I will just go ahead and tell you: these posts will be few and far between. Aside from my hesitancy about this whole public diary thing, I have this really annoying habit where I get obsessed with something for about a month and then I just kind of forget about it. The days I don't post, I assure you, you're not missing out on much. If there were to be something new under the sun, it won't be found here. This blog will merely be the musings of a broke and broken college girl trying to find myself and my Savior.
My dad is a carpenter by trade. He owns a cabinet shop and has smelled of sawdust and cigarette smoke for as long as I can remember. His hands are calloused from hard work and his beard is gray from wanting to work hard when there was no work to be done. I am ten hours away from my dad but I know what he is doing right this second- he is in "his chair" watching FOX news, ranting to my mother about taxes and democrats.
Growing up in the outskirts of Birmingham, I learned pretty fast what's important: God, Alabama football, and sweet tea. Turns out only two of those things matter. Tough financial times for my family has actually become one of my biggest blessings. Isn't it funny how God does that? I'm down here stressed and panicked and He just says over and over "Shh. Be still. Wait." And I never believe it but then I wake up one day and I think "Wow."
I want to live in a way that people will eventually not see me but see Christ living in me. I want to know Him and His word so well that I can't help but bring it up in conversation. I want Him to not just be part of me, but all of me. Why do I want that? Because He is a Carpenter by trade. It doesn't make sense but He doesn't throw me out with the scraps. He sees all of the rotten and splintered wood that I offer and He knows what He could make of me. Undeservedly, He calls me His child. I am a Carpenter's daughter. His nails are what hold me together.
"You make beautiful things out of the dust, You make beautiful things out of us."
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