On being a beach baby

I am a joyful person.

In general, I am smiling and giggling and causing a scene in public as I laugh out loud about silly things.

Being a joyful person doesn't mean I am always happy. If you have been following my journey for a while, you know that I went through one hell of a break up two years ago. Well, today I found out that he is getting married in two weeks. Maybe other people heal faster than me or whatever, but this month has been so sad for me. Maybe other people are quicker on the rebound and then never feel emotionally invested anymore- I am not one of those people. Today, I was wrecked. I wanted a moment of honest and bravery with myself so, I took these: 

Here is the deal, following Jesus doesn't always feel good. Being a disciple doesn't equate with constant sunshine and rainbows on cloudy days. The Bible is filled with people crying out to the Father over and over and over again to just deliver them from their sorrow. Not their circumstances- their emotions.

The thing is, I am loving life in this season. I permanently smell like sunscreen, I basically never wear make up, and I get to go to the beach on Monday's just because I have the day free. I love it all here, the humidity, the sand, the brightness of the sun (it is brighter here, I swear!), but that doesn't mean that the things that make me sad have disappeared.

I think that it is very easy, and very dangerous, to pretend on social media outlets that life is always awesome. We all know the social media person I am referring to. That person who is traveling the world and always wearing the perfect outfit and always choose the exact right filters and then OOPS! they met their soul-mate and now they are traveling the world with their soul-mate and suddenly they have 2.5 perfect toe-headed children and the cutest little date nights and weekend trips to London and they are HAPPY and they are WHOLE. Here is the truth, that isn't what my life is like. That isn't my reality. My reality is editing pictures maybe well of adventures that may or may not have happened that day and posting a comment that may or may not be joyful, but I cannot and will not pretend to be shooting rainbows out of my butt when it just isn't happening that day. 

My life is a series of ups and downs and ins and outs and I am SO THANKFUL. Pain is not weakness. Pain is not a marker of mistakes. Pain is a marker of LIFE. Pain looks life and the face and says, "YOU DIDN'T WIN!" Pain is a punch in the face to all the silly perceptions of reality we create for ourselves. Pain doesn't make you less whole. Pain is holy. 

King David is known for all time as "a man after God's own heart." If you aren't a Christian, basically, this means that David and God were tight. They were bros for sure. David did mega-messed up stuff and God still loved the poopcrap out of him. Here is something you might not know about David. HE WAS SAD SOMETIMES. Not just sometimes, actually. He was sad a lot and when he was sad, he would talk with his pal God about it. Here is my favorite example: 

Psalm 42

To the Chief Musician. A skillful song, or a didactic or reflective poem, of the sons of Korah.

1 As the hart (this means deer) pants and longs for the water brooks, so I pant and long for You, O God.

2 My inner self thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God?

3 My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me all day long, Where is your God?

4 These things I [earnestly] remember and pour myself out within me: how I went slowly before the throng and led them in procession to the house of God [like a bandmaster before his band, timing the steps to the sound of music and the chant of song], with the voice of shouting and praise, a throng keeping festival.

5 Why are you cast down, O my inner self? And why should you moan over me and be disquieted within me? Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall yet praise Him, my Help and my God.

6 O my God, my life is cast down upon me [and I find the burden more than I can bear]; therefore will I [earnestly] remember You from the land of the Jordan [River] and the [summits of Mount] Hermon, from the little mountain Mizar.

7 [Roaring] deep calls to [roaring] deep at the thunder of Your waterspouts; all Your breakers and Your rolling waves have gone over me.

8 Yet the Lord will command His loving-kindness in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me, a prayer to the God of my life.

9 I will say to God my Rock, Why have You forgotten me? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?

10 As with a sword [crushing] in my bones, my enemies taunt and reproach me, while they say continually to me, Where is your God?

11 Why are you cast down, O my inner self? And why should you moan over me and be disquieted within me? Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall yet praise Him, Who is the help of my countenance, and my God.

The whole Psalm is THE BOMB, but there are two verses that I would like to highlight here. First, "My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me all day long, Where is your God?" I think over the years of walking with Jesus, this is the most common guilt-trip I'm given: if you love God so much, why are you sad? I kinda want to punch those people in the face. It isn't always happy. It has NEVER always been happy. Anyone remember Adam and Eve? I mean, hello, they pretty much blew it immediately.

For a Christian, I think that there is a stigma that if you have depression or anxiety or hell even just a string of bad days made public, you must not love Him enough. That is bullcrap. Having a sad day does not mean that my joy and strength are not still found and forever found in the Lord. Having a sad day just means that an external stimulus has effected me mentally and my response is to weep for a while. HEAR ME: this does not mean that the Lord is not still my portion. That is where the second verse I would like to highlight comes in the play. "Why are you cast down, O my inner self? And why should you moan over me and be disquieted within me? Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall yet praise Him, Who is the help of my countenance, and my God." This verse makes me want to scream and clap and sigh in relief all at once. It makes me want to scream from the rooftops that "it is not just me!!!" David, king, poet, adulterer, commander of men, leader, man after God's own heart is saying that "holy crap, yes, today sucks a little (lotta) bit, but yet shall I praise Him." The sovereignty and glory and joy of the Lord is not thwarted by my sad days, on the contrary, it is in His goodness, omniscience, and glory that I find the strength to remember that sad days don't mean I love him less. Sad days mean that I am alive. Sad days mean that I am human. Sad days mean that I have lived and loved and that I have the emotional scars to prove it. 

So, friends- Christian or otherwise- will you join me in being real with one another? Will you join with me in showing that realness to each other? If you need help, get it. If you take meds, remember them. If you don't remember the last time you were real on social media, then you are doing it wrong. Friends, know this: the gospel is worth it. On our very worst and saddest nights, the loneliness doesn't come close to the joy found in Him. 

Find your joy in Him even when you are sad and don't let anyone tell you that this isn't enough. 

Songs of the blog: 

Beach Baby- Bon Iver

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)- Sleeping at Last

I Can't Make You Love Me- Adele

Naked as We Came- Iron and Wine

One Too Many Mornings- Bob Dylan

On building Your kingdom here...

There is a flighty unsettling within me here in Florida. For months now, several friends and I have been praying for the people I am going to meet down here. For people to become "my people" and for a church to become "my church." It is bittersweet to know that most of them will never have to love me through what the people in Texas had to love me through. Simultaneously, I am struck by the sweetness of the Father's mercy. He allowed me that season so that by His mercy I get to tell the story of His faithfulness and joy to the people I encounter here.

So far, I am not exactly nailing it at the whole church hunting thing. I missed church this morning and I am honestly, even just around town, finding it pretty difficult to find people that fit my "idea" of what I had become accustomed to in TX. Granted, it has only been a few weeks, but even on social media and googling different churches in the area, I am a bit disheartened. Then, because I missed church, I decided to watch one of Matt's old sermons from this past winter. (Found Here.) I find no coincidence that the Lord would lead me into the heaviness of James in the solitary quietness of my new bedroom.

James is heavy and wonderful and difficult and so simple. James makes you want to sing praises all the day long and then rip your own tongue out because it isn't good enough. James teaches you that wherever you think you are with the Lord, there is always more of Him to dive into. James teaches you that faith and works go hand-in-hand, but it is folly to believe that by doing works, I can assure my faith. In both Matthew and John, we are told that out of the abundance of the heart- the mouth speaks. I am arguing that out of the abundance of my faith (the more I seek and find Him) the more my life, my works, my passions, reflect that. 

I am learning at a break-neck speed that it is so much more about who the Lord is to me in this season than what the Lord is doing for me. I believe that as Christians, we feel like as long as we are acknowledging the Lord, we are nailing it. I believe that He is teaching me that it goes so much deeper than that. He desires me to see Him as enough- not just good. Yes, of course, the Lord is good, but if Him being good was ALL that He was, it would be enough. In His mercy, He is also just and patient and gentle and sovereign, etc., but in His goodness alone could I be satisfied. 

In the book of Matthew, Jesus implores us to seek Him first. Before we ask for food, shelter, water, or happiness, we are to seek His kingdom first. Out of the abundance of that seeking, our needs are met. I think the lesson I learned this morning at church, in my PJs, on my bed was this: I find Christ in the seeking and if that is ALL I ever find, my needs have been fully met. 

For so long, I assumed that if I wasn't happy with where I was, then I wasn't where the Lord intended me to be. Now, I am pretty sure that is bullshit. Let's take a quick look at the Valley of Dry Bones. If you are unfamiliar with this story, in (short of Revelation) the most acid-trippy book of the bible, Ezekiel is witness and key player in the resurrection of an entire valley of broken, brittle, and tired bones. Yes, bones. Not metaphorical bones. Real ones. By the work of the Lord, those bones rose, took on flesh, and assembled themselves as a great army before the Lord- ready to do His will. 

Today, I took communion using cheap wine and the end of the loaf of the bread that no one else in the house eats, on my bed, in the dark, weeping, alone. It was intimate. It was to His glory. It was for my good. Moreover, it was a promise. He promises to never leave me nor forsake me. In that promise, I am learning that even if I don't have a single other thing going for me- I have Him. 

In the darkness, in the doubt, in the hustle and bustle of starting a new chapter, in the middle of really, really awesome beach days, He is still, always, and only enough. It isn't about temporal happiness, His work in me is about His glory and my eternal joy.

May my life be the proof that you can have all this world, but give me Jesus.

Songs of the blog:

Build Your Kingdom Here- Rend Collective
Dry Bones w/ Fire Fall Down- Matt Birkenfeld
Let the Heavens Open- Kari Jobe-Carnes
Blameless/ How He Loves- Dara Maclean
Though You Slay Me- Shane and Shane

On being radiant again...

I want to be honest with you: I feel as though the sole reason I haven't written in so long is because I have been living so truly free that words seemed cheap. Now though, I am on the precipice of moving cross-country (again) and I have some reflections to share!

 Randomly ordered top five things I have learned during my time here in Texas:

  Number One: I have answered the question of "Am I ready (emotionally) to date?" with a resounding (and slightly embarrassing) yes. However, first dates can be awkward even for the coolest cats, so, here is some advice: 

1. If you have a heart condition, take your meds with you dadgummit. Throwing up on first dates while very, very funny anecdotally, it isn't so much fun in reality.
2. Don't ever let someone else's lack of intimacy or vulnerability cause you to feel negative about yourself. You are radiant and wonderful and they are an idiot if they don't treat you that way. In the same light though, don't hold their lack of intimacy against them either. Sometimes chemistry just doesn't work out.
3. Ask more questions. The weirder the better is always my policy. Examples: "What is something you have always wanted to try?"(Break-dance fighting.) "You get to have a super power, but it can only be a hella lame super power. What would your power be and why?"(I would want to remember everything I have ever read. Duh.) "Who would win in a fight between a grilled cheese and a taco?"(Taco, obviously.) 

Number Two: Charlie Hunnam is a total babe. This one doesn't actually hold any merit, but I have watched six seasons of Sons of Anarchy in the last month and I am totally obsessed with that bada** British babe alert. I don't regret how strongly I feel about this I mean just look at him! Look at him!

  
Number Three: Sometimes being alone is OK. Even when it is awful. Even when you feel like you don't deserve to be in that season anymore. The Lord is still faithful and it is His call when your season of wilderness is up. Hosea 2:14 tells us that He will lead us into the wilderness and speak tenderly to us and to our hearts. Let the wilderness in. Let the solitude lead you to hearing Him more clearly. Learn to listen to that still, small voice even when you want to scream and thrash. 

  
Number Four: Brushing your hair is overrated. My advice? Be as free as you can possibly be in the exact moment you are in right this second. In the word we are told that where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. They will know us by our love, yes, but they will also know us by our freedom. Take huge risks without being thwarted by the consequences. Hate your job? Quit. (Seriously. Life is too short.) Don't actually love that person you're with? Pray about it. Be respectful. Guard their heart. But, honestly, trust your instincts. No one on earth is you-er than you. 

  
Number Five: Love yourself no matter freaking what. You are so perfect. You are so brave. You are so worth happiness. You are lionheart and my best friend Taylor has some words for you, dear one. Please know that you are not made up of everything you hate about yourself. Listen to the compliments- breathe them in deep. Start to see yourself as awesome, handsome, beautiful, and worthy. You are so very, very worthy.

As my last twenty four hours in Texas approach, I have been asked often what my most poignant lesson has been. With full conviction, it is this: the Holy Spirit does stuff. He is a freaking weirdo and it rocks. I grew up in a culture where we didn't necessarily learn that the Holy Spirit didn't exist, He just wasn't taught to be very important. I am getting to know Him and holy crap, you guys, the Holy Spirit wrecks shop. I used to believe that the Holy Spirit was that feeling I got when I would do bad things. Oh, how naive I was! It is by the cross that I boast, but it is in the Spirit that I get to claim authority! He is powerful and so, very intricate. He can make 11 total strangers have nearly identical visions years and THOUSANDS of miles away from each other. These aren't hypotheticals, this happened. Go visit my dear spirit-filled friends over at We Are Unveiled and fall in love with His sweet, unfathomable plans.

Beyond just being intricate, the Spirit puts flesh onto your broken, weary, brittle bones and commands you to breathe. He saw my meddled, mangled, broken mess as I rolled into Texas after not marrying Will. He saw my broken bones and rotting flesh and has declared it healed and whole. To the glory of His name, I truly feel this way. Let Him heal you. Even if you are so hurt and so sad that you honestly can’t stand to think about the fact that He is sovereign because your life sucks so badly at the moment that if He is in charge of the shots, then you kind of want to punch Him right in the throat. LET HIM HEAL YOU. God is the only one who can. He searches your heart and He HEALS YOUR HEART. 

In wholeness, confidence, and a tiny twinge of sadness, I am moving to St. Petersburg, Florida on Tuesday. I have no job and no friends (yet) but I have family that loves me absolutely unconditionally and I am about to become the beachiest babe you know. 

Wish me luck. 

Pray for me. 

Visit often. 

Just promise me to live life as freely as freaking possible, OK? It is so worth it.

Songs of the Blog:

YØUTH- Breathing Easy

Tune-Yards- Water Fountain

Relient K- Chapstick, Chapped Lips, and things like Chemistry

Seryn- We Will All Be Changed
Elenowen- Flying Solo

On Being the Wick

I have learned several substantially difficult lessons over the past two months. Foremost, I have become aware of a gross lack of grace within myself. These lessons are never fun to learn, but I have come to know that when walking with the Lord, it is folly to glaze over, or worse skip over altogether, these lessons. Although I would enjoy a fast forward button every once in a while, I wouldn't change a thing. It is within these difficult seasons that the mercy of the Lord is most clearly made visible to me.

Building a fire is brutal work. To build a campfire, the wood must first be found, cut down- broken. Then, it is ignited, scorched- set ablaze. Then, as it burns, it breaks down further. It snarls and mangles- unrecognizable from its first state. It is here, in the bruised, slipshod, burned out embers that the blaze burns hottest. Fire consumes. Yes, fire is used for warmth and light and comfort, but flames are also a force of nature that can lay waste to anything they touch. God is referred to in the book of Hebrews, as an "all-consuming fire." Have you ever paused to reflect on this? This is not a cute phrase! It will not be embroidered on a pillow anytime soon. Why? Inasmuch as fire is purifying, it is also terrifying. When faced with fire, truly, unequivocally faced with it, fire is all you see. It is all you know. Fire is all there is.

Similarly, I feel like a bonfire lately. I am a snarled, angry, burning mess. I am a pre-school teacher. Five days a week, I am surrounded by three-year-olds. Snotty- nosed, grubby handed, squishy hugs-giving three-year-olds. Pants pooping, angry yelling, biting, kicking, unaware and infuriating three-year-olds. I get so frustrated with my kids and suddenly I become someone I do not recognize. In my worst moments, I bite out my words with the intention of pain. I clip the ends of my sentences with a serious tone with the conviction that this time, that three-year-old who is OFF THE WALL hyper will actually take a nap.

It is on these days that I hear the gentle and heartbreaking whispers of the Father, "my Beloved, have I ever treated you with such disdain? Whatever you do to the least of these… remember? These children represent Me, my darling." My heart hears these whispers and is snapped back to the reality of grace received and grace withheld. I expect grace. I grubby, angry fingered demand grace from God, but yet, I run out of it by 10AM with three-year-olds.

I am finding that when I get to this point without taking time to breathe, my fire is fueled by angry expectation and not patience-filled understanding. I have no perception of their curious pent-up energy. I have no frame of mind in which grace is present.

These are usually the moments where my co-teacher, Courtney- my dream version of myself - says something lovely about the Lord, or my across the bathroom teacher friend Amanda comes in and shares a deep, giggle-filled, exhausted, exasperated breath with us. Little glimpses of stolen grace. There are little glimpses of glory in the kiss of a boo-boo or in the quiet exchange of hushed giggles in the corner or in the loud and raucous laughter of three-year-olds at lunch as they are just learning to make friends. There is grace given and received in the subtle, understanding head nod between teachers in cahoots in the hallway, or in the overwhelmingly supportive attitudes of our parents.

I cannot help but wonder if this is how the Lord sees me and delights in me: "Look at my daughter! Watch as she groans and grows and longs for things she does not yet comprehend fully. Look how far she has come! See how far I wish to take her!"

Being a teacher is HARD work, but so is being a three-year-old if you think about it. May my want to give grace always match my demand to receive it.

Let the wild rumpus start!

Songs of the Blog:

I'm Safer on an Airplane- Copeland

Golden Train- Justin Nozuka

Holocene- Bon Iver

It Must Suck to be Four Year Strong Right Now- Four Year Strong

Fire Never Sleeps- Jesus Culture

The Wick- Housefires

On sitting, waiting, wishing.

Sometimes life lines up perfectly and every single day that you wake up your feet hit the floor and you feel like you are just freaking nailing it. This past season has definitely NOT been that for me. In our culture, we worship safety. We constantly sell our souls for consistency and the ability to not feel like the bottom is dropping out. Well, for the second time in the last year and a half of my life, my world has been flipped, turned upside-down. I am not sure where the Lord is taking me and I am unsure of what my next season looks like and I am kind of digging it. 

I sleep best on vacation and the truth of that makes me a weirdo. Most people that I know, (shout-out to my mama) HATE sleeping anywhere but their own bed. Even the fanciest hotels or the most luxurious vacation destinations cannot provide them with the comfort that a night of rest at home makes available. I sleep best in situations that would be considered less than ideal for others. It might have something to do with the fact that I am narcoleptic, but I choose to believe that it is the Lord's strength in me. My mother has always said that the most crucial element to being a minister's wife is the ability to bloom where she is planted. I used to think she was off her rocker. Now, I am not so sure. 

This season now looks totally different than I assumed it would. What I thought would be a season of rest has turned into a season of sitting, waiting, and wishing. In Genesis, we are told the story of Isaac. You might know him better with the association of the names of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but do you know his story? Really? I thought I did, but like most of you, I associate him either with his father being instructed to kill him in faithfulness, or his son multiplying like the stars. Here's the deal, that isn't what he should be famous for. He was faithful. This is his legacy. He was unwaveringly aware that the Lord was going to provide every single step of the way. Consider this story found in verses 2:14-25:

12 Then Isaac sowed seed in that land and received in the same year a hundred times as much as he had planted, and the Lord favored him with blessings.
13 And the man became great and gained more and more until he became very wealthy and distinguished;
14 He owned flocks, herds, and a great supply of servants, and the Philistines envied him.
15 Now all the wells which his father’s servants had dug in the days of Abraham his father, the Philistines had closed and filled with earth.
16 And Abimelech said to Isaac, Go away from us, for you are much mightier than we are.
17 So Isaac went away from there and pitched his tent in the Valley of Gerar, and dwelt there.
18 And Isaac dug again the wells of water which had been dug in the days of Abraham his father, for the Philistines had stopped them after the death of Abraham; and he gave them the names by which his father had called them.
19 Now Isaac’s servants dug in the valley and found there a well of living [spring] water.
20 And the herdsmen of Gerar quarreled with Isaac’s herdsmen, saying, The water is ours. And he named the well Esek [contention] because they quarreled with him.
21 Then [his servants] dug another well, and they quarreled over that also; so he named it Sitnah [enmity].
22 And he moved away from there and dug another well, and for that one they did not quarrel. He named it Rehoboth [room], saying, For now the Lord has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.
23 Now he went up from there to Beersheba.
24 And the Lord appeared to him the same night and said, I am the God of Abraham your father. Fear not, for I am with you and will favor you with blessings and multiply your descendants for the sake of My servant Abraham.
25 And [Isaac] built an altar there and called on the name of the Lord and pitched his tent there; and there Isaac’s servants were digging a well.

If you have been following my journey, you know that the past almost entire year and a half of my life have been excruciating. Mentally and emotionally, I have been stripped bare. The Lord has been my portion, but most of my breaths felt shallow and my feet felt so unsure. Nothing I prayed for came true; that boy didn't marry me- everything hurt. Then, all of a sudden, I began to breathe deeply again. Deep breaths that hurt your lungs because they feel so good. I was so excited to enter a season of rest with the Lord. I prayed and decided to not go to seminary just yet because I just wanted to sit and breathe with Him. I was content to just be sitting.

Two weeks later, everything got upended once again. I am no longer a nanny like I have been this past year, I am a full-time preschool teacher and I just moved in with a sweet family in Fort Worth. The story I shared before about Isaac is resonating so deeply with me these days. Isaac refused to allow the circumstances around him challenge his knowledge that the Lord was going to work it out. He was thrilled to dig the well, confident that water would rise, and ready to get up and go if things began to deteriorate. He was good at the waiting. He bloomed where he was planted. 

Psalm 27:14 says, "Wait and hope for and expect the Lord; be brave and of good courage and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord." Later in the Word we are instructed to wait on the Lord “more than the watchmen wait for the morning.” Isaac could have easily and excusably given up when the people came out of nowhere and took his wells from him. Perhaps just as understandable would be the instinct to put up a huge fight. He could have justifiably said “ I PUT IN THE WORK! I DESERVE TO STAY!” Instead, he gathers his house and his wife and his mind and moves on. 

What is the point in choosing to bloom where you are planted but refusing to believe that the Lord has the ability to provide the water to help you grow? My papa has been more than supportive during this whole upheaval of norms in my life and last week he drops this nugget of wisdom into my brain: “you must endure the sacrifice before you receive the blessing.” So, while I sit, and while I wait, I pray that I don’t lose sight of my ability and freedom in the Lord to wish for big things. To limit the Lord on what I believe He can lead me into over these next few months would be foolish and unwise. I might not have a clue where I am going to be resting my head come December, but I know that for now, I am going to sleep easy in my bed that isn’t technically mine knowing that the Lord who "knew the boundaries of my dwelling places before the earth was formed" is the one watering my tomorrow. 

Songs of the blog:

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing- Jack Johnson

Plane- Jason Mraz

Heart of Life- John Mayer

Winter Winds- Mumford & Sons

Manhattan- Kings of Leon

On studying politics

"For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn't understand growth, it would look like complete destruction." -Cynthia Occelli

The thing about living life with The Lord is that it is all about perspective- you cannot see the end from the beginning. You are not allowed to. Sometimes the beginning, middle and near-end look like complete destruction. But God (my favorite word combination in the World, by the way) never sees what we see and is not limited to what we think. Ever. 

Last night, someone asked me what I would tell youth about following The Lord and learning His word. I replied, "I would tell them that Proverbs 2 promises that "wisdom shall enter your heart and knowledge shall be pleasant to you" and the Psalms promise that His precepts (the crap that you're supposed to obey, but sometimes it kind of sucks because it's the exact total opposite of what you want to do) "will be sweeter than the finest honey." 

I believe that this is where it gets dirty trying to walk with The Lord. It's easy to have a "go get 'em" and "yes, Lord!" attitude when things are all neatly lining up in a row in your life. The mud and the uphill starts when everything falls apart and you are broken and angry and worn out and really freaking pissed off that God didn't answer the prayers that you were CERTAIN He would. Things get so very, very messy when you begin to crawl up that muddy hill back towards Him. 

You're crawling and 

crawling and 

falling and 

crawling and 

sleeping and 

running and 

crying and 

crawling and 

crawling. 

Your fingernails are dirty and falling off and your knees are bleeding and your arms are burning and your throat is raw from screaming and 

you're 

the 

dirtiest 

of 

the 

dirty. 

That mountain- the really hard, pain in the ass mountain, is the messy stuff. When you're climbing it, it's all you see. 

It is all you should see. 

It is all there is. 

With each step and each inch, you have the privilege to get to know a little bit more about Christ. So, you fight. You claw and scratch and dig because at the very tippy top of that mountain is the wisdom of God and the knowledge of His precepts. Wisdom and knowledge that (just before you inevitably go tumbling down that mountain to start over again) are sweeter than the sweetest honey. 

He is worth it. 

He is always, always worth it all. 

I grew up doing mission work in Nashville and I fell in love with it. While I have every intention of visiting my beloved Nashville very soon, I am so dadgum glad that The Lord didn't listen to me when I asked for Him to send me to a big city- to my Nashville. He sent me here to Dallas- Fort Worth instead. This season of coming undone is without a doubt the hardest with Him I have ever had. 

Everything hurts and 

everything is good and 

everything sucks and 

everything needs Him. 

As I claw and dig and cuss and bleed up this mountain that looks like destruction, I'm learning that He is worth it and the amount that I hate this mountain will pale in comparison to how much I love His lessons I learn from it. 

I am undone. 

I am chaotic. 

I am messy. 

He is worth it. 

Songs of the blog:

Studying Politics- Emery

The Earth Falls Asleep (acoustic) -Abandon Kansas

Cripple Me- Elenowen

Such Small Hands- La Dispute

It Is Well- Bethel Music

Moving For the Sake of Motion- Underoath

On Ramblings of a Beggar

There is a certain fearlessness necessary to pursue your dreams. For me, Texas was less of a dream and more of an escape from what was quickly becoming a nightmare in Jackson. Mississippi was my home for six years and so much of me longs to return. 

Have you ever considered the possibility of time travel? I don't often. I have always been more of a blaze forward and worry about the details later kind of girl, but this year has forced me to do just this. One year ago today, this was the last day Will and I were together. We had taken six weeks to pray and fast (for me, most of my time was spent crying) and I could feel the conclusion coming soon. We had agreed to talk on Friday (May 31st) after he got off work. I told my boss when I went in for work at 6:30 that morning and mercifully, she came home super early that day so that I could go home and have some time with the Lord before William got there. 

During the break-up William so wisely said that "the way we tell this story has the potential to show everyone in our lives how much we love Christ and the gospel message more than ourselves." How very right he was! He also asked me to write a blog about our story so that people with questions could reference it if they need to, also he knew it would be cathartic for me. So, one year later, I think I might have the courage to do just that. So, here is my love letter to it all:

I read once that falling in love was like falling asleep- slowly and then all at once. Well, Mr. Green, I am narcoleptic. That rule doesn't apply to me. In fact, I fell in love quite the opposite- hard and immediately. 

He had cold ankles. No matter how much time has passed, this is the first thing that makes me sad and it was what I've missed the most. He also has one ringlet curl that grows behind his ear. He hates it. I am pretty sure it is my most favorite thing. I could tell by the way he breathed what kind of mood he was in and knew by just glancing at his face what his thoughts were. Every cell of my being desired to be his forever. Every moment further away from being with him causes me to feel as though instead of moving forward, my soul is leaving pieces of itself behind with every step- a trail of breadcrumbs snaking a map back to where my heart wants to go. 

He took me to Cheddars for our first date. (Fancy, right?) I will never forget the look of panicked euphoria that crossed over his face as he realized I desired to continue spending time with him. I am still unsure of the exact time I fell in love with him but it was somewhere between realizing he smelled good when I met him and playing with his hair in the front seat of his gold F-150. These events were less than a month apart. 

He saw me and admired me long before I knew him. He was an addict and had gotten into a really bad spot in his life, so he didn't feel worthy or interested in getting turned down by "the good-girl" at church. Spoiler alert: He got clean and I didn't turn him down. We met officially on the way to Passion 2012, but I only remember him very briefly until four days later on the drive home. He was confident, blonde, gorgeous, and charming. I never stood a chance. 

I could write forever about our first few months together. He asked permission for every single thing we did. To put it mildly, I hadn't been treated or treated myself well in any of my past relationships. To have a man ask to hold my hand a month in to us dating was such an indescribable breath of fresh air. This pattern continued a few months later with our first kiss and several months later on the Fourth of July when he told me that "I had bewitched him body and soul and that I was the love of his life." Pride and Prejudice was his favorite movie. Not a line, really- he can quote the whole thing.

It was only then that I began to allow myself to really, truly dream of a future with him. I was never the girl who planned her wedding as a child and I was certainly not expecting William to come into my life like he did. Despite all of that, there we were. I have journal upon journal entry from this time freaking out that my life was turning out so lovely. People Will and I hadn't talked to in years were starting to comment on how we were their favorite couple and how inspired they were by the Lord's obvious hand in it all. It was all very surreal and delightful. 

I fell in love with his family almost as much as I fell in love with him. His father is stoney, and was the hardest out of all of them to get to know. He loved getting a rise out of me and would usually do so by any means necessary. I used to be scared of the man William would be if he ended up exactly like Rick. I can say now with absolute full confidence that if William ends up having a fraction of the heart, loyalty and strength that Rick has, it will be an honor for anyone who knows him. His mother is the strongest woman I know. There is no competition for her in this category. Her sons never knew it, but for years, she would set alarms and wake up in the middle of the night and pray over their hearts as the whole house was sleeping. There wasn't a moment of their life that hadn't been prayed over. She longed to be the hands and feet of Christ and I have never met anyone who embodied it more. She (along with my own wonderful mother) solidified my desire to be a wife and mother and gave me an unbelievable example of how to do so to the glory of the Lord. His brothers. Oh, my heart. Bryce has the most incredible heart of any kid I have ever met. The Lord has already blessed him with some pretty gnarly gifts and it was a privilege and a joy to witness him grow into them. Rabbit is the love of my life. There were days and nights that I could have ripped his little punk head off, then, Will would lovingly remind me that I was only frustrated with him because we were the EXACT SAME person. That little curly headed weirdo was the best ever and it is him and our tickle fights more than anything else that I miss the absolute most. Well, that, and family game nights. 

I know that it seems like I don't remember anything negative, or that perhaps I have escalated Will into an idol that did no wrong the entire time we were together. That's most definitely not true. He sucked. There were things he would do or tones of voice that he would use with me that would make me absolutely come unglued. It wasn't until, probably, honestly too late in our relationship that we both realized that words have IMMENSE power and for the person who knows you better than anyone on the planet, words can easily be used as a weapon. Even though both our tendencies were for intellectual or emotional damage, we never fought. Not really, not until the end. We had four fights in the year and a half we were together. Three of them were absolutely necessary, all of them ended in him praying over us, and all of them spurred me on for the Kingdom. Even the qualities I absolutely hated about him helped me know more of Christ. I believe that this is why when I begin to ponder our relationship, the positive outweighs the negative. 1 Corinthians states that "love keeps no record of wrong." I believe that. I am living proof.

I have never heard him tell his side of our story. I wonder sometimes about the things he remembers. I wonder what those final days and weeks were like for him. I remember every moment so vividly. Know though, reader, that I could very likely have all detail wrong. So, if you talk to him, and the story isn't anything like this. Forgive me.

The ring had been pick out and it was beautiful. Upon his request, I had taken one of my close friends with me to get my official ring size and I had reported back to him. I was very adamant about not knowing any details whatsoever about the proposal, so once he had the ring information, my questions stopped. I knew that we were looking at spring 2014 so I had some inclination that it would happen in the coming months and by the end of the summer, but I tried (unsuccessfully mostly) not to dwell on it. This was the world I was living in.  

I know very little about what was going on with him in those final moments. What I do know is that the Lord was so glorified. I was away for a few days and as I was gone, he chose that time to really start digging in to the Word about husbands, wives, marriage, and the lot. It was within these lessons that his world began to unravel. He saw scriptures like, "he who finds a wife finds a good thing," and, "it is wise for a man to remain unwed so that he might focus on the Lord." Beyond that, he began reading that "a man cannot serve two masters." He came to me with his confusion and with a broken heart, asked for us to take a break to pray, fast, and seek counsel. 

During the next six weeks, I was a wreck. Though we didn't speak, I knew him, better than anyone on the planet. He was a wreck too. About four weeks in, a movie came out that we had been waiting months to see together, so he took me. I felt like I was being tortured. I cried the entire time. I refused to touch him. I think I knew that if I held his hand or hugged him once, I would't be able to stop. I would've (and could've) manipulated him into staying with me. Is that really what I want? To force someone to love me? No. Hell no. No, thank you. I think he thought that I was being mean or stand-offish. I assure you, neither was the case. I loved him even then. Even when I was supposed to stop. I was selfish though. The next weekend, I got baptized in the reservoir. As everyone in our church was walking down to the water, I marched over to him and gently asked him to kiss my forehead. He did. It will forever be my favorite kiss he ever gave me. 

We were members of the same church and the sweet, wonderful people of Grace Community Church in Jackson loved us both WELL during this time. We received sound wisdom and many of them cried and prayed with me. One of them, Emily, sent me the verses from Hosea 2:14-20 along with the best smelling candle ever. Both the verses and the gesture changed my life! The passage states "¹⁴ Therefore, behold, I will allure her [Israel] and bring her into the wilderness, and I will speak tenderly and to her heart.

¹⁵ There I will give her her vineyards and make the Valley of Achor [troubling] to be for her a door of hope and expectation. And she shall sing there and respond as in the days of her youth and as at the time when she came up out of the land of Egypt.

¹⁶ And it shall be in that day, says the Lord, that you will call Me Ishi [my Husband], and you shall no more call Me Baali [my Baal].

¹⁷ For I will take away the names of Baalim [the Baals] out of her mouth, and they shall no more be mentioned or seriously remembered by their name.

¹⁸ And in that day will I make a covenant for Israel with the living creatures of the open country and with the birds of the heavens and with the creeping things of the ground. And I will break the bow and the sword and [abolish battle equipment and] conflict out of the land and will make you lie down safely.

¹⁹ And I will betroth you to Me forever; yes, I will betroth you to Me in righteousness and justice, in steadfast love, and in mercy.

²⁰ I will even betroth you to Me in stability and in faithfulness, and you shall know (recognize, be acquainted with, appreciate, give heed to, and cherish) the Lord." I have an entire blog post planned for the richness of this passage but, for now, know that the main lesson is that I was the betrothed Bride of Christ always and a wife on earth…maybe. I held onto this truth like it was the oxygen I needed to breathe. I still do.

I was in bed when he got to my house that afternoon. I knew I would know by his face as I opened the door what he was there to say- I did. I walked straight back into my bedroom and got under the covers and he came and sat on the couch across from me. He tried to make a joke about the weather but I wasn't having a second of that. So, he got on with it. He was silent after he spoke that we were breaking up. He let me cry and read him prayers and journal entries and never once asked me to get over it or to stop. He then said really smart, lovely things that I cannot remember because I was busy memorizing his face. The little scar on his face that he HATED. That curl above his ear that he was keeping short at the time, but I knew the truth! The way his breath caught as he left my house. 

It has been a year. I think I want to vomit at that realization. I have 365 days of memories without him. How strange!  I cannot imagine how tired people are of hearing about him. I am moving on- I am dating or at least flirting a little, but it is all pretty frivolous. My heart remains as much his today as it was that day in Cheddars. I have learned some very important lessons from the Lord though:

1- I am strong. A broken, wrecked mess, I packed up my whole life and moved it six and a half hours away to a city of 8 million where I knew exactly 9 people. I am astounded by the resilience that I have seen the Lord work in me this past year. Astounded. 

2. When I love, I love big. I have never really been the type to do things halfway. This past year has only proved that fact. 

3. The Lord is faithful when I am faithless. I am in Texas now. I am surrounded by a growing number of friends that very intentionally love me and my mess. They continue to ask me how I am doing emotionally even though they know that they answer is going to be something about Will. They still ask and may God bless them for it.

4. I will be fine. The flip side of losing everything for the sake of Christ is that in Him, I am fully satisfied. I might hurt, I might cry, I might not understand, but I DO NOT lack.

5. Not all days are bad days which means that good days are coming. "You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all of your heart." This is a promise to me in His Word. My joy is in the Lord. Lucky for me, He is infinite and worthy.

I have had several people ask me if the last year has been worth it. I believe that this is when I begin daydreaming about a time machine. There is a saying that "it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." No offense meant to that idiot, but I wholeheartedly disagree! Life would be infinitely easier if none of the William moments would have happened. Emptier and less fun perhaps, but easier? I have no doubt. The truth about life though is that it takes the bitter to help you savor the sweet. I have officially applied to Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and should know their answer by the end of next week. I turn 25 in two weeks exactly. Life is happening all around me! For now, for as long as I am allowed, I am going to remember the bitter so that I might more accurately savor the sweet. 

Songs of the Blog:

Ramblings of a Beggar- Shawn McDonald

Wedding Dress- Derek Webb

Take the World, but Give Me Jesus- Ascend the Hill

Slumber- NEEDTOBREATHE

California- Copeland

Only Love- Ben Howard

My Oh My- Macklemore and Ryan Lewis