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This was supposed to be a post about life lately and the shit I've been buying to fill a longing that I don't quite understand. But it's not.
I will be moving blogs soon. I think it's time to start a new journey and God is stirring new longings in my heart that I want to pursue - things like online marketing classes and/or HTML courses and a complete renovation of both Taylor Paper and my saddened, hardened heart.
It's difficult explaining the hurt I've been carrying in my soul the last couple of months, and even more difficult explaining them to the people in my life that I love. The hurt is from no one person in particular, but a circulation of experiences that I've either brought upon myself or that have resurfaced.

God fights for us. Every day. I know without a shadow of a doubt that He does. I feel it in the deepest parts of my heart.
But I run.
I thought that I had finally finished running; that Charleston had cured me of my wrecked and rowdy ways and that this time in Augusta was going to be fine. Trust me, it has been a much much better transition and experience than I ever anticipated. And I know I talk about then and now so much, but it's just because then was not that long ago and now seems so far away sometimes that I live in that old room on my darkest nights. But, still, I find myself running from time to time.

But God has a plan and He knew that I would feel this way before He ever placed me onto this Earth. He knew I would be so frustrated and overwhelmed with self-hate. He knew that I would leave gatherings with people crying more times than not because I felt so big and yet so small in so many ways. He knew that I would push Him away because I knew that what I was doing was wrong, what I was feeling was wrong, what I was seeing was wrong, and I didn't even care enough to repent because I didn't feel guilty and I would do it again if I felt like it.

And, yet, He still loves me. Yet, He still pursues me every day. Yet, He believes in me and cares for me, and  is all I'll need; my portion and provider.

Yet.



My summer slogan for this stage in my life is, "Life is Weird." That's because it is. it's all those things that Taylor Swift sings about in "22", and I feel like it never gets any less weird. It's weird because no one knows anything about doing life. We all pretty much just wing it. That's both incredibly relieving and terrifying.
But now, I'm ready to stop begin such a bitch to myself, and get to winging. I spend so much of my life trying to make people understand why I feel a certain way, or why I have a big ankle, or how I'm not a hipster just because I like vinyl. I want to stop caring so much about unimportant things and start caring even more about the big important things: like my very best friends that carry pieces of my heart with them, designing pretty things that people love, hugging all the humans, and pushing my selfishness away and letting God in because this entire summer has proven that I can't do it alone.

Just let the chips fall where they may, let the chips fall. That's really all we can do.