Entry #6 • September 16th, 2025

When It's Quiet Enough to Hear

My creative brain doesn’t turn on until 9 or 10pm. Tonight it’s even later thanks to circumstances beyond my little world that made it hard to just…get into it. So I’m starting this entry at 11pm. We’ll see if I can cut myself off at a reasonable time (before 1am). I know my threshold is about midnight. But sometimes I can’t stop because it’s just really flowing…and then I try to force myself to be done by 1am. Because I’ve found that if I fall asleep after 2am, the next day is pretty shot. I just feel lousy. Shocker, huh?

So we’ll see how many words I can punch out right now. Not that it’s about word count (thank goodness, otherwise you’d still be back on entry #3 or something), but I do try to capture a whole entry in one sitting if I can. These entries start as a stream of consciousness that I go back and refine—over and over—just to make them a little more palatable to read. Trust me, you don’t want the unedited one. It’s pretty repetitive (I started to type “and redundant”…lol case in point…definitely just had to google that one, “case in point” or “case and point.” I guessed right and now I’ve learned something).

What It Feels Like Right Now

Currently I feel…

Like I’ve been ground down—like matcha, the kind of green tea that isn’t just steeped and tossed, but pulverized into a fine, vivid powder. It’s the most concentrated form. Potent. No longer a leaf, but something entirely transformed. Still itself, just…changed through the breaking. And somehow, that breaking is what makes it useful.

Like ashes from a wildfire—ravaging and wild, echoes of a life lived before, drifting down in the shape of a leaf. It looked whole as it fell. But the moment it was caught, it shattered, charred fragments in open hands. What once held shape is now nearly unrecognizable.

Like a mere mortal before a Holy God—without words—mute before Him. Quieted in pure reverence...and ultimately, fear. Not fear like I’m scared. Fear as in respect. Who am I to even dare approach a holy and perfect God?

This song popped up. Zing. Played it again. Zing. Played it again. Listened to it four times through.

​Oh God by Citizens​

​This part of the song…every time I listen it feels like the culmination of everything in my life right now. I could play this last minute on repeat, over and over and over.

My life hasn’t hit 5:26 just yet. I’m waiting for that peace. Longing for it. But I’m not there yet.

A Story Etched Into Me

July 2002 forever changed my life. God moved in powerful ways while I was on a mission trip (for the second time) with my youth group. I had just finished my sophomore year of high school when we traveled to the Yucatán Peninsula in Mexico. The trip lasted about 7–10 days, and those days were revolutionary for me.

There were things I saw and experienced that I couldn’t fully process at the time: moments that shook me, quieted me, and ultimately marked me. I just didn’t know how to name them yet.

Once we were back home, my youth leader organized an event at our church so we could share with the congregation what we’d seen, done, and learned. They had supported us financially and in prayer, and this was our way of honoring that investment. For the inquiring minds wondering what church I attended: this was at the church I grew up in, “First Pres” (a Presbyterian church). Though I haven’t been a member there since high school, it still holds a sacred place in my memory. Some of my most foundational moments with God happened during my time as a youth there.

Looking back now, I realize it was because of that event—being asked to reflect, to speak, to actually put into words what had just happened—that I was able to see it all so clearly. That’s when the two big takeaways really locked in for me:

1. Fear God.
2. Trust God.

That presentation gave shape to the swirl of emotion and experience I’d just walked through. It forced me to name what I hadn’t yet processed. And when I stood in front of that congregation, I didn’t tell them about the painting or the cleaning. I told them what God had done in me.

When I came home from that trip, I had a reverence for God I’d never experienced before. I had witnessed Him move in ways I can’t even fully explain...unspeakable moments I shared with my closest friends, when we were just high schoolers and wide open to what God might do.

Yes, we did the classic “mission trip” work: painting, cleaning, fixing, inviting neighbors to special services. But the most life-altering things weren’t the ones I could photograph. They were the ones I had to leave entirely in God’s hands because I simply had no control. I had to trust Him. I had nowhere else to go.

And when it all played out—and those moments became catalytic—the only response I had left was reverence. Awe. Holy fear. To see what God would do...when I simply trusted Him. I’m here, writing this now, because of what happened on that trip.

Even now, as I reflect, I feel speechless. For God to have etched that kind of lesson into my heart at such a young, impressionable age, just sixteen years old, I’m forever grateful.

And I see those lessons again now. Not because I’ve forgotten them...I haven’t. But because God is gently bringing them back into view. Like a whisper. Trust Me. Fear Me. These two work together.

If you’re a parent, know this: your child will trust you most when they hold you in reverence. When they know you love them and also know you are strong enough to handle what they cannot. Those two—trust and reverence—are symbiotic. They build on each other.

Still Learning to Trust

I don’t know what God has for me right now. I just feel myself being ground into powder, burned away to ashes. But I know I can trust Him.

​Relent by Citizens​

(definitely just played this 2x through from this spot I linked to, through the end)

I actually feel at a loss for words for this entry (I know, shocker). I don’t know what God has, but I’ve lived a significant portion of my life with Him, and I know that sometimes, the only thing left to do is wait.

Right now I feel that precipice. That edge. The 11th hour.

But I don’t even know what I’m waiting for. I just…feel it.

So I think I’m just going to wait here a bit.

Thank you to those of you who read. It’s wild to me that you even let me into your inbox. And double thanks to those who reply, it’s like a little nudge to keep going.

From my journal (at Kiln, my Sunday afternoon tradition) on 7/27/2025:

Dear Reader…thank you.

-Just Me[gan]

Did you read this Just Me entry?

PS - I made new phone wallpapers for you. Some from JM#3 (click here) and some for today's entry (here). Just little reminders for your lock screen: something to center you, lift you, or just feel seen by. You can grab them completely free until Monday at 11:59pm MT

If you have any issues or questions downloading these, just shoot me an email and I'll walk you through it...it took me a minute to figure out how the download worked on my phone 😉
​