Alycia Christine

Vivid Fiction, Epic Photography

Category: Encouragement

Blooming Through Adversity

Featuring the “Blooming Through” photo.

Adversity is the part of life we would all rather avoid. Yet no matter how much we try, we can never run from adversity, nor can we hide from it. When difficulties arise and evil times befall us, the only thing we can do is work together to endure and overcome each obstacle as it appears. As we face each new challenge, we become stronger, wiser, bolder, and more mature. To be certain, none of us will make it out of this life alive. However, those brave souls who go out fighting with hope still wrapped within their fluttering hearts will have waged a far more victorious battle than those enslaved by fear. This is a reminder that the brightest blossoms do indeed bloom through adversity.

Until we meet again, may we each rewrite our world for the better!
Alycia

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This inspirational image is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with enchanting fiction, deep love, and vivid art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

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Your Broken Potential

When life leaves you broken, remember that this is not the end. As painful as it is, this struggle is the potential for a new beginning if you choose to make it such.

Alycia

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This inspirational image is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with enchanting fiction, deep love, and vivid art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

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Optimism

When life seems like one nothing more than a rusted disaster, remember that even the rusted places hold beauty if you are willing to see it.

Alycia

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This inspirational image is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with enchanting fiction, deep love, and vivid art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

FREE STUFF

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Skinshifter | Dreamdrifter | The Dryad’s Sacrifice | Thorn & Thistle| Musings | First Fruits

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Drawn Art | BW & Sepia | Animal | Earth | Flowers | Trees | Mountains | Objects | Urban | Water | MORE

When You’re Struggling Through The What, Remember Your Why

“Fallen Angel” photograph

I hear each tick of the clock—each second passing with the steady beat of my own heart. Time continues its inexorable slip through my fingers. The holidays are always hectic. There are always so many things to see and do. This morning, I feel the pinch of it all. My shoulders ache with the weight of all the hustle and bustle. The job needs doing. The clients need helping. The laundry needs washing. The papers need filing. My products need marketing. The family needs visiting. And on and on and on.

Every time I turn around, there is some new shiny distraction that keeps me away from the scrawling pen and paper and I long for simpler times.

“If only I were more organized, I can get all of the things done that I need to do,” I think.

The truth, however, is that better organization will only solve a fraction of my problem because, if I’m honest, busyness isn’t my core dilemma. The real issue is motivation. Motivation to work and to write has been scarce for me these days and it’s compounded by the constant whine of all of the distractions. Of course, the biggest, scariest distraction of all though lurks beneath all the petty stuff—the distraction of doubt.

Can I really do all that I need to do, and if I can, is it really worth all of the effort?

I think all people struggle with these two questions no matter what they are trying to do in life. One of the chief reasons that these questions can bog us down is because we ourselves haven’t quite answered the question of why the work we’re doing in this life actually matters. If you truly understand why your work matters, then that why will carry you through all of the muck of the what. If you don’t, all of the things you want to accomplish will quickly overwhelm and bury you in a stagnant mire of apathy.

Of course, why work matters is something of a subjective question that can change from person to person. For me though, work—whether it’s artistic, technical, or relational—only matters if it helps make someone else’s life better in some way. A kitchen appliance that makes it faster or easier for a person to prepare a meal matters. A spreadsheet software that helps its users better track company inventory and sales matters. A piece of art or music that entertains people and makes them think about life in a new way matters. Everything else is pointless.

Finding your why fuels your way.

In the end, it’s not a question of if I can write; it’s a question of why I should. Not everyone will understand why I do the things I do or say the things I say. Truthfully, I’m not even sure that half of my own family members understand why I am the way that I am. But that is okay because I don’t write for them. It’s for those men and women young and old who feel trapped in the corners and crevices of this flinty-edged world that I write. I write for the lonely, the aching, the weary, and the wanting. I write to remind readers that you are not alone—that we share this broken, grieving world together. My dearest hope is that my words will help to bind up your wounds.

In short, I write to remind you to hope again.

And though dark doubts and distractions may sing their shrill cacophony in the back of my mind, I’ll continue to pay heed to the bright Son of Hope rising before my eyes and ask that you do the same. Always remember that this perfect Son who was born of a virgin, crucified on a cross, and buried in a borrowed grave, did indeed rise again. Always remember that it is His what that laid the foundation for our true why, and it is His why that will always light the way through our what. Merry Christmas!

Until we meet again, may we each rewrite our world for the better!

Alycia

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The SCRAWLS blog is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with enchanting fiction, deep love, and vivid art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

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What Happens When Thanksgiving Feels More like a Thanks-Getting?

thanksgivingtable1-ac4x6On the eve of Thanksgiving Day, I must admit an ugly truth—I am less interested in giving thanks for the things I have than I am counting the things I want. Never mind the Turkey Day, I want to skip straight to Black Friday. Being grateful isn’t nearly as much fun as being enticed. The admission sticks in my throat like a half-swallowed barb. How could I, of all people, be so unwilling to give thanks?

How bad could a little ingratitude really be?

Apparently, ingratitude breeds catastrophe. According the Bible, the ruin of our world actually occurred because humans were ungrateful. When Adam and Eve rebelled against God and ate the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, it introduced several curses including death to humans (Genesis 2-3). Such a calamity happened because Adam and Eve were ungrateful. Adam and Eve’s exalted position of fellowship with God was not enough. Being able to walk with the Creator of the Universe in the utopic Garden of Eden was not enough. Instead of being grateful and content with being made in the image of God and having direct fellowship with Him, Adam and Eve were tempted to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil so that they could become like God. In demanding more, they actually chose for themselves much less. Whether you believe such a story to be fact or fiction is not the point. The point is that this story highlights the misery that occurs when we don’t give thanks.

This cautionary tale brings me back to this morning in which I sit in an attitude of ungratefulness for the things that I’ve been given. Never mind the fact that I sit with a full belly on a comfortable couch in a warm home with electricity to power the lights and keep the clothes tumbling in the dryer. Never mind the fact that I am surrounded by shelves filled with books, movies, and art. Never mind the fact that my husband and I actually have enough money to cover all of our bills this month. Never mind the fact that I have had a good amount of work lately to help cover those expenses. Never mind the fact that more people have been interested in my books and my photography than ever before. Never mind all of the good stuff.

A malcontent multiplies misery.

Instead of the warm home, I focus on the creaking floors cloaked in ragged carpet under my feet. Instead of the paid rent, I focus on windows that weep every other time it rains. Instead of the ample electricity, I focus on the flickering overhead light and the groaning, pint-sized refrigerator in our tiny kitchen. Instead of being thankful for the work that I now have, I focus on the fact that we could well be homeless in a few months if sales and jobs don’t pick up soon. Those major worries and minor annoyances are that have occupied my mind for the last month.

A few weeks ago, I met a woman in the middle of the grocery store whose home sits less than a mile from mine. When the tornado came whirling and swirling through our corner of Dallas last December, she and her husband hid inside a closet. That closet was one of the few things left standing after the clawing winds did their worst. When I met her eleven months later, she was buying toilet paper for the RV where she and her husband live because the repairs on their house still aren’t finished. She lives in a twenty-foot trailer and I live in an 850-square-foot apartment. And yet I am ungrateful.

During yet another grocery run, I had a homeless man offer to help me load my groceries into the car. My newest acquisitions took up the entire trunk of my vehicle while all that he owned fit inside a child’s backpack. He has so little and yet was still generous to me who had so much. And yet I am ungrateful.

Three years ago, my husband and I were far more affluent than we are now. We owned an 1800-square-foot house and had more than enough money from our jobs to pay for all of our needs. I often had the option of taking only those freelance projects that I found interesting and was able to work from home. We had so much, yet I was miserable.

What is wrong with me?

We had some friends where we lived, but most of our closest friends were scattered far beyond the desert sands we called home. We might have had a glut of material possessions, but I couldn’t have been more starved in emotional health. I was still reeling from the deaths of three loved-ones and the incapacitation of a fourth when we decided to move to Dallas, and that blood-stained view has colored my perception ever since.

Dallas was an opportunity to start anew—to make new friends, seek more cultural variety, and trade our easy but mundane living for a chance to make a true difference in the lives of others. And yet I’ve often been less than grateful that we took this chance. We’ve endured a lot to come here and to remain here, but we have also been amazingly blessed. My husband and I have found real purpose in this city that we didn’t have in the desert. Life is still hard and often discouraging, but the work is some of the most fulfilling that we could do.

Even with all of my worries weighing me down, I wouldn’t trade my life here for my life in the desert—not even for a second. I still don’t know how all of this will play out, but I do know that the God who faithfully led us through the desert is the same God who wants to restore us back to Eden. Whether we get back to Eden or not, I think is up to me and whether I’m willing to accept His good gifts just as they are or if I’m still more interested in eating the fruit of ingratitude plucked from that poisoned tree.

Until we meet again, may we each rewrite our world for the better!

Alycia

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The SCRAWLS blog is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with enchanting fiction, deep love, and vivid art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

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Skinshifter | Dreamdrifter | The Dryad’s Sacrifice | Thorn & Thistle| Musings | First Fruits

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What Do You Do When The Monster Is Worth Saving?

Of_Kelpie_Lullabies_cover-1600x2400As many people, I am a huge lover of mythical creatures from lore and legend. The reason I love working with these strange and fantastic figures is because of the freedom they give me as an author. Using mythological creatures allows me the ability to explore different cultural archetypes and stereotypes without overtly offending anyone. Of the many stories I have written, “Of Kelpie Lullabies” is a perfect example of this technique. I created a deeply flawed heroine who longs for a normal life, but is cursed by corrupted magic to be a murdering monster. In the end, it is Keiranna’s choice to accept or reject love and forgiveness for her crimes that determines whether or not she can have that normal life that she so desperately craves.

The story itself may deal with sorcerers and magic, but I believe that most people can identify with its themes of grief, love, longing, despair, and forgiveness. How many of you reading this are cursed with the slavery known as drug addiction and alcohol addiction first hand? How many have become so angry that you have harmed someone with words, actions, or with your own fists? Who now hates yourself for the wrongness of you choices or the weakness of your habits?

Welcome to Keiranna’s hellish life.

How many of you know a drug addict or an alcoholic cursed with a need for a substance that is so powerful it controls every decision. Do you weep for them or are you beyond caring? What about those who hurt you? Do you write them off as a monster too loathsome to love or do you cry for them all the harder?

Welcome to Edwin’s predicament.

Edwin could have turned his back on the monster he saw destroying others from a distance, but he did not. He saw her, all of her. He saw Keiranna’s anger and her sadness. He saw her brutality and her fragility. In the end, he reached out to her because he understood that her pain matched his own.

Keiranna does not rely on her own strength to save herself nor does Edwin. Instead they make the choice to help each other and seek aid from a power far stronger than both of them to accomplish that goal.

Are you the monster or do you know the monster?

I ask you today, who is your Edwin and who is your Keiranna? What power do you rely on that is greater than yourself to remake your life and to remake the lives of others? I personally rely on Jesus Christ to help me love myself and love others—even the monsters. I know that many of my friends and acquaintances prefer to pray to other deities such as Allah or Buddha, but I prefer to worship Jesus because he is the only person I have ever known to prove his true love for me by dying in my stead. He took the penalty for my imperfections on himself to show me that, though I often make mistakes and do wrong toward others, I am still worth dying for. It is Jesus’s love, his sacrifice, and his defeat of death that I cling to daily because Jesus is the only person I have ever found whose loving faithfulness never wavers.

If you’re struggling with something that you can’t overcome on your own, I encourage you to ask Jesus for help. You’ll be amazed just how far his love and strength can shine in your darkness and your doubt.

Until we meet again, may we each rewrite our world for the better!

Alycia

P.S.-If you haven’t read the story, you can do so for free. It’s one of the stories in my Musings anthology which is given away on my Welcome Page.

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The SCRAWLS blog is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with enchanting fiction, deep love, and vivid art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

FREE STUFF

Books:
Skinshifter | Dreamdrifter | The Dryad’s Sacrifice | Thorn & Thistle| Musings | First Fruits

Artwork:
Drawn Art | BW & Sepia | Animal | Earth | Flowers | Trees | Mountains | Objects | Urban | Water | MORE

Write Where It Hurts

Blue_Undulations-AC4x6“Talented writers don’t write perfectly. They write courageously.” -Jeff Goins

It’s 6 a.m. and I’ve already been up for two hours. I’ve sent my husband off to work, finished a few house chores, and dressed for the day. Sitting in front of my computer with a steaming cup of tea and a half-eaten bowl of cereal by my side, I open a document and skim the last four pages of yesterday’s writing. I have a few precious hours of quiet in which to work before heading off to my regular job. I can’t waste them. Today starts me off in the middle of a scene in which one of my characters has been abducted and the other characters are still reeling from the shock of losing her. The tension couldn’t be higher—for them or for me.

After writing six books, you would think that book seven would be easy, but it isn’t. The newest novel has proven persnickety so far. Beginning a book in the right place is one of the trickier parts of writing for me. This means that I’ve written three different drafts of the Fireforger prologue before finally getting it right. I’ve been working on this manuscript for months now—living with it day in and day out. Dreamdrifter might be new to the eyes of the world, but it’s already 30,000 words behind me. I’ll sit at this desk for the next two hours refining and writing. I still have a lot of marketing to do today since Dreamdrifter just came out, but that will have to wait until I’m finished with my day job this evening. For now, I put aside all of the other worries and distractions. For now, I just write.

So far, life as a writer has been anything but easy or affluent. This is a full time job for me which pays less than minimum wage in exchange for long hours of emotionally-exhausting work. This may not be my only job or my easiest job, but it is my best occupation. Writing is the career that I feel called to do because it allows me to be a triumphant survivor by profession and to share my stories of encouragement with others.

I am a survivor and an adapter, and I always have been. I’ve dealt with three disabilities since early childhood to make it this far in life. In the past five years, I’ve buried three loved-ones, watched a fourth slip beyond sanity, and lost half of my belongings to fire, electronic failure, and financial downsizing.

As painful as life can sometimes be, there have been two constants to help me slog through all of the mess: my loved-ones and my writing. The blessings of true love and friendship have helped me overcome every obstacle—no matter how small or large. We cling to each other for support as we swim these turbulent seas. There are those I know who have endured lives far harsher than mine and I remember their stories as I write.

Like so many of us, my characters are all survivors of something—broken homes, broken hearts, broken hopes. Each has had his or her share of tragedy or catastrophe. Katja, the main character of Skinshifter, Dreamdrifter, and now Fireforger, lost her entire clan in a single bloody night. While she managed to survive the sudden massacre that destroyed her family, it took her much longer to relearn how to live. Her friends helped her find hope again just as my family and friends have helped me.

When I write, my yearning is to remind readers not to wade through this wonderful and terrible life by ourselves. Yes, sometimes the waves are gentle enough that we can make it a stroke or two on our own without drowning, but we don’t have to wade through it alone. We need each other to help celebrate each other’s successes and help to buoy each other up through all of the upsets.

My words help keep me swimming toward that new dawn peeking just over the dark shore, but they do no good for you or anyone else unless they are shared. I write not just to survive life, but to understand and overcome it. I write to hope. I write to thrive. My dearest hope is that my words help you thrive too.

Until we meet again, may we each rewrite our world for the better!

Alycia

(This article was originally published as a guest blog on Sarah Noffke’s website on 10/14/2016.)

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The SCRAWLS blog is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with vivid fiction, deep love, and epic art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

FREE STUFF

Books:
Skinshifter | Dreamdrifter | The Dryad’s Sacrifice | Thorn & Thistle| Musings | First Fruits

Artwork:
Drawn Art | BW & Sepia | Animal | Earth | Flowers | Trees | Mountains | Objects | Urban | Water | MORE

The Imperfect Fit

VarianceDear Round Peg in a Square Hole,

It’s okay. I know that it seems like everyone in the world thinks that you should be something you’re not, but you don’t have to be what other people expect of you. It’s okay to be yourself. In fact, it’s best to be yourself. Even when you feel that you don’t fit in, there are very good reasons why God has made you the way He has and has placed you in the place where you are.

It’s okay to not quite fit.

If I’m honest, I have to admit that I have never fit in or truly belonged anywhere. I was child who was deemed “gifted and talented” by my teachers and yet I spent much of my school years enrolled in special education classes. Despite being a special ed student, I graduated high school with high honors in the top twelve percent of my class and had my pick of colleges. I chose to study Agricultural Journalism at Texas A&M University not because I was all that interested in ag, but because the degree meant that I could learn to shoot photography and write while being heavily involved in science and wildlife management. While at college, I discovered a love of fiction writing even though my degree was strictly nonfiction. I used my journalism degree during three different internships and a job before my husband and I moved to a small town for his work.

Once moved, I discovered that the only employment I could get with my formative photojournalism degree was work as a secretary to a chamber of commerce in a town with only one permanent tourist attraction. Eventually, I quit the job to start my own business selling art and commercial photography. Despite the enterprise being in a poor town, the business managed to turn a profit by its third year. Not much of a profit, mind you, but enough to be in the black. Finally, in spite of the fact that I’m still a horribly slow reader, I managed to published six books in four years.

The point of my explaining all of this is not to try to impress you. The point is to show you that you probably won’t find a more round peg in a square hole than me. And that is good thing. Being a round peg has taught me to roll with the waves that life sends me—to be somewhat flexible in how I fit in a place. I may never quite fit in the spaces I am placed, but the wiggle room allows me to learn new things and grow to meet new challenges in ways that other people can’t. This is a good thing.

Use your uniqueness to help redefine your parameters.

If I had studied for a regular journalism degree, I would never have had the opportunity to learn the science that I needed to know when I wrote research feature stories for two of my internships. If I didn’t have the background in wildlife management, I never would have been competent in handling animals for my job as a pet care specialist after college. If I had studied English as my major instead of ag journalism, I would never have understood the mechanics for the concise, clear writing that is so integral to popular and genre fiction. Finally, if I hadn’t taken that creative writing class as an elective, I wouldn’t have realized how much I love writing fiction until I was much older. As odd as each of these seemingly counterintuitive decisions have been, every one of them has helped shape me into the multitalented, creative individual that I am. Being odd has shaped me into an authentic kind of beautiful.

Use the discomfort to your advantage.

Let’s face it. The only way round pegs get to be perfectly round or square pegs get to be perfectly square is when all of our rough edges are whittled away and sanded down. That isn’t always comfortable work. As painful as it is though, it is necessary and good. After all, if God has a good plan for each of us, then it means that He has a fitting place for each of us.

Yes, sometimes our circumstances are mistakes, but they never God’s. God knows what He’s doing even when you and I don’t. If we are seeking His will and walking in His grace, then we needn’t worry. We can rest assured that we are following our true purposes even when those purposes push us into some very tight corners. God knows the plans He has for us—plans not to harm us, but to prosper us. God desires, above all else, to give us a future and a hope (ref. Jeremiah 29:11).

You don’t have to be what others expect. You just have to do what God asks.

If He wanted to, God could fix this broken world with a single spoken word, but instead He chooses to fix this world in smaller steps because He wants each of us to be involved in its healing. You and I were made with a purpose. We were each made in God’s image. Even when Satan tries to trip us up with his distractions and tries to mar your joy with his discouragement, you should know that God’s plans for you as his precious round peg are more inspired and impressive than anything this broken world can aspire for you to do. In fact, God’s plans for you are even bigger, better, and often even more daunting than the plans you have for yourself.

Yes, life will be difficult and others might not always understand. Even so, always remember that God knows you better than anyone else and He chose you. You and I might be a little oblong yet, but I have no doubt that God will whittle us into just the right place if we let Him. When He gets finished, what amazing sculptures we will be!

May we always remember together that God chooses us—His beautiful, useful round pegs—to fulfill His awesome purposes. Until we meet again, may we each rewrite our world for the better!

Alycia

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The SCRAWLS blog is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with vivid fiction, deep love, and epic art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

Books:
Skinshifter | Dreamdrifter | The Dryad’s Sacrifice | Thorn & Thistle| Musings | First Fruits | FREE STUFF

Art & Decor:
Drawn Art | BW & Sepia | Animal | Earth | Flowers | Trees | Mountains | Objects | Urban | Water | MORE

The Hard Climb to Success

Peak_Perspective-4x6ACDear Dreamer,

Did you forget that the hardest work in life is what you do to fulfill your dreams? I did. Earlier this week, I broke down and screamed to the heavens. In that moment, I believed the lie that I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was so tired of fighting that all I wanted to do was lay down and give up. Instead I prayed. Finally, after all of that poisonous frustration had leaked out of my pores, I crawled off of the floor and started working anew. In performing that last resolute act, I remembered that it isn’t the talented who succeed in life. Success is seen only by those dedicated enough to persevere through the hardships.

To “strive for a goal” isn’t just a cute cliché, it’s the truth.

Fulfilled dreams are hard-fought and even harder-won things. Such dreams—if they’re worth attaining—don’t arrive in pretty little packages dropped conveniently on our doorsteps. Instead, they are revealed in the breathtaking sunrise views seen only on the summits of mountains. In order to experience them, we first must scramble bruised, bloody, and half-blind up the dark, ragged peaks of our life’s journey. In the end, it isn’t the attainment of the dream that gives us confidence; our confidence comes from knowing that we conquered the mountain.

Every morning when I get ready to write, I strap on a mental combat helmet because I know that I have to war against myself in order to attain that precious dream that I so desire. Even as I prepare to write yet another book’s rough draft, I am reminded that I have already succeeded in writing a book. In fact, I’ve written several of them. Yet, even after writing multiple books, I have come to realize that the process of writing itself doesn’t get any easier. I doubt that it ever will. Even so, the confidence I have because I have already climbed a mountain helps me persevere. My motivation to push through the grind and achieve another victory gets stronger with each word that I write and each sentence that I finish.

Small victories pave the way for big success.

I didn’t always have this confidence. Like every other human being on this planet, I began life illiterate. Unlike most others, I stayed that way far longer than I should have. Through no small sacrifice of time, money, and mentorship, my parents and teachers helped me learned to read and write. Through large amounts of effort, I learned—and am still learning—to write well. The thing about dreams is that they are not accomplished alone. It usually takes a dedicated militia armed with a puddle-full of miracles and an ocean’s worth of encouragement to help one person achieve her dreams. This is why it is so important that each of us dreamers also encourage and mentor other dreamers toward success. All of us can dream solo, but none of us can achieve solo.

If dream-fulfillment was easy, everyone would do it.

Of course, there is an alternative to dream-fulfillment. The more-level roads of Giving Up and Getting By snake around those rugged summits with seeming ease. It was on one of these roads that my gaze lingered upon a little too long this week. Such roads look far safer and far more tempting than the jagged height I’m currently scaling. But be warned: such winding roads are a trap.

These roads will distract you with false promises of safety, comfort, and convenience. They will try to lure you away from your God-given purpose with easy pleasures. Make no mistake, these pretty distractions are those colorful packages dropped on our doorsteps for our convenience. And, yes, they will satisfy for a time. Even so, their half-spoiled goods can never provide true fulfillment. In the end, they will only shrink your heart and sour your soul.

Even the narrow path up the mountainside will tear at your faith and trample your courage. The twisted roots and the sharp rocks you encounter along the way will try to trip you up with worries or bludgeon you with fears. Foul winds of discouragement will whip around you, whispering that you should just lie down and give in. You are not that valuable, and so your dreams are not that important. Don’t listen to the lies. Don’t ever forget that you are so valuable that God gave His own son’s life to save you. Push yourself off of your face and keep going. If you don’t have the strength to walk, then crawl.

Better to crawl up a mountain of adversity, than to stroll along a road of convenience.

Remember that all of those distractions and discouragements are Satan’s way of keeping you from finding and following your God-given purpose for living. God has a plan for you and it’s an even better plan than yours. Fighting for your dreams is part of that purpose because it strengthens you to be able to withstand the storms of life when they rage around you. If you stand on the easy road when the storms come, the floods of hardship will wash you away along with the rest of the frail and feeble. However, if you’re anchored to the rock of the mountain, you will endure and you will succeed.

You can do this and so can I. Together we rededicate our hearts and minds to the noble ascent—knowing as we push forward that we will not stop until we reach that magnificent, sunlit dream. Until we meet again, may we each rewrite our world for the better.

Alycia

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The SCRAWLS blog is brought to you from the writing desk of Alycia Christine at Purple Thorn Press and Photography with vivid fiction, deep love, and epic art for all. As always, contact me with any questions or thoughts. Thanks!

Books:
Skinshifter | Dreamdrifter | The Dryad’s Sacrifice | Thorn & Thistle| Musings | First Fruits | FREE STUFF

Artwork:
Drawn Art | BW & Sepia | Animal | Earth | Flowers | Trees | Mountains | Objects | Urban | Water | MORE

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