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

BREATHER

you took a little piece of me

i bet you've forgotten you have it

tucked away in a book with a dog-eared page

that piece of my heart sat

but then you packed all your books away

you sealed the top tight

away went that piece of my heart

yet i stayed quiet

i figured out i dont need that piece

to be whole is to give it all away

yet hope some day you'll lend me that book

so that i can see you still kept it

that little piece of my heart

that i'll never forget





here's some random poetry i wrote on the spot about some random heart feelings. i took a breather! (if you hadn't already noticed my absence) i was quite overwhelmed with life for a few months! i hope you'll forgive me and understand. lots of crazy good and just plain crazy things happening in life right now! i got accepted to COLLEGE! Whaaa?! I graduate highschool in three months!! Super crazy, guys. I've also been working on my first NOVEL. My eldest brother moved out. There is so much going on y'all! i have much love for you guys! i'm back on the blogtrain. (choo choo!) exciting news coming soon! stay tuned.

-jr

scars

certain favors

specific words

voices

remind me of the list I keep

of those who have done me wrong

these things make me remember the pain

run my fingers along the scars

think of the times before they let me down

my flesh angers at the thought of the wound

i feel it well up inside

then Your hand grabbed mine

You looked me in the eye

And said "child, look at mine"

the scars on your hands

worse than my own

held every wrong

all of the shame

they reminded me of the marks

that I have put on other people

while I selfishly look at my own

you took all the blame

you remembered no more

the pain

the scars to show

life is not bruises cuts and past wrongs

it's forgiving and learning to grow

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

just some messy thoughts for you

-jr xx

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

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!

BURNING YOUTH LAUNCH

This is it.

This is where I explain all the hype that my blog friends and I have been building up.

Flash-back to about a month ago, I was thrown into a group chat with some of my friends.

(Kate, Abbie, and Aaliyah)

Friendly conversation was going when all of the sudden, Kate and Abbie decided to ask me to join them in pursuit of a idea. But little did they know, that it would be more than an idea.

BURNING YOUTH is a movement.

It's a safe-place..

It's the generation who is going to rise up, and fight the darkness.

A group of young adults differing in age, walks of life, and different parts of the world, but we all have one similar goal:

to spread hope where there is none.

So what is this, exactly?

It's a website where you can go and get built up.

It's a place where you can find joy.

It's somewhere you can live and thrive without a mask.

It's a collection of art, slam poetry, encouraging posts, and photography all just to say

you aren't alone.

Even more than that, it's a place where we are in this together.

Let me just say it in short that this is going to bigger than all of us and that lives are going to be changed! The Lord is moving in mighty ways and this is going to be a candle in a dark room.

We are all called to be blazing flames in the darkness.

We are called to be BURNING YOUTH.

So, you guys definitely need to go check out the page!
Myself and some rad other individuals will be contributing and we want to hear from you!
Go give it a follow and stay posted!
Thank you guys for all the support you always give!

Keep your head up and stay alive, friends.

much love.

-JacyRayn