books i probably won't read & their inspiration

i've been having many a late night therapy session with my friend who is pretty darn heart broken. i feel like God is using my story in some really specific and creative ways now. it's amazing. but it's also caused a lot of revisiting a part of my years that were really sad (for lack of a better word). besides using phrases like, "i'm happy now!" and "i'm glad that happened!",  i have a hard time describing to someone how profoundly grateful i am for that pain and ultimately, for being dumped.

then i was walking down prince street the other day and passed one of my favorite book stores (mcnally jackson). as always, i stopped to peer at the multiple book displays they have and this one stuck out to me. what an awesome title. this is the state of my heart.

i remember moving into my second apartment in the city; i felt like it was where i belonged and i knew i would stay put for a while here (i'm running on almost eighteen months in the same apartment - that's pretty good for an abare!) my friends and family helped so much, but at the end of the night i sat on a box and looked around at all the empty rooms and felt so... weird. what was i doing? why didn't this place feel like home? why was there such a mess everywhere? how long until all my boxes were unpacked and furniture arranged? then, how long until i felt like this is where i lived and loved? my brother kept saying - "it will feel like home! you just need to live in it. have experiences, see your stuff..."

now, my home is one of my favorite places in the world. i think of all the laughter and tears and visitors and family members and games and stories and music and stuff that makes up more than just the space between the walls, but the spirit of the environment. it's "broke-in".

like my heart. it was broken, now it's just broke-in. i'm able to love better, see clearer, listen good-er, resist & share more-er, and give everything (that i'm still learning, and hopefully always will be).

so unpack those boxes. see your stuff being sat on/eaten from/made fun of by people you love or will someday love. get broke-in. don't be so afraid of someone crushing your delicates. they're stronger than you think, and soon your brokenness will be an old friend that you've learned a lot from. like the elderly neighbor who gardens and whispers words of wisdom under his breath while staying a nice part of your background. just keep in mind: he's the background.