Thankful.

It wouldn't be right to open my hands and accept a new year without reflecting on my years past. Not dwell; simply reflect. This was originally supposed to be a Thanksgiving post, but family festivities and schoolwork prevented that from happening. Because, while stuffing my face with turkey and squash casserole, surrounded by a beautifully supportive family, every part of me was thankful for the progress I have made in my life. Thankful for the progress the Lord, ultimately, has made with my heart.

Last Thanksgiving, during the few days before heading home, I was facing serious temptations to cut my life short. Every fiber of my being wanted my time here on earth to be over. Upon arriving home, my ability to see life for what it really was was clouded by the focus I held on life's negativities, disappointments, and on the hurt that I had previously experienced. I was unable to recognize the true beauty of life, the many, many, undeserved blessings that had been poured out over my life in surplus, because all my negative mindset could do was complain. I'm embarrassed by how ungrateful I was.

The woman that I was a year ago today was one of negative outlook, scathed by life's disappointments, bitter in resentment, miserable yet unwilling to make effective changes, and trapped in her own anxieties and stubbornness. The Lord was doing incredible things with my heart during that time, and I attempted to cling to his words and what I knew to be true, but I was prideful and unable to see my own failings. Thankfully, this was all apart of his plan; He was molding me into a beautiful story for His own purpose.

A year has now past, and, though I fail daily at reading my Bible, (it has remained untouched for some time now), and though church has been a very evident struggle in my life lately, I know that I am still His precious child. I know that He saw me through the hardest days of my life and that He saved me from my own self-hatred and called me worthy and beautiful. And though, I sin and fail him everyday; I am unbelievably stubborn, I curse under my breathe and out loud in drunken stupor, I choose frat parties over FCA nearly every week; not any of this makes me any less qualified to praise the Lord for the progress of my life.

Some of you may laugh, "what progress? It seems to me you have backtracked..." Well, maybe that is the way that you see it. But the way that I see it, I am surrounded by people who have taught me to laugh at myself. Who have looked at me without any judgment, who have clearly and openly identified with my struggles, who are not, by any means, afraid to admit their struggles. This year has been an unbelievable year. A year where I have met so many people instead of sitting in my room frowning upon their recreational activities. A year where I have made mistakes, many, and learned incredible amounts about my character from them. I have learned what kind of woman I want to be and taken evident steps to eventually progress into that woman. I have looked at the mirror and accepted what I saw, more than accepted, I have been confident in who I am.

So, in terms of progress, I absolutely am in love with my life. I enjoy every minute of it. I smile more, I have more people that I know personally. And these, they are all successes. My morals and my beliefs that I so heavily focused on last year have spilled over into the way that I relate to people and carry myself this year. The Lord has done a great deal in teaching me how to be humble and not think of myself as better than anyone.

It's purely simple. I'm not. I am by no means qualified to preach at anyone and have a great deal of cleaning up to do, but I do want to emphasize that I am celebrating the fact that I am free from my depression, I am free from my self-loathing, and I do plan on riding this precious life of mine out to the very last breathe. I hope that this post has inspired you. I hope that you realize,

"you don't need to be perfect to inspire others. Let people get inspired by how you deal with your imperfection." 

-Wilson Kanadi

"So count the ways He loves, a thousand, more, never stop, that when you wake in the morning you can't help but turn humbly to the east, unfold your hand to the heavens, and though you tremble and though you wonder, though the world is ugly, it is beautiful and you can slow, you can trust, and you can receive each moment as grace. Eucharisteo."  

-Ann Voskamp

That we may have life

Trying to wrap my head around the complexities of life right now and all I can do is smile. I love the surprises that life throws at you when least expected, I love the way that things fall together into what can only be best described by "disordered perfection." And although the layout of my college schedule day-to-day looks quite similar, each day holds a new adventure so that I am never dully navigating my way through life.

And that's what I never want to do- coast through life without any excitement, anticipation or passion. I want to grasp each day fully, with every fiber of my being, and I want to soak up life's experiences before it is too late. I couldn't wish for a better condition of the present; I am far too blessed beyond reason, I have done nothing to deserve the gifts that are so constantly poured out over my life and those gifts that are to come. Everything is perfect- even though I face the daily stresses of workloads and confusion in class and time passes all too quickly for me to even try to stay up to pace, it is disordered in the best way possible, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

And none of this is thanks to myself, but I can only point upwards and know that I am so small and seemingly insignificant, and yet, my every moment is planned out and my every hair on my head has been counted and these blessings, these situations, they are a result of the most beautiful love story ever to be shared. And it's a reality. And so, why not love? Why not embrace life passionately, why not seek relationships that glorify He who has provided us with everything we could ever need... and more?

And so I will love. And I will seek, desperately, with every ounce of energy that I have, to live life to the full. That is why He came.

In loving memory

Her quivering hand gripped his in a sea of black sniffles. His palms were sweaty and his chest quickly rose and fell as his tearful sighs echoed throughout the church. All of the stages of grief were represented in this room smothered with sorrow over the loss of their son.

Over a life that had so much potential, so much more life left to live, that had been cut so incredibly short, so unfairly short. And now a room of loved ones, friends, and admirers mourned it's ending; mourned his absence along with all of the plans made that would never happen, all of the hopes and dreams that could never be fulfilled, and all of the experiences that he would never be able to have. Some sobbed because of how suddenly his life had come to a halt. Some sat angrily and stiff, because, "why him?" A question they would never have an answer to, yet they continue to ask it, to muddle over it, to lose sleep about it.

And in the midst of such incredible pain and tragedy and the loss of such a young life, I think the only answer we can choose to formulate is that because it was him, we can take the memories, the pain, the sorrow we feel in our hearts and we can choose to live better, to love more, to laugh harder and to help others. We can honor him with the lives we are so blessed to continue to live today. 

I did not have the privilege of knowing Michael deeply or even intimately in friendship, but I do have the privilege of knowing so many who knew him, so many who now mourn his loss. I have seen his brothers sit outside of the Shack with candles and flowers under his picture. I have seen them living out their pain, and I hurt for them. It has been a shaking event and Clemson has had an overtone of grief this week. I think that, whether we knew Michael or not, the loss of this young man that was in a very similar place of life as each of us can impact us in ways that will improve our character, our values, our lives, and our futures. We may never know why it had to be Michael, why he had to be ripped from our lives so early and so abruptly, but the wounds that his death have left upon us can be tended to and healed into tougher skin, proving to make us stronger in the end. 

It's hard to wrap our feeble minds around such a tragic loss, and sometimes it's incredibly hard to see the good in these events throughout the course of life, but what I do know is that we can take this loss and we can utilize it to better ourselves so that we can, hopefully, leave someone a little better when it's our turn to go. And then we can join Michael and thank him for being the best version of himself that he could be.

You are dearly missed.

Hopes

I hope that you stop looking for fulfillment in the people who think you're ordinary and that you stop neglecting those who know you're spectacular. I hope you hold out long enough for the person you're destined to meet and that you don't let loneliness allow you to settle into the arms of someone who doesn't deserve you. It's a hard task when loneliness looms over you, but one that you deserve to fight for.

I hope that you buy yourself flowers and that you get up early enough to look in the mirror, know that you're beautiful and pamper yourself the way you deserve. I hope that you carry yourself with the respect that you should, so that everyone can tell that you don't take any crap. You love yourself more than that.

I hope you swallow your pride long enough to comfort those who have hurt you in their time of hurting. That you reach out to them in their suffocating sorrow and you empathize with them. I hope that you can be the big person and give him back his shirts instead of burning them like you so often joked about. I hope you deliver them with a smile and a "farewell" that makes him realize he never wanted things to go this way. But I hope if he verbalizes this, you know your worth enough to smile, shake off his words, and say that this is the way it was supposed to go. And I hope you walk away with strength and with dignity and I hope you don't turn back when he cries about the strong girl he let walk away. If you're meant to be and he really understands his mistakes, he will walk to you. But I beg you, I fervently hope that you don't walk away with a bitter tone, but a hopeful one. That you aren't angry but you are expectant of someone better. Because better will come, I promise.

I hope that you try your best to live out these actions, and that when you don't, you know how to get up, dust yourself off, and keep going. I hope that you know mistakes are human, that everyone makes them and that just because you are so confident in who you are that you can be open about your dirtiest parts when most can't, it doesn't mean they don't have dirty parts, too. I hope you comfort yourself with that when you're feeling alone in your battles.

All I want is for you to wake up each morning and know it is not promised, and that the impending events you plan for may never have the chance to be fulfilled. I hope you know that each stressful sigh is another less breath; but I hope this doesn't discourage you, instead, I hope it motivates you. To make the changes today that you so desperately long to put off until tomorrow. Because tomorrow may never come. I hope you love your life, even the low parts of it, and I hope you hope the same for the ones that you love.

Immense company in aloneness

Ever sat alone in Starbucks? Just sat and listened to the mix of voices that dance in the air around you? And in that moment when everyone around you is delving further into conversation, you suddenly get this feeling that you're invisible, and if you were to get up and dance around or wave your arms, not a soul would notice and the conversations would carry on steadily and uninterrupted.

These types of moments fascinate me. The irony is that you can feel so utterly alone when you are, in fact, sitting in a room filled with people socializing. Everyone but you. And your mind almost naturally drifts off to the people you wish were sitting in front of you, accompanying you. Part of your soul longs for them to magically walk in, smile when they see you, and sit down. But this doesn't happen and you continue to sit and watch those around you. Almost in a trance. You keep thinking, "I should get up, I should get up," but a part of you enjoys this time. Part of you relishes in your utter aloneness and the fact that these strangers don't even notice you. It makes you deflate a little, realizing that the huge and overwhelming things that stress you out daily, that suffocate you-- they're not that big after all. And these people surrounding you, they're all just trying to safely navigate through life as well. And maybe, if you were to converse with them, they'd be able to identify with those circumstances which unsettle you, make you feel a little less shitty and a little more like a human being. Although you don't, and you choose to conform to the social rules society has so cleverly structured in our lives, just the knowledge of the possibility of being identified with is enough to motivate you to stand up, gather your belongings, and carry yourself with more confidence; with strength and grace, because you're not in over your head, after all. And those circumstances which suck, they're not a determinant of the ones to come and they're definitely not the worst circumstances this world has seen.

Sometimes, there is immense company in being alone. No one is ever alone in being alone. Every human being can identify with another on some level, and that in itself is enough comfort to keep going.

Stirrings

Restless. I am so restless and frustrated. Mainly with the fact that apparently, I don't deserve a response to the outpouring of my heart, with the fact that I never received an apology from my "best friend", and with the fact that the person that loves to invite me over at night doesn't ever want to talk about my heart or how I'm doing. And then, tonight, my absolute best friend left me without a ride after an event, left me to walk in the dark and the cold all alone. It's moments like this where even the smallest things can cut me deeper than most would be affected by it, but these actions reaffirm the worthlessness spoken into me.

And this anger stirs in my soul, a rage I know is not healthy or admirable, but a rage nonetheless. Part of me wants to throw things, to yell and demand what I deserve from the most significant people in my life, but another part of me wants to burst into tears because I even have to think of doing so. That it is even necessary for me to ask of those people what I should have been receiving all along, but I suppose life is not fair.

And they say that if you're living within unhappy circumstances to change them. To take initiative. And I fully support that statement, and I sometimes do live it out. And I would now, if it was achievable. But the unhappy circumstances are due to other people's actions towards me. And I can't change them. I can cut some of them out of my life, but some... I am required to live with. To put up with on a day to day basis. And my heart aches so much right now that my mind almost wanders to running away. Not telling a soul where I'm going and just live without these barriers and these people that hurt me, but then I remember that they also love me, too. And I'm being negative and overdramatic.

But nonetheless, I bought myself flowers tonight. So I have them here to remind me, well hey, at least I love myself, right?

Deserving

“Some people feel like they don't deserve love. They walk away quietly into empty spaces, trying to close the gaps of the past.” - John Krakauer

Leaves crumble beneath my feet as I walk down the sidewalk on this fall day, falling from the trees and making me realize the irony that those leaves are dying and yet so wonderfully beautiful. Tragically beautiful, even. And I want to tell them, those leaves that are suffering so terribly for everyone to see, that they are beautiful, astoundingly beautiful, and that their beauty is leaving an impact on everyone that sees them.

This comforts me, a wave of comfort overriding my anxious soul. A shattered soul right now, feeling ultimately like a disappointment to the ones that love me the most, but also knowing that I hold immense worth and that I deserve so much more than to feel that way. I don't deserve to feel like a disappointment to the ones I love most, and it is unfair to me that the people I love the most would even be okay with making me feel this way. My heart aches because the deepest parts of my soul long to be known, long to be searched and filled with love by the people in my life, but I ache with emptiness because these deeper parts of me have been neglected for far too long. And, as a result, I have stood up and begun to try and fill them myself because I refuse to let them run dry, I refuse to allow them to become hardened and cracked; parched for attention and love. And I wonder if they see it, I wonder if they care. I wonder if they even know that with each comment, with each disappointed glance and neglected attempt to try and understand me as a person, they are repelling me further and further away. I'm trying not to be bitter about it, but it's one of those inevitable things where it hardens you, and your calloused heart has a hard time softening, thawing out and handing out compassion because I was never offered a well-deserved apology. Because I deserve to be treated like an individual. I deserve to be treated better than I have been.

So it's no wonder that I settle for boys of lower standards than I should. Can you blame me? Can I even blame myself? My heart has been hurt so deeply by so many people, all I want is for it to relished, adored, and loved. I know that is what I deserve, and yet I'm giving myself less than what I deserve. So, essentially I am calling myself desperate. And maybe that's the term that I deserve, I'm not sure. All I'm saying is that it is something I need to work on, something I need to channel and try not to resort to as a fulfillment, but it's hard not to. It's hard to hold out for someone to hold you so lovingly, to stroke your hand and tell you everything is going to be okay when I've been going it alone for so long. Because company is good and happiness is not real unless shared.

So I'm at a crossroads here of brokenness, and contrary to popular belief, I am not trying to repress the fact that I am broken, I am fully aware of it, and will openly admit it. I know. At least I know. But I'm just trying to sort things out in my life right now, trying to decide if I want to change course, and if I do what direction I want to go in. Do I want to try to please my parents by being confined to their unreasonable expectations, or do I want to settle into the arms of someone who doesn't deserve me? Of course I don't want either of these things but my heart begs for a little more love. It begs to be addressed for the pain it has faced and apologized to. So maybe the path is just to dust myself off, love myself, and fill these parts that ache to be filled. If not me, who else, right? I deserve better than the other options I have. 

ESP 2013

40 faces glowing with excitement, with nervousness as they take their first steps into uncertainty, and the crazy thing is I was standing in their shoes just a year ago.
And look at where I am now.

Although living in a dorm for six weeks out of the summer is not exactly something I ever desired, I have done it twice now and I wouldn't change a thing.
These kids have touched me more than I think they will know, the way they look up to me and ask me for advice and words of wisdom. It is reassuring that hey, at least some people think I'm still on the right track.

9 o'clock curfews got old, but smiling faces would wander in and visit me and listen to my life, sharing similarities and connecting with me. They would point out my talents with art and creativity, and then they would share with me theirs; jamming out on the guitar and singing old country songs, theatrically singing songs from plays and movies... and I am thankful they opened up to let me know them. Curiosity got the best of them and they nagged at me about my tattoo and what it meant; and I felt so full because they cared, they wanted to know. I mattered.

Then, the people that would open up to me about their struggles, confide in me though I didn't have many answers at all... but I listened with hope that this is what life is about. The nights filled with laughs made the hard ones dealing with their shenanigans worth it. Bonding with the kids, developing a relationship where we were comfortable with each other was an amazing experience. This is why we are meant to be in relationships with each other- it leaves you feeling so full.

See, relationships aren't beneficial to one person, both people walk away changed whether they realize it or not. Because we leave prints on people's lives- we touch them with every word we say and action we carry out, and we are touched by the words and actions of others. We learn, we grow.

Now that the last five days have arrived, I am reminiscing on the times that we have shared together this summer, and I could not imagine a different way I could have spent my summer that would have been better for me than working with the Early Success Program. I have been so blessed by sharing a time of my life with these kids, and I am so thankful that they have left an impression on me that makes me want to be better, to do better. I can only hope that I have done the same.

The power that music has

Inhale, exhale.

Listen to the sound of the drums, the melody of the guitar.

They relax your spirit, and you let your guard down and begin to soak it in.

The notes of the music enter inside of you, loosening you into a sway,

Back and forth, back and forth.

You lift your arms; the build up carries you away to a distant place,

Where worries are nonexistent and regrets are forgotten.

The person you haven’t been isn’t engrained into your mind,

Right now, you are content in the moment.

Right here, right now.

You look around you, the people surrounding you, the hundreds of them,

Smiling, waving their arms, singing along, closing their eyes;

You’ve all gathered here for the same reasons:

A momentary getaway.

You’ve all gathered here because of the power that music has:

It has the power to calm you,

To change you,

To instill a different perspective in you.

It has the ability to make you reconsider what you’ve always considered to be true,

To cause you to think for once just in the moment;

Or it can take you back a few years; to the place you first heard the song,

In the backseat of your best friends car;

It can take you right back to that exact road, painting the details of that moment with every lyric and every note.

You sway, you sing, you raise your arms,

Forget the world for a little bit; in this moment, you are here.

Dancing freely

Tonight, I am returning to my blog after two months and let me tell you I have never felt so refreshed.

I feel like it happens all too often that we frame certain things from our lives so that everyone can see and think of us a certain way. Almost as if our lives have become in-dubiously about appearance rather than about really and truly living. I'm not trying to give a social media rant, but what I am trying to say is that there are, hands-down, things we simply choose not to post to Facebook for a reason. We live so deeply in the confines of impressions and appropriateness that we almost lose the zest and passion to just live and do- whatever it is that comes to mind! Nowadays, we can't even listen to music without it automatically updating to Facebook to share with the world that you're jamming to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. We are all so connected and so deeply intertwined in everyone else's lives.

Now, I am all about Spotify. It's possibly one of the greatest inventions ever, but what I'm trying to get at is that we are so busy broadcasting our lives like we're the shit, that we miss out on incredible opportunities to be ourselves. 100% completely US. Choosing to paint a painting that we created from our own inspiration rather than pulling up Pinterest and painting the same damn anchor everyone in the world has painted simply because it's on Pinterest. We can't try to be creative anymore because it involves too much energy and time. It's much easier to be like everyone else.

But the sad thing is that there's nothing more beautiful than a person that knows exactly who they are. It is one of the most inspirational things in this world- seeing the passion glowing behind someone's eyes, the life they have from knowing what they enjoy and what they don't. It's not that they turn their head up and scoff at those who are confused as to who they are and copy others- they simply don't change because others raise their eyebrows at them.

My goal is to be more okay with being me, no matter how people take it. I definitely know who I am, and I'm tired of hanging out with people who don't. I'm tired of trying to gain the approval of people who can't open their minds and experience things that make them uncomfortable. Because that's what life is about. Life is an adventure. It's filled with uncertainties and wild changes, but it is precious and it is entirely too short. I insist on enjoying my one wild and precious life. I insist on surrounding myself with people that are different and not just like me. I insist on learning from life's curveballs and taking each day as it comes. I insist on dancing freely outside the boundaries of people's expectations and judgments... on freely choosing to do what makes me happy without hesitation. I am the happiest I have ever been and I think it's because I have stopped letting people tell me who I am and what I can and cannot do. If you do life this way, it becomes a great deal more fun. I promise.

Goodbyes have never been my forte

Throwing in the towel for now; it's been fun.
I'd rather not pour my heart out on the internet... it's much too fragile to act so carelessly.
Thanks for reading.

The beauty that seeps from the cracks of an injured soul

I don’t think I’ll ever be afraid of brokenness.
In a way, I am almost attracted to it,
Attracted to the beauty that seeps from the cracks of an injured soul,
To someone humbled by their pain,
Softened and sensitive to the hurting world around them.
The people that are content with sitting alone
And won’t complain about life’s disappointments
Because they are grateful for life’s simplest blessings.
There is something beautiful about a quiet soul
That whispers words of hope,
But only in their fragile movements,
With their tender eyes that leak their pain
Without even needing to be searched.
They needn't use fluffed up words,
Rehearsed and tactically chosen to draw attention to themselves.
They accept their being small
And by no means ever expect to be important,
But they do know that every encounter
Is an opportunity to leave behind
The smallest inkling of an impact;
And hidden inside that knowledge is just enough motivation
...To keep going

And though they often exist in fragments,
They can piece together to create the most tragically beautiful story of hope
When they are noticed.

The life in your face

There is an unbelievable amount of disparities between me and you;
However, unfortunately to my own dismay, there are quite a few similarities too.
For instance, the fine line of a frown painted across your face
When the ones you love most let you down.
The way you carry your hurt along those pretty little shoulders
Into every room you enter; each disappointment leaves you a little colder.
The way you settle for the situations you are dealt with hardly even a fight.
My mind trickles towards the past and I wonder if you ever shook your head no,
If you ever did something about feeling trapped, if you ever fought to try to change that.
I can see the lines of hurt crinkled upon your brow,
Your hollow walk across the hardwoods,
And I can't help but wonder how?

Did loneliness set in and cause you to settle? Did worthlessness fool you into feeling belittled?
Is the reason two strangers stand in the kitchen because you didn't believe that you could be loved?
It's hard for me to say, but your entire life is in your face.
Your eyes scream of the countless tears, the nights spent leaking into your pillow,
The nights you cried over a dying father,
The heartache of a grudge-holding mother,
The tears shed over your balancing school and paying it off... until you eventually lost that, too.
A life of loss;
And now you walk hollowly across the floor,
You poured everything you had into your children, but were heartbroken that they did not love you more.

Your daughter came to mimic your hollow walk, and you worried especially for her.
"Don't grow up and be like me, don't make my mistakes."
But she knew that she was the one that lived a lifestyle the most like you,
She carried this with her each and every day, these burdens upon her shoulders; she learned it from you. But, still, you rebuked her for it because you wish someone had warned you.
You saw the way she carried her hurt along those jagged lines,
You propped her up and dusted her off,
As if you were saying, "Look pretty for the people, don't show them your hurt."
But then, she began to hold them in. She wanted a mother to speak to; for your approval she begged.
Each mistake she made similar to yours was another crack along your heart,
Reminders of the past, your shoulders got heavy.
It's hard to love someone representative of your hurt.
Still, she adored you. The hurt you caused her was marked along her skin, but she loved you, still.
She wanted back those days when you would sing to her, rub her spine along her back,
Humming songs to her and kissing her head.
She hated herself for growing up and becoming like you,
"I'm sorry mom, I know you told me not to."

See, but the difference between her and you is that she doesn't want to settle and she hopes for a better ending.
She has clung to words of wisdom and knows not to be angry with you.
She walks boldly now, and she knows who she is.
It hurts her that her mother still disapprovingly shakes her head, but she knows that her mothers approval isn't absolute truth.
She won't let worthlessness fool her into thinking she cannot be loved;
She wants you to know that you are worth loving, too.

"Come with me to the mountains"

"Will you come with me to the mountains? It will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?"

     -C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

Frustration, confusion. You have come to a fork in the road and you're considering which path it is you should choose to take.  The path to the right is most definitely scaling up the mountain, there is no doubt. It is jagged and rocky, steep and by no means appealing. To the left; on the contrary, is a path that appears to be scaling up the mountain, a much less treacherous and steep hike; it looks almost enjoyable, by no means rocky or dangerous. You hardly falter in your decision, as you grab your things and pace towards the left. But, almost out of nowhere, a lean young man calls after you, from the path to the right. His smile is genuine, inviting. "Will you come with me to the mountains?" He asks gently.

You are so perplexed by this stranger who seems to be so interested in your company, "I am going to the mountains, but I am going by this path, it seems much more pleasurable."

Your words paint a small frown across his face, "I assure you, that path may be more enjoyable along the way, but the view of this one, the destination is far more rewarding. Sure, it is jagged and rocky and steep; it will hurt at first, but eventually your feet will become hardened. That path is deceitful, it appears to bring you up to the top of the mountains, but it really only brings you further away."

His words confuse you even more, "Have you walked the jagged path before?"

The stranger nods his head gently, "Many times. Will you come?"

"Have you walked the other path before?" You fold your arms across your chest.

Slowly, he shakes his head, "I have invited many of my brothers and sisters to walk with me along this path instead, but many have chosen to take that one. I have never seen them at the top."

"Do you know where it leads to, if not the top?"

Remorse covers the strangers face, "Continually, they walk along the path, unwounded, yet so bounded in suffering. My path is always accessible along their way, but they hope in their path, they convince themselves that eventually they will reach the top, and then it will be worth it; surely my path must end in death. But it is quite the contrary, and they realize this all too late."

Anger fills your veins, "If you know this path ends in death, why don't you save them rather than just inviting them and watching them waltz into their death?!"

He is patient, "I have saved them, I have given them the option to take this path. I came and I made a way to the top of the mountain. Before, they could only take the other path."

You soak in his words, trying to understand, "I can't fully understand," you grumble.

He grins easily, "And you won't. You just have to believe that what I say is true. Will you come with me to the mountains?"

You sigh and look back at the easy path, "I think I would rather enjoy my walk to my ruin than hike up an exhausting and dangerous path to a better destination. I mean, I will most definitely fall and be injured on your path."

He nods, "No doubt, you will fall. Many times along my path, you will fall. But I will be with you each time that you do, and before you know it, your feet will harden and you will become stronger. You will have to persevere, but then you will find yourself in paradise."

Slowly, you stutter, "Well I will be lonely on the other path..."

"Will you come?" He holds out his hand.

You falter, wondering who this man really is; a stranger who could easily be deceiving you. But you walk towards him, leaving behind your things and you embark on the jagged path. At first, the path is not too bad, you excitedly walk beside your new friend, wanting to know all about him, how to be like him. But soon, the jagged rocks pierce your feet and you want to turn back. Through your tears, you cling to his hand and he guides you. He takes you to a nearby pool of water, he washes your wounded feet and your scabbed hands from your many falls. Your salty tears run down your face and he looks at you consolingly, "I have been wounded, too. To make this path, I was wounded for you." He holds out his hands for you to see.

You place your fingers in his scars and you wince for him, "I didn't deserve for you to do that. I doubt you, still, all too often. I think you have lied to me and I have wanted to turn back."

He shakes his head, "And you again will doubt. But no matter how many times you do, I have made a way and I delight in leading you to the mountaintops, in your company."

Your heart swells up in his kindness, in his love. You promise yourself you will persevere harder, for him, you will endure the rocky path. But the next time you trip, the blood pours from your knee and you cry in anger to him, "If you love me so much, why do you watch me suffer?"

He cries with you, "Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows, but still, will you come with me?"

You walk away from the path to a pool of water, in disgust, you wash your wound yourself, but it swells and it burns, "I will walk alone."And for a few days and nights, you do. But you trip, you stumble. He tries to near you, but stubbornly you tell him you don't need his help. It is not long before you realize that without him, the path is not as fulfilling; that you hurt more, and your mere attempts to clean out your wounds are in vain. You curl up on the ground and you bring yourself low, "I was wrong, so terribly wrong. This hike is nothing if you are not with me."

He wraps you up, he pieces your cuts together, he holds you in his arms, "I was always with you. I never left."

Through tears, you correct yourself, "This hike is nothing if it is not for you. In return. For your love. I don't deserve you."

"And yet you always have me," he smiles at you.

You sit up, strengthened by him being with you, "Will you come to the mountains with me? My feet are still sore, but they will become hardened. I walk in the shadows still, but will you come?"

The Truth will set you free

This is not the woman I want to be; clinging to these words that the Enemy sneaks into my mind, to these lies rather than to what I know is true. Oh, he is so good at what he does... belittling me and making me doubt. He just loves that I carry these lies with me everywhere I go; he is so excited that they weigh me down. When I look in the mirror they scream at me, sometimes they can be all that I see: Worthless. Negative. Lazy. Depressed. Not beautiful enough. Not skinny enough. Obnoxious. Lonely. Selfish. My every flaw haunts me. My past creeps into my present and I cry out to my Father and I say, "Oh, Jesus, will I ever defeat these lies?"

He responds lovingly yet humorously, "No, precious. But I have." I am overwhelmed with peace. "But, you see, so long as you focus on these lies, you'll fall underneath their weight. But if, instead, you focus your attention on Me, because I am the Truth, I will lift you so far above those lies that the next time they creep into your mind, you will know to turn to Me. And then this will gradually become a habit, turning to Me when those lies attempt to bring you down."

So instead of focusing on the word 'negative' in an attempt to not be negative, I should just focus on the word 'positive'. This seems so simple writing it out, but the real struggle is living it out. And so, naturally, I am about to use a really cheesy musical metaphor.

I have played piano for about 6 years. And the funniest thing that I noticed while frustratedly pounding through a song is that as long as I am focusing on the part that I always mess up at, I will always mess up at it. But if I begin to play and just really let the music make me focus on the sheer enjoyment of playing, I end up making it through the song. When I cautiously play, dreading that one part I know is my weak spot, I always end up messing up and walking away frustrated. But when I go into it knowing the parts I'm good at and wanting to simply enjoy those, I accidentally end up not messing up.

So if, instead of focusing on these lies that the Enemy plants in my mind, I choose to focus on my Heavenly Father and the truth He declares over my life, I might accidentally become far less sensitive to those lies. Because, if I go into the "song" knowing my strong suits: Jesus' truth about me, I will accidentally end up so focused on those truths that I make it through the part I am not so good at: those moments when a lie is planted in my mind.

This is the woman I want to be; clinging to these words that the Father speaks into my soul, to these truths rather than to the lies the Enemy tries to fool me into seeing as true. Oh, He is so good at what He does... speaking worth into me and making me firm in faith. He just loves that I carry these truths with me everywhere I go; He is so excited that they vindicate me. When I look in the mirror, I can declare His truths about me and know that I, indeed:
Am a LIGHT. Am NEVER alone. Am able to find JOY in my weaknesses. Am a SELFLESS servant. Have so much worth that He lowered Himself to death... even death on a CROSS!
My every strength assures me. My past is NOT my present and I cry out to my Father and I say, "Oh, Jesus, thank You! When I am in CONSTANT communication with You, I have overcome the lies!"

The Father wants us to delight in our freedom; He already saved us from the bondage of our sin! Why do we still choose to submit to the bondage of our faults and our sins? Where the spirit of The Lord is, there is freedom!! (2 Corinthians 3:17)

"To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, 'If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.'"

John 8:31-32

Won through Your selfless love.

Our Eternal Father, Jesus Christ is risen! They tried to kill Him, but they couldn't.
With enough power in His hands to heal the wounded, the dead, the blind,
He submitted to the punishment we deserved and took each step with love and selflessness.
"Father forgive them," he pleaded with God of the men that had spat and cursed at Him, of those who had wanted Him killed, "for they know not what they do." The love of our Savior was endless and true.

Jesus was not intimidated or scared by death, and neither should we because we know that he defeated death; He walked out of the grave, and because of this, we will as well!
Jesus came for us, not in righteous anger or in judgment, but He came for us in love.
And if we are to be like Him, if we are to walk like Him, we are to walk every step of every day in love. Even when we are being persecuted against, we are to be patient and kind because we know the will of God and we know that their eyes have not been opened.
So when we remember that Jesus came as a servant, without being recognized as the Son of God, when we remember that he was crucified with murderers and thefts, and rose, as He claimed He would, and yet was still doubted and called a liar, we should grasp how little we are on this earth and that the way of our Father does not result in worldly praise or acceptance; but Eternal. His love made a way for us into eternity, it touched the poor, the lonely, and those that had defied and persecuted His followers.

And here we are on this Easter Sunday, remembering the stories and searching for our eggs. After reflecting on the life of Jesus today, I really grasped that Jesus is pressing on our hearts and asking us to imitate the way that He lived. Because it's not just about the cross, about an empty tomb; it is about a Savior that is all-powerful in authority and in love. He overcame death and for that we should praise His name, but we must also remember that He loved the unlovable. Those that cursed against Him and those that betrayed Him. Jesus did not tremble at death and neither should we; Jesus loved his enemies and so should we. And so, we should urgently and fervently love and spread the hope of Jesus Christ as though our time is fleeting, because it is. He proclaims, "I am coming soon!" How numb we have grown to this saying we hear every Easter. But each day that passes, He is closer to returning and our time to spread His love is running out. It shouldn't be a chore, something we feel we need to do in return for His crucifixion; every cell in our body should desire to love those around us, both the lovable and the unlovable, because we should want to be like our Father. We are able to preach the words of our Savior with our actions, through love because that was every fiber of Jesus' being. He was love. He came and He left in love. He is the only way that we can hope all things, endure all things.

"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." 

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

This verse is used all too often to describe spouses or boyfriends and girlfriends while it so clearly matches every aspect of Jesus. He is each of these things! He is patient and He is kind, He doesn't envy or boast- even after He defeated the grave. He is not arrogant or rude, insisting on His own way, He gave us free will so that we have the ability to choose. He is not irritable or resentful; He grieves at wrongdoing and rejoices with the truth because He is the truth. Our Jesus definitely hoped in the truth and endured and bore our many sins upon this earth. This passage is clearly describing our Savior; the definition of love. So we, too, should be immovable in love because our Father is trustworthy and credibile! His love made a way for us and our mistakes are overlooked by His authority. He is calling us home, but it would be selfish not to share this with those who have hurt us, those that persecute us. Because I have hurt and persecuted Jesus with my actions one too many times, and His forgiveness is always faithful. So we should be patient and kind with even those who hurt us. We should not envy or boast in anything but our Savior. Everything we do should point back to Jesus, rather than insisting on our own way. We shouldn't be irritable or resentful, rejoicing when our enemies do wrong because we should remember the grace that Has been given to us. We should rejoice in the truth and in Jesus. We should bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things as Jesus endured our sins.

"Oh, to see my name

Written in the wounds,

For through your suffering I am free.

Death is crushed to death,

Life is mine to live,

            Won through Your selfless love."  

Covered by the scandal of grace.

The Father's arms are always wide open... Even when His children mess up. When we deliberately disobey. He always claims us. He commands us not to do something, and even after we do it, completely taking for granted His sacrifice and mercy, He yet again covers us with grace and does not hold our shortcomings against us. He doesn't ask us to hide the evidence of our mistakes in the presence of other people, He loves and accepts us just as we are... always.

He doesn't angrily yell rude or harsh things that cut you to the core; His goal is not to belittle you, it is to grow you. His forgiveness is unreal and such a beautiful thing that no human is capable of replicating it. His forgiveness is the result of His perfection.

As humans, we often spew out lies in a rage of hurt and anger in a pitiful effort to make ourselves feel better. But Jesus doesn't need to feel better about Himself. And when we realize our worth and meaning in His name, gradually, the need to make ourselves feel better lessens because we are His! And we are covered by this incredible scandal of grace that we don't deserve in the least.

Remember the story of Adam and Eve: they began to doubt God's command for them and thought of themselves and becoming more like God; their desire to make themselves bigger. After this, they covered themselves up and hid the fact that they had disobeyed. But the Lord called to them and spoke without hate or disgust. He laid out the consequences of their deliberate disobedience, but still, He chose to cover them in garments of skin-- much nicer than the fig leaves they had provided themselves with. He chose to cover them in grace. And then He gave His son's life in exchange for their disobedience.

I am caught up in this grace that I do not deserve, and though I accept, still fail to relish and appreciate it to it's full extent. I know I literally blog about this all the time, but I guess it's just something I cannot get over. I see symbols of His love and forgiveness all the time. And though they aren't a perfect match, the imperfections in them make me all the more astounded at the complete selflessness of Jesus' mercy.

You see, I recently made the decision to deliberately disobey my parents. They warned me the consequences of my actions, but I was solely concerned with my desires. I didn't understand why they disapproved, but I suppose neither did Adam and Eve. It's just one of those things where, here God was letting them live in this beautiful garden to freely eat anything but that one tree, and their focus was on that one tree rather than the rest of the garden. While my parents said no to one thing I wanted, they have given me so incredibly much and made so many sacrifices for me throughout my whole life. But, selfishly, I could only focus on the one thing they disapproved of that I really wanted. Now I sit here in the consequences and it truly makes me sick that I have disappointed them so much, but I also rejoice in their ability to forgive me like my precious Father in heaven has forgiven us. I have brought heartache to them, but they still bless me with their love and approval; they still claim me.

I see and understand now how truly selfish I was being in my decision to disobey my parents, and am so ashamed of my decision to go behind my parents' back instead of seeking a compromise and sitting down with them and trying to talk with them. They did not deserve my defiance, but they have chosen to love me in spite of it. I truly have learned to look at what I do have instead of what I don't have. I was looking at the boundaries instead of the huge amounts of blessings my parents have lavished on me, sacrificing their time and their desires so that I can be happy. Their selflessness makes me embarrassed of my selfish decision to disobey them.

And now, this parallel has reminded me just how unreal it is that the Father has forgiven me. That He forgives me. Time and time again. He doesn't keep count and He doesn't hold the many sins I commit against me and make me feel guilty about them. My mind just cannot fathom this kind of love and grace. Jesus continues to show me what true love looks like and I so desperately want to continue to follow in His steps.

"The Lord is compassionate and gracious,

    slow to anger, abounding in love.

9 He will not always accuse,

    nor will he harbor his anger forever;

10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve

    or repay us according to our iniquities.

11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

    so great is his love for those who fear him;

12 as far as the east is from the west,

    so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

13 As a father has compassion on his children,

    so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him"

                                                                                                    Psalm 103:8-13 

 

Taste and see that the Lord is good!

Today, I had an amazing conversation with an incredibly strong woman of God who openly confessed, "I read your blog." After her "confession," we proceeded to talk about our similar struggles and similar frustrations. "I just don't know how you so openly post about all of your struggles... you are so brave."

After she said these words, I sort of sat for a moment and remembered my journey to becoming comfortable with being so transparent. My mind flashed back to high school, to wearing long sleeves, to wasting away because of all the anger I held inside. To putting on a face for my family, to feeling so completely alone with everything I went through. I began to think that because I was struggling I was not worthy of Jesus, that I was not worthy of going to church because I wasn't as "good" as everyone else. I felt judged from everyone around me and allowed so many lies to fill my mind that I began to see them as the truth.

But I was missing the entire picture of who Jesus is. He doesn't love me for my perfection, He loves me despite my imperfections (each and every one of them). If I was perfect, the story of Jesus and His crucifixion would lose so much of it's beauty. So shouldn't I rejoice in my weaknesses? My shortcomings? My struggles? The hardships that I face are not something to hide from others so that I can appear seemingly perfect, they are opportunities to point upward to Christ saying, "yeah, I mess up all the time. I am not perfect. But He loves me the same each time."

Coming to Clemson, I learned the valuable lesson that Jesus' wisdom is sufficient to bring good out of every one of my problems. Each hardship I face, problem I encounter has the ability to transform me little by little into the masterpiece that Jesus created me to be. My mistakes and struggles mold me into a more beautiful person, so shouldn't I overflow with joy because of them? I remember asking God "Why me? It's not fair!" But to my own dismay, 3 months later, I am telling a twenty-something year old, "I would not change a thing because I learned to love my imperfections, to rejoice in hardships and be thankful for them."

After over an entire year of being clean from cutting, while in relationship with Christ, I relapsed and felt absolutely terrible. I hid it. I was ashamed. Back in the same exact place I had been in high school. But I grieved to the Lord and He filled my heart. He reminded me of His goodness, that He works everything for my good (Romans 8:28) and that just because I struggle with the same thing does not make me any less a Christian... just human. And then, I stumbled across the incredibly comforting Psalm 34:

"I will extol the Lord at all times;

    his praise will always be on my lips.

 I will glory in the Lord;

    let the afflicted hear and rejoice.

Glorify the Lord with me;

    let us exalt his name together.

 I sought the Lord, and he answered me;

    he delivered me from all my fears.

 Those who look to him are radiant;

    their faces are never covered with shame.

This poor man called, and the Lord heard him;

    he saved him out of all his troubles.

The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him,

    and he delivers them.

Taste and see that the Lord is good;

    blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.

Fear the Lord, you his holy people,

    for those who fear him lack nothing.

The lions may grow weak and hungry,

    but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.

Come, my children, listen to me;

    I will teach you the fear of the Lord.

Whoever of you loves life

    and desires to see many good days,

 keep your tongue from evil

    and your lips from telling lies.

Turn from evil and do good;

    seek peace and pursue it.

The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous,

    and his ears are attentive to their cry;

but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil,

    to blot out their name from the earth.

The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them;

 he delivers them from all their troubles.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted

    and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

The righteous person may have many troubles,

 but the Lord delivers him from them all;

he protects all his bones,

    not one of them will be broken.

Evil will slay the wicked;

    the foes of the righteous will be condemned.

The Lord will rescue his servants;

    no one who takes refuge in him will be condemned."

Oh this passage hit me so hard... I will extol the Lord AT ALL TIMES. Not just when life is happy-go-lucky and not simply when life is difficult. All the time. Highs and lows. Through seasons of joy and seasons of hardships. His praise will ALWAYS be on my lips. Oh, and when I look to Him, He makes me radiant! Shining with joy, he restores and revives me! I never have to look down with shame, even if I just messed up... even if I feel unworthy.

I find it especially interesting that this passage says both "His praise will always be on my lips" and "Taste and see that the Lord is good." This could be a stretch, but this could be insinuating that as long as His praise is on our lips, we can taste His goodness. Even when we don't praise Him, we can know He is good, but I think that really tasting His goodness requires us to praise Him, to thank Him each and every day for His outpouring of blessings onto our lives.

When we taste his goodness, we are reminded that even when we mess up and fail, He is still good and we can still praise Him. And I think this is where we learn to boast in our shortcomings. This gives us the ability and courage to speak out about our struggles with confidence and strength. So no matter what tomorrow brings, we can be confident that the Lord is good and that He is able to bring good from everything. Once we realize this, our lives should become more about showing His goodness through our hardships rather than trying to make ourselves look good by hiding our imperfections.

Small, indeed.

What we do may feel insignificant,
Of little impact, petty.
We are not called to do big things,
But just do that which we can
With excellence and love,
To point it back to Him.

The power of our past

“This is heart wrenching!” I watched my aunt breath heavily, releasing the tears building up in her eyes so that they could roll down her beat red cheeks.

We all stood with our faces glued to the window, watching the small lights blinking in the black of night until we knew that his plane had launched into the air, its destination: Okinawa, Japan.

A lump had formed hard in my throat before I finally gave in to allowing my tears to freely fall. Two years is too long for a mother to go without seeing her son. Two years is such a long time for a brave young man to agree to spend in Japan. But the beautiful thing about my cousin, Will, is that he doesn’t think that way. He does not think selfishly, but selflessly knowing that his duty in life is simply to serve.

His life has not been easy, it’s been full of ups and downs, naturally as life contains highs and lows. But Will had every excuse in the book to grow up and be angry, bitter, numb. Beautifully, though, he turned into quite the opposite: a strong young man with a zest and love for life, for peace. 

Growing up, long stretches of highways and stop lights kept our families limited to the amount of visits shared together, but coming home and being able to spend time with him before he left, I grew to admire him so much. The last night before his plane left, I brought a bowl of cookie dough and asked him if he wanted to share some. Across the bar in my basement he sat and shared stories with me about his training. Getting a spoonful of cookie dough, he said, “I got my wisdom teeth out while I was off training.”

“Did they put you to sleep?” I said, leaning over the wood bar, on my tiptoes.

“No, but they gave me a few shots to numb my mouth.” He looked down at the cookie dough.

My mouth instantly dropped, “You were wide awake? Did you hear everything?”

He nodded calmly despite my dramatic response; “I heard them break my teeth so they could get them out. It wasn’t bad though. The worst part was pulling the gauze out myself and seeing the blood fill the sink.”

I cringed, pulling my shoulders towards my head, “Oh my gosh, I can’t even imagine! Did you get to rest?!”

“Yeah! And then, the next day I was back out and training. It really wasn’t bad.” He nonchalantly scooped up the last bit of cookie dough, a smile still present on his face.

I shook my head in disbelief, “Cheers to you,” I held up my cup of chocolate milk, knocking it against his empty cup. He laughed and walked off to get some rest. I threw the plastic spoons in the trashcan and walked towards my room.

Lying in bed that night, I was still so astounded at what Will had shared with me. How strong he was reminded me of how selfish I can be and I realized how quickly perspective can change after exchanging stories with someone who has seen and been places that you have never even been close to experiencing.

It took catching up with my cousin to slap me across the face and remind me that I am not here on this earth to simply live for myself. It is stories like this that touch the hearts of people and I literally had the opportunity to experience Jesus’ love simply by being with Will for two days.

Before we left the airport, my mom hugged my aunt, whispering, “He’s a good kid.”

My aunt nodded, “Yeah, he is.”  

Sacrifice is beautiful; it warms the heart, especially when the person being sacrificed for has done hardly anything to deserve the sacrifice.

There are so many who choose to stay comfortable, to turn down opportunities because they don’t want to miss out on time spent with their family or friends; because they don’t want to leave where they love. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my family and hate the thought of missing out an any time with them, but sometimes following your call is painful and utterly heart wrenching. Of course you are going to miss your family, you are going to hurt along the journey, but when I think about Will’s amazing opportunity, everything in me longs to step up. To hear people’s stories, go places I have never seen, do things I have never experienced. Why have we all reached the conclusion that the fullest life is sacrificing as little as possible and leaving your comfort zone a tolerable amount of times?

We need to be afraid, to feel urgency, to be excited and nervous. We need adventure, desperately; to trust what God has in store for us rather than thinking we can handle it. We need to say yes to that which we want to say no to, we need to do the unexpected, to do things for others in order to learn more about ourselves.

When I think about Will and who he has grown up to be, I swell with excitement and hope for the future. You see, our past has the power to make us bitter, or to change us for the better. Will took his disappointments and his painful memories and allowed them to shape him into someone who wanted to bring CHANGE. He allowed them to mold him into someone different. 

We have so much power, so much ability to change the things that we face, to affect others who are in low places where we have been. Instead, we complain, we become absorbed in ourselves and our own difficulties. Unaware of our power; what good will that do?