These are my favorite memories. The sporadic ones, the ones that happen on a whim, the spontaneous, jump-in-the-car-at-midnight ones. These are the moments where life feels solid, like something I can stand on and put all my weight on. Something I can breathe against.
Sunday night we finally had some time, just Brady and I, to spend putting up our Christmas tree. Brady had actually already put the tree up a few days before, on Thanksgiving, but the top of it is slightly crooked (it has been since we first bought it, but we somehow made it work last year). So we're about to start putting lights around it when Brady looks at the tree, looks back at me, and says, "Let's go get a new one. Let's just do it."
Money has been tight ever since we got back from our California trip in September. We're busier than ever. The combination of a full schedule and an empty bank account leads to some very distressed and exhausted people. So, we've had our fair share of arguments. But tonight, this night I'm telling you about, we decided to prioritize our marriage and its memories above anything else. We didn't have a lot of money in the bank, but our bills for the month were already paid and, you know what? IT'S CHRISTMAS! We love Christmas. And we love each other.
So we hopped in the car at nine o' clock on a Sunday night, even though we both had to work early in the morning, and we went hunting for our perfect tree. We tried Lowe's but they were closed. We didn't let that stop us. We drove further. We went to Target and we found the one! So full and beautiful. It was on sale for $103.99, which was more than either of us wanted to spend. Again, Brady says, "Let's do it." And I loved him for it.
We take it to the register and walk out with a receipt for $67.08. Not sure how it was on sale even more or of it was simply a Christmas miracle. Either way, we drove home, holding hands, and Brady spent the rest of the evening perfecting the branches.
And I don't care how simple or silly this story may seem. These are the moments I live for. The simple, the quiet, the risk-taking moments. The ones that don't boast, that aren't planned out perfectly, that aren't organized even in the least bit. The ones that mimic love completely: raw, vulnerable, spontaneous, loyal, passionate. The ones where love shines as bright as the star on top of the Christmas tree; boldly, profoundly, symbolically. The ones where love is more important than sleep, money, a clean house, laundry, our own selfish desires. The ones where love wins.
Happy Thanksgiving. I'm grateful for it all.
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Friday, November 3, 2017
Donut be discouraged
I'm feeling so frazzled today, but it's more than that. I'm exhausted. The kind of exhausted that wears down your bones and seeps into your soul and makes you feel permanently trapped. I don't know what to do. There's certainly no end in sight. I'm working a full-time job, a part-time job in ministry (which we all know is impossible, so basically I'm working another full-time job), and I'm in school full-time online. I don't know why I thought I could do it all. I'm just trying to be the best person that I can be in order to provide as much as I can for my future family. But if my brightness dims in the process, if I lose part of who I am, is it even worth it?
I'm scared to talk to anyone about it. Brady is exhausted too. I don't want to stress him out even more or make him more tired. I know he gets frustrated at me for not being able to handle it all. Pastor Justin really stresses me out and makes me feel afraid. Anytime I even slightly disagree with him, he freaks out. I know that isn't a good sign, but I don't want to lose our relationship. I think we're losing it anyway, though, because I'm crawling more and more into my shell. I know I need to just be honest, but I'm afraid that he'll get angry, which will push me away even further. My mom has never been a person that I can open up to. My dad hasn't been in a long, long time.
I feel alone. I don't feel depressed. I don't feel hopeless. I believe that there is always hope. It's like staring into a mirror for the first time in a long time. I just see exactly where I'm standing. And I know I won't stand here forever. But right now, it feels difficult to move.
Well, I do have some good news. I think I just ate the best donut I've ever had in my life. So, here's to donuts. Donut be discouraged. This too shall pass.
I'm scared to talk to anyone about it. Brady is exhausted too. I don't want to stress him out even more or make him more tired. I know he gets frustrated at me for not being able to handle it all. Pastor Justin really stresses me out and makes me feel afraid. Anytime I even slightly disagree with him, he freaks out. I know that isn't a good sign, but I don't want to lose our relationship. I think we're losing it anyway, though, because I'm crawling more and more into my shell. I know I need to just be honest, but I'm afraid that he'll get angry, which will push me away even further. My mom has never been a person that I can open up to. My dad hasn't been in a long, long time.
I feel alone. I don't feel depressed. I don't feel hopeless. I believe that there is always hope. It's like staring into a mirror for the first time in a long time. I just see exactly where I'm standing. And I know I won't stand here forever. But right now, it feels difficult to move.
Well, I do have some good news. I think I just ate the best donut I've ever had in my life. So, here's to donuts. Donut be discouraged. This too shall pass.
Sunday, August 13, 2017
Things going on in our nation have been weighing on me heavily for some time now. I know they've been weighing on a lot of us. They've been so heavy, in fact, that I became afraid to speak for fear of not even having enough words or the right words to convey my heart. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to really articulate the pain it causes me to see so much hate displayed so casually.
This morning, Pastor @justin_porter talked about Paul in prison, and how he never said "When I get out of this prison, I will start praising God again." He never said "When I get out of this prison..." at all. He actually said "I want you to know, my dear brothers and sisters, that everything that has happened to me here has helped to spread the Good News. For everyone here, including the whole palace guard, knows that I am in chains because of Christ." (Philippians 1:12-13) Paul knew that his mission did not stop just because he was put in prison. His mission remained the same: love. To love others as Christ had loved him, even those that had put him in chains. His chains became his story. His chains were his victory. He wasn't letting anyone rob him of joy. He praised God in prison the same way he praised him as a free man.
That story seemed to awaken something within me that I believe has been stirring for quite some time. This tiny flicker of a flame that started around the time of the election last year has now been lit and is growing like a wildfire. Because the truth is this: it's NOW or NEVER. Just like Paul knew that there was a very real chance he would die in prison, I know that our days here are numbered, and we have no idea when our last one is. I don't know want to be a person known for being silent about things that matter. Yes, it is true, the Bible tells us that there is a time for everything, "a time to be silent and a time to speak," (Ecclesiastes 3:7), but if we do not choose when to speak and what to speak about, the Bible also states that we are fools. "The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint, and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues." (Proverbs 17:27-28)
You see, as a kid, I never imagined a world where people were scorned for their skin color. It just was totally and completely outside of my realm. My parents never treated anyone differently because of how they looked. For lack of better words, racism was unfathomable to me. I just truly did not believe that it was possible for someone to hold that kind of hate in their heart. It still does not make sense to me. So, I took the first part of that verse, and I thought... "I don't understand this, God, so maybe I should just keep quiet. Maybe I should just continue to love people the same way I always have." But I read the second part of that verse today and I felt like I got punched in the gut. I can no longer be silent. I have been silent for too long, and for that I am sorry. For that I have gone to the Father for forgiveness. The time to speak is NOW, because whether it's hard to believe or not, the truth is that injustice is happening NOW. I do not stand with division. I do not stand with hatred. I do not stand with white supremacy. I do not stand with violence. Jesus could not make it any more clear to me where he stands. And I stand with Him. Always.
Ephesians 2:14-18 says "For Christ himself has brought peace to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people when, in his own body on the cross, he broke down the wall of hostility that separated us. He did this by ending the system of law with its commandments and regulations. He made peace between Jews and Gentiles by creating in himself one new people from the two groups. Together as one body, Christ reconciled both groups to God by means of his death on the cross, and our hostility towards each other was put to death. He brought this Good News of peace to you Gentiles who were far away from him, and peace to the Jews who were near. Now all of us can come to the Father through the same Holy Spirit because of what Christ has done for us."
The Bible repeatedly states that Christ died for all. There is nothing to argue there.
My heart is breaking for those that have been treated unfairly, who have been given less opportunities, who have had to live in fear of being murdered for the color of their skin. My words could never express the sadness I feel in knowing that there are people who treat you that way or the desire I have to change that, but I know that my silence says far more about it than anything else. As Pastor Justin also mentioned this morning, silence implicates acceptance. And I will not accept this. I will fight for you. I will stand with you. I will not be silent.
My words do not feel like enough, but I know that God hears my cries. I will end with this, which is one of my favorite passages of scripture.
"In the last days, the mountain of the Lord's house will be the highest of all--- the most important place on earth. It will be raised above the other hills, and people from all over the world will stream there to worship. People from many nations will come and say, "Come, let is go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of Jacob's God. There he will teach us his ways, and we will walk in his paths. For the Lord's teaching will go out from Zion; his word will go out from Jerusalem. The Lord will mediate between nations and will settle international disputes. They will hammer their swords into plowshares, and their spares into pruning hooks. Nation will no longer fight against nation, nor train for war anymore." Isaiah 2:1-4
The image of worshipping with brothers and sisters in Christ of all different skin colors and all different backgrounds and all different personalities.... it makes my heart swell with joy that is unexplainable and uncontainable. I know that day is coming, so I will hold to that hope. And until then, I will not be silent. I will speak out against hatred. I will speak for love. It's now or never.
This morning, Pastor @justin_porter talked about Paul in prison, and how he never said "When I get out of this prison, I will start praising God again." He never said "When I get out of this prison..." at all. He actually said "I want you to know, my dear brothers and sisters, that everything that has happened to me here has helped to spread the Good News. For everyone here, including the whole palace guard, knows that I am in chains because of Christ." (Philippians 1:12-13) Paul knew that his mission did not stop just because he was put in prison. His mission remained the same: love. To love others as Christ had loved him, even those that had put him in chains. His chains became his story. His chains were his victory. He wasn't letting anyone rob him of joy. He praised God in prison the same way he praised him as a free man.
That story seemed to awaken something within me that I believe has been stirring for quite some time. This tiny flicker of a flame that started around the time of the election last year has now been lit and is growing like a wildfire. Because the truth is this: it's NOW or NEVER. Just like Paul knew that there was a very real chance he would die in prison, I know that our days here are numbered, and we have no idea when our last one is. I don't know want to be a person known for being silent about things that matter. Yes, it is true, the Bible tells us that there is a time for everything, "a time to be silent and a time to speak," (Ecclesiastes 3:7), but if we do not choose when to speak and what to speak about, the Bible also states that we are fools. "The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint, and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues." (Proverbs 17:27-28)
You see, as a kid, I never imagined a world where people were scorned for their skin color. It just was totally and completely outside of my realm. My parents never treated anyone differently because of how they looked. For lack of better words, racism was unfathomable to me. I just truly did not believe that it was possible for someone to hold that kind of hate in their heart. It still does not make sense to me. So, I took the first part of that verse, and I thought... "I don't understand this, God, so maybe I should just keep quiet. Maybe I should just continue to love people the same way I always have." But I read the second part of that verse today and I felt like I got punched in the gut. I can no longer be silent. I have been silent for too long, and for that I am sorry. For that I have gone to the Father for forgiveness. The time to speak is NOW, because whether it's hard to believe or not, the truth is that injustice is happening NOW. I do not stand with division. I do not stand with hatred. I do not stand with white supremacy. I do not stand with violence. Jesus could not make it any more clear to me where he stands. And I stand with Him. Always.
Ephesians 2:14-18 says "For Christ himself has brought peace to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people when, in his own body on the cross, he broke down the wall of hostility that separated us. He did this by ending the system of law with its commandments and regulations. He made peace between Jews and Gentiles by creating in himself one new people from the two groups. Together as one body, Christ reconciled both groups to God by means of his death on the cross, and our hostility towards each other was put to death. He brought this Good News of peace to you Gentiles who were far away from him, and peace to the Jews who were near. Now all of us can come to the Father through the same Holy Spirit because of what Christ has done for us."
The Bible repeatedly states that Christ died for all. There is nothing to argue there.
My heart is breaking for those that have been treated unfairly, who have been given less opportunities, who have had to live in fear of being murdered for the color of their skin. My words could never express the sadness I feel in knowing that there are people who treat you that way or the desire I have to change that, but I know that my silence says far more about it than anything else. As Pastor Justin also mentioned this morning, silence implicates acceptance. And I will not accept this. I will fight for you. I will stand with you. I will not be silent.
My words do not feel like enough, but I know that God hears my cries. I will end with this, which is one of my favorite passages of scripture.
"In the last days, the mountain of the Lord's house will be the highest of all--- the most important place on earth. It will be raised above the other hills, and people from all over the world will stream there to worship. People from many nations will come and say, "Come, let is go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of Jacob's God. There he will teach us his ways, and we will walk in his paths. For the Lord's teaching will go out from Zion; his word will go out from Jerusalem. The Lord will mediate between nations and will settle international disputes. They will hammer their swords into plowshares, and their spares into pruning hooks. Nation will no longer fight against nation, nor train for war anymore." Isaiah 2:1-4
The image of worshipping with brothers and sisters in Christ of all different skin colors and all different backgrounds and all different personalities.... it makes my heart swell with joy that is unexplainable and uncontainable. I know that day is coming, so I will hold to that hope. And until then, I will not be silent. I will speak out against hatred. I will speak for love. It's now or never.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
Like Old Times
Riding in the back with the windows down
Hair's all a mess, tangles flying 'round and 'round
But I don't care
Free as can be with a window seat
They keep yelling but not at me
So I don't care
I close my eyes to think about
What my life has become now
And I wonder how I got away so fast
From all the heartache that came with
Picking up the mess you left
No one knows what's really haunting me
Like old times
Like old times
Memories fade but they do not leave
All those times you were ashamed of me
I say I don't care
I can't remember the day you left
Not a single thing sticks out to me
Would you even care?
I close my eyes to think about
What my life has become now
And I wonder how I got away so fast
From all the heartache that came with
Picking up the mess you left
No one knows what's really haunting me
Like old times
Like old times
There were good times, yes, I know
But they were buried under stone
Now I'm grasping for what's left of what made me
But it seems to me
When I close my eyes and I think about
What my life has become now
I know exactly why I got away so fast
From all the heartache that came with
Picking up the mess you left
I know exactly what it is that's haunting me
It's those old times
Riding in the back with the windows down
Hair's all a mess, tangles flying round and round
But I don't care
Like old times
Like old times
Hair's all a mess, tangles flying 'round and 'round
But I don't care
Free as can be with a window seat
They keep yelling but not at me
So I don't care
I close my eyes to think about
What my life has become now
And I wonder how I got away so fast
From all the heartache that came with
Picking up the mess you left
No one knows what's really haunting me
Like old times
Like old times
Memories fade but they do not leave
All those times you were ashamed of me
I say I don't care
I can't remember the day you left
Not a single thing sticks out to me
Would you even care?
I close my eyes to think about
What my life has become now
And I wonder how I got away so fast
From all the heartache that came with
Picking up the mess you left
No one knows what's really haunting me
Like old times
Like old times
There were good times, yes, I know
But they were buried under stone
Now I'm grasping for what's left of what made me
But it seems to me
When I close my eyes and I think about
What my life has become now
I know exactly why I got away so fast
From all the heartache that came with
Picking up the mess you left
I know exactly what it is that's haunting me
It's those old times
Riding in the back with the windows down
Hair's all a mess, tangles flying round and round
But I don't care
Like old times
Like old times
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Longing
Sometimes, the longing deep within me scares me. This heart beating inside my chest feels like an animal in a cage, trying its damnedest to break free. I'm scared of the desires that I have: to see the world, every inch of it, to meet thousands of people and know their stories, to live a hundred different lives in one lifetime. I want to be a bookstore owner in London. I want to be a writer in Paris. I want to be a fashion blogger in NYC. I want to be a history professor in Cali. I want to be an actress in LA. I want to be the founder of a non-profit that helps children without access to education learn to read and have a house in Switzerland. I want to walk a hundred different streets and watch a hundred different sunsets in a hundred different cities.
My fascination with life is sometimes too great of a burden to bear.
I must focus my love towards the Creator and not the creation. God, help me.
My fascination with life is sometimes too great of a burden to bear.
I must focus my love towards the Creator and not the creation. God, help me.
I had quite an interesting weekend. I call it interesting because I'm really not sure what else to call it. I'm really not sure how I feel about it. I feel a lot of things, but mostly numb. Like I've spent so many years in the arctic that the cold doesn't really phase me anymore. Except there are moments when a gust of wind pelts me in the face and I don't feel numb anymore. I feel like I might explode.
It's hard to get through those moments. It's like wading through a river but the mud is so thick and it clings to my shoes, making it hard for me to pick my feet up and make it back to dry land. In those moments, it feels really difficult. When I'm on dry land, though, I feel okay. I sometimes even feel strong.
My little brother got married on Saturday. My little brother. He got married.
It's strange. You live with someone for eighteen years (or something like that, depending on your situation, but this is probably the average) and then all the sudden, you'll never live together again. It feels so sad. I know that it isn't, not really, but it feels that way sometimes, when you're back in a room together and you're making jokes that only the two of you will understand and you just wish that you could go back to having side-by-side bedrooms so that you could run over and show them the new song you found whenever you wanted to and laying on the living room floor every Christmas eve, eating apple crisp that Mom made before she went rogue, or maybe Dad made it because I can't really remember a time when Mom wasn't rogue, watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. You want to go back to that just for a few minutes, so you can really appreciate it, because back then you were too young to understand that you needed to be paying attention.
The thing is, I was very aware as a kid. I paid too much attention. I was too worried about NOT remembering the moments, not holding on to the good stuff, I think because there was little of it, that instead of just enjoying the moment, I was too busy trying too hard to enjoy the moment. Not every moment was like that, but there were many. So now, looking back, I see how my obsession with creating good memories is actually what makes it hard for me to distinguish what was actually good and what I forced to be good in my mind. Maybe it was my way of protecting myself. I think it was.
So, anyway, my brother got married. He still looks and acts like my brother, but now he's more than just my brother. He's a husband. I wonder if he thought about this when I got married, but I know the answer is probably no. He does not over-analyze. Ever. He does not worry. He just lives. Why can't I be that way too?
My mom called me while I was on my way to the rehearsal dinner. She screamed at me for ten minutes straight. I let her scream. She was the one who hung up. She told me how horrible of a person I was for going. I still went. She has no idea how hard this whole thing was for me. I don't think that she cares. It isn't my fault that my stepmother didn't invite her. I have always had to pay for the destruction of my parent's relationship. I have always had to take the beating when one of them feels like punching each other. I have always been the one to do the clean-up. I have always been the one to continue to be nice even with my bruises. And I have always been the one to keep getting walked on. How can I always be the one walked on, yet always have to be the first to apologize?
She still came to the wedding, although I'm not sure why, because she refused to speak to anyone. I don't want to think this, but that makes me think that she came just to ruin Laban's day. And that infuriates me. I went up to her to say hello and she wouldn't look at me. I still wasn't sure what I possibly could have done wrong so I just walked away. Then Laban asked me to hand her and her mother their corsages, and I did. She said she didn't want it and threw it down. I walked away again. I was just so tired. So tired of being the one to stand there and take the blows.
Right before Laban walked down the aisle to stand in his place and wait for his bride, he said "If she is going to come here and act like that on my wedding day, then fuck her."
I don't like to use that word, but I'm trying to be honest in these posts so that in the future I know exactly what has happened.
All I could muster up the strength to say was "Today is about you and Bailey."
I didn't defend my mom. I couldn't. There was nothing good to defend in that moment.
I get punished by my mom if I associate myself with my stepmom. I get punished by stepmom if I associate myself with my mom. And either way, it seems to me, my dad just doesn't love me the way that I thought he did when I was younger. The way that I need him to. Because he is always the one asking me to do the mending, the reaching out, the initiation. All the hard work, basically. He says it is because he knows I can handle it. But what if I can't?
I'm tired. I'm just so tired. In some ways, though, I feel stronger than I ever have been. How can I feel both ways at once? Maybe I feel stronger, but I wonder if the strength is enough.
I don't know Bailey very well, but she seems very sweet. And my brother, well, he means everything to me. He is part of the one thing in my childhood that was purely and wholly good: my brothers. I just want us all to end up on the side of love that is good and stays good. I just want us to have a life that is good. Isn't that all that anybody really wants?
It's hard to get through those moments. It's like wading through a river but the mud is so thick and it clings to my shoes, making it hard for me to pick my feet up and make it back to dry land. In those moments, it feels really difficult. When I'm on dry land, though, I feel okay. I sometimes even feel strong.
My little brother got married on Saturday. My little brother. He got married.
It's strange. You live with someone for eighteen years (or something like that, depending on your situation, but this is probably the average) and then all the sudden, you'll never live together again. It feels so sad. I know that it isn't, not really, but it feels that way sometimes, when you're back in a room together and you're making jokes that only the two of you will understand and you just wish that you could go back to having side-by-side bedrooms so that you could run over and show them the new song you found whenever you wanted to and laying on the living room floor every Christmas eve, eating apple crisp that Mom made before she went rogue, or maybe Dad made it because I can't really remember a time when Mom wasn't rogue, watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. You want to go back to that just for a few minutes, so you can really appreciate it, because back then you were too young to understand that you needed to be paying attention.
The thing is, I was very aware as a kid. I paid too much attention. I was too worried about NOT remembering the moments, not holding on to the good stuff, I think because there was little of it, that instead of just enjoying the moment, I was too busy trying too hard to enjoy the moment. Not every moment was like that, but there were many. So now, looking back, I see how my obsession with creating good memories is actually what makes it hard for me to distinguish what was actually good and what I forced to be good in my mind. Maybe it was my way of protecting myself. I think it was.
So, anyway, my brother got married. He still looks and acts like my brother, but now he's more than just my brother. He's a husband. I wonder if he thought about this when I got married, but I know the answer is probably no. He does not over-analyze. Ever. He does not worry. He just lives. Why can't I be that way too?
My mom called me while I was on my way to the rehearsal dinner. She screamed at me for ten minutes straight. I let her scream. She was the one who hung up. She told me how horrible of a person I was for going. I still went. She has no idea how hard this whole thing was for me. I don't think that she cares. It isn't my fault that my stepmother didn't invite her. I have always had to pay for the destruction of my parent's relationship. I have always had to take the beating when one of them feels like punching each other. I have always been the one to do the clean-up. I have always been the one to continue to be nice even with my bruises. And I have always been the one to keep getting walked on. How can I always be the one walked on, yet always have to be the first to apologize?
She still came to the wedding, although I'm not sure why, because she refused to speak to anyone. I don't want to think this, but that makes me think that she came just to ruin Laban's day. And that infuriates me. I went up to her to say hello and she wouldn't look at me. I still wasn't sure what I possibly could have done wrong so I just walked away. Then Laban asked me to hand her and her mother their corsages, and I did. She said she didn't want it and threw it down. I walked away again. I was just so tired. So tired of being the one to stand there and take the blows.
Right before Laban walked down the aisle to stand in his place and wait for his bride, he said "If she is going to come here and act like that on my wedding day, then fuck her."
I don't like to use that word, but I'm trying to be honest in these posts so that in the future I know exactly what has happened.
All I could muster up the strength to say was "Today is about you and Bailey."
I didn't defend my mom. I couldn't. There was nothing good to defend in that moment.
I get punished by my mom if I associate myself with my stepmom. I get punished by stepmom if I associate myself with my mom. And either way, it seems to me, my dad just doesn't love me the way that I thought he did when I was younger. The way that I need him to. Because he is always the one asking me to do the mending, the reaching out, the initiation. All the hard work, basically. He says it is because he knows I can handle it. But what if I can't?
I'm tired. I'm just so tired. In some ways, though, I feel stronger than I ever have been. How can I feel both ways at once? Maybe I feel stronger, but I wonder if the strength is enough.
I don't know Bailey very well, but she seems very sweet. And my brother, well, he means everything to me. He is part of the one thing in my childhood that was purely and wholly good: my brothers. I just want us all to end up on the side of love that is good and stays good. I just want us to have a life that is good. Isn't that all that anybody really wants?
Friday, August 4, 2017
Spiritual beings
There is a quote calendar on my desk that one of the companies who bribes us with silly free stuff like quote calendars to try and make us use their services gave to us and today's quote was this:
"We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey." (Stephen Covey)
My co-worker, Meredith, saw it and said, "What the hell does that even mean? That's stupid."
And it made me extremely sad.
It made me sad because I know exactly what it means. I know that I wasn't made for earth. I know that heaven is my home. I know that I am a citizen of the Kingdom of God. But I don't think Meredith does. What's really sad is that she thinks she does. I want her to get it. I want her to understand. I want her heart to know what mine knows.
I want people to really, really get it. Deep down in their bones. That they're going to live forever. That they were created to be in a relationship with their Creator. That they are destined for eternity, and have been from the beginning of time. That there is a God who loves them so uniquely that He gave His only son, who is a spiritual being that came down to earth to walk this human journey just like us, so that He could die for us, wash us of our sins, and return to heaven at the right-hand of God, waiting for us to return. That he gave us the Holy Spirit to live IN us and guide us through this sometimes hellish life.
I long for people to know that there is more. They were made for more than just dust to dust.
"We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey." (Stephen Covey)
My co-worker, Meredith, saw it and said, "What the hell does that even mean? That's stupid."
And it made me extremely sad.
It made me sad because I know exactly what it means. I know that I wasn't made for earth. I know that heaven is my home. I know that I am a citizen of the Kingdom of God. But I don't think Meredith does. What's really sad is that she thinks she does. I want her to get it. I want her to understand. I want her heart to know what mine knows.
I want people to really, really get it. Deep down in their bones. That they're going to live forever. That they were created to be in a relationship with their Creator. That they are destined for eternity, and have been from the beginning of time. That there is a God who loves them so uniquely that He gave His only son, who is a spiritual being that came down to earth to walk this human journey just like us, so that He could die for us, wash us of our sins, and return to heaven at the right-hand of God, waiting for us to return. That he gave us the Holy Spirit to live IN us and guide us through this sometimes hellish life.
I long for people to know that there is more. They were made for more than just dust to dust.
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
Right Before Rain
I love the way the world looks right before it rains. Most people complain that it's depressing, but I find it to be quite the opposite for me. I find it calming. Soothing, even.
The sky seems to be sleepy, but determined, knowing what lies ahead and resting in its fate. People are closing their doors, getting in their cars, trying to get home before it starts to pour. Blinds close. Windows shut. Animals find shelter beneath trees or in the ground.
And then we wait. We rest. We find things to keep us occupied until the storm passes.
That's the beautiful part to me. Right before it rains, we finally get to rest. We have to rest. We accept that it's time to rest. And to be frank, we're just not very good at that any other time. Rain, which bothers most everyone else, is a blessing to me. It's a way for God to pat us on the back, kiss us on the forehead, and tuck us in. It's a way for Him to do what He does best: take all the heavy stuff from out of our hands and off of our backs, and let us stop for a moment and take a break. We really should give Him all of that stuff all the time, but the truth is, we don't. So he finds ways to gently force us to give up control. Like rain.
Isn't that lovely? He found a way to get us to choose to rest. He found a way to still let us choose.
And the best part is this: while we get some rest, we're also growing, and so is everything around us. The best part is that God could have done it anyway He well pleased. He could've created the world and its' self-sustaining functions, like rain, in a totally different way that didn't include us. But that's not how God is. He's always thinking of us. He knew that we wouldn't take time to just be, so he used rain as a way not only to sustain the earth but to sustain our souls. Our souls get weary, and they need time to recuperate from the pain and dig for the joy that so often gets buried, and when it rains...
When it rains, we rest.
Right before rain, I can feel the love of a Father who knows that I just need some time to rest.
Right before rain, I am thankful.
Let it pour.
The sky seems to be sleepy, but determined, knowing what lies ahead and resting in its fate. People are closing their doors, getting in their cars, trying to get home before it starts to pour. Blinds close. Windows shut. Animals find shelter beneath trees or in the ground.
And then we wait. We rest. We find things to keep us occupied until the storm passes.
That's the beautiful part to me. Right before it rains, we finally get to rest. We have to rest. We accept that it's time to rest. And to be frank, we're just not very good at that any other time. Rain, which bothers most everyone else, is a blessing to me. It's a way for God to pat us on the back, kiss us on the forehead, and tuck us in. It's a way for Him to do what He does best: take all the heavy stuff from out of our hands and off of our backs, and let us stop for a moment and take a break. We really should give Him all of that stuff all the time, but the truth is, we don't. So he finds ways to gently force us to give up control. Like rain.
Isn't that lovely? He found a way to get us to choose to rest. He found a way to still let us choose.
And the best part is this: while we get some rest, we're also growing, and so is everything around us. The best part is that God could have done it anyway He well pleased. He could've created the world and its' self-sustaining functions, like rain, in a totally different way that didn't include us. But that's not how God is. He's always thinking of us. He knew that we wouldn't take time to just be, so he used rain as a way not only to sustain the earth but to sustain our souls. Our souls get weary, and they need time to recuperate from the pain and dig for the joy that so often gets buried, and when it rains...
When it rains, we rest.
Right before rain, I can feel the love of a Father who knows that I just need some time to rest.
Right before rain, I am thankful.
Let it pour.
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Another August
I had always heard as a little girl, as I'm sure most of you did, that time moves more and more quickly the older you get. The thing is, they were right. It does. What they don't tell you is that the hardest part is not coping with the fast pace but making sure that you make it count. Savoring the right moments and letting go of the bitter ones, not letting them overshadow the good ones, the great ones even, like weeds in a garden that was once beautiful or at least had the potential to be.
The thing about a garden is, weeds are going to come. It's just a fact. All of the best gardens have had weeds in them. The most beautiful gardens are not beautiful by chance. They're beautiful because someone spends a lot of time tending to them, caring for them, working hard on them.
We're all a lot like gardens. We could grow anything we want to inside of ourselves. We could cultivate peace, joy, compassion... or we could let the bitterness sink deep into our roots and destroy everything that had been planted.
Don't let the weeds take over. Tend to yourself. Care for yourself. Work hard on yourself. You've got one garden. Make it beautiful.
The thing about a garden is, weeds are going to come. It's just a fact. All of the best gardens have had weeds in them. The most beautiful gardens are not beautiful by chance. They're beautiful because someone spends a lot of time tending to them, caring for them, working hard on them.
We're all a lot like gardens. We could grow anything we want to inside of ourselves. We could cultivate peace, joy, compassion... or we could let the bitterness sink deep into our roots and destroy everything that had been planted.
Don't let the weeds take over. Tend to yourself. Care for yourself. Work hard on yourself. You've got one garden. Make it beautiful.
Growing Up Is Ugly
I need somewhere to vent to God and I think I'll use this as the outlet. I know I could just talk to Him out loud, and I do, but sometimes the words just flow so much easier when I write them. It's like there is a direct line from my heart to the keyboard or the pencil or pen and it just flows flows flows like a river out of me. A muddy river, but a river nonetheless.
I should have kept writing. In these months, now years, between my engagement and now having been married for over a year... so much has happened, as you would expect. So much has happened inside of me, so much has happened around me, so much has happened to me, so much has happened because of me, so much has happened in spite of me. Just so much. I don't even know where to start or how to explain what all I feel.
When you grow up, you start to see things that you wish you didn't that were actually there all along. I guess that's what innocence is. Not being able to see something that's right in front of you. The thing is, growing up is the process where you start to see really ugly things inside of you, so you start to hide those parts of you, like Adam and Eve did in the garden. Like the more you really know yourself the more uncomfortable you are. The problem is, just like with Adam and Eve, we weren't meant to live like that. So everybody is uncomfortable and it just gets overwhelming and so people start to go a little crazy because it's just too much.
That's a really silly diagnosis of what is wrong with the world, but it makes sense in my head.
I don't have any kids yet, but I hope that one day I will, and I already think about them daily. I already feel like I love them, but I know that this love I feel right now will be nothing in comparison to how I feel when they actually exist. Still, I feel this warm place in my heart that they already totally encompass. And when I think about them, which is often, I think about how I want them to know me. Really know me. I don't want to be a person that hides who I am, even the ugly parts. I want to be honest. I want them to feel like they are safe with me because they know all there is to know- no secrets, no buried mistakes that I won't answer questions about, no moment where they ever feel like they have to question who I am or what kind of decision I would make. I want them to have it all, up front. All of who I am. That way, if they choose to love me the way that I hope they do, I'll know that they really, really love me. ME. Not just me as their mom but me as a person, you know? They'll love me fully and wholly because they KNOW me fully and wholly.
I didn't get that with my parents. Not at all. And it really messed with me. Still does. And it really messes with my brothers.
I hear these stories about my mom and my dad from other people and honestly, I feel like in some ways, they are both strangers to me. There are things they have done that I don't know the truth about. I'm not really certain who is the bad guy and who is the good guy. I think I know, deep down in my heart, that you can't really label people as "bad" or "good." It's just not that simple. But my mind just won't let it rest. It's like I'm grasping for something completely out of reach, like my brain desperately needs for this to be black and white even though I know it never will be. It would be way too easy that way. If I could just know who is who, which is which, the victim and the victor, maybe it wouldn't be so damn hard to love them both equally. Maybe it would make more sense. Maybe I could understand.
I just don't understand how you can love someone and then all the sudden you don't and you "never really did." Were you, are you, lying to yourselves... or were you, are you, lying to us? What is the truth? Who are you, Mom? Who are you, Dad? Do you really love me? Or do you even know what love is?
I should have kept writing. In these months, now years, between my engagement and now having been married for over a year... so much has happened, as you would expect. So much has happened inside of me, so much has happened around me, so much has happened to me, so much has happened because of me, so much has happened in spite of me. Just so much. I don't even know where to start or how to explain what all I feel.
When you grow up, you start to see things that you wish you didn't that were actually there all along. I guess that's what innocence is. Not being able to see something that's right in front of you. The thing is, growing up is the process where you start to see really ugly things inside of you, so you start to hide those parts of you, like Adam and Eve did in the garden. Like the more you really know yourself the more uncomfortable you are. The problem is, just like with Adam and Eve, we weren't meant to live like that. So everybody is uncomfortable and it just gets overwhelming and so people start to go a little crazy because it's just too much.
That's a really silly diagnosis of what is wrong with the world, but it makes sense in my head.
I don't have any kids yet, but I hope that one day I will, and I already think about them daily. I already feel like I love them, but I know that this love I feel right now will be nothing in comparison to how I feel when they actually exist. Still, I feel this warm place in my heart that they already totally encompass. And when I think about them, which is often, I think about how I want them to know me. Really know me. I don't want to be a person that hides who I am, even the ugly parts. I want to be honest. I want them to feel like they are safe with me because they know all there is to know- no secrets, no buried mistakes that I won't answer questions about, no moment where they ever feel like they have to question who I am or what kind of decision I would make. I want them to have it all, up front. All of who I am. That way, if they choose to love me the way that I hope they do, I'll know that they really, really love me. ME. Not just me as their mom but me as a person, you know? They'll love me fully and wholly because they KNOW me fully and wholly.
I didn't get that with my parents. Not at all. And it really messed with me. Still does. And it really messes with my brothers.
I hear these stories about my mom and my dad from other people and honestly, I feel like in some ways, they are both strangers to me. There are things they have done that I don't know the truth about. I'm not really certain who is the bad guy and who is the good guy. I think I know, deep down in my heart, that you can't really label people as "bad" or "good." It's just not that simple. But my mind just won't let it rest. It's like I'm grasping for something completely out of reach, like my brain desperately needs for this to be black and white even though I know it never will be. It would be way too easy that way. If I could just know who is who, which is which, the victim and the victor, maybe it wouldn't be so damn hard to love them both equally. Maybe it would make more sense. Maybe I could understand.
I just don't understand how you can love someone and then all the sudden you don't and you "never really did." Were you, are you, lying to yourselves... or were you, are you, lying to us? What is the truth? Who are you, Mom? Who are you, Dad? Do you really love me? Or do you even know what love is?
I love the way the sun shines in through a window. It's the simplest thing, yet it is so beautiful to me. A mixture of light and warmth. I don't know what it is about it, but it just makes me feel overwhelmed with gratitude. It makes me feel infinite for a moment. I realize that I'm not, my body is not, but my soul is. And when I think about that, I feel scared and excited all at the same time.
2017
- Listen to more music. Music is, in my opinion, one of God's greatest gifts to humanity. Discover different sounds, different lyrics, the cry of many different hearts.
- Read 100 books. Short stories, books of poetry, whatever it may be... read 100.
- Actually give a shit about your health. Schedule appointment at a family practice, dermatology, and optometrist. EAT BREAKFAST EVERY MORNING. Drink more water. Go running. Do yoga. Lift weights (small ones... but weights nonetheless.)
- Get up at least an hour early. Read your bible. Have some me time. Clean up a little bit before going to work. Journal/blog.
- MEAL PLAN. Sunday night: go through pantry and figure out what meals you can make for the week, create grocery list, be Betty Crocker. Bam.
- BLOG! Get back to it girl. You've got a story to tell.
-Random acts of kindness. Spread joy. Be more giving.
-Floss every day! #flossy
- Have more girl time with Godly girlfriends.
-Clean up a little bit every evening. Don't leave things laying out, even small things like necklaces, towels, etc. Put everything back in its designated place when you're done using it.
-Get to work early. Get very organized. Keep up with prior-authorizations better. Create specific binders for prior-auths, crystal reports, PTs, etc.
- Read 100 books. Short stories, books of poetry, whatever it may be... read 100.
- Actually give a shit about your health. Schedule appointment at a family practice, dermatology, and optometrist. EAT BREAKFAST EVERY MORNING. Drink more water. Go running. Do yoga. Lift weights (small ones... but weights nonetheless.)
- Get up at least an hour early. Read your bible. Have some me time. Clean up a little bit before going to work. Journal/blog.
- MEAL PLAN. Sunday night: go through pantry and figure out what meals you can make for the week, create grocery list, be Betty Crocker. Bam.
- BLOG! Get back to it girl. You've got a story to tell.
-Random acts of kindness. Spread joy. Be more giving.
-Floss every day! #flossy
- Have more girl time with Godly girlfriends.
-Clean up a little bit every evening. Don't leave things laying out, even small things like necklaces, towels, etc. Put everything back in its designated place when you're done using it.
-Get to work early. Get very organized. Keep up with prior-authorizations better. Create specific binders for prior-auths, crystal reports, PTs, etc.
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