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I used to dream in the dark
listless breaths and long cobwebbed corridors
where moths flickered aimlessly
waiting to die
and screaming for more.
I used to dream in the dark.

Now I dream in the day
bright eyes sparkling with possibility
staring out over wide horizons
and wondering, blinking and dreaming
in gasping breaths of expectation.
Now I dream in the day.

I carry the burden of hope
like love unfulfilled, beating in my chest
painful, but alive, waiting to break forth
screaming and cold like a newborn child,
a miracle formed in the depths.

I’ve been going through old writings and poems, compiling them for a book project I’m working on. And one thing I have been realizing/reminded of is how truly, seriously, honestly trustworthy God is.

And how the impossible things in life seem to be the things that are actually the best. Because they are actually possible.

Everything is going to be okay. I will find a flat of my own to live in. I will be provided for. And my desires will come forth in a tree of life!

Yesterday, while walking down Leith Walk (after seeing a lovely film called “Penelope”), I couldn’t help smiling. I felt loved, free, happy and inspired. Cos of a film. Cos of a film that spoke to me.

And you know… I really love when that happens. When little blessings are huge blessings cos they surprise you. I love that.

What I don’t love is when little negative things become big things that kick you into the dirt. It seems so hard to clean that off and go on. It’s still a bit tough going for me right now. I’m having to fight in a way I don’t like to fight cos these lies are wanting to devour.

But I am rising above. I am defeating them.

I think one of the hardest things for an artist, or perhaps anyone, to realize is that you can be brilliant without ever achieving anything. You can be fantastic at something even if you haven’t gotten ‘there’ yet.

That’s hard for me. It’s hard to have faith in myself anyway, but without what often feels like proof of my abilities, I feel… maybe my gifts aren’t really gifts but just illusions of gifts.

But that’s a lie.

I am a writer. I’m a good writer. And I’m young. Most of my favourite writers are in their 40s and 50s. I have time. I will reach my potential.

And the liars and just liars. They will be crushed.

Dream darling, dream… and persevere. The potential is actually actual. It just needs to come to fruition. So go. Keep going.

Do not give up.

I officially got prayed in to the YWAM Edinburgh team today during our base meeting. Feels good. It was a great meeting, and I somehow managed to sum up my time in DTS in an apparently mostly coherent manner. Not quite sure what all I said, but people seemed to be pleased with it. So that’s good

Did some praying re: finances and projects today (and also just more settling into Edinburgh stuff) and am getting really excited about a couple of projects in particular. Won’t go into details yet, but you’ll hear more eventually.

In general I have to say that I am totally happy and excited about this life I get to live!

And I am gonna keep fighting the fight and writing the write and working hard to do all of that to the best of my ability and beyond. Thank God for adventure and wonders and change and all that good stuff. I am so ridiculously hopeful, it’s nuts!

Still wondering about finances and where I should live (whose flat/where, etc…) and seeking wisdom and direction on that. So please keep praying.

I really believe all shall be well somehow.

Writing. It is a plague. Sometimes. Haha.

Sometimes it is a wonder.

We just watched Shakespeare in Love, some of the girls and I. Aside from being sappy and over-sexed at times, the writer stuff made me smile. I love Shakespeare because he’s so dramatic and brilliant and silly. So it inspired me.

Not that I think I will ever be a Shakespeare (and I am okay with that), but with the idea that writers must write. Because words are powerful and important.

I have this script, it’s been bugging me so much because there’s so much good possibility, good characters, etc… but it’s not quite working. And I’ve been going mad. But today I realized it doesn’t matter. If this script never works (I’m sure it will, but that’s besides the point), I’ll be okay. I’ll still be a writer and my words will still matter because God has told me to write. And therefore there is power, and purpose.

So I will keep writing and keep working with God to tell the kinds of stories and words that matter and communicate and change lives.

This is really living, isn’t it? Faith. Perseverance. Striving for good even when it seems difficult or impossible. Sometimes I hate being human.

Right now I love it!