretty sure I want to blast the series on loud for our entire generation to hear, considering we took a divine design and shattered it by and large.

And you know me by now--ha, I don't ever post too many details of my life up here (and ESPECIALLY my dating life. "Hey handsome, so this has been fun, you don't mind if I blog about it for a few thousand readers, right?"), so I'm not going to like, give you details on what I learned or how I've been on the edge of my seat every Sunday.

But you should probably go listen to them. Before. You. Ever. Go. On. Another. Date.

One more thing--Before the sermon got geared up this past Sunday, the praise band pulls this stunt. Hysterical. It's 33 love songs rolled into one. I'm debating how weird it would be to mp3 this and load it on my iPod. I mean, I'd totally sing this on roadtrips, right?

Blog post title - "The Best Love Song" by T-Pain feat. Chris Brown.

A holiday at the sea.

Photo courtesy of Sun Surfer.

"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

- C.S. Lewis

Heck. Yes.

This quote nails it.

I gotta get around to reading his whole "The Weight of Glory" sermon one of these days...

Leah's song.

Photo courtesy of Tumblr.

It's like this: I heard this sermon by a guy named Matt Carter three weeks ago in Austin. And there's this one part that still has me bewitched...

He preached from Genesis 29, at that whole Jacob-Rachel-love-thing part. The whole sermon is fantastic really, but I like the part when he talks about Leah. So this guy named Jacob (who's pretty tight with God) sees Rachel and BAM--falls. She's gorgeous/hot/great and the guy's sold. Good news: she likes him back. Her father Laban will give Rachel, his youngest, to Jacob in marriage if Jacob works seven years for him. Note this: the Bible really does say that Rachel was "beautiful in form" but Leah, the firstborn daughter, had "weak eyes." You got that? It's important.

Laban, jerk that he is if you ask me, tricks Jacob and on the wedding day, puts his firstborn Leah under the wedding veil. After seven years of work. Jacob's decieved. Jerk.

Longstoryshort, Jacob works seven more years and gets his prize.

But Mr. Carter brought up something I'd not considered: Have you thought about it from Leah's point of view? She loved him. She did. She fell so hard. And never had a chance.

"I guarantee you that from the time she was little, her daddy told her 'Leah, you're just as beautiful as Rachel. Don't let anyone tell you differently; you're just as beautiful... I know the guys are looking at your sister, but it's okay. I'm going to find someone for you. You're going to get married first."

And in waltzes Jacob into their lives. And he could care less about her.

Affliction.

She wanted Jacob so badly. But honestly, she just wasn't attractive to him. Pretty enough. Even when Rachel is found barren, and Leah is the wife whose womb is open--victory, right? Wrong. Still Jacob doesn't care. Doesn't fall in love.

First son:

"It is because the LORD has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now."

Second son:

"Because the LORD heard that I am not loved, he gave me this one too."

Third son:

"Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons."

He'll sleep with her. But he doesn't love Leah.

But

Fourth son:

"This time I will praise the LORD.”

She gives him to God. After all those trials.

God poured his faithfulness in her life. It wasn't heartbreak--Leah was walking through tragedy. There may not be a better picture of God's love, presence, and faithfullness than the story of Leah. THIS son, she says, is for the Lord.

Ever heard of the Lion of Judah?
That's a name for Jesus.

God picked Leah to bear the line.

Maybe Jacob didn't love her, but God did.

God wanted her heart.

He loved her too much to let her put all that trust and hope in a man. In a human.

It's God's to have.

Maybe God's doing something in your heart that hurts. But maybe it's to get you to give your heart to him.

"Any affliction is for your comfort and salvation."

Wow.

Loves like a hurricane.

Photo "Storm Serge of Hurricane Felix" courtesy here.

Katrina. That's all I needed to say; your mind is thumbing through a broken blur of messy pictures. The author below lost everything due to Katrina. Obviously, I love pictures--I need God to give me pictures to help me grasp His promises--and this one's pretty cool:

"When Jesus calls us to abandon everything we have and everything we are, it's almost as if He is daring us to put ourselves in the flood plain. To put all our lives and all our churches, all our property and all our possessions, all our plans, and all our strategies, all our hopes and all our dreams in front of the levee and then to ask God to break it. To ask God to sweep away whatever he wants, to leave standing whatever He desires, and to remake our lives and churches according to His will."

- Radical Together by David Platt

Can we do that, brothers and sisters?

Better yet, can I pray that and actually be aware of the

implications that come with the prayer...

When I get through the teetering stack of four books on my nightstand, I'm downing Radical Together. Click here to read the first chapter.

Blog post title: "How He Loves" by the David Crowder Band and like a million other bands. But I heard Davido sing it first so I'm givin' him credit.

Greater love.

Photo courtesy of Bippity Boppity Boo.

I get to the Austin airport bright and squirrley.

2-hour delay, no big. Normal.

Then "We're gonna turn around and go back to the gate
because this engine shows signs of being faulty."

Touch down in Chicago.

"Ma-am, you've missed your connection. We got you on the next flight out."

In 3 hours.

Which is delayed 2 hours.

Then a bunch of us miss the gate change because they called it out once.

So they put us going into LaGuardia, and me and my new friend-pack
sprint to L6.

Board.

Wait 40 minutes because one of the flight attendants was delayed in Tulsa.

Land around 2:30 a.m.--but in Newark.

Not LaGuardia. i.e. half the plane is outraged.

Really.

(I'd doubt my intellegenece/competency as a human if it weren't for 10 other humans missing the whole "destination city" thing, too.)

I call the girls, and they drive from Newark to LaGaurdia.
So we can drive to Connecticut.

We get in around 4:45 a.m. and I sleep for a couple of hours.
Back to work.
Oh but wait, my luggage has been shipped to another airport.
No one knows where.

I basically looked like a shacker all day.

Miserable.

** American Airlines, I hope you enjoyed the last business you will ever get from this girl raised on Delta. At least they're nice when they're delayed. Which is well, every Delta flight, but still. They'd have put me in a hotel. No one fly American ever.

God, ya sure lot of craziness to happen, and I kept blinking back tears in my sleep-deprived eyes. Thinking "'Be careful not to complain about anything, even the weather, since I am the Author of your circumstances. The best way to handle unwanted situations is to thank Me for them.' Satan, shove it. Just try to steal my joy. Just try."

Western Connecticut State University

Danbury, Conn.

Eta Omicron Chapter

So all this, on my last visit. Of what they say will be the hardest job I'll ever take. And after a day of meetings yesterday, I trudge back to the little dorm room I'm crashing in.

And see this:

This, accompanied with "You're almost done, Ashlyn!"

Dam broken. Flood gates opened. I bawled, literally, in front of the collegians.

Ha.

Oops.

Someone did that. For me. Someone went and printed off two pictures from my Facebook and put them in frames. No wait, not someone--my sisters did that. Joe Schmoe would tell me "I do not know" the girls I meet. I meet them for the first time in my life when I land. I'm usually gone in less than a week, and I may never see some of them again.

But when I tell them they shouldn't have:

"Ashlyn. Come on. 'I live for you.' It's no big deal. We're sisters."

I mean, how can a sorority consultant argue with her sorority's open motto?
Dangit. They got me on that.
So I laugh.

And sometimes cry.

They live for me.

"Greater love has no one that this,
to lay down one's life for one's friends."

John 15:13

I love it when God uses a Greek organization--what some people consider as the antithesis of Christ following--to bless me. Why. Do. We. Ever. Put. You. In. A. Box...

Green and blue.

Photo courtesy of Taylor Gunter, my incredible sister-friend.

Since August, I've boarded at least one plane roughly every 4-7 days. You got a question about flying right now? I'm your girl. And I have to watch bein' sassy at TSA. "Ma'am, you'll probably have to take off that bracelet for security." "No, it won't set it off. Promise." "Ma'am, I really think it will set it off."No really. It won't. Watch." HA--boom. Told ya so, sir.

There are some things I'm really going to miss about flying. Because you see, I do three things on planes:

1. Sleep. This girl can pass out on a plane.

2. Talk.

2. Stare out the window.

Travel Agent Kim always gets me a window seat. Literally, always. Which means I have free reign to hog the window. And stare. Which I do.

So when I listened to the Get Down, to Get Up sermon by Louie Giglio the other night, a grin spread across my face. Sometimes, I'm forehead-against-plexiglass, lost-in-my-thoughts, lost-in-praise. Staring at this gorgeous planet. And it's like no one else on the plane knows that God is talking to me, sharing with me in that sweet moment. Saying "I know right?! I made that. Yup, that too." And I'm quiet. In awe.

As we pass over snow-capped Rockies.

Canyons.

Great Lakes.

Patchwork plains.

All that green and blue.

"Meanwhile, the flight attendant is goin' up and down the row offering beverages and eight peanuts in a little foil wrapper. The guys behind me are in the telecommunications business. And they are prepping for their business meeting, and talking so loud that you can hear them over huge engines that are flying a plane. You know that guy? That you just wanna go 'Hello, this is not your office, bro. This is like, a community space.' And people are getting up and going to the bathroom... And I got a paper--don't care. An iPad? I could care less. I don't want peanuts or pretzels or a Sprite... I don't need to do anything because I've got about 59 minutes worth of majesty. And I can't stop lookin' at it.

"I just wanted to jump up and grab the microphone and give it a 'Hi, this is Louie. I'm not the flight attendant but I'm up here in uh, 1D and I'm not sure if you've noticed it or not, but there is literal awe and wonder going on on the right side of the airplane... Something out there will move your soul. Thank you very much.'"

I swear. I feel like that every week of my life.

But I realized today: I get so struck over one nation's landscape. Made by a Love who crafted the u-n-i-v-e-r-s-e. And it hit me, He doesn't need to show me His universe because this is my portion. Right now, at least. It's like how You don't feed me answers to everything I want to know tonight. It'd be too much for me. This moment? This is enough to capture my awe and words and breath.

He always knows what to supply me with. He loves us so...

Blog post title: "Green and Blue" by Benjy Davis Project. Two in a row, I know. Benj--you can cut me a check now. But I love them. And this is in my Top 10.

Quiet you with my love.

DISCLAIMER: Toldya the posts like this were gonna start rollin'. This goes out to everyone in my same-exact shoes who emailed/commented/Facebooked me to tell me they're, well, in my same-exact shoes.

Photo courtesy of Tumblr.

 

Last night, Mama, Daddy, and I were back-porch-sittin' last night in the warm night air while two bird dogs were catching lizards. Fantastic Stallings-evening entertainment, we know. Then they started asking questions about what I wanted to do "next year" (The parents. Not the dogs or lizards).

I put on my brave face. But really? In a word, I got scared.

A tad paralyzed.

With my own parents.

Because honestly? I do not know. There are no real leads. I'm not just saying that. I truly am not sure. If anything, my current job took this scattered, dream-big, never-say-never mind of mine and multiplied my journalism-major options. Greeeeaaat.

So I held it in. Until I was talking to a friend that I can never seem to "hold it in" with last night. And after being patient and letting me spout off like this friend always lets me do, he goes, "You know what, Ash? Psalms 56:3-4. 'When I am afraid I will trust in You, in God whose word I praise.'"

Fear = a trade-off opportunity for Trust.

Okay. So, easier said than done, but ok.

But God knows I'm the personality that wants a game plan. So when I pull Jesus Calling off my shelf at home this morning and let the pages fall to March 21, ha--first line: "Trust Me and don't be afraid, for I am your Strength and Song..." Cool, God. Cool. Love when He brings things full-circle. But you see, it goes further to say fear isn't just zero fun, it blocks the flow of God's strength. Of course it does...

It's like Noah (sorta). He built that ark. Why? Obedience to God. But remember: Boats weren't the "in" thing at that time. Especially barges like that. And rain? Yeah. Rain wasn't even invented. Until the flood, water came up to norish the earth through the ground. Now that's some fear (of rejection. Of failure. Of being called crazy.) traded for trust and faith. I want that brand of trust...

So I will relate to you in confident trust. Letting You know exactly how frusterated and nervous I am some days. Because You're my song. My reward awaits, and no good thing have You hidden from those who love you.

"I will quiet you with My love..."

Zeph. 3:17

Hush, child.

On taking the next step.

Photo courtesy of some Tumblr. Can't remember.

This is probs the first part in a 22-part series called Ashlyn Doesn't Know What She Is Doing After May. But--and I apologize for it's length--this below is how God swoops in and provides me my manna portion daily. How I know the next step is going to be okay. I just keep obeying Him. And it will be okay. He tells me so.

Whew. Deep Breath. Praise God.

Below, transcribed from "Zealous for One Thing," Church at Brook Hills. God through D. Platt says it better than my elementary verbage can. It's long, just go with it:

"...And as we obey his commands, he directs our steps. Paul had no idea what was coming that night. (I should maybe tell you we'd just read Acts 16:6-10.) He couldn't have organized. it. Planned it. Forseen it. He was OBEYING. And as he obeyed, God lead him. As a result, the Gospel for the first time would go into Europe, to most of our ancestors in this room. He couldn't have planned it. He was obeying and the Sprit led. Isn't that Proverbs 3:5-6?! 'Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, in all your ways--in your ways, as you're walking--acknowldge Him and he will make your paths straight--he will make. Them. Straight.'"

"God is not up in heaven trying to keep His will from you. Trying to make it difficult on you. He wants His will to be accomplished in your life, Christian, so much that he has put His Spirit inside of you! He's not even going to just give you directions; He's saying 'I'm going to LIVE in you. And I'm gonna change your thoughts and your desires. And I'm gonna drive your steps. You walk in Me, you abide in Me, and I will direct your steps.'"

(here's where it gets gooooood...)

Now it's not always the most direct route. God could've given Paul this visition a few nights before he started to go this direction. The Spirit somehow stopped it. He could've given him this vision from the beginning, he could've laid out his plans. Ever wish God would do that in your life? (Chyeah. Like, daily. I hate surprises.) Like, all those questions... But there are so many things not in His word for sure! Like, 'Who am I gonna marry?' Her name isn't in here. I mean, ha, it might be, but I dunno which one--there are a lot of names. 'And so what job do I take, where do I live? (Hello, my name is Ashlyn and this is the story of my current life.) What decision do I make here or here?' We're wrestling with these. But you don't have clarity in the Word on it."

"And you're thinking, 'Man. It'd be nice to have a little Macedonian vision, and aight--BOOM. There she is.' It'd save a lot of dating stress if you could just have a vision, right? So we WANT that. And the reality is, God could've given that, but He didn't. Maybe there's something deeper here than just instructions on where to get to. Maybe the destination is even deeper than Macedonia..."

"Maybe God Himself is the destination.

Maybe he's the goal--maybe more than the answer to our questions is."

My next job stint isn't. My next little appartment in the city isn't. Some guy isn't.
The Creator of the Universe wants me desperately to arrive at His feet.
Talk about love...

Romans eleven:sixteen.

Forget the wedding, I googled until I found the name of this baller tree in Ireland. It's at the Bellinter House. Pretty sweet, God. Photo courtesy of Cooper Carras.

If the root is holy, so are the branches.

- Romans 11:16

Love, actually.

Photo courtesy of The Hope Movement.

DISCLAIMER: I've been thinking. And I should probably be more vulnerable in life. Because I'm more the type to not show all my cards at once and try to be Little Miss Perfect. But after all, C.S. Lewis said to love at all is to be vulnerable, and he is in my Top 5 Favorite Humans Ever.

So here I go.

It's Valentines or whatever, and I pretty sure the going trend for bloggers is do something Valentines-y on your blog. But I'm not in love. Never have been. Don't really wanna be right now. So this is my post about love.

This story starts two summers ago, when I got a little rocked--slight rejection by a guy (okay. Whatever. Rejection.), an internship at a well-known magazine that I couldn't figure out why I hated, etc. In my "Ohmigosh-it's-FINE-I-totally-always-can-fix-everything" mindset, I kept trying to repair situations. Band-aid it. But nothing. Was. Working.

At church, David Platt announces a 4-part series on what else, love. Awesome. TotesmyfavoritesubjectthissummerNOT. But the Lord led us as a church through a book named Ruth. A chapter a week for a month. Step by step...

And after each sermon, my songbird girl-crush Mandi Mapes would sing over us a song she'd written to correspond with that chapter. Fast forward: Week 2. She climbs up on her stool, and the guitar starts this haunting, rolling tune. Held captive, I could feel God speak: "Ashlyn. Listen to me." Tears started falling (I don't cry much, but I cry 2/10 church services I go to, I think). Every lyric pierced me. And still does, because this weekend driving back from Birmingham, I blared it and there I was cryin' all over again in the left lane on I-65.

You see, the first time I heard the chorus, I was thinking of the earthly love story I was certain God had in store for me. As in, guy-meets-girl. Maybe it's going to be written, but my Father tells me if he doesn't want to write that, whoa baby--his plan is even better. But the second time it all clicked. No one's ever gonna love this weird, stubborn, impatient, flighty, joyful soul more than the One who loved it so much that he chose me before my feet lighted on planet earth.

"I already know Who's gonna save you,

I already wrote the end of the story.

You were made for Me and I'll never leave you.

And in the end, it's all for my glory."

- Mandi Mapes, "I Already Know"

Just trust me and go listen to the song, or series of songs, or even series of sermons. They're spectacular. Because how cool is it that our heart can be won by a poor man born a baby refugee in the rough-and-tumble Nazareen neighborhood, who wandered his entire life, was murdered to display His love for His people and ultimately to rise back to life. And they have proof. I mean, who does that? Why'd he do all that? Oh, you know. Just for His glory. Just to show His power over literally every single thing we think is strong in this world: Death. Sin. Nations. Rulers. Romantic love, if we're honest...

I don't have it all figured out. I write to get things off my chest and to sleep better and always freak out about pressing "Publish Post." So I'm not saying I remember all this every minute of my life because I don't. But I know it to be true. I know Him to be true.

So yeah, maybe I am in love.

And if every girl Taylor Swift jammin' girl wants her love story, I already got mine.

And it is sooooo good.

James one:twenty-two.

Photo courtesy of We Heart It.

This may be controversial to post? I dunno. But I read this line a few days ago in a book (thanks for the recommendation, Emi!). My heart skipped 2 beats. And for once, my mind was quiet. Whoa baby. This quote is literally haunting me because I've been working through this notion for a few weeks now:

"You guys are all into that born again thing, which is great. We do need to be born again, since Jesus said that to a guy named Nicodemus. But if you tell me I have to be born again to enter the kingdom of God, I can tell  you that you have to sell everything you have and give it to the poor, because Jesus said that to one guy too... But I guess that's why God invented highlighters, so we can highlight the parts we like and ignore the rest."

-Rich Mullins, by way of The Irresistable Revolution.

Revolt.

The absolute best spot to write a verse/word/Holy Name. Photo courtesy of Pure Belief.

"Many good things have been said far too many times

and just need to be lived."

- Shane Claiborne, "The Irresistable Revolution"

Mark thirteen:thirteen.

Photo courtesy of The Hope Movement.

Am I okay with that? Are we okay with that?

Because we should be. We're called to be, Christian.

And do we really want it any other way?

Cool how God editted dance from my life. For the sole reason to be able to actually dance in greater freedom. His freedom. Yeah. Speechless on that one. Praise be. Photo courtesy of Pure Belief.

"We are not presented with a functional god who will help us out of jams or an entertainment god who will lighten our tedious hours. We are presented with the God of exodus and Easter, the God of Sinai and Calvary. If we want to understand God, we must do it on his terms. If we want to see God the way he really is, we must look to the place of authority--to Scripture and to Jesus Christ.

"And do we really want it any other way? I don't think so. We would soon become contemptuous of a god whom we could figure out like a puzzle or learn to use like a tool. No, if God is worth our attention at all, he must be a God we can look up to--a God we must look up to... The moment we look up to God (and not over at him, or down on him) we are in the posture of servitude."

- Eugene Peterson, fun fact I just learned: he drafted The Message.

They will know us by our love.

Photo courtesy of Pure Belief.

Blog title: "By Our Love" by Christy Nockles

Risk.

Photo courtesy of I'm not sure.

Potential favorite C.S. Lewis quote ever:

(I need to read waaaay more first)

"To love at all is to be vulberable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully 'round with hobbies and little luxuries, avoid all entablements, lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken, it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."

Thanks, T. Gunter. Love you sister.