The jail doors were wide open. This was their chance for freedom. But none of the prisoners tried to escape. Because there was something else, another freedom. A different freedom. The freedom in the hearts of those worshipping God - in the middle of their cell, in the middle of the night.
I feel like a prisoner who can hear the voices raised in worship from the people beside me. And while everyone is mesmerised by the freedom in the worshipping hearts, I'm confused. I feel like a traitor. Is it supposed to be this hard, to determine which is the right freedom?
Help me, God.

11 days.

Do our hearts know something we don't?

Show me Your glory.

I long to look on the face of the one that I love, long to stay in Your presence, it's where I belong.

My upcoming road trip around Australia has become a goal I'm aiming for, the rainbow I'm waiting for after the storm. And if I'm really honest with myself, it's the only thing keeping me sane right now. This year has been the most difficult one when it comes to coping with where my life is going. I've been so desperate to just go somewhere, anywhere. I've been aching to get away and travel, to explore and surround myself with new and unfamiliar things, to see a part of the world I have never seen before (which really isn't much at all).
I mean, I always have felt this way. But this year, it's more than a longing, it's vital.
This trip is all a part of it. This trip is exactly what I need now. I feel as if my skin is the only thing that's keeping me from going a thousand differently places and doing a thousand different things at once.
I'm just waiting, waiting, waiting.
17 days.

Like the rising sun that shines, awake my soul.

Not entirely sure if I matter at all.