An Open Letter to Chicago

Dear Chicago,

I have never been to visit you, but within your limits now lives one of my life's most precious things. Her name is Taylor and she is sunshine and giggles and everything good. She is 20 going on 75 going on 6 and every day of her life is an adventure. 

She loves Jesus more than anything else in the whole of the universe (even more than pizza) but she is still learning about Him. So, provide friends who will encourage her, and give her a quick punch in the throat if her life gets crazy and she needs one. Let her love you like Jesus would because that's all she really wants in life. 

You have tall buildings and I need you to promise to be kind to her as she climbs on them and takes pictures from them and risks her life to do hoodrat things on them. 

You have pizza. Right now, her favorite is pineapple and cheese slices that are as big as her head. You're more about that deep dish life, but she adapts quickly! So, I need you to feed her all the pizza she could ever dream of, OK, Chicago?

I need you to provide fun hills and slick surfaces for her to longboard down when she has had a hard day, OK? To her, a long boarding session is a warm hug and since I am not there to make her cupcakes and yell at her for being all introverted and sad, I need you to let her longboard all over, OK?

Neither one of us does "girly" well. In fact, before her, I pretty much avoided it forever. Then, Taylor came into my life and refused to allow me to accept "lonely" as normal. She introduced me to all of my new favorite people in Texas, and I am so excited for her to love on the people of your fine city. But, know, Chicago, sometimes Taylor gets really sad for no reason. Sometimes there isn't anything else to do but give a little attitude right back and then go bring her pancakes. (Leave off the butter.)

You're a mess, Chicago with the murders and gang violence and whatnot, but you aren't allowed to hurt her, OK? If you hurt her, there is a whole slew of folks here in DFW that will rip your throat right out. 

Today, I told her dad that there is something about Taylor that demands your best self.  She brightens up the worst days and makes good days become the most memorable of your life. She loves adventure, basketball, and Being as an Ocean. She makes the real you better, just by being a part of your life.

Now you, Chicago, get to have the immense privilege of having her with you. 
So, be better, Chicago. 

Be better because Taylor Tippett is the best.
Be happy because Taylor Tippett is sunshine.
Be hoodrat because Taylor Tippett is hoodrat.

Finally, my dearest TipTup, Be rad. Eat pizza. Never change. and Guard your heart. For real.


With all of my love,

Ashlee Walworth


Songs of the blog:
Let it Go- Idina Menzel
Dear G-d- Being as an Ocean
Walls- Emery
Burn this City- Cartel
Acquired in Heaven- Beautiful Eulogy

On Tasting and Seeing the Sweetest of Love

Somewhere along the road from childhood to adulthood, I forgot one very important truth: hurting hurts. 

As a nanny, I have been privy to many different parenting techniques:

1) the "don't let her cry a single tear without picking her up" technique
2) the "let them cry when there isn't a legitimate reason, but comfort them when pain is involved" technique
3) the "well, they won't do it twice, will they?" technique, AKA the "rub some dirt in it" technique

I am unsure of how I will parent my children if I am blessed with that privilege, but I do know that none of those "good parenting" techniques are ones I usually attribute to God. When I hurt, I expect Him to not only make me feel better, but I get upset with Him that He "let me" get hurt in the first place. Further more, I begin to doubt His ability to save me should a harmful or hurtful situation arise in the future. 

I talk a big talk. 

With the ministry the Lord is calling me and gently leading me into, it allows me to sound much more spiritual than I want to be. I get to talk about how my Father has saved me and ransomed me and redeemed some pretty terrible situations. I leave out the part about how I was sobbing and screaming in the middle of my kitchen floor two nights ago because I had forgotten, once again, that hurting hurts. 

This season of my life has been lovely. Truly, lovely. I have met fellas and ladies here in Texas that genuinely care about my faith, life, and happiness. I have a job that (almost) every single day, I love. I have a home that fulfills my needs more than I could have ever asked or imagined He would. On top of all of that, the Rangers started the 2014 MLB season today! May His name be praised for His good gifts!!

Under (perhaps over) all of that, I hurt. I am in active pain. I keep having to remind myself that I need to live my life like today matters because I am not guaranteed a tomorrow. I know, that sounds all pintrest-y but really, James had some things to say about it:

"Come now, you who say, Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a city and spend a year there and carry on our business and make money. Yet you do not know [the least thing] about what may happen tomorrow. What is the nature of your life? You are [really] but a wisp of vapor (a puff of smoke, a mist) that is visible for a little while and then disappears [into thin air]. You ought instead to say, If the Lord is willing, we shall live and we shall do this or that [thing]." James 4:13-15

I was praying big prayers around this time last year. I could see so clearly the path before me and instead of walking one foot in front of the other and allowing the Lord to raise the road to meet my feet, I sprinted forward, refusing any path to the contrary. In a flash, I am now living in Texas and in two months there will be an entire year of memories without William as an active participant in my life. This makes very little sense to me. 

I was never a girly girl. I never planned my wedding as a little girl. Sometimes I wonder if this was the trigger to my pain. It wasn't a normal thing for me. Desiring the good, bad, and ugly of marriage was never something I expected. Now, much to the chagrin of the folks around me, I am still dwelling on the past. I still wake up more mornings than not having to remind myself: 1. I am in Texas. 2. William is not. 3. I am OK. 

Have you ever slipped on a slick surface and landed on your tailbone? While you are slipping, your legs fly out from under you, and you are breathless, all of your senses are bracing themselves for inevitable pain. Then, BAM! you hit the cold, hard floor. Every thing hurts all at once. In the deep recesses of your brain, you KNOW you are OK. There on the floor though, you are in pain, and you are embarrassed, and you're probably giggling a bit from the hysteria inducing combination of the two. That emotion is what I wake up to every morning. Painful, giddy, hysteria. 

I am so tired. I am so weary from the sick, strange sadness that won't clear.

I understand. I truly, with all of my heart, am so delighted and proud of the way I have gotten to see the strength of the Lord through William throughout this past year. Any semblance of sanity I have about the whole thing can be attributed to W.'s constant (sometimes infuriating) push to walk in the Lord's will for the both of us. I understand. On a Friday in May, he told me "how we treat this situation and each other from now on will be our witness of how much we love the gospel more than anything else." He was right. Most days, I love this. I have tasted and seen more of the sweetness and worth of the gospel more in the past year than I have in all of my other years combined. So much of the time though, this truth is bittersweet because it reveals the true nature of my heart and more days than I want to admit, I desire what I want or wanted far above and beyond what the Lord is currently placing in front of me. 

I get told a lot of things about how to make this time easier is to just not think about it as much (ummm, OK), about how it's clear I just need to spend more time with the Lord (probably true), or about how I need to just "stop being emotional about it"(have these people even met me??) Ten months into this mess, I am certain of one thing-  there is no road map. There are no rules in this phase of life I am in other than to "walk after the Lord [my] God and reverently fear Him and keep His commandments and obey His voice and serve Him and cling to Him." -Deuteronomy 13:4

Cling to Him. 

Cling to the promise that His love is better than life. 

Cling to His goodness. 

Cling to His coat-tails when I don't have the tenacity or strength to run into His arms. 

I am a mess. 

I am an emotional jokeshow. 

I am the Bride of Christ.

I am beloved.

I am redeemed and redeemable.

He is good- even when His good doesn't look like what I asked for.

Hurting hurts, but I know now more than ever, there is beauty in broken things.

Songs of the blog:

Who are we fooling?- Brooke Fraser

I breathe You in, God- Bryan and Katie Torwalt

Able- NEEDTOBREATHE

Nothing Fancy- Dave Barnes

Forgive me- Missy Higgins

Give me one reason- Tyrone Wells, feat. Jason Reeves

On Bringing a Knife to a Gun Fight

Several words in my (almost) twenty five years of life are tossed around to describe my personality. I have heard: fun, loud, intimidating, spunky, determined, flirty, happy, saved, crazy, and loving. I have known my entire life that the Lord blessed me with what we in the South politely call "a big personality." 

There are two descriptive words that have been haunting me lately: meek and mild. 

To me, these are desirable qualities. I would love to be able to have the personality of women I admire. They are gentle, quiet, receptive, and adorned with grace and patience. I posit that my covetousness is the Christian version of "straight vs. curled hair" debate amongst women. We see what "they" have and it makes us aware of what we "lack." 

I "lack" a gentle personality. Heck, the only thing "gentle" about me is that I am only five feet tall. I love with all I have, I hurt with all I am, and most of the time, I express my emotions with little-to-no filter. For the last three years, I have been all-together ashamed of my abrasiveness. Recently, this brain-bomb dropped: What if the trait I so wish I could alter is the thing others see and admire? 

Let's take a minute to see what the Word has to say in Luke 10: 38-42:

"As they continued their travel, Jesus entered a village. A woman by the name of Martha welcomed him and made him feel quite at home. She had a sister, Mary, who sat before the Master, hanging on every word he said. But Martha was pulled away by all she had to do in the kitchen. Later, she stepped in, interrupting them. “Master, don’t you care that my sister has abandoned the kitchen to me? Tell her to lend me a hand.” The Master said, “Martha, dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing. One thing only is essential, and Mary has chosen it—it’s the main course, and won’t be taken from her.” (The Message)

My theory is that, like me, Mary has ADHD. Mary wasn't ignorant of her surroundings. She is aware that the house needed to be clean, the kids needed food, homework and papers were due, and the 
laundry needed to laundered. Yes, Mary was aware of those things, but, she chose to focus on the one thing her brain decided was most important- Jesus. I wish that my outbursts, procrastinations, and general Sonic the Hedgehog way of bowling through life's situations would all tie back to Christ. (Spoiler alert for my new friends: they don't.)

I believe the point to be this: some girls are Martha. They can do laundry, memorize scripture, bounce a perfect, giggling baby boy on their hip as they whip up a delightful meal for their husband right before they all do family bible study together. I KNOW those women. They are incredible, delightful, wise, and some of the greatest friends and leaders I have ever known. 

For just a moment, I would like to raise my rawkfist in solidarity for the women who can't get their crap together from one moment of life to the next. We are the dirty dishes leaving, semi-regular showering, loud, raucous bunch that roll into church as the doors are closing with wet hair, and a million emotions threatening to boil over at any moment. I'm also willing to bet, if we searched hard enough, I am certain we could find a stain or two on our dress or an old bobby pin in our hair ("WHEN DID THAT GET THERE? WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME I WORE BOBBY PINS?!).

I have this crazy vision for women. What if instead of seeing ourselves as "less than" perhaps we could begin rejoicing in the versions of ourselves that the Lord declares to be lovely? 

"Your God is present among you,
    a strong Warrior there to save you.
Happy to have you back, he’ll calm you with his love
    and delight you with his songs." Zepheniah 3:17 (The Message)

This passage is so powerful. Hear this, daughters (and sons) of the king: your God is present among you. 

He is right there in the middle of your hot mess. 

He is just as much there on the days where by miracle of miracles you pretty much have all your crap together. He is there on mornings that you just can't get out of bed because to get out of bed would mean having to accept that your life still isn't exactly what you want and sometimes the pain of this realization makes it hard to remember how to breathe. He is there on days when divine appointments lead to having a really, really fun day right smack dab in the middle of your jacked up emotions. He is THERE when you are sad. He is THERE when you are so mad at Him that you could scream from the rooftops that you just don't understand his plan this time. He is there in the waiting. He is there in the joy. He is there on the days when you are delighted to be alive, and he is there on the days when death seems like an acceptable trade-off for the grief. 

Beyond all the differences between one personality type and the other, I encourage you, friends, begin to ask the Lord to reveal how He sees you. 

You are LOVELY. 
You are BLESSED. 
You are REDEEMED. 
You are DELIGHTFUL. 
You are WORTHY. 
You are SAVED. 

If only for a moment, don't see your personality, testimony, lack-of knowledge, or appearance as a burden. Strive to see yourself as His betrothed, beloved, accepted Bride. He loves us exactly as we are and through HIS sanctification the areas that need refining to better glorify Him will get there over time. 

Dear ones, sit in the calmness that comes from the knowledge that trying to fit in to tiny little boxes of what other people are doing is a lot like bringing a knife to a gun fight when you have a strong Warrior mighty, able, and willing to save you.




Songs of the blog:
Creating Something Out of Nothing, Only To - Norma Jean
Awake My Soul- Derek Webb
Saints Heart in a Sinner's Skin- Sean McConnell
Song of the Lamb- Harvest Bashta
Mighty Warrior- Rick Pino
Maybe You Can Love Me Anyway- Sean McConnell

On Trick Photography

Five Lines That Boys Use With Good Intentions:

1. "I love you."
Do you love her? Truly? Are you willing to lay down your life for her? Are you aware that from the moment you say this (or possibly before) she will begin planning a late winter February wedding?
Be careful with these words. Seek wisdom and council. Pray about your vision and understanding of love before you lead a woman down the bumpy, devastating path that could have possibly been prevented.

2. "I can't wait to marry you one day."
Are you sure? Think about what these words are going to do to her heart before you speak them flippantly. I beg of you to pray and learn about biblical marriage, manhood, and love BEFORE this sentence is uttered. These words breathe life into a fantasy that she has been trying with all her might to squelch from the moment her brain told her that you are "the one." These words have the power to unlock a world in her of engagement ring obsessing, wedding dress longing, and "perfect first dance song" awareness.

3. "If you're a bird, I am a bird."
Do you want to be a bird? Are you perhaps a lion that is pretending to be a bird because the bird is really nice and pretty? If you're a lion, be a lion and wait for a lioness. Don't be a lion and let the bird think that maybe, possibly, if she prays really hard, you'll turn into the most perfect and handsome bird.

4. "If you love me, you would do it."
STOP IT RIGHT NOW. I have so many friends that have gone further sexually than they EVER wanted to because of this exact sentence. Sexual impurity of ANY kind can be avoided. Man up, refuse the status quo, and guard BOTH of your hearts. For the literal love of Christ, stop tricking yourself that "just fooling around" means you aren't ensnared.

5. "You're making too big a deal out of that"/ "I never said that"/ "You're just looking for a reason to get angry."
Words have an unimaginable power. They have the ability to build strength and encourage the brokenhearted. Under all of that, words have the ability to cripple, badger, and kill. Sometimes, women make HUGE deals out of very very insignificant things, THIS DOES NOT MAKE US INADEQUATE. Our feelings and emotions need to be validated, acknowledged, and encouraged. Through the Wisdom of God, my prayer is that we will all learn self- control.
Until then, please, brothers, when we ladies get angry or upset please back-track and consider:
What did I say?
How could that have come across?
With what tone-of-voice did I deliver my words?
Could she be right?
Even if she is dead-wrong, is that reason enough to invalidate her very real emotions?

I have been left and forsaken by more men than I am OK with. Almost all of them used lines such as these on me. Maybe it wasn't their fault. Perhaps the fault lies entirely upon the low self-image we women push like drugs into our systems. In the end, the result remains the same-- broken, empty, lonely women; confused by their singleness and heartbreak; shocked by their low self-value and appalled by whom they have become.

My sweet sisters and brothers, breathe deep the righteousness and purity of Christ within you. 

"I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake; and I will not remember your sins."

—Isaiah 43:25

Brothers, I know more than most how easily it can be to blame women. The things we wear make it impossible not to lust; the way we conduct ourselves make it easy to fill our heads with sweet nothings; you (usually) never meant to hurt any one, etc. I KNOW. Here is the deal though, amongst us women, Lord willing, there is a shifting amongst us where we are becoming aware that there is something we can DO to help our brothers out. Please be patient with us as we are trying to LITERALLY go against every single message we are getting from the world.

Please, brothers, please be patient. Be men of the Lord; men of integrity blameless and steadfast and wait for us as we women are learning how to wait for you.


Ladies, don't think that you're off the hook; a blog on the crap we peddle is coming soon I am certain. Most importantly though, my wish for both men and women is that you would see yourself as holy, beautiful, worthy, and righteous.

We are told in II Corinthians 1:20, that in Christ Jesus we have our "yes" and "amen." What this means is that even though life is messy, and sometimes life is REALLY REALLY messy, Christ is sufficient to fulfill all our desires and needs and that fulfillment is our assurance that God promises to never leave and forsake us.

Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, he is the one who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.

—Deuteronomy 31:6

 Finally, rest and relax in this, dear ones, God cannot break a promise.

My covenant I will not break, nor alter the word that has gone out of my lips.
—Psalm 89:34

He is for our good. 
May the love we have one for another tell of the love we have for Christ.

Songs of the blog:
Photography- The Starting Line
Undo Me- Jennifer Knapp
Wake Up- All Sons and Daughters
The Earth Falls Asleep (Acoustic)- Abandon Kansas
Wanderin' Eyes- Matt Wertz

On Giving Up On Half-empty Glasses

Until just recently, I had begun to trick myself that I was waiting well. 

In the stillness and in the silence I was hearing my Creator whisper that I am loved, taken care of, and delighted in. In light of recent events, I cannot help but feel like a failure and be angry with myself because of how selfish I have been. My marriage status seems to be directly linked to my joy.

There is a deep seeded shame that emerges from this revelation. SURELY people are tired of me "breaking up to the glory of the Lord." 
It causes me to beg the question: 
"Are you tired of it, Papa? Are you tired of my whiny broken heart?" 
If I am honest with myself, these doubts emerge because I am tired of hearing it. I am tired of feeling it. I am tired.

Almost all of me wants the Lord's glory; then, there is the section of me that wished the last guy or the one before would have been "it" so that I could just stop and exhale. I find myself envious of the Brits I am seeing on television in shows like North & South and Downton Abbey. Fancy clothes, fancy talk, and proposals that go essentially just like this:

Guy: I don't hate you.

Girl: Is this a proposal?

Guy: Yes.

Girl: WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!!

That seems so civilized to me. Being dragged about until everything is "right" or "finances are in order" feels so exhausting. Granted, being trapped in a loveless terrible marriage also frightens me, so, there's that.

Judging from the ten new "must read" blogs that come out every day on social media, I am far from being the only person I know that is struggling with being single. There seems to be a very public and widespread need to declare that we are all OK. Sweep your mess into a cute little bin, but a bow, or a bird, on it, and call it "waiting" or "giving up to the glory of God." Blog after blog after blog celebrates the waiting, hurting, and "being strong."

When did it stop being acceptable to really struggle with major issues? 
When did wanting to be a wife and mother begin to be a major character flaw? 
I am not any less strong because I crave a husband to share in comfort, support, and Kingdom responsibilities. 

I desire to live for the Lord's name and renown. 
Some days, this tends to get messy. 
In the middle of my mess, I serve the Lord; and He that is rich in mercy, sees me, loves me, and delights in me.

He speaks LIFE into my mess.



Songs of the blog:

Carry me Through- Dave Barnes
The Thief- Brooke Fraser
Use Somebody (cover)- Tyrone Wells
Control Freak- Copeland
Giving Up- Ingrid Michaelson