what I've been hiding for 14 weeks

Nausea all day and all night. A jar of pickles (or two). A can of jellied cranberry sauced. One pair of jeans. What do these things have in common?

They're all things I went through in the first 14 weeks of my pregnancy. Yup, that's right folks. If you haven't heard already, Mr. Adams and I are expecting our first baby June 1st, 2015. To say we are excited is a complete understatement, and yet I can't find any better words to explain my feelings. I have waited my whole life to see those two pink lines that say, "Yes, you are. No kidding." I've always wanted to be a momma, and now the good Lord in all His wondrous grace and mercy and love has seen fit to place this little person to grow inside of me and be mine and my husband's firstborn. Truly, we are in for a treat.

But what I've really been wanting to tell you is how much of a miracle our baby is. Of course, yes, every baby is a beautiful miracle; a special someone; a unique and specific individual whose life will never be repeated or replaced. But for those of you who know me, this has been a long, winding, hesitant road that started before I even hit junior high. I can finally tell you why my baby simply being conceived is a miracle.

From the day I received my "gift" from mother nature that indicated my body was even the least bit fertile, I had difficulties. I went through over a decade of doctors and different treatments to regulate my body and ease the discomforts that came with it. While relief and successful treatment finally came in my late sophomore year of college, the troubles did not end. I had been told since before I was 16 years old that I might have difficulty having children, if I was able to at all.
You see, there's only a tiny window of opportunity for a woman to become pregnant, and some windows are better than others. My doctors couldn't guarantee that my body was opening that window at all. But because I was under hormonal treatment 24/7, in order to have children, I would have to quit the treatment, and possibly endure what I already had for over a decade, which still wouldn't allow my body the time to conceive. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I wondered how my husband and I would walk this rocky path. It would take a miracle to see my body balance and function as it should in order for us to have children. But I never thought to ask God for a miracle. Maybe I had said, "Lord I need this to happen," but I know I never believed it was actually possible for God to heal my body. It never even crossed my mind!

If you've ever doubted the importance of the church community in your life, turn your back on that doubt now, and know that your brothers and sisters in Christ within the Church are some of the most valuable people you can have in your life. I didn't even think to consider a miracle for myself until a dear friend of ours began praying for me consistently. She and her family are so diligent in their prayers, down to the smallest child, that I couldn't help but wonder why I would ask others to pray for me, but not pray for myself. "Ask and you shall receive."

As I began to pray for myself, and turn my heart and mind to a level of faith I didn't know existed, I began to understand that miracles are not a thing of the past. God is very much alive and at work, and His Spirit flows within us, ready to do His bidding. All I had to do was ask and believe that God is who He says He is, and that He can do what He has always done - the impossible.

When I quit my hormonal treatment so that we could start trying to conceive, I was a mess. I was worried and anxious that my body would return to its old state and that I would suffer through more testing and treating, never to see any end to the misfortunes of an unbalanced body. But after three months without any hormonal assistance, my body was functioning well and proper, and my health had improved by leaps and bounds. My cycles were a little short, but nothing unusual and nothing discomforting.

By nothing other than the gracious hand of God, I received my miracle.

In month four, we found out we were pregnant, and now we are well on our way to meeting a little girl or boy who is going to be so dearly loved, and who will be taught just how much God had to do in order for them to come into this world. If you are needing a miracle, small or big, know that God does indeed have the power to make it happen and He is more than willing! Our God longs to hear our prayers and requests so that He can answer and show Himself as the faithful and loving God that He is!

some words are just dumb

Confession. I hate the word "compatible."

Where did this idea of compatibility come from and why is it so seemingly important in the world today? It's as silly to me as the idea of soul mates and prince charming. I'm sorry, but there's just no such thing Cinderelly.

Let's talk about this though. For real. The idea of compatibility promises something unachievable. "If you find that one, perfectly compatible person and date/marry them, all will be well." But it's not true, and it simply can't be. There is no "one" person. And certainly there is no perfect person either (come on wives, can I hear an amen? Hehe, just kidding, just kidding!).
The truth is that those of us who are married could have married someone else, and still have a loving, lasting, fulfilling marriage. It would definitely look completely different, and we would do different things, talk about different things, and argue about different things. But just because it was someone else doesn't mean the marriage is doomed to fail. Those of you who are still dating could start seeing someone else and still have a decent, positive relationship. And the world wouldn't end! Love would still be very much alive!

The point of relationships is not just to make us happy or give us what we want (like butterflies and kisses). The point of relationships is to teach us, change us, help us grow, and encourage us to become more and more like Jesus every day. In a way, they're there to expose our selfishness, and bring it under control. I remember my old dental hygienist telling me, "You get married, and you realize how selfish you are. Then you have kids, and you realize how selfish you still are!"
In marriage, we bind ourselves to this person that we care deeply for and pledge our love, life, and body to them. Let's face it. Sometimes we're not exactly compatible. He likes soda and she likes tea. He likes anime and she likes romantic comedies. He likes the toilet paper under, she likes it over. "Good Lord! There's too many differences! We must not be compatible!" No, my friend, you're simply different, because you're simply human. If you were exactly alike, I'd say either you're robots, or someone is lying. A lot.

I know my husband and I probably would have never been thought of as "compatible." We are completely different! But the beauty of my husband's flaws (and mine), is that we learn to work together. We take our personalities and we throw them into this big pot called LIFE that's filled with things like conflict and finances and children and beliefs and upbringing and mannerisms and all sorts of crazy human antics. And if we don't watch it, it can burn and boil over and cause a big mess, not just for us, but for everyone close to us. But if we learn to balance the recipe, keep it at a simmer, and stir occasionally, we create something beautiful, enjoyable, consistent, and encouraging to others. And ultimately, we make way for God to do amazing things through us and our marriage.

If you're dating, and thinking you have to find someone "compatible," just stop. There isn't a perfect man or woman out there for you. But there are people. Lots of people. Good people. Many of them are people that you would say, "I kinda like this person," after a couple conversations, but they also probably won't be the last. Don't be so quick to right someone off as "not compatible" simply because you're from different backgrounds or have separate interests, or even because you don't find them overly attractive right off the bat. Some of the best relationships come from unlikely friendships. Little did I know my marriage started in high school. I only saw my husband in the morning at the cafeteria tables, and occasionally at soccer, and we hardly talked. Now, he's my best friend, and I'm always glad I said "yes" to him.

desires not my own

On this quiet Saturday morning I am happy to enjoy some time to lay peacefully in my bed and reflect on all that makes up the current state of affairs in my life. Sure, I reflect often on my life, but most of the time, I feel rushed and stressed about it, as if I will run out of time to figure out what the heck I'm doing. I quickly move on to other things because, well, life calls, and it stops for no one.

In moments like this morning, I begin visualizing myself - who I want to be, who I am, what I'm doing with my time - all the "me" stuff that stresses me daily. But somewhere in my musings, I dissipate, and find someone I don't quite recognize standing in the placid and colorful corners of my mind. Yes, it's still me; just a little bit different version of me. A me I never knew could be. And when I look at this me, I see desires and loves and wishings and hopes that I barely gave thought to long ago. They're like those things you daydream about, but quickly say, "Ah, it could never be," but less whimsical. These desires have far more substance and clout. You only say it couldn't be because you have yet to experience them.

In conversations with my sweet husband, we've found that his daydreams tend to dwell in lands of adventure and bravery, and he carries a burden for glory. He lives in places where he can solve any problem and do the unimaginable - similar to the daydreams of anyone else. Mine, however, are far less fanciful. I daydream about the everyday and the simple. Every now and then something whimsical pops in - the common ideas of popularity and greatness in doing something you're good at - but it quickly fades because, "Ah, it could never be."
Perhaps I hold less hope than others because I am so quick to dismiss, what might be called, the impossible. I've never thought myself to be designed for glory or greatness as this world would have it. I believe I have learned to be okay with that; with being small and simple. I can accept it on most days; on others, not so much.
On the other hand, maybe I have a better understanding that to be faithful in small things is to be faithful in great things. So I don't waste time wishing for things that are not to be. Perhaps it's a little of both.

"Even so, I have noticed one thing, at least, that is good. It is good for people to eat, drink, and enjoy their work under the sun during the short life God has given them, and to accept their lot in life." (Ecclesiastes 5:18)

This morning, I am thankful for the desires and loves that God continues to grow in my heart. Perhaps I am made more for a simple life than most people would be able to put up with. Whatever the truth, I have watched myself grow to love people I never would have loved of my own will. They are tough to love, and I can be so impatient. But God is so full of love, and I love them because he does, and soon enough I love them myself. And now I am witnessing the birth of desires in my heart that I only daydreamed about. Things that have substance and are valuable and can be achieved have begun to have more weight in my hand than so many other things I keep fooling myself into thinking I need. Don't get me wrong, some days I say, "It's impossible," or, "It's not for me." I know I am wrong though. I can only assume that God is at work, because these are not the things I would choose if given the option. Or are they?...

I lay myself down at the foot of God, but what I am offering was already his to begin with.
And the truth is that I have always been burdened with glorious purpose, simply because I was created.

A story to be told

Saturday morning my husband and I got up early in hopes of making some progress in our search for a new vehicle. For those who don't know, our Dodge Stratus had recently morphed into a brick that now had no talent except for its ability to take up a parking space, and our F-150 was discovered to be on the verge of leaving us stranded somewhere. Amazingly, the truck had managed to keep going for the past 8,000 miles. Talk about the good Lord watching out for us. Needless to say, we've been hunting for a while. To be honest, it had really only been about a month since we started looking, but by Saturday, things had already become stressful and frustrating. To be frank, I am the type who loses heart rather quickly.
Let's face it, most people these days can't afford a brand new vehicle, and used cars are the more common choice as of late. Thank you recession! Unfortunately, we were looking at dismal options as possible solutions to our need for a car. Either we would have to fix our truck, which meant a lot of money that we knew not where it would come from, or we would purchase another salvage vehicle that would also need some type of repair. Neither seemed the right choice in my gut, but I felt it wasn't going to matter what I liked or didn't like or what I wanted. I was going to have to settle for whatever we could get for our little money.

Enter the mighty hand of God.

Saturday we got up and I made us breakfast. Scrambled eggs and cinnamon rolls. I like to put in a little more effort when we have a free Saturday morning. While I finished getting ready, my dear husband took our truck to get the oil changed in hopes of seeing some improvement in the engine behavior. When he returned, we headed to a Toyota dealership on the opposite side of town.
Now let it be known, we had one purpose for this trip, and that was to see what we could potentially get back if we traded in our truck. The outlook was pretty dim; a pre-salvage truck with lots of body damage, over 179,000 miles on it, and an engine that needed to be replaced. We hoped for $6000 for it, but knew that was highly unlikely. Who on earth would pay us that price for such a piece of junk? I know I wouldn't.

As we drove to the lot, I held my husband's hand and prayed to God for favor with the people we talked to, wisdom to make good choices for us and for our finances, and that the trip would at least teach us something and give us an idea of what direction to take afterward. I wasn't expecting what happened when we got there.

A sweet, amiable young man - let's call him Anthony (because that's his name) - greeted us and sat us down, and quickly asked us what we were looking for. We made our intentions clear, and we mutually knew where we stood and where we could bend, but also where we wouldn't budge. First we test-drove a vehicle. A 2010 Toyota Prius. I honestly thought I would hate this vehicle. I had sat in one at a salvage yard and was unimpressed and uncomfortable. But with gas mileage like that, I could deal. Beggars can't be choosers after all. Now God bless this young man, but maybe the first thing you say about a car is not how it won't decapitate you or cut off your legs in an accident. At least he was thorough. We got in and as my husband drove, I found myself falling in love with this car. I knew not to get too excited though; after all, we couldn't really make a purchase if things didn't go right. But at least I got a feel for the vehicle. Maybe the older one at the salvage yard that needed a whole new door would work out after all. We drove some more and Anthony talked to us about his one-year-old son, and soon we were back at the lot. It's a lovely car, shiny, and much newer than anything else we've looked at. Let's not hold our breath though. But here's where it gets good...

We went back inside and Anthony began to talk numbers with us. Again we made it plain what we needed to get back for our truck in order to be anywhere near capable of making a purchase. He went to see his guy, and when he came back, the answer was, "We'll give you $3000 for your truck." With a small lowering of our spirits, my husband expressed that he appreciated it, but the math just wouldn't work, and we were already preparing to leave. "Let me see what I can do," Anthony returns. He leaves again and goes to see someone else. My husband and I talk and jest with each other, expecting very little because, well, it's a piece of junk. Anthony returns, but he's accompanied by a broad-chested, tall gentleman who makes me feel like a mouse. Immediately I'm intimidated, but thankfully my sweet husband sits tall and holds his ground. The burly man explains to us that he can give us $4500 for the truck, but that's all as they do check the local auctions and sales to see what it runs for. Again we tell him we appreciate it and we understand his position, but the math just isn't in our favor without $6000 for the truck. Unexpectedly, "Let me see what I can do," and Anthony and the burly man are off again to the small back room. We wait again, trying to keep a positive outlook, and believing that our trip is over, and we'll be exiting the lot soon in our rattling truck.

Anthony returns again, with yet another character, of whom I'm much more pleased with. He's a slender man, about average height, and his demeanor makes me feel like I've known him for a while. Almost as if he was a next-door neighbor that loaned me a cup of sugar once. "We will give you $5500 for your truck today." The words come out, my husband does some quick calculations on my phone's calculator, and neither of us let slip the fact that our stomachs are turning with joy. I can see in my husband's face the sheer pleasure of having stood his ground and reaping the benefits of being firm with salesmen. "We can do that," he says, and the slender man smiles a kind smile that makes me glad. He shakes our hands and leaves us to Anthony to take care of the paperwork.

With butterflies in my stomach and a slight disbelief that we are actually about to make our first car purchase as a married couple, I soon find myself in a small office with Jason and the gentleman putting together our financing papers. After four hours, we're emptying the truck of our belongings and transferring them to a 2010 Toyota Prius, fully loaded with leather seats, GPS, a nice sound system, and the best gas mileage you can get outside of a fully electric car. It's perfect. It's exactly what we needed for the season we're in, and for the seasons to come.

I had spent an entire day that week depressed and discouraged about our situation, but my husband urged me to lift up my head and to thank God for the squeeze He placed on us. For the past three and a half years we've lived peacefully and with little financial struggles, praise God. But the weekend reminded us just how faithful our God is, and how He does see the things we need, and how He does care about those things. In our time of need, God saw our finances and the numbers we needed to make it all work. He saw what we needed in a vehicle, and set it aside before we knew where it was. He had us spend hours of annoying research so that we would come to an agreement on what we were looking for; a lesson in communication. Above all, the vehicle I sit in now with my husband as we drive to and fro reminds me that I can trust God; that I can lay my requests at His feet; that I don't have to worry about where the money will come from; that He is always good; that He always has a plan.

We serve a faithful God, and I hope that if you ever see me in our Prius, or you see a Prius on the road, that you are reminded of that truth.

a book can be a dangerous thing

Fifty Shades of Grey.

Almost everyone has heard of this book by now, and many women of all ages have read it and are currently obsessed with it. It's become so popular now that it's being adapted as a motion picture to be released in February of 2015.

No, I haven't read it. No, I don't plan to do so, and I don't plan to see the film either. You see, I have a problem with this type of fiction; several problems in fact. While I know that many people, women especially, will think I'm crazy and disagree with me completely, I'm going to do my best to explain why I can't and won't read or watch this story.

Note: For my own information, I did some reading on the synopsis and have read many things about what goes on in these books.

1. Pornography for the Ladies

Let's talk about the fact that this book is in the erotic genre, grouped in with romance novels and the like. I know that lots of women read these types of novels on a daily basis and often can't get enough of them. All of these types of books appeal to the minds of women because they include romance, being desired, mysterious and intriguing men, and all other manner of things that we are hard-wired to fall for and be enticed by. You don't realize it, but you're reading pornography, and it's been specifically designed for you. It is designed to give you butterflies and make you fantasize about a man like the one you're reading. In the case of Fifty Shades of Grey, Christian Grey is designed to appeal to your senses - wealthy, intriguing, mysterious, handsome, confident, and a few secrets of his own. Even Ana is designed to appeal to you - innocent, pretty, but insecure about herself, career-minded, longing for love, etc. What woman doesn't relate to her character? If the book didn't cause you to relate, or hint at your deepest desires, it wouldn't be selling and bringing in profit.

Erotic and romance novels work practically the same way that porn works in men. While men get flooded with images of the aspects they like visually and audibly, thus causing them to keep clicking through images, we women get flooded with emotion and concepts that keep us turning the pages. You've been duped, and now you're sucked in to keep buying the next book that comes out.

2. Emotionally Strung Out

Now that you're reading pornography, let's think about how this affects you. The relationship between Christian and Ana is so full of drama, white-hot attraction, and sexual tension that you can't put it down and you don't realize what's going on in your heart and mind. As you continue to read, you're steadily allowing your ideas about romance, sex, and relationships to be manipulated. Your expectations for boyfriends and husbands and marriage are changed, maybe even lowered.

Many times we say, "This won't affect me," when it would actually have to be outside of reality for it not to affect you. Don't lie to yourself. Soon the desires of your heart aren't just to be romanced, desired, pursued, and loved. You want men to behave the way the men in the books do. You want the mystery, the drama, and the tension because that's what gives you butterflies; that's what makes you feel good. You want to know all his secrets, even the dirty ones, and then once you've gotten involved, you want him to change for you. Because he loves you, and all that jazz. I'm sorry to say...

3. People Change, But Then Again They Don't

I've been married for over three years now, and spent five dating the same man before that. I can safely tell you that my husband has changed, but he's also still the same man he was eight years ago. Sure, his desires and interests change and fluctuate, but he still has the same personality and struggles with the same problems; some that go back before we even met. Make no mistake, marriage does not mean the man before you will change. You don't get a happily ever after and the perfect man simply because he put a ring on it. Marriage takes work, and so does any good and proper relationship. It also means that whatever baggage either of you had doesn't get left at the door when you cross the threshold. It nestles itself into the corners of your home and rears its head from time to time in ways you didn't think it could.

If you think that what you read and watch has no effect on your way of thinking or behavior, think again. Porn, sexual desire, and the longing for love has the capacity to change your expectations and trick you into thinking you want something you once thought appalling, unacceptable, or disgusting. But you'll go along with it all in the name of Love, claiming you accept the man in front of you as he is, until you're too deep into it to easily get out. Trust me, I've been there.

4. The Romanticizing of Abuse

This is where I get honest, and where I am filled with rage at what Fifty Shades of Grey promotes. As a married woman, my husband and I have set boundaries in our bedroom. Not because I want to limit him or that we don't enjoy sex, but rather to protect ourselves and our sexual relationship. Because our sexual relationship is so important and valuable, there are things that he and I will not do because we value each other and our relationship more than "a little fun," experimentation, or our own sexual pleasure.

I'll be blunt. Making sure you achieve several orgasms by your choice of method is far less valuable than the emotional, physical, and spiritual connection you make with your spouse during sex. My biggest problem with Fifty Shades is that it promotes obsessive control and abuse in a sexual way. Sex was not designed for one spouse to dominate over the other or to simply give you the pleasure you want. It was designed as a duet that beckons a husband to please his wife, and a wife to please her husband, with their bodies in an unselfish manner. Sex within marriage communicates one of the deepest and most open and vulnerable forms of love, and I will tell you that there is nothing loving about hurting, harming, or damaging your spouse's body, or in pushing them to participate in degrading forms of sex. Pleasure should not be gained at the expense of your spouse. If you don't set boundaries in your sex life, you can't imagine what you're capable of giving in to when the person you love requests something unimaginable.

If you don't believe me about that, then trust me when I say that you don't have to look far to see how the world of internet pornography goes to extremes to include sexual methods involving violence and abuse, and it doesn't take long to get there.

5. Visual Dangers

After watching the trailer for the movie, my heart was burdened with this post. What once was all imagination and emotion will now be given a body and a face. The film is set to be released on Valentine's Day, so I already know that couples will go see this movie and watch it without realizing what it truly is. Millions will voluntarily watch a film based on a pornographic story, and come out with who knows how many ideas that will influence their behavior and mindset. Men will get the idea that abusive sex and controlling behavior is okay, as long as they really love the woman. Women will think it's normal to be treated and controlled in such a way, and that eventually he'll change and it'll all be the way they wanted it to be in the first place. Who knows how many of them will go home and actually try some of the things they see in the movie? How many men and women will be hurt and shamed by what they participate in? How many men will awaken an abusive nature they were hiding? How many women will turn the tables and respond that they should be in control and become abusive? I fully believe we will see the repercussions of this story.

There is so much to be harmed by Fifty Shades, and the unfortunate part is that most people are all too willing to say, "I'm not hurting anyone," and allow it to continue. I have a feeling that this is the the first step onto a dangerous path for both men and women and their relationships.

1 Corinthians 6:19-20 NIV - "Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies."

thorns & thistles

I can't lie. Today was a wretched day.
I know things could be much worse and not all hope is lost, but when something looms over me like this and for as long as this particular thing has, the human in me, admittedly, feels defeated. So much of my behavior has been shaped by this thorn in my side, and it rubs me annoyingly raw some days.
I was finally feeling confident that a brighter day was dawning for my health, but it all fell apart last night and my heart ached and longer for more of that sense of normalcy. So I sat in my bed and around my home today feeling empty, angry, and hopeless; even deceived. I'm a bit ashamed about the way I took it, but honestly I don't know how else I would have taken it. I feel like the carrot that was dangled has just been pulled away for good. I had been hoping and believing for something very specific to be changed in my health, and I thought that it had. Unexpectedly, things changed, and the grace period was over. My heart sank and I died a little bit in spirit with each hour of the night as I laid in bed. God bless the sweet man of my husband who did his best to comfort me.
"Why God? I thought you were doing something here? I thought you were healing me? I thought you cared about this? I don't understand. Do I really have to continue to deal with this?"
After 16 years of this struggle, nothing has changed. I feel... cheated; forgotten; uncared for. And now I worry about what's coming next and what it means. But I know God sees, and I know God cares, and I know God is capable... but why didn't he do something?
I have no answer right now. This is another one of those moments where the quiet mist of God's hand creeps it's fingers over the pathway and tells me not to worry about the next step and just keep walking.
"Trust me."
I know it's not out of spite or punishment or anything like that; no not at all. I know there's something good, something whole and worthwhile to come of all of this, but I certainly don't feel that and I haven't the slightest inkling as to what it will look like. All I feel is the tugging in my chest that pulls on my throat as I resist the urge to cry out of sorrow and desire for change; the sickness that stirs in my stomach as I stumble in and out of anger and sadness, frustrated thoughts and pleading cries.
"I just want something simple. Is it so much to ask of you? You make seas move and planets rotate and dirt give life, and yet my body will not function as you designed the body to do. I don't understand this, and I'm trying to trust you. Right now though, I need something to hold onto; something to give me hope in this circumstance."
Thankfully, my spirit has been lifted a bit, and I'm coming out of the funk. It's not any less difficult, but I know it'll make sense soon.
"Patience, my love. I am working."

i was rescued when i didn't know i needed saving

Have you ever met someone who had such a powerful testimony about how Christ redeemed their life, that you almost wished your testimony had, maybe not all, but some of that griminess and edge to make it a little more interesting? More powerful? More exciting? I'm talking the kind of testimony that involves all kinds of dirty, ugly, knock-out-drag-out-you'll-take-me-kicking-and-screaming sin. And if you had met them before they knew Jesus, you wouldn't believe they would be serving our sweet Savior anymore than you would believe a terrorist liked playing with kittens.

I'll admit that there have been times I've heard someone else's story and thought, "Man, my life seems so boring and unimpressive compared to that. A story like that would bring tons of people to Jesus! Not mine though." Maybe you've thought it too.

Let's face it. Some of us have led quiet lives. But that doesn't mean our lives are any less valuable or any less important.

"Laura, I knew you were going to say that."

Yes, I know you're thinking it too. I thought it just the same. Those of us who grew up in God-fearing, Christian homes know where our value is and how significant our role is in God's kingdom. We know we play a part, but honestly, I know, we don't always feel it.

But what if your story went deeper than you realized? Or perhaps deeper is a poor word. What if your story went further back than you realized?

Three years ago, my family began going through major struggles. My eyes began to be opened as soon as I got married, and I had this man I loved looking in on what I came to find was quite a broken and fragile environment. Let it never be said that God does not use marriage to make us more like Him. Indeed, it's probably one of the best ways He makes us more like Him. I learned just how much pain and sin runs in my blood when I was old enough to understand the backgrounds of my family. I learned how my parents, and even grandparents, came from physically and verbally abusive backgrounds riddled with neglect and poverty; how my own siblings had endured abuses that I knew nothing about; how my parent's relationship began as an affair, leading to their divorces, emotional scarring on my half-siblings, and their marriage afterward in my mother's seventh month of pregnancy with me, despite disapproval from both sides of the family. And it didn't stop there. The abuse, the anger, the deep-rooted bitterness, addictions to all manner of things, the resentment still in people's hearts, the pride, the ugliness, the shame... it all continued on. Like a bloodthirsty monster, it couldn't be satisfied no matter how many people you fed it. 

And then my Mom got sick. And someone from the church came to the hospital to visit, and brought her a plant as a "Get Well" gift. That plant brought Jesus into our home, and it changed the lives of my Mom, my Dad, my sister, and me.

That didn't mean the monster was gone. He lingered in shadow and quietly did his bidding behind closed doors, and even today he still causes chaos. But it hardly touched me, and it hardly touched my baby sister. I've been spared from knowing first-hand what it feels like to be abused physically and verbally, and to have to hide the bruises. I've been spared (for the most part) from knowing what it feels like to be hungry when all there is to eat is mustard and bread. I've been spared from demeaning positions. I've been spared... from much more than I probably know or feel comfortable saying here. And when I first learned of it all, it haunted me, and I wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge I had been given. I have wrestled with it for three years now, learning how to deal with the on-going sin and hurt in the lives of those I love most. I proclaim Christ, and therefore I proclaim hope and healing.

I won't lie. I ache inside at the thought of the things that stain my history, but more importantly I've been blessed and have resolved to see the generational sin end with me and my family. Praise God that He gave me a man who is plagued with honesty and has called me out for the flaws I've carried on. Praise God for conviction, and the willingness to change. Praise God that I was spared, and I do not have to tell a story that is so intense. I can be thankful for the quiet, and when I reflect on my life and ask, "Why didn't that happen to me?" I know the answer beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Because the Lord guarded my heart, His hand of protection kept me, and He had plans for me all along.

oil pulling pt 3 & some thoughts

It's been nearly two months since I started my Oil Pulling experiment, and I think it's safe to say it's not an experiment anymore. Oil Pulling is now part of my daily routine and I've been pleased with the results. My mouth has continued to be kept clean and healthy, I've thrown away my toothpaste, and I have even found other uses for my coconut oil. Just the other night I was telling our friends how it's become my "wonder drug."

Besides using coconut oil to clean my teeth and gums, I've also been using it in my hair to keep it smooth and well-moistened (wavy hair needs to be kept moisturized). I had noticed that since I started Oil Pulling, my hair has grown significantly, which, if you know me, is saying something. The last time I cut my hair short, it took me over a year and a half to grow it back out to be able to grab it from behind me. I cut my hair again back in November or December to just above my shoulders and here I am at the end of March with my hair already about halfway grown back. I'm a little impressed.

I've also been using the oil as an occasional lotion replacement since we've had significantly cold, dry weather. I say occasional because some days I just can't resist the smell of Bath & Body Works Vanilla Bean Noel. My skin feels softer and moisturized longer, and I have felt like I had that "glow" that most women seek to have nowadays while using it on my face.

So obviously there are many ways you can use coconut oil, and since little bit goes a long way, you can make it stretch. You can even bake and cook with it. If you're looking for a good brand, I've used the Spectrum brand that you can find at Target, but my favorite that I recently found at HEB is the Central Market organic virgin coconut oil. It smells like coconut, so you know it's pure and high quality. I'll probably be buying that from now on if the Central Market near us carries it.

In other news...

My hubs and I have been rolling over some choices we've needed to make, and we finally settled on a decision. Although at this point I feel like it might be more of an acquiesce or surrendering, which is probably good. I've been wrestling with myself a great deal, as there are things that I don't feel ready for or qualified to do. As I think on the things that God has set before me - some fully visible, and others veiled - it's quite easy to get caught up in questions and concerns, most of which are all about little ole ME. I can think all day about what I need to do, what steps I could take, what any given task might require of me, and I often make the mistake of trying to force God's will to happen.

God has given me prophetic words about how my life will be used, but He hasn't exactly given the nitty gritty details about how that will be done. And He doesn't have to.

As such, I see something happening or something I could do, and though I might not admit it, in my heart I say, "Maybe this is what God meant for me to do." It's easy to get wrapped up in doing things, but just because you're doing something doesn't mean you're producing anything.

We've been studying Genesis and recently covered where Abraham's wife Sarah (who is unable to have children) gives her servant Hagar to him to have children with. Now, God has already promised a child to Abraham and Sarah, so you wonder why they would do this. Well, they, like us so many times, tried to "make" God's work happen. We often think, "This will do God," or, "I can do this God, so bless this." The truth though, is that God has already set His plan in motion, and He knows exactly how it will play out. All that is required of us is to have faith in His promise, and to walk in obedience.

There are many things I could get involved in or make happen, but if I'm not placing each step in obedience to God, those things won't matter, and they won't bring Him glory. It is His will I must seek, but I have to remember that I can't make it happen in my timing any more than I can make it rain. I look forward to what God is going to do with my life, and I am excited about what He's doing now. And even though I often don't feel like the person for a given task, I know that God has placed me here and entrusted it to me, and He would not do it if He did not have a purpose for it. I know He will uphold me, and if I listen and obey, I will see His amazing work come to fruition, and I will bring Him glory.

three years

Three years ago today, I married my best friend; the most wonderful man I've ever known. Only a few patches of ice survived that day as they hid from the much welcomed, warm temperatures in the shadowed corners of the Dallas Arboretum. There, in the smallest garden, my husband and I made promises to love each other through every circumstance as we served God, and we exchanged rings as the symbol of an unending commitment to uphold those vows.

Now, on the day of our three-year anniversary, I find myself reflecting on all that has happened in our married years. I feel as if I've known Jason forever, and that surely we must have been married more than three years. But on the other hand, I still feel as if it's been a short time, and our wedding was just yesterday. Time is such a funny thing, and such an abstract concept. I wonder if this is how I'll feel about time in Heaven; forever long, and yet it feels like it just started.

I wouldn't say that our years together have been as eventful as a storybook, but then again I've found that real adult life simply is not as exciting as fairy tales and great lore of old. That doesn't make daily life any less meaningful or deprive it of its purpose though. The events of our life together have been realistic, whole, and formed by the flowing movement of God's hand at work. I know that neither of us have any doubt about the power of God, and we know first-hand what His constant and faithful provision looks like. We have seen it in the smallest of circumstances. Sweetly enough, our first three years together are only the tip of the iceberg. There is much to look forward to.

I am always incredibly thankful that God placed Jason in my life to be my companion. I have known some pretty swell, Jesus-loving guys over the years, but few ever seemed a preferential choice for dating. Looking back at my high school and college years, I know that God protected me during the times of sin that might have laid waste to my ability to love my husband as I do now. I know that God kept me out of unnecessary relationships as well. I never dated for the sake of dating, and though a young man might have been a suitable partner, somehow he just wasn't in my mind. I thank God for the moments of clarity that I simply heard and said, "He is not for me," and walked away without an inkling of feeling for him again. I firmly believe the Spirit was at work in me before I ever fully understood Him. Oh, how jealously loved I am by God and husband.

I think the most vital traits that communicate our love for each other and form our marriage are these two things:

1.We are not afraid to challenge or correct each other. Jason will always call me out when my response to broken cell phones, people's failings, or a simple mood swing is anger, frustration, or bitterness. He unveils my naked sin, and challenges me to display a Christ-like attitude. In the same way, I remind him of the promises of God and what is required of the Christ-following life. To be honest, this has been a growing point for me, as I have always avoided conflict. But conflict grows us, and our ability to navigate it makes us stronger and binds us tighter. And though we often are put off by each other's words, we are always thankful for them later.

2. We put each other's needs first. I consider myself spoiled sometimes at the generosity my husband displays towards me. If I were secretly a manipulative and selfish woman, I might have the capability to bleed him dry with gifts and acts of love. Love is a doing word, and Jason acts out his love for me in his efforts to secure my happiness. Sometimes this is in the basic bacon-winning for us by working so hard at his job, or in the way he buys me daisies because they're my favorite, or in the surrender of another soda so that I can have popcorn at the movies. If you know my husband, you know that is a big deal. My husband proves to me on a regular basis that my happiness and contentment are of great importance to him, and he will do anything to have it. In the same way, I seek this for him and offer up small things - like playing silly video games or listening to his technical jargon - to show him I will do anything for him.

Love is a practiced thing, and we must practice often.

So thank you Jason. Thank you for loving me, and for challenging me. Thank you for holding me when I cried so bitterly, and for making me laugh until I couldn't breathe. Thank you for letting me change your mind about things, and for changing mine about others. Thank you for your sacrifices. Thank you for being charming and playful, and for allowing me to make all my weird noises and dance like a fool (and reminding me not to do it in public). Thank you for long hours in the cold fixing vehicles, treats I didn't need, and pushing me when I felt I could run no more. Thank you for doing life with me. And thank You, God, that I have such a wonderful husband. Help me to be a wonderful wife.

oil pulling pt 2

Just over a week ago, I told you about how I had quit using toothpaste for a week and how the experiment was going. So far, the results have been good. I have less sensitivity, healthier gums, and increased confidence about my teeth in general.

Now the second week has come and gone, and my coconut oil supply is a little more diminished. How did it go? Ask my dentist!

I had my 6-month check-up scheduled for today (what a coincidence!) and I was especially curious to see what my dental hygienist had to say about my mouth. For the record, these ladies know me and these pearls quite well. I've been going to them for 3 years now for all my dental hardships. We've gone from seeing each other every couple of weeks to every 6 months. I absolutely adore these ladies and dread the day I ever have to find another dentist/hygienist. Moving on...

My cleaning went as usual. X-rays, getting the plaque off my teeth, trying to talk between having her hands in my mouth, rinsing, polishing, laughing, checking my gums, and addressing any issues I might be having. Overall, my hygienist said my teeth and gums look beautiful. No joke, they love to say how beautiful my teeth and gums are (because they were SO BAD), and I often hear, "Sweetie, you've come a long way!" Usually, however, it's quickly followed up by concerns about my susceptibility to decay and how I need to be rigorously brushing and flossing everyday. Not this time! I don't think brushing or flossing more was even discussed.

On the flip-side, don't abandon your dentist yet! By no means do I believe Oil Pulling can cure every mouth issue. Here's the other part of my dentist trip story...

Thanks to genetics (again), I have crowded teeth. Many of my front teeth are at awkward angles and rotated, so they don't line up correctly and some are too close together. As such, there are areas in-between my teeth that I simply can't get to. Because of that, I do need the standard 6-month check-up to clear plaque from those crevasses I can't reach. This also means that I'm a great candidate for Invisalign, which can correct the crookedness, and allow me to clean (and pull!) more thoroughly. Granted, it's expensive, but I believe it's worth it in my case. (And if you know your dentist well enough, you might get a special deal like me!)

Also, because my bite is off, and my jaw is always searching for a safe place to land, I have been grinding my teeth and managed to crack a previous, large filling in one of my upper molars. In turn, I had been having one spot where my floss felt like it would get stuck, which was rather uncomfortable. Thankfully, this is easily repaired, and Invisalign will help correct my bite. I suspect that an off bite could be repaired naturally as well, but I would be willing to bet it needs to be done in youth when teeth are still coming in and bones are still growing. Being 25 years old, I probably don't have many options of changing it naturally. But it's something worth looking into. (My suspicions are brought about from this link and reading about dental prerequisite #6.)

In other news, my sensitivity is pretty much gone. I haven't felt any sudden discomfort when taking in cold water from the sink or when I'm outside, so I would like to pronounce that cured. My mouth still feels on the dry side. However, I know I haven't drank enough water this past week, and because of the cold weather, everything is a little dried out.

That's all for today! I'm going to go throw away my toothpaste, and I'll check back in a couple weeks and let y'all know how it's going!

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or dental professional. I am not telling anyone to quit seeing their dentist. I am not saying that dentistry is unnecessary. I'm simply sharing what's working for me and what I'm learning. I also am not advertising for Invisalign, but sharing what's been recommended for me.

oil pulling, part 1

This might be weird, but here goes.

Confession: I haven't used toothpaste or mouthwash in over a week. And no, my teeth have not rotted out and I don't have horrible breath (or no one's told me so).

If you know me well, you know that I have horrible oral health (thanks genetics). The past 3 years have been a major battle to keep my teeth and gums healthy. I've had multiple, thorough cleanings with a great dentist, but despite all the prescription toothpaste, daily flossing and/or use of my WaterPik, I've still been struggling to keep my gums from bleeding and my teeth hurting. I've had 3 crowns done, over a dozen fillings, and since having those done, I've had high sensitivity, particularly to very cold things (even cold air outside). We're talking a major investment here, and my mouth is probably worth a few grand in cash (praise God for good insurance!).

I'm telling you, I have wanted to cry on some nights before my dental rituals because I'm so tired of battling my own teeth. If you think my diet is contributing, I'm not the type of person with a poor diet. I eat well, drink sodas maybe twice a week, and also limit the amount of juices I drink to limit acid. So why hasn't all the normal dental care helped? You got me.

In desperation, I hit up Google and started a search for alternative care. One option I came across is Oil Pulling.

Stay with me. I know it sounds weird, but you may find it worthwhile.

I have been oil pulling for over a week now, and so far I'm optimistic. I use about a teaspoon of coconut oil (you can also use sesame or olive oil, and probably some others) and swish it in between my teeth for about 15 to 20 minutes every morning. I do it while I'm in the shower (per another lady's suggestion). When I'm done, I spit the oil in the trash (so I don't clog up the sink) and rinse my mouth with water.

I have also kept up with my flossing, simply because I want to keep up something normal while I do this, and with my crowded teeth, it's probably best if I keep that up. At night, I will put some coconut oil on my toothbrush if I feel like they need a scrub, or I will just dry-brush with some warm water.

The results?

1. My gums are pinker than they have been in years. I'm talking pretty bubblegum pink. Any redness in your gums usually means there's some bad bacteria action going on in there, and so your gums get inflamed. This can cause your gums to bleed during brushing or flossing. So far, I've had no bleeding, and most of my redness/inflammation is gone.

2. My sensitivity is practically gone. Seriously. I put it to the test and filled my mouth with freezing cold water and swished it around. I didn't even flinch. (I'll keep an eye on this to be sure it continues)

So far, oil pulling seems to be working. A couple things I will still be watching are the moisture of my mouth (having a well-salivated mouth is important to oral health, and mine often feels dry), as well as the general cleanliness and healthiness. I've heard that it can also whiten teeth, but I'm not too concerned with aesthetics at this time.

If you're interested in this, you can check out this link and this link that I've been focusing on as far as oral healthcare goes. I'll keep updating about this and we'll see what happens!

P.S. - I'm not a doctor or dentist, and this is an experiment in natural remedies for me, so I can't guarantee any results or give any medical advice about this. I'm simply posting my experiences with this and telling you what I've found to work for me.

overjoyed

The past several weeks have been some of the most peaceful I have known in quite a while. I simply can't do anything but give glory to God for bringing me through one of the most wearisome experiences yet. "Thank you Jesus for bringing me here..."

I've felt like God brought me out of the dark woods with perfect timing. Honestly what else should I expect? He is perfect. Since I've been freed from my "quarter-life-crisis," I've noticed friends and family around me who feel as I did - lost, confused, wandering about, trying to figure life out, curious about what they're really doing. My heart is, at first, broken for them because I know their pain and that they probably spend time weeping quietly at home alone. But that is quickly followed by joy when I realize that I have a gift of hope to offer them.

If you feel this way, know that you are right where God wants you to be. Trust Him. Know that He has a plan that is going to bring you out of your own dark woods, and when you come out on the other side, you'll understand why the journey had to happen. You'll come to see why it was worth all the questions without answers, the silent tears, the empty sighs, and the burdening weight of uncertainty.
You will know joy. 
You will know peace. 
You will find purpose. 
Seek after God. Conform yourself to the character of Christ. And speak truth to yourself constantly, "My God is good. He has promised a purpose for me. I can, and I will, put my faith in that."

Because no matter how many new hobbies you take up, how many tricks you try, how many self-help books you read, or how many people you surround yourself with, there is only one thing that will satisfy the longing of your heart, and that is knowing and being in His presence.

early risers

I remember thinking back to my high school days when I would get up at 5:30 in the morning to shower and straighten my hair, even though it would be wavy again by 8 o' clock and I'd get sweaty during soccer. Why did I get up so stinkin' early for that? Truthfully, it probably was a waste of precious sleepy time, but I was in high school. Sleep is for English class. Just kidding, I actually liked English.

Now that I'm an adult though, I must confess, I actually want to get up early. "WHAT?! Did she really just say that?!" You betcha!

With the talk of having kids soon and the thought of juggling something so new like that with all of our other commitments and jobs, I got a bit frazzled one day and laid out an ultimatum for my husband.

"Jason. We have to get on a schedule. If we don't, we'll lose our minds when we have children, and this home will be chaos." Let's be honest too, we all have more time than we really think we do, and I got tired of wasting it.

About a month ago now, we committed ourselves to getting up at 6:00 every morning. Yes. SIX. A. M. Let's just say I haven't been up that early since the last time I had an 8 am class in college, and even then I wouldn't get up until 7:35 to wash my face, throw on a giant plaid flannel, jeans, grab books, and skip breakfast. I honestly threw fashion out the window because, well, I was lazy. Honestly, I was. It was sad looking back. Anyways...

Unfortunately, I got sick the first week we started, so I got the first couple days to sleep in until nine. It was glorious, really. I was quite proud of my hubs for actually listening to his alarm clock. But then I joined him.

And I thought I was gonna die. Or pass out during our run.

"Wait... run? Don't tell me you work out that early too!"

Yes. We even work out in the morning. Mostly because we got tired of cramming a workout into our evenings, or having to skip it to hang out with friends or go on a date. Now, we're ready to go by 9 am. Breakfast? Had two already! Dressed? I look so good! Focused? LET'S DO THIS!!! Shocking isn't it?

Here's the thing though.

We love it. Not the getting up part, let me assure you. But we love the way that we're ready for the day by 9 o'clock. We're "wide-eyed and bushy-tailed," ready for whatever is on the agenda. And we're not tired either. Maybe for the first two minutes, but once I'm up, I realize I've had plenty of sleep. The best part though, is that once we have our work done, the rest of the day is ours to do what we please. Imagine the day I finished all my work by 10am. Field day!... er, Pinterest. Don't judge.

Our evenings are more open, we're not trying to cram in a workout or that one task we forgot to do, and we don't have to sacrifice exercise or friends for the other. It was a great moment when we realized that everything was done and we could enjoy the extra time entertaining our hobbies, being together, being with friends, or just plain relaxing for the joy of it.

So now, we're early risers. And we love it. And it's definitely not something I thought I would ever be of my own choice, so there's one more interesting thing about the adult life to put on my shelf.

validation

I was beginning to feel like all my posts were major debbie-downers, but today the cycle breaks!

It's been a rough transition for me from college to adult life, but I'm finally starting to see the beauty of where God has brought me. Our connection group recently started studying a book called "Radical" by David Platt. If you haven't read it and you're a believer in Christ, do it. Do it now. Because it will change your life, and, quite literally, radically change the way you look at your faith (or lack thereof). I say that, and I'm only two chapters into the book. Whoa. Moving on...Since before we began the book, I've struggled with understanding my place and my, I guess, function within the will of my God. "What was I doing? What about a career? What about my future? What about this? What about that?" I've been wanting so desperately to understand why I'm "just a housewife" and not the grand musician or artist I thought I would be years ago. I've wrestled with the way the world tells me that I'm not a real, strong woman if I don't have a career and work really hard, when the Bible tells me to be content with what I have and where I'm at in life. I've been angry with God for not giving me more that would make me happy; make me feel satisfied. But I knew that that was not what I needed. I didn't need work or to make a paycheck or just bust out some babies to make myself feel worthwhile and fulfilled. I knew, deep, deep in my heart and soul, that none of that was going to make me happy, or give me a spirit of continual joy, because only God can do that. Only Jesus can fill that void in our lives; the void that demands to be spiritually filled.So when I prayed (which honestly that is still a work in progress), I would pray, "God, help me to know that my worth, my validation, my fulfillment is in You, and nothing else." Over and over I've been praying that and speaking that truth to myself. Normally, I feel like I fall flat when it comes to speaking truth to myself, but there is power in speaking holy truth to a hurting soul. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Then repeat some more.Last week, God spoke.I follow several blogs from God-fearing, beautiful women who are constantly doing the will of God by teaching Biblical truth to thousands of women via the internet. Yes God, You use the internet! They encourage women in how to be Biblical women as wives, mothers, sisters, and friends. Here are the words that penetrated so deeply.


"Dear Heavenly Father,Thank you for creating me. Thank you for my personality, my physical features, my voice, and my heart. I struggle with being thankful for who you created me to be, and for that I am sorry. Please help me to find my worthiness in you. I pray that I would be confident in your love for me. I pray that you would be my validation and my comfort. I pray that I would be entirely fulfilled by you and you alone! For you are my God and I love you! In Jesus name AMEN!" - from Unveiled Wife, 7/22/13 Daily Prayer


"Somebody said that there’s this restlessness among the next generation of women, that they fear more than anything – wasting their lives. I’ve felt that before. Feelings can last for years but they can lie and change your forever. So, look — There’s no fear: You aren’t wasting your life when you’ve poured out for eternity — wherever you are. There’s no fear: You are doing something great with your life – when you’re doing all the small things with His Great love. There’s no fear: You aren’t wasting your life – when you aren’t wasting opportunities to love like Christ." - Ann Voskamp via The Better Mom

"...the gospel does not prompt you to mere reflection; the gospel requires a response... We will discover that our meaning is found in community and our life is found in giving ourselves for the sake of others in the church, among the lost, and among the poor. We will evaluate where true security and safety are found in this world, and in the end we will determine not to waste our lives on anything but uncompromising, unconditional abandonment to a gracious, loving Savior..." from Chapter 1 of Radical by David Platt

All these things I read within a week, and I remember that after reading each one, my heart felt a sense of joy it had not known in quite some time. And I was at peace... I know who I am now. I know where my validation lies. I still have to repeat this to myself continuously, and it is still my prayer, but now I know that I am not wasting my life, as long as I belong to Christ and as long as I serve Him wherever I am, however I can. I'm looking forward to the next year. I've been having dreams, and I'm sensing that the Lord is going to bring something our way. Something great. Something glorious. I have no doubt that I'll still struggle and crawl because I can be so frail, but I am no longer looking for validation. I have found it in my God. I must hold onto it.

"Beautiful Things" - Gungor
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OR7VOKQ0xJY

the first question

There are so many facets of my own heart that I have, seemingly, zero understanding of. All these little secrets I have learned to keep pushed down and locked up; so many confrontations avoided because at some point I decided I could not deal with the pain of them or they were too selfishly insignificant to deserve any legitimate attention. Now, near the age of 25, I find myself locked within prison upon prison, and I have hidden all the keys in such deep, dark places that I cannot remember where they are located, and no one can find them. There seems to be no hope for freedom; no hope for escape of the spiritual and emotional death I prepared for myself.

In finding my spirit in such despair, and my husband desperately wanting to know how to help me conquer these deep-seeded fears, I have so many questions that need answers if I am ever to move on, make progress, or achieve any kind of accomplishment outside of being capable of cleaning a home well or paying bills on time. The trouble is… I’m the only one who can interrogate me and have any chance of coercing an honest, useful answer that will bring about change.

For years now I’ve kept myself from making any progress as a musician and writer. While I maintain enough natural talent that makes me completely capable of doing something worthwhile, there remains a great deal of fear, a lack of confidence, and a sense of incompetence that nails me so hard to the floor that I don’t move, and I deeply despise the very idea of movement. The voices in my head shout, “What would you do even if you did change? What difference would it make? What would the purpose be of any action? Who would care if you never wrote again?,” and I have no response that is powerful or truthful enough to override them, save my husband whose desire for me to grow keeps my mind pacing in a stagnant cave.

Most of the time, when asked why I don’t try harder or don’t do anything at all, I’m too ashamed to give an answer because, either, I have no answer or I have the poorest reason. Truthfully, there is no reason for me to not pursue my life as a musician and writer, for so many have told me how they love my early work or how I am remembered as “the girl with the lovely voice.” Yet among all these people’s sweet encouragements, I am so overwhelmed by fear and doubt of my gifts. Why is this? Have my short moments of failure really had that much of an impact on my spirit? Did the final result of my senior recital really do me in for life, dooming me to an unending sense of failure and incompetence? It can’t be just that. All those things have been and can be easily, easily, outweighed by the delightful responses of friends and family to my work. So what is it? What is it that ties the stone around my neck and drags me into the abyss of self-pity, sadness, and spiritual decay?...

Perhaps it goes farther back, and far deeper, than I thought.

When I was in my last year and a half of college, I remember having a dream where an angel spoke to me. It didn’t look at all like an angel from all the famous paintings or usual pictures. This angel appeared more as a child’s drawing (quite literally) made of oil paint and crayon. There were many things in this dream that still don’t  make sense to me today, but at the end, just before I woke up, the angel said to me, “You still have great things to do.” I immediately knew the Lord was speaking to me, but I think there was a problem long before that.

I remember back in high school how so many things I was involved were what I hoped would be the thing that made my life better. When I was successful in choir for all four years, when the school started a girls’ soccer team in my sophomore year, or when I realized I was my art teacher’s favorite in my freshman year… all these times I remember thinking, “This will do it. This will make me happy, notable, well-liked. Wanted.”

Is this why I have always done things? To feel wanted? Is this why I will go to any length to help people? Why I gave my best to people who - looking back - just didn’t deserve it? Did I throw my pearls to swine too often because I desired to be wanted?

There is no doubt that growing up I was held to a high standard. There was always much expected of me because I was “the good child,” the responsible one, and I had the intelligence to accomplish much. Don’t get me wrong now; I understand the importance of holding a child to some type of standard. But honestly, I grew up telling myself that I had to go to college and get a degree. I didn’t know what to do after that or why it was important, just to do it. When I finally accomplished that, I had no idea what to do next, I didn’t know what my purpose was, and so I, perhaps, assumed that I failed when I had no next step planned. And when all my other endeavors failed – when I dropped out of my favorite choir event the year they finally won first place in the competition only to sit the bench on a soccer team that I may as well have never been on; when I never returned to art class; when my college senior recital was given a grade C after months of sacrifice – when it all failed, and I saw no return for the things I invested all my hope and love into, all I saw myself as was unaccomplished, inadequate, and unwanted. There were no more reasons to try, no more reasons for holding a passion about anything, and no more of me left to give.

Now, near the age of 25, when I say, “I live a simple life,” what I am really saying is that, “I have pursued a fantastic life; perhaps even pursued it valiantly. But I found nothing fantastic worth investing in, so I stick to the simple and the easy because it is safe, and it will not let me down. I will never be unwanted, and I will never fail, when I am good at the easy and the simple.”

The only problem with this philosophy is that God has made me for great things, and He has quite literally spoken that to my face. And every time I reject the idea of movement, I reject the will of God in my life, and I hammer down one more nail into my coffin of mediocrity. Granted, I’ve remained faithful to God in that I have continued to serve and grow in His church and in leading a small group with my husband and our two friends, but even in the middle of that service I still feel the need to make myself wanted and to prove myself as good enough. And even further, then, how does this affect my marriage? I feel the need to prove to my husband that I am good enough, and yet I cannot force myself to practice guitar when he wants me to because I am too afraid of failing in music again. “He may not want me if I don’t get a move on soon.” I probably tell myself that, and then immediately push it down and ignore it so that I don’t have to tell him I’m thinking such things.

I know the answer to these things, the proper answer, and that is that I am a child of God; that He wants me and He desires fellowship with me and to see me reach my full potential. The problem there is that I have let my private spiritual life decay, probably because I don’t see why God would want me when I can’t do these small things. And so I keep myself in this fearful spiritual cycle that I’ll never be good enough, and so I will always fail, and so I will never be wanted. My fears now assume my failures then, before I have even met a single obstacle.

These are my chains. This is what binds me.

Now I must find a way to remind myself, constantly, who I am in the eyes of Jesus.

But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

—Isaiah 43:1

after the dust settles

I know that, being only 25 years old, I have (Lord-willing) a lot of time left in my life to live and move and be. I hear it so often said to people my age, "Don't rush, you're young, you've got lots of life left in you." As true as that may be, and as much as I'm sure these people mean to encourage people my age, I can't help but constantly feel like I'm running out of time to "make something of myself."
I'll be honest, I didn't picture myself here, as a housewife and volunteer church staff member, back in high school or college. Actually, I'm not sure if I pictured anything at all. There wasn't much besides the vague "job" in my mind after college. So now that I'm past that part of my life, and the college youth steadily fades from my character and my body, and while I do understand the value of what I do on a day-to-day basis, I feel quite empty-handed and unaccomplished at the end of most days.
I've lost track of the number of days I've found myself alone at home, while my friends and family are at work or school, and I'm beside my bed or on our couch sobbing to God to help me understand my life, to be grateful for my duties, and begging for direction. The fact that I've had no relief for over two years now makes it even harder to understand God's purpose for all of this.
I have been prone to think that I'm just being selfish or ill-content with God's will, and so I ask for forgiveness. But I can't help but wonder if it's okay, if it's normal, to have these emotions? Aren't we born with a sense of longing for something more? Isn't there some innate hole inside us that demands filling? Wasn't I created this way? While these questions are assuredly answered with, "Yes," I have to maintain a balance in my heart of being filled with longing, and being filled with envy. We tend to get the two confused.

So what's a woman to do? More specifically, what's a young, God-fearing woman to do when she does not know what she should be doing?

I have all but given up on my music career. I barely practice, I don't sing as much, and I turn sour at the idea of trying to compose anything now. My mojo is gone, and I can't find a reason to try anymore. I've considered going back to school, but can't afford to do so, and I fear I would simply start on one more rabbit-trail that will lead to a dead end. What's more is that while I know I want children, I also fear them because I worry about my ability to settle into motherhood and assume I will never be anything else. Overall, to put it simply, I feel like all my dreams have turned their back on me to become my personal brand of monsters.

I haven't figured any of this out yet, but I told God this past week that I would make time for Him and His word regardless of my circumstances. I keep reading my Bible, out loud, with highlighter, pen, and pencil, expectantly hoping that one day the words will jump out, the Spirit will speak, and God will move my life in a particular direction. For now, I keep walking through a fog, and trust the ground to be there when I step.

it's a slow death

It's been a torturous time for me as of late. There is no doubt in my mind that the past year has been one of extreme difficulty personally and aside from anything outside of my daily life. I honestly do not see this discontinuing itself any time soon, and that is simply where my heart is currently. I will not pretend that I live a poor or unfortunate life though. I would consider myself quite rich in comparison to many, but we all know riches only go so far, and a life without purpose is indeed a dying one.
That is exactly what is happening here. I am dying.
No, not literally. But spiritually, I am dying. Day by day I am steadily wasting away as I await some form of hope of God-given purpose to emerge out of the shadows of this lonely little apartment. Having had much practice in my younger years though, I would say I am fairly talented at masking this. I will be everything anyone needs me to be at any given moment, for I am discovering that I am a task-oriented type of gal. But when there is no task at hand, and no one to give direct instruction, well... there isn't much to look at in my general direction.
My husband tells me I have to fight hard against these "moods" that I get into; that I have to force myself out of them and shake them off. But why? Why fight so hard when there is nothing obvious worth fighting for or towards? And if I should manage to survive the "mood," what shall I do when I have worked my way out of the forest, only to find myself in an open field between it and another forest?
All of this uncertainty and all of this grey ambiguity in my life has rendered me to have a sour core - bitter, lonely, fearful, and empty with a growing pool of seemingly useless tears. I do not like crying; in fact, I grow to hate it because I still do not feel any relief when it is over. If only it was like a stomach virus, and I could simply lurch my lunch and be rid of the illness. But this is a cancer; a deep wound of the soul. It will take a miracle to cure, and I grow weaker waiting for it.
Fortunately, the glimmer of hope remains in Paul's words.
"Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Cor. 12:8,9)