I am sitting at a table with my coffee cup and mountains of library books with boring covers.  I am not alone though.  There are two blondies with me drinking sippy cups of milk and throwing peas at each other.

And I'm okay with that.  Let the peas fly children.

This weekend is foggy.  I went for a drive and got lost in the fields of Nebraska.  I took my sweatshirt off and rolled my shorts up.  Bare feet on pedals, bare skin against the wind.  I wanted out of my body.

I ended at Skye's house.  She is having a baby and her living room is filled with plastic tubs and blankets and tiny blue clothes.  I paced and fidgeted until she started looking up hotel rooms.  Tasha we need to get out of this city for a night, let's just go.  It made me feel better for ten minutes.

And then I remembered my papers.  And my social obligations.  And my job.

So we spent the night out in our favorite places.  She tried to get me to change.  To put on a dress or a cute shirt or something.  But there was no part of me that wanted to look good.  Tonight, I'm owning sloppy.  Relishing it.  Loving it.  I might live in this sweatshirt forever.  And who knew running shorts weren't just for running.

Tasha, what's wrong with you.  I haven't seen you like this in a while.

Here's the thing.  My sister tells me that I make people out to be better than they are.  She says it's a problem I have.  They're never as funny or as sweet or as pretty as she thinks they're going to be when she finally meets them.  But I can't help it.  I am head over heels in love with humanity. 

And that means that our failures cut deep inside of me.  I can not imagine the pain of Christ.

I don't think it's any one thing that has happened, any one conversation.  But I have moved past tired.  I'm getting to angry now and that's not good for my soul.  I'm over wanting to shake them, I want to push, to shove.  I can't watch any more.

So here is all I know to do.  I am going to let Him grow me more.  I'm going to strengthen my resolve. Take children's hands, believe in the good of tomorrow.

I am only me.  And life is leaving me ragged right now.  

I am recognizing my great need for Him.

To every girl I want to shout, listen.  You were made to be lovely and admirable.  Don't you see how stunning your soul is?  Don't you feel it inside of you, the desperation to live well?  And boys, be men of honor.  Men who want more than the night.  Men who don't cheat love by living with cheap actions and who know how to stand up.

I can't expect anything less.  Because I believe this with all of my heart, that He makes only great things  And that behind every human is a divine, intentional purpose.  And with Him it is so easy to see, so glaringly obvious.  How beautiful we are.  How great we could be.

How alive.

He is the only answer to our wounds.  And He is always enough.

That is why today I can not bear to be covered.  Why I can not hold still.

And why tonight I do not want to be put together pretty.  Tonight I am a mess of life on the outside.  And I am okay with that on the inside.