by Alesha Sinks | Oct 19, 2018 | Just Me
I sat on the park bench watching.
Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides.
Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide.
Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing.
Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.
The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.
Fall.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1539889710948-53U6H7OHR2EQN7RZJH4A/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNPKVmbt05aEWnErXou3fDl7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0tb-hnCqoepq4X8c1traqO_6-8vaS3UGENu9QP5pfFlLbyLeIY6QzmBTG9h7XCKkkQ/IMG_0515.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.
In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.
I sat there silently marveling.
Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather.
Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day.
Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.
Heat to cool.
Heavy to light.
Summer to fall.
And I had forgotten.
But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.
And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.
”Don’t forget what’s coming.”
Don’t forget what’s coming.
This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.
"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.
And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.
But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.
This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.
by Alesha Sinks | Oct 18, 2018 | Just Me
I sat on the park bench watching.
Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides.
Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide.
Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing.
Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.
The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.
Fall.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1539889710948-53U6H7OHR2EQN7RZJH4A/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNPKVmbt05aEWnErXou3fDl7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0tb-hnCqoepq4X8c1traqO_6-8vaS3UGENu9QP5pfFlLbyLeIY6QzmBTG9h7XCKkkQ/IMG_0515.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.
In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.
I sat there silently marveling.
Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather.
Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day.
Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.
Heat to cool.
Heavy to light.
Summer to fall.
And I had forgotten.
But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.
And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.
”Don’t forget what’s coming.”
Don’t forget what’s coming.
This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.
"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.
And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.
But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.
This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.
by Alesha Sinks | Jun 30, 2016 | Just Me
Another month is nearly over. Another set of thirty-one days that I’m oh-so ready to move past. The days and weeks this time around have added up slowly, painfully.
I’ve over and over felt…
Lost.
Overwhelmed.
Floundering.
I’ve been fighting for hope in an ocean of unknown that’s trying to drag me under it’s icy hopelessness.
In the days and weeks stretched before that, things felt…
More sure.
More stable.
More hopeful.
But despite of the seeming goodness of life, I still felt a little lost, a little overwhelmed, a little like a fish floundering for water.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1467236059987-GUOT6EHT0Y6YV5F8Q881/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kCSH7g0YjtIW3_A7a29n3J5Zw-zPPgdn4jUwVcJE1ZvWhW7QUl7Hlx1Ovi-Ue4YINkJFbgE-7XRK3dMEBRBhUpzDH0ALVHLGUeFrUZQLlcS5zXyFIzou0mcilCxnAprv_fy8Y6FU720n6VLvY1mGr40/image-asset.jpeg?format=original" alt=""/>
And as the emotions tug and pull at me with the changing of the winds, I struggle to keep a sure emotional footing. And I’m reminded again…
The current quality of my life does not determine my emotional and spiritual wellbeing.
Because on the good days and the bad days…
In the joyful seasons and in the painful seasons…
Through the happy times and the somber times…
I have a lifeline.
Somewhere in the midst of life I forgot that.
I forgot that there is rope next to me always, just waiting to pull me above the pounding waves if only I will grab on.
But like a stubborn child I am, I fight and flail against the waves. I flounder in the depths, struggling to prove my own sufficiency, when I could simply reach out to the help offered.
Somewhere in the day to day of the past two months, God interrupted me and pointed me gently back to my lifeline…back to Himself. All through those long days, the good and the bad, I could have been seeking Him, worshiping Him, learning from Him, holding tightly to His Words, listening for His voice.
My Lifeline was there all along, and I just didn’t see it.
Sisters…
Brothers…
I wish I could take you by the shoulders and give you the tiniest, gentlest shake and say in the softest, most passionate voice I could muster…
“You have a Lifeline.”
He is there, whether you feel Him or not.
He’s waiting right in front of you.
He’s not going to let the waves drown you while you’re in His care.
He’s speaking to you whether you can hear or not.
In fact, He’s already spoken and is just waiting for you to read it again.
And when I quit my stubborn floundering and grab tight to my Lifeline, the desperate grasping for more is over. The waves are still pounding and the wind is still pulling at my tired body and mind, but I’m safe.
It’s no longer up to me.
I’m no longer alone.
I’m no longer dependent on my circumstances for my joy.
There is utter freedom in dependence on Jesus.
You guys…we have a Lifeline. Let’s let that truth wash us and overwhelm us with gratitude. And then Iet’s grab on tight.
Let’s dig deep into His Word expecting Him to speak.
Let’s pray with passion and honesty and truth.
Let’s preach the gospel to our broken hearts.
Let’s speak out loud the truth of His love and grace.
Let’s humble ourselves in worship.
Let’s seek His face and ask for His help and fight for faith.
He is be there to pull us in close. Let’s grab our Lifeline and hold on with everything we’ve got and believe that He will not let us go. Let’s rediscover the joy in the freedom of dependence.
Be blessed
by Alesha Sinks | Jun 30, 2016 | Just Me
Another month is nearly over. Another set of thirty-one days that I’m oh-so ready to move past. The days and weeks this time around have added up slowly, painfully.
I’ve over and over felt…
Lost.
Overwhelmed.
Floundering.
I’ve been fighting for hope in an ocean of unknown that’s trying to drag me under it’s icy hopelessness.
In the days and weeks stretched before that, things felt…
More sure.
More stable.
More hopeful.
But despite of the seeming goodness of life, I still felt a little lost, a little overwhelmed, a little like a fish floundering for water.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1467236059987-GUOT6EHT0Y6YV5F8Q881/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kCSH7g0YjtIW3_A7a29n3J5Zw-zPPgdn4jUwVcJE1ZvWhW7QUl7Hlx1Ovi-Ue4YINkJFbgE-7XRK3dMEBRBhUpzDH0ALVHLGUeFrUZQLlcS5zXyFIzou0mcilCxnAprv_fy8Y6FU720n6VLvY1mGr40/image-asset.jpeg?format=original" alt=""/>
And as the emotions tug and pull at me with the changing of the winds, I struggle to keep a sure emotional footing. And I’m reminded again…
The current quality of my life does not determine my emotional and spiritual wellbeing.
Because on the good days and the bad days…
In the joyful seasons and in the painful seasons…
Through the happy times and the somber times…
I have a lifeline.
Somewhere in the midst of life I forgot that.
I forgot that there is rope next to me always, just waiting to pull me above the pounding waves if only I will grab on.
But like a stubborn child I am, I fight and flail against the waves. I flounder in the depths, struggling to prove my own sufficiency, when I could simply reach out to the help offered.
Somewhere in the day to day of the past two months, God interrupted me and pointed me gently back to my lifeline…back to Himself. All through those long days, the good and the bad, I could have been seeking Him, worshiping Him, learning from Him, holding tightly to His Words, listening for His voice.
My Lifeline was there all along, and I just didn’t see it.
Sisters…
Brothers…
I wish I could take you by the shoulders and give you the tiniest, gentlest shake and say in the softest, most passionate voice I could muster…
“You have a Lifeline.”
He is there, whether you feel Him or not.
He’s waiting right in front of you.
He’s not going to let the waves drown you while you’re in His care.
He’s speaking to you whether you can hear or not.
In fact, He’s already spoken and is just waiting for you to read it again.
And when I quit my stubborn floundering and grab tight to my Lifeline, the desperate grasping for more is over. The waves are still pounding and the wind is still pulling at my tired body and mind, but I’m safe.
It’s no longer up to me.
I’m no longer alone.
I’m no longer dependent on my circumstances for my joy.
There is utter freedom in dependence on Jesus.
You guys…we have a Lifeline. Let’s let that truth wash us and overwhelm us with gratitude. And then Iet’s grab on tight.
Let’s dig deep into His Word expecting Him to speak.
Let’s pray with passion and honesty and truth.
Let’s preach the gospel to our broken hearts.
Let’s speak out loud the truth of His love and grace.
Let’s humble ourselves in worship.
Let’s seek His face and ask for His help and fight for faith.
He is be there to pull us in close. Let’s grab our Lifeline and hold on with everything we’ve got and believe that He will not let us go. Let’s rediscover the joy in the freedom of dependence.
Be blessed
by Alesha Sinks | Jun 30, 2016 | Just Me
Another month is nearly over. Another set of thirty-one days that I’m oh-so ready to move past. The days and weeks this time around have added up slowly, painfully.
I’ve over and over felt…
Lost.
Overwhelmed.
Floundering.
I’ve been fighting for hope in an ocean of unknown that’s trying to drag me under it’s icy hopelessness.
In the days and weeks stretched before that, things felt…
More sure.
More stable.
More hopeful.
But despite of the seeming goodness of life, I still felt a little lost, a little overwhelmed, a little like a fish floundering for water.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1467236059987-GUOT6EHT0Y6YV5F8Q881/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kCSH7g0YjtIW3_A7a29n3J5Zw-zPPgdn4jUwVcJE1ZvWhW7QUl7Hlx1Ovi-Ue4YINkJFbgE-7XRK3dMEBRBhUpzDH0ALVHLGUeFrUZQLlcS5zXyFIzou0mcilCxnAprv_fy8Y6FU720n6VLvY1mGr40/image-asset.jpeg?format=original" alt=""/>
And as the emotions tug and pull at me with the changing of the winds, I struggle to keep a sure emotional footing. And I’m reminded again…
The current quality of my life does not determine my emotional and spiritual wellbeing.
Because on the good days and the bad days…
In the joyful seasons and in the painful seasons…
Through the happy times and the somber times…
I have a lifeline.
Somewhere in the midst of life I forgot that.
I forgot that there is rope next to me always, just waiting to pull me above the pounding waves if only I will grab on.
But like a stubborn child I am, I fight and flail against the waves. I flounder in the depths, struggling to prove my own sufficiency, when I could simply reach out to the help offered.
Somewhere in the day to day of the past two months, God interrupted me and pointed me gently back to my lifeline…back to Himself. All through those long days, the good and the bad, I could have been seeking Him, worshiping Him, learning from Him, holding tightly to His Words, listening for His voice.
My Lifeline was there all along, and I just didn’t see it.
Sisters…
Brothers…
I wish I could take you by the shoulders and give you the tiniest, gentlest shake and say in the softest, most passionate voice I could muster…
“You have a Lifeline.”
He is there, whether you feel Him or not.
He’s waiting right in front of you.
He’s not going to let the waves drown you while you’re in His care.
He’s speaking to you whether you can hear or not.
In fact, He’s already spoken and is just waiting for you to read it again.
And when I quit my stubborn floundering and grab tight to my Lifeline, the desperate grasping for more is over. The waves are still pounding and the wind is still pulling at my tired body and mind, but I’m safe.
It’s no longer up to me.
I’m no longer alone.
I’m no longer dependent on my circumstances for my joy.
There is utter freedom in dependence on Jesus.
You guys…we have a Lifeline. Let’s let that truth wash us and overwhelm us with gratitude. And then Iet’s grab on tight.
Let’s dig deep into His Word expecting Him to speak.
Let’s pray with passion and honesty and truth.
Let’s preach the gospel to our broken hearts.
Let’s speak out loud the truth of His love and grace.
Let’s humble ourselves in worship.
Let’s seek His face and ask for His help and fight for faith.
He is be there to pull us in close. Let’s grab our Lifeline and hold on with everything we’ve got and believe that He will not let us go. Let’s rediscover the joy in the freedom of dependence.
Be blessed
