To be honest, I’ve been trying to write this blog for a while, and can’t seem to find words to write it.

W R I T E R ‘ S B L O C K.

I don’t think it’s because I don’t have words, I think it’s because I’m in a process of learning to actually BELIEVE the words. But I felt like Jesus told me to write about it today, so I am. Sorry if it’s rambley or shambley (two words I don’t think are real), or if it doesn’t make much sense… I’m working on it, okay? Let’s just walk through this together.

I woke up this morning and Jesus, very clearly, told me to do what I wanted to do today. Which is actually pretty funny, because for the last 6-7 months, I haven’t been able to pinpoint a sliver of what I would prefer “to do.” So, I did what I used to enjoy doing..I sat at a quiet coffee shop in my hometown called “Fresh.”

Got to the counter. Had not a clue what I wanted to drink.
“Cait, what did you used to like?” I asked myself. My answer, chai tea latte with vanilla.

I sat in the coziest chair I could find and unpacked my books, Bible, journal, colored pens, and headphones. Then it hit me. Like a ton of bricks or an elephant on an air plane, the urge to just weep came over me. But I couldn’t weep, I was in public. So tears streamed down my face in the most graceful way I knew how. Again, I was at a loss. Although random tears in random places are more common to me than uncommon the last few months, these tears carried some weight. So I started chatting it up with my main man, Jesus.

It was there, in Fresh, sipping on my chai tea latte with ┬ávanilla, cuddled up in the white rocking chair, that I unloaded what my heart has been holding onto for months. I’m not so sure why it happened today, but Jesus does. I think today was the first day that I was able to feel the pain and choose joy, choose celebration.

After about an hour and a half of spilling my guts to Jesus (discussing my future husband, my current diet, my upcoming trip to Greece, my discontentment, my disappointment, and my desire to be able to celebrate people fully, even in the midst of my pain), I did something that I’ve been terrified to do for a while: I let Jesus talk.

It was there, with my chai tea latte with vanilla, in the white rocking chair that I felt Jesus whisper:

“There’s room for you.”

I wasn’t so sure what it meant, so I sat and waited. Soaking in the truth that there’s room for me. Where? Not sure. Jesus, faithfully, continued.

“There’s room for you to be fully you, to laugh really loud, to cry deeply, to be where you are, how you are. I paid for your spot, I made it big enough. The boundary lines have fallen for you in pleasant places.”

It was in that moment that I realized I was carrying the weight of pain, disappointment, and discontentedness because I didn’t believe that there was room for me in Jesus’ heart. In my pride, I thought I was making room for others to be healed by not letting go of my garbage. How prideful. Jesus makes the room. He makes my friends hearts big enough to listen to me and to cry with me. He makes my family’s home big enough to house me for free. He makes my time long enough to get healed. He makes his love big enough to make me whole.

Jesus then said: “Go buy you some flowers. We are celebrating YOU, today.”

So just like that… my day of “do what you want” turned into “do what you want because I want you to feel seen and celebrated.”

He’s really good, y’all. He knows our hearts better than we do. And by golly, if Jesus tells you to buy yourself pink daisies, buy the daisies. There’s probably a part of your heart that needs it.

My heart needed to grieve and be seen, today. So obviously, I celebrated. ­čÖé


Daisies from God.

Yesterday I got daisies from God. No, they weren’t shot down from the sky in some majestical manner; I got them from my local chickfila. You see, my chickfila in my hometown has these little vases with two to three cute little daisies on every single table. (Sidenote: I’m obsessed with daisies). Anyways, I saw these daisies in two big cups yesterday and come to find out–they were the extra ones! So as I dreamt of having these daisies, a friend of mine opened his mouth and asked for them. End of the story: I got the daisies. Two GIANT cups full of daisies. I really believe that God gave me them. He is such a faithful pursuer. Even at the end of an emotionally draining day, God still was woo-ing my tired heart.

Let me back up a bit. The last week has been a learning curve ball from God. How so?, one might ask. I’ll explain. I’ve been really struggling with trusting the goodness of God in my life and with receiving love from God over the last 2-3 weeks. My life has been in this whirlwind of transition, change, and loss throughout the whole summer. As I have watched everyone around me seemingly “move forward” I have been in this place of feeling “stuck” and “at a loss for words” when it comes to my relationship with God and the people closest to me. I feel like I am being left behind and that in the process of being left behind I am losing control of every aspect of my life. Who needs control, right? I’m learning that I don’t want nor need control at all. But that is another story time for another day. What I am learning is how to be content with being loved by God. You see, I have really struggled with believing how outrageously I am loved by God because the circumstances in my life seemingly don’t reflect an outrageous love at all. So I’ve sat in this rut of being rejected by people, feeling like a 3rd wheel, and awkward turtle-ing it through the last 2 weeks…all because MY dumb, fleshly view of my circumstances doesn’t reflect what I think outrageous love looks like. Woe to my fickle heart. PRAISE GOD for the way he so gently speaks truth.

Back to yesterday, with the daisies. After chickfila I met with a friend and after that drove home…on the drive home I wept, because yesterday just didn’t go the way I had planned. I was emotionally done. I didn’t want to process anything, I didn’t want to talk about anything, I just wanted to sleep. As I complained to God on the way home, this was his response; “Since when did me being the pursuer of your heart stop being enough?”┬áImmediately, I stopped complaining and realized that those daisies weren’t just extra daisies–they were a kind way for Jesus to steal another piece of my heart, for him to show me that even on the days that don’t go the way that I had planned them to go┬áthat he is still absolutely crazy about me. Daisies. God gave me daisies. He didn’t just give me a few…he gave me a TON! God sought me out and in my pouting showed me outrageous love. Yesterday I started learning that sometimes the kindest, most gracious thing God can do for us is to let our best laid plans fall apart. Even though that is hard to chew on…even though it hurts, I will trust God…He got me daisies for crying out loud. He gave his son for me….and then went to chickfila ahead of me and GAVE ME DAISIES. If that isn’t a radical pursuer…I don’t know what is! Man oh man. I’m choosing Jesus today. Even though its hard, even though it hurts…all because on a bad day, He loved me outrageously.