untitled

i always wanted to be a writer

a musician

a artist

someone who loves the skin that hugs their bones so comfortably

someone who just plain and simple loved their self

but when i tried to make myself into the things that i was not

tidy

on-time

emotionally detached and unable to feel hurt

i became something i was not

pretending to be tidy made my mind a mess

trying to be fifteen minutes early everywhere made me stay home

and denying myself the ability to process made me

n u m b. 

in this search of myself

what should be a pursuit of joy

i had merely just organized chaos and shoved it in my heart

and boy does it hurt when it explodes...

but

when i let go of myself

when i bury the control that i want to keep

i became free to write a poem about the sky

sing a silly song about the trees

and smell the paint stained on my old t-shirt

and suddenly it's not about what i can do

but it becomes about how beautiful it is that there are things i cannot do

because after all this time,

i am not defined by what i have the ability to do or become

i am defined by love that is so graciously given to me

that my friends

is what it means to be f ree

-jr

the thief

what a shame it is, i thought to myself

as i watched other people die out

the passion that they had, now gone

because comparison came and ate their flame

had they only seen what i saw in them, i said

they were almost there, they almost saw the end

until they saw the people who were already there

the people who already peaked

the people who had their dreams in their hands

but your dream was so close, you were right on the verge

you could not see it

but i could

still you let it die

along with your heart

your passion, dreams, and victory, you let them all part

how could you do this? i said again

are you just going to let the enemy win?

but while i was watching you, rise then fall from your dreams

i forgot about myself while comparing to you

and

i let go of my thoughts

i let go of my dreams

i unraveled at the seams

i 've forgotten how to be me

simple smiles

guilty 

guilty of coveting the girl on my media 

her hair, her clothes, her smile

her quirky little captions and the places she goes

i throw myself into her cute shoes

pretend that her friends are mine and wonder what it'd be like to be her

to live a day in her seemingly picture perfect world

...

but then i wonder

how many girls

look at me

and say the same things?

do we have an unending circle

of wanting to be each other?

what if we learned to love our own lives?

the off-camera moments of

the loud car rides

the undocumented laughter and love

do we take those moments for granted

just because they're not cropped and edited?

we plaster ourselves with a 'melancholy' label

because we didn't go see that band

or capture the right angle

but the truth is: life is messy

your life deserves to be enjoyed

not filtered

take pictures

but take them of sunsets going 80 down the freeway

of yourself, laughing over a stupid joke

 of your friends and your family

so what if your life is simple?

it's simply beautiful

no one except you gets to experience your life

so turn off the screen

and smile a little wider

cut loose and dance

but most importantly

don't forget that you are the only you

and no one can take you away

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just some thoughts i've had on my mind! love you all! <3

-jacyrayn

he holds me

i woke up with voices in my head

telling me to go back to sleep

telling me i wasn't worth the fight

telling me i was falling to pieces

'you're never going to be any better than you are now' they said

'you're too far gone for Him to make anything out of you' they said 

but when i figured out 

that they were just voices in my head 

i heard you said 

'i have you in the palms of My hands' 

catch your breath

"And then through darkness, there came a light" 

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Sometimes it's not certain place that break through happens. It doesn't have to be a church, a concert, or in a room full of people. 

Sometimes you're all alone. 

You've poured your heart out over and over again in the creases of the worn notebook and it's off-white paper; but you pick up the pen with the faded ink anyway, and you continue to write until your hand is numb. You cry out. 

And then, you're heard. 

It's not an 3-minute instant microwave miracle, but rather, a moment of peace. 

You feel like you've come out on top of the waves for a solid minute and you can catch your breathe. 

The storm isn't over and the waters are still raging but just that moment of peace, the one that comes the second you decide to wholly devote yourself to the Way-Maker, the Calmer of storms, can give you the strength you need to pick up and carry on. 

To conquer the waves you must first learn to stop fighting and let God fight. Let yourself go in over your head. 

When you war with your own strength, you're destined to fail and choke. 

When you open up your fists, the ones that have been closed for so long you've forgotten what it feels like to be free, then it happens. 

You learn to let go. 

You learn to ride the waves, instead of trying to control them. 

My friends I am speaking to myself but also speaking to you. 

Open up your hands to the God of love, the God of peace, and the God who has plans for you. 

The storm may pick back up, but catch you breath and let go. For you only have each passing moment to make this life beautiful. It's too short to live with gritted-teeth and clenched-fists. 

Open up your heart, and find peace. 

I'm still sitting in my bedroom alone. 

I haven't had a grand revelation on how to solve my problems and conquer the doubt and fear, but I opened up my hands, and I let the worry go. 

The whole world doesn't know I caught my breath, and I definitely don't have it all together now. 

But this I know to be true, is that my God loves me, and He loves you. He wants good for me and everyone else. Hold fast to that.   

Let all you do be done in love,

jacyrayn

A TURNING PAGE

                                        A TURNING PAGE

A new chapter of a new book.

The hardback cover hit the musty smelling pages with a slam; the good book, the amazing story of the time I lived Kentucky and its adventures, was over. 

It was a sweet one, it truly was. I grew up as a person and spiritually. I met so many people who welcomed me in as family and taught me that there is still goodness in the hearts of strangers, and the strangers turned into friends, who will be in my life for a very long time. I danced my heart out and sang too loud on the road trips and laughed endlessly.

But, with life, everything changes eventually. If there was no change, how could we ever grow and learn to make more room in our heart for more love, new things, and new people? 

But the turning page, the opening of a new book, fails to be simple. I'm not going to lie for one second and say it is. 

You know the feeling, when you get a new book and the binding on it is stiff, and you have to hold it forcefully open because it's new and rigid? 

That's what it's like: opening a new chapter of life. 

It's tough. 

Its hard to keep open and it doesn't fit quite right in your hands yet.  You're unfamiliar with the cover and the pages tend to stick together.  

All together, it just feels unnatural. 

Nevertheless, I think in the situations we're most uncomfortable in, it's pushing us out of our comfort box into the world that makes us try new things and open up to new people. We have new adventures and we learn to close our eyes and simply just jump into life! 

Suddenly, once you get past a couple chapters into the new book, it gets really interesting- and then you can't put it down because it's so good! You get so caught up in this amazing new world that you realize you love the book, your life, and then binding starts to feel loose and no longer feels heavy and awkward;

it feels right,

and that's how this new life is going to be. 

I want to get so love with my life, so in love with story that I'm living that God is writing, that I can live freely without stress and worry. I want to have open, blank pages that can be filled with love and laughter instead of trying to live in the old book and keep the new one shut. 

Not all endings are bad. They leave opportunities for new starts. While beginnings can be scary, you can choose to dive into them holding grace and look for the best, or you can be afraid and then realize beginnings aren't bad. I haven't reached the point where I'm in love with the new stories to be written, but I'm willing to push through the stiff binding and untouched pages for a radical ending.

Life is unpredictable, but you know an Author who writes stellar stories that always have spectacular endings.

I bet yours is going to be beautiful.

* * * * * * 

2017 is going to be an amazing year, loves! You are a world changer and a planet shaker, the earth is at your fingertips. :) 

P.S. I promise I'm not dead! I took a little break over the holidays because I moved to a new state and to let my brain and heart rest! Expect me back at it! 

How were your holidays!? I missed you guys! 

With love, 

-JacyRayn 

unplanned roads

To sit here and type out the words "I'm great!" in a tiny chat box and hit the blue arrow to make you think I was just dandy would be just as much as a lie as to say I'm a millionaire. 

To tell you my life was more clear than than crystal and I know exactly what I'm doing would cause me to be a very bad liar. 

The truth is my dear readers:

My life is completely and utterly foggy. 

There's nothing terribly wrong with me, I'm not going through a life crisis. I have a wonderful family and friends, I'm getting ready to embark on a new adventure (moving!) and God is still my king.

But honestly, I can't see one day in front of today. 

I can't see myself tomorrow, acing my science test. 

I can't see myself a week from now, perfectly preforming my dance routine

I can't see myself a month from now, packing my life into brown paper boxes

I can't see my self in the next years, growing older and chasing dreams my dreams.

I try to fathom it and it seem so far away that I can hardly handle thinking about the next five minutes, and I get afraid that worried so much about the future that I am slowly tick-ticking away my present. 

My dears I think as we grow older we come to a point in time where we feel the pressure pushing hard on us from our family, friends, and society that we have to have a "5 year plan of success" after high school and we have to know where we're going to be. They expect us to have a map of our life and to know just exactly what we'll be doing. 

We get so caught with pushing ourselves further and further forward and planning the next moments that we forgot to cherish the journey here. We forgot that our own plans could turn upside down in a single moment.

"Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit'- yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” -James 14:13-15 ESV

I'm not saying don't have dreams and don't chase them. I'm not saying don't plan a little bit. Our lives would be even more a disaster if we didn't plan for daily life. But instead of planning for the life you're going to live when you reach your goal,and spending your life planning the next moments, live your life now, and on the journey to where you're going! Live in the current moments instead of trying to control what happens next.

---

 Today may be the very last day you ever draw a breathe. 

Did you take the time to tell everyone that you loved them and did you enjoy the simplistic moments?

Did you take even a moment to acknowledge that your Creator, who is so in love with you, wants to be by your side every minute of every hour and created all the earths and the heavens simply for you to exist and see the splendor of them out of his love? 

Did you see the moments and live in them as they passed you by? Or did you let them go holding on to a moment that has yet to exists?

I am trying to learn to live more simply, and stop worrying about my days and count my breath each as a blessing. 

Live in the moments around and see the beauty god has hidden for you to find. There is great love all around you, and blessing for those who look for them. 

'How rare, and beautiful, it is to even exist'

See the love my friends, and grasp it,

-JacyRayn

fighting our battles

{P.S. I'm not dead!}

There I was: ice cream pouring down my hand in what felt like slow motion as my eyes were glued to the screen in my mom's typical white mini van. I was captivated by Narnia, the movie I had seen a thousand times over but this time, held meaning for me. This time, I saw something I had never seen before, and the tears were unknowingly rolling down my face.

Peter, the eldest boy of the Pevensie family, heard wolves. 

Aslan and His men were standing right beside Peter the whole time, and Peter had just been taught that he needed to fight with his new found courage.

So then, the wolves came.

Peter quickly rushed into the woods, the army right behind him, sword drawn and ready for battle.  As he goes to fight, Aslan does something incredible. He holds back His army and says "keep your weapons, this is Peter's battle."

The king and his army were right there, watching His every move. Aslan had even put down one of the wolves for him, but still He held back and let him fight his own battle to learn a lesson.

Now that I've rambled on about Narnia, what does this mean? 

I saw the movie when I watched the scene, but at the same time, I saw me.

I was looking face to face with my own life. 

I'm sitting there holding my sword looking at my life battles and trying to fight them, but sometimes I falter. Sometimes I get overwhelmed; my sword feels heavy and my feet are tired and I don't feel like I can quite push on. I feel alone in my constant struggles and battles. It feels like wolves, my struggles, just might overcome me. I feel like one misstep and I will lose, the wolf will win, and I'll be lost. 

But what I don't see, is my mighty lion of Judah, King Jesus, standing right behind me with an army of angels watching out for me. Even typing those words brings so much hope to my bones. 

The fact that there is a God who is right there all the time, waiting to fight for me anytime the battle gets to hot is so relieving.

In that though I have to trust through the hard times. I have to realize that a rough patch could be God letting me fend for myself do that I can grow stronger and keep in touch with my faith! 

Hold that close to your heart, dears.

Your Creator is there ready to fight your every battle when you can't seem to move on.

When you can't seem to hold on, He'll pick up and fight for you.

When you feel like you're falling apart, He will hold you together.

I love you guys.

-jacyrayn xo

seasons of change

change, changing, changed.

A junior in high school and those three simple words in different forms still seem foreign.

They crawl around the back of my mind, pulling on the what ifs. 

I push off the thoughts and cling to what I know, but I know that the change, the impact, is coming for me. 

"I don't want to move to Georgia"

"I don't want to quit dance"

"I'm not ready to grow up and have relationships"

"I don't want to leave my friends"

All this change, these possible life moments and unknowns looming around my conscious.

When did I tie my own wings to the ground and say I wasn't allowed to fly further than the leash I put around my own neck?

Fearful of the grass I can't see because I limited myself to a four by four patch.

I put up a wall around my heart, my 'comfort zone' wall. It's filled with the same places, faces, and smells. It hardly ever changes and if there's a bump, I jump over it and keep going.

When I reach the wall I silently note, 'no need to go further, JacyRayn, you are doing just fine right here'.

So I don't.

I stay right there in the same place around the same people in the same places.

---

What I never noted though, was with this exile of change in my life, my heart grows cold and numb. It can no longer help the new people who need the warmth and love of Jesus to fill their holes to the very brim. The wall does not allow for me to overflow on to bare soil and wait for the new to grow.

When you limit yourself to the same grass, it stops growing eventually, and withers.

"There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:
    a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
    a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
    a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
    a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
    a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
    a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
    a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. "  

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8;11

There's a reason that the farmer moves his cows and horses from one field to another.

It's not because he wants them to be shocked by the change of atmosphere or because he just feels that they got too comfortable in the other one; it's because he's taking care of them and wants them to be well fed. He cares about their well being! 

God does not bring change out of hate or 'because He feels like it', He does it out of love, my friends. 

I am learning that while change can be unnerving and reckless, when you take yourself off the lead rope you receive freedom. Freedom comes with responsibilities, but wouldn't you rather be free to experience life from every point aside from just one? 

Keep your love, amigos.

-jr xx

i am not my sin

---

days and days and days go by.

they pass me up

like i'm sitting still

like i'm running out of time

the curtains in my room stay closed

just like the ones around my heart

but don't tell me that, for i'm afraid of the dark 

it crept in without me knowing

now you know, it's showing

it breaks through these walls

i'm afraid i can no longer stand tall

it still feels like i'm being consumed 

oh why does it have to loom 

all these people lean on me 

for they think that i can see

when really i'm no better than them

trapped alone in my sin 

but yesterday 

---

but eighteen yesterdays ago

i decided to open up the window

as soon as i did the breeze came through

and in it i felt you

i felt you surround me in grace

the darkness couldn't stay in place

it fled my heart that fell apart

you picked it up and healed the spark

tended to my open wounds

covered up the unexcused 

---

so now you see these days go by

but i'm not running out of time

the curtains stay open

the light comes in

i am not my sin 

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Hello to all my beautiful people! I promise a real post is coming soon. This is just one of those random things that you don't really want to post but end up posting anyway. If you've forgotten, here's your reminder that YOU ARE NOT WHAT YOU'VE DONE! You are worth it and you are going to get through today, not just tomorrow. You can live today instead of hoping for a better tomorrow! Today is the day to open up the window and let the light in. Don't collect dust and darkness, my friends. I hope you drew something from this random poetry.

-JacyRayn xx

the veil is torn

I feel like I've been holding out for something.

It's like I've been giving the okay to fly but someone hasn't cut the rope off my wings.

I'm so close to the top of the mountain but I can't seem to take the last steps.

***

These past few days I've really been struggling with self-doubt, majorly. I feel like that my whole life is on the backburner to everyone. I'm screaming and cheering my hardest for the team but they're only paying attention to the other fans, who in my eyes aren't even trying as hard as I am. I know that sounds conceited but it's just how my heart has felt.

I feel...left out
.

I feel like I'm in a dry, desolate wasteland and I'm just begging for God to pour out a river.

But in my struggle, I read some words that even though was just a drop of water, eased my longing soul.

"...Whenever we go through a dark time, we tend to focus more on the problem we're facing instead of the God we're following. When this happens, we risk missing the blessing God has planned for us on the other side of a trial..."

Oh how quickly I do this!

Oh, how fickle my heart is, how weak and weary it is. So fast I turn and fall to my knees at the sight of my problems and unanswered questions. My thoughts wander to how imperfect I am, to how I could be doing so much more but I'm not. How I could be better than my flesh but I still fight the same difficulties over and over.

My soul is restless.

"Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."  Matthew 11:28

In my restlessness, there is peace.

If you've ever thought about a seed when it grows, it starts out covered by dirt, under pressure, in darkness.

Alone, in a shell too small, feeling for something more than the quiet dark, that consumes thoughts.

Longing for the sunshine, about to crack.

Aren't we the same way?

My dear friends, I have forgotten that even though I know there is sunshine and warmth on the other side of the cold dirt, I have been consumed by my own selfish problems.

I have forgotten that God is a mercy God, He is my Abba, and I am His child no matter what comes against me!

So in my self-doubt, I have realized two simple things.

I am not good enough.

I will never be good enough. I will never be strong enough to carry my own problems. I will never have the ability to walk life with joy by myself.

God is good enough.

Jesus died for us. We are not good enough but He was the perfect exchange. His blameless life for my dirty, torn one. He wants my restless soul. He wants to wrap me in His arms and hold me and give me peace. He holds His hand out, patiently waiting for us to grab it when we take the veil off of our face and stop hiding behind our imperfection, and let him clean our face.

I tell you, Jesus tore the veil.

His last dying breath on Earth was the one the gave His spirit back up and tore the temple veil.

It shook the land and split the rocks.

It wasn't pretty.

So when you allow God to tear your veil, it's not always going to be easy or smooth.

But when the mask is gone, when our veil is torn, we are one with Jesus.

We open the opportunity for him to heal our broken piece, to crack our too-tight shell.

He can start to uncover the dirt and let the light shine through.

We can finally grow and receive peace.

In this, I urge you to ask God to tear your veil, and crack your shell.

You can receive peace.

with love,

JR xx 

RUN THE RACE - ABBIE GUEST POST

  Hi my dear readers!

Today on the blog I have one of my favorite blogging friends and a extremely talented writer, musician, fairy squad mother, and basically the queen of multi-talents, give it up for Abbie!

Thank you again for making this possible Abbs!

If you're not already following her, drop everything and go do it. Then you may come back.

I'm so delighted that she agreed to post for me this month! She's about to blow your mind.

Grab your juice box and notepad, kids. Abbie is the real deal.

* * *

THE BIGGEST OF SHOUTOUTS TO JACYRAYN HERE. Let’s give her a round of applause and some waffles. I am so incredibly honored to be taking over Loud And Clear today and sharing some thoughts that have been weighing heavy on my heart lately. :’) Thank you, JacyRayn, for inviting me and being one of the coolest people/bros/Switchfoot groms I know. And thank you, fabulous reader, for casting your eyes upon this post! Muchas hugs and waffles. <3

* * *

I once heard someone say that the air is thin at the summit of Mount Everest. They said that if you were to hike to the very top, you would be struggling to inhale and exhale. It would be like breathing through a straw while running on a treadmill. And something twisted inside of me and I thought, “Man. That must be painful.”

Breathing.

Through a straw.

While running on a treadmill.

When I think about the people who are doing my job better than I am, I feel an aching desire somewhere deep inside of me to do that job better. Just as good as they do it. Better than they do it. I want to be the best. I want to be flawless. I want to be perfect.

So I try to work harder, faster, and with more efficiency. I write more notes, I skim more words, I eat at my desk, I think, “I can squeeze one more hour of work in today.”

Maybe I’ll succeed, for a little while. Maybe I’ll be running a victory lap, maybe I’ll be biting my gold medals, maybe I’ll be singing my national anthem. But then I’ll go back and watch the tape, and see how I fell short of the finish line.

I didn’t quite make it.

I didn’t win.

I’m not a champion.

Because I’m not perfect.

I watch the others run for the gold medal and something twists inside of me and I think, “Man. That must be painful.”

Dancing around in the winner’s circle isn’t painful.

Disqualifying yourself for no reason is.

You should be perfect, says the judge in my head. She slams her gavel and shrugs her shoulders and says it like it is. You should be perfect.

But I’m not.

I’ve tried to be.

I’ve failed to be.

I’ve torn up the insides of my mind with a tornado of should haves and could haves.

I’ve witnessed the wreckage.

Crying.

Fighting.

Flying.

Repeating.

Breathing.

Through a straw.

While running on a treadmill.

But that judge in my mind is just an imposter. She’s there to blind me and brainwash my jury of self-depreciating thoughts. She’s there to white-out the evidence more obvious than the sun in the sky:

I am perfect.

But not because I crossed the finish line.

I am perfect because there’s a force living inside of me. The remnants of a supernova. A nursery of new stars and nebulae. A place where explosions will happen. A place where galaxies will be born. A place that a telescope will take its aim at one day, snap a picture, and leave scientists in their tiny universities slack-jawed with amazement.

I am not perfect because of what I do.

I am perfect because of who I am.

That’s the kind of perfection God writes poems about, late at night, when you’re asleep.

Because he can’t wait for you to wake up.

To open your eyes.

To breathe in the new day.

To run a race.

A race with no finish line.

* * *

Guys, let us all acknowledge how Abbie just slammed my heart.

I hope you felt as moved by that as I did.

If you did, leave a comment supporting her and go check out her blog!

I still can't thank you enough for taking over the mic (and the dropping it) today!

Readers, lets hear what you think!

mucho amor,

JacyRayn xx

P.S. What do you guys think about me making more headers for post like the one above?!

Let me know!

things are closer than they appear

--------------------------------

I looked into the rear-view mirror of my brother's beat up cavalier.

"objects in mirror are closer than they appear"

That seemed all too real to me.

Let me rewind a bit.

My baby sister was outside with all my brothers just playing and laughing like normal on the sunny day.
They had just gotten out of the pool and were air drying by running around with my grandma's 8-year-old dog who is still, despite his growing age, rambunctious.

Only moments later in the picture-esq scene did things go awry.

In a flash he jumped up in anger and bit my helpless sister.
His teeth ripped a hole in the side of her face and claw marks on her once perfectly plump cheeks.

Before I write more, Aliyah is okay and just as sassy as ever.

My uncle and grandma ran outside in haste and rushed her to the ER.
Soon after giving her some medicine, they sent her on to a bigger hospital to have surgery.

Two-years of age and she has to have stitches all over the right side of her face and her forehead.

Why her?

After pacing the floor nearly all day, that evening I finally get the call that she made it through
surgery well and they expect a fully recovery. 

I felt like I could finally breathe again and I wasn't carrying as heavy a load on my back.
My heart ached to hold my little being close to my chest and not let go.
Just the night before she had kissed me on my forehead and told me she loved me for the first time. 

Yet still, I felt like a piece of my soul was not intact.

The one little thing that completely altered my whole day, my whole life, snapped something in me. It brought out emotions I didn't even know could be felt. I wasn't aware that someone so tiny could  have such a tremendous influence on my feelings. But after all this was over and she was home snuggling me to death, something still didn't sit right. I felt like I was still missing a piece of information, like I wasn't told the whole story.

And then, I had a relization that changed my whole mind set.

"my whole life is closer than appears"

Right there.

I had an anomaly that my whole world was only held up by one small finger and could be blown away in a single breathe.

In the bat of an eyelash my whole life could be eternally changed for the better or for the worse.

So what did I get from this?

That my life is much closer than it seems.

Too often I find myself waiting around for life to happen or pushing off spur of the moment ideas.

I want to jump in the freeing pool of unknown and know that I am alive and that I am breathing.

I want to feel the blazing sun against my cheeks to feel the light in my bones.

Life is short, I want to live it well.

I'm not gonna play it safe any more.

Mediocrity has come and I have decided to show it the door, for the King is coming and He's calling for the ones who will do something extraordinary.

Do you ever just get tired of being who you are? Don't you feel like you could do more?

Maybe that's too much for you.

But Jesus didn't say to take it slow and safe.

--------------------------------

That being said, new things are coming! Keep an eye out for a very important post on Saturday!

Much love for you people,

JacyRayn xx