I feel that I have fallen out of time… into a place where every moment, every thing collides into one big moment of significance. And yet, each thing seems to have its own momentum and its own time separate from the whole. I am living the life of my dreams but shaken to the core by feelings of fear, inadequacy, and doubt. Not to mention I am physically unwell at the moment. Ugh.

I always felt that I was a warrior, a prophet… someone called to speak, write, fight. And yet when I first begin to step into that place I am overwhelmed by the fact that friends are backing away from me, that I am not liked for this. And that fighters… well, they fight. They go into battle.

I still feel fully that I am where I belong and am doing what I was born to do, but the weight of this is tough and I am lacking the strength even to slough it off into God’s hands. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned… I have taken the weight of the world onto my shoulders when it is not my weight to bear. But You did say… I will have my cross.

I feel strange, unable to know how to walk this line, this time without time and to carry only what I must and to dream without losing control. I do not want my selfish ambition to take over the dreams He has for me. And I do not want my fear to keep me back any longer.

This is a strange land we have wandered into…

Break, break
my glass heart in Your hands.
All these sharp edges
bleed Your fingers,
as they bear the weight
of my agony.
And my love.
You restore my soul.
You create newness from
nothing.
My heart, which breaks
and cuts Your skin
will be molded back together.
I will become
something new
as You breathe
over my pieces.
I am
regenerating
and bursting out
held in Your hands
now burning, not bleeding,
as I become
something new
out of dust.
It aches
this expanding
knowing I will
never be with You
the way I want to.
But trusting You will
send me my companion
for the journey
for whatever is to come
with my new heart.
Break, break.

I feel very strange. I’m not sure where I am.

It’s like… I dunno. I feel… disillusioned? Everything I felt certain of has just vanished. It’s all untouchable or un-graspable somehow. We’re one second out of sync with the universe and unsure how to cross over.

I am in the void and not in the void at the same time.

I’m a paradox and I don’t know where my feet are going or if they are even moving.

Am I in the TARDIS? Am I floating in space?

Am I still in the borderlands or did I, in spite of my loss with this BBC contest, somehow manage to cross into new territory without realising it?

Who am I? What is my destiny really? Am I really home? Or is this just another passing thing… and God will move me again just when I feel completely settled? Is my husband really coming? Will I ever accomplish my dreams? Am I really called to great things? Do I really speak? Can I really write? Do I matter?

Is it worth hoping?

I am a ghost, passing through… when will I be solid?

Emptiness was hard. But this? I don’t even know if am real right now.

What do I do?

“Drive me out to that open field
turn the ignition off and spin around
your help is here
but I’m off in this open space
unlocking the gates of love.
I am overcome
I am overcome
Holy water in my lungs

I am overcome.”

I got a package in the mail today from my brother. Inside was a book called “The Heart of the Artist” about artists and ministry and character. Wow. Such good timing. I cried when I started to read it. I’m so tired…

Lord, help. I need real rest and peace and to really fall back into You in a way that is deep and true and inescapably beautiful and joyful. I want to disappear into You and come out new. I want You to carry me in Your arms to a sacred space for just You and me where we’ll create just by breathing without words, without time, without limit, without stress or worry.

This morning I sat on my floor and went through the Celtic morning office, which I haven’t done for a while and went through a meditation exercise that, again, I haven’t done in a while.

I was reflecting/reading about God’s wisdom. And He took me to this picture of walking down a straight path through a thick foggy, but sunny day. And I kept asking “where are we going? Lord?” And He joined me, came in right behind me and wrapped himself around me so tightly that our walking became a bit awkward, but steady. He told me to keep going. And I could feel Him tightly holding onto me as we walked through my unknowing. And then I turned around, cos I wanted to look at Him. I kissed Him and my body gave out. I lost the strength to stand. And He picked me up in His arms and kept moving me forward through the fog.

My heart is overwhelmed. It is full and bursting. I go from moments of stress and anger-balls and frustration, and wanting to run up Arthur’s seat and scream to praising God, dancing by candlelight and weeping tears from the depths of me or spreading out face down and just crying and aching and desiring to the point of undoing.

It hurts so much, this. I let go and I become numb sometimes. I embrace and scream or weep… or just become a workaholic. And then I stop and I breathe and I see the sun rising and the blue sky and I… hope. I hope wildly, boldy, and with confidence. Thus continues the circle.

I wouldn’t want less than this, I only want more. But this is HARD. Trusting, believing even when I want to doubt. Knowing within me that He loves me deeply and has good plans, that it IS my time. Even if I don’t know how time will pan out, how things will come together or exactly when.

I find it hard to deal with other people’s troubles right now. I want to be there, but all I feel is… AHHHHH!!!! But I need people around me. And I need hugs!

Because I am in between. I am over-stimulated. I am transitioning. I am becoming and I’ve already become. I am in between time. I am standing still, in a moment of utter bliss married to absolute terror. I am in no time, and in every time. I feel everything and it hurts. But I am thankful for this. I just… am very aware of myself as a spirit within a body right now. Trapped and free simultaneously. Paradox.

I want to go to London. I want to do this residential and learn and grow and meet people. I want to succeed and make this film. I want to see my TV pilot become a series. I want to create ripples that go ’round the world. Ripples through words and television and my own voice. I want to enter into that now. And the wanting, the desiring is almost unbearable. My soul is bursting and cracking. My spirit is coming undone, or winding up so tight it needs to scream just to breathe.

Keep running, run through the pain. Keep running for the prize.

Oh, it hurts!

Yes. It does. Keep running.

I completed my script and sent it off. It got there ridiculously fast. And now I wait. I wait for a week and a few days to find out whether I am going to London for 30 June.

I feel numb, or just baffled. Like feeling is too much right now so I am just kinda half feeling and wobbling to and fro in the inbetween-lands wondering if I am going to transition sooner than I think into that land of hope fulfilled… or whether I will stay here a while longer leaning only on trust for those dreams. But the scary thing is more that I will succeed. What does success feel like? What does it feel like to be fulfilled in that kind of deep dream?

I don’t know. I will know soon…

Working on this script has been… intense. Humbling. Worship. I’ve never experienced Jesus so close to me when writing before. But I can feel Him in this, in every sentence and word. In the story and the mystery. In the character’s questions and arcs. Wow.

I am feeling very strange lately because something new has opened up before me. I feel like I am walking in the middle of two worlds, in a no-man’s land. Walking and teetering this way and that way, touched by both but in neither.

I am aware of such hope and such terrifying potential and such doubt because of all that has come before…

But He said the era of failure is over and that hope will not be deferred any longer. And that we are in a time of fruit (think orchards)… and that time will not go back anymore. Only forward.

That’s what scares me. I have no idea what is coming, well no idea HOW it will come.

My heart aches to be in the BBC (TV). To be God’s witness there. To write stories that send ripples across the UK and the world because they are so full of God’s truth. To speak to actors and directors and fellow writers, etc and let God use me to awaken their hearts to His outrageous love for them.

It hurts. Hope hurts.

8 days to go. I have completed three drafts of my script for the BBC Sharps contest. I am really, really encouraged by this whole process. With how quickly the story has come to me and what an incredible act of… worship it has been, involving God in the process.

Jesus is a great writer. In fact, He is the Word.

I think I am beginning to understand that.

I will send off my script to BBC Writer’s Room in a week. Then… we wait.

This is mad. I am so hopeful I might explode.

I had this thought last night, about how everything is connected… or rather, everything eventually connects. Everything about who I am and how I am is part of this journey that I have been on since conception. And it’s like that with everyone. I’m not talking about the negative influences or badness here. I’m talking about the good, true things about who we are. The stuff that when we were kids was untarnished and then… got interrupted and off kilter with time and disappointment and deferral of dreams, and… misinterpretations of who we are. (I was wrong about who I was. I was absolutely wrong. I am so much more.)

What if who we were when we were tiny is who we really are and all the stuff in the middle is nonsense? Sometimes, I think that is the very key to everything, to happiness and to really becoming yourself. Look back not forward. Remember that sense of adventure, the hope, the dreams the feelings that you could do anything? Grab that, embrace it, weave it in. Then look forward with all of that fuel. You can’t help but fly.

After reconciling with little me, I am seeing such healing… healing in ways I can’t describe. Now, thankfully, my femininity is being restored to me. And I am growing into the kind of woman I’ve thought other people could be but not me.

What if I really succeed? What will it be like WHEN I succeed? When I reach my dream? Who will I be?

I will be myself. The 5 year old and the adult, running in circles in the meadows, laughing and dreaming boldly about love, and about all those impossible things which are really possible.