In life, it's ineveitable that you will encounter storms.
My life has faced many storms.
Storms that sneaked up.
Storms that raged on for years.
Storms that passed quickly.
Storms that were gradual, building up and up and up...
Storms that hurt a lot.
Storms that I fought.
Storms that I hated.
They are a sure fact of life.
And my life has faced many.
More than most, probably.
The ONLY reason I am still standing is because of the foundation I've found. The foundation that I've rooted my life in. The foundation that, at times, I've clung to with every ounce of strength I had left.
I lived 22 years of my life without God.
22 dark, painful, dysfunctional, distorted, confusing years.
The second I met him, my life changed. Drastically. And from that moment on, I've been building on and anchoring myself to that solid foundation.
When storms come, they can't knock you over, blow you away, tear you down, destroy your hard work IF you are built on, connected to, rooted in a solid foundation.
And even though the foundation I started on was itty-bitty, I held on tight through the storms, while God was building a greater foundation for me, and while I was allowing my roots to go deep into him.
And even though the storms were rough and took a toll on me, I was able to hold on only because of that foundation. I even found that the more storms I weathered, the more beautiful and strong and powerful my foundation became.
I'm thankful for the foundations, but even more thankful for the storms.
Showing posts with label my story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my story. Show all posts
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Sunday, July 1, 2012
emotional tsunami
I have this bad habit.
I stuff my emotions.
I "reason" them away.
I force myself to NOT feel them.
I brush over them.
I shove them down.
And then, on nights like tonight, ALL of those shoved, stuffed, reasoned-away emotions come rushing out.
Along with tears.
A lot of tears.
More tears than humanly possible.
This is a cycle.
My "crazy" cycle.
And I know exactly why I do it.
To make a very complex explanation short, it's because of fear.
A lot of fear of many things.
Mainly fear of: rejection, abandonment, pain, loneliness, lack of control (to name a few).
Tonight was a night where the flood gates came down, and the emotion hit me like a title wave.
So here I sit, in the aftermath of the emotional tsunami, processing through the pain. Sorting through the emotion. Working on the areas that God is so clearly exposing.
It's not easy.
It's messy.
It's hard.
But, I know it's worth it.
And the truth that I cling to on nights like tonight is that it's because of God's great, huge, never-ending, never-failing love for me that he calls me to walk through all of this.
And I know that he will NEVER leave me. That he will NEVER forsake me.
I stuff my emotions.
I "reason" them away.
I force myself to NOT feel them.
I brush over them.
I shove them down.
And then, on nights like tonight, ALL of those shoved, stuffed, reasoned-away emotions come rushing out.
Along with tears.
A lot of tears.
More tears than humanly possible.
This is a cycle.
My "crazy" cycle.
And I know exactly why I do it.
To make a very complex explanation short, it's because of fear.
A lot of fear of many things.
Mainly fear of: rejection, abandonment, pain, loneliness, lack of control (to name a few).
Tonight was a night where the flood gates came down, and the emotion hit me like a title wave.
So here I sit, in the aftermath of the emotional tsunami, processing through the pain. Sorting through the emotion. Working on the areas that God is so clearly exposing.
It's not easy.
It's messy.
It's hard.
But, I know it's worth it.
And the truth that I cling to on nights like tonight is that it's because of God's great, huge, never-ending, never-failing love for me that he calls me to walk through all of this.
And I know that he will NEVER leave me. That he will NEVER forsake me.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
2011 love
I'm really excited about this post.
My first post in 2012.
I love new beginnings.
Birthdays, New Years, the start of seasons.
There's something so beautiful about new beginnings.
A few days before January 1, 2012, I found a fresh, clean piece of paper, and settled into a table at Starbucks with a steaming cup of coffee, and began to make my "list".
I'm a list-making fool.
I love a good list.
This list was special to me. It wasn't a "to-do" list, it wasn't a work list, it wasn't a grocery list... it was my list for 2012.
All of the things I plan on doing in this new, special, lovely year.
The day before, we had our weekly staff meeting, and Dan shared some great insight. He talked about reflecting on the past year. Writing down some of our accomplishments, some of the things we'd watched God do in our lives, some of the significant moments of 2011. Then he talked about making NEW goals for this next year. And about being thoughtful with our lists. Really searching our hearts for the things we wanted to do with this next year. Immediately my mind started racing.
"What do I want to do? What do I want to see God do? What are some goals? Some resolutions?" I couldn't wait to get a quiet moment, and begin making my list.
So, when I sat down, I fully intended on making a wonderful, long, thoughtful list. Instead, I began looking back at the past year. The things God had done. The ways I had changed. The challenges I had overcome. The many accomplishments of the past year.
Last year I:
-Turned 27
-Ran my second 1/2 marathon
-Helped move an entire church into a brand new building (kind of a big deal)
-Helped outfit and equip 5 brand new classrooms in our brand new building (kind of another big deal)
-Figured out a brand new check-in system and trained people on this system
-Walked through an incredibly difficult, painful and healing season
-Lead two life groups
-Saw 4 amazing bands in concert
-Celebrated the birth of DOZENS of new, wonderful, amazing babies
The list could continue. But here's my point: Before we get so wrapped up in the promise of the new year, we should take a minute and celebrate. This is a HUGE theme in my life: Celebrate. Take a minute, thank God for where we are, for what we've come through, for the ways he's changed our lives, the lives of our family, the lives of the ones we love. Take a minute and remember and reflect on the past year. So many times I hear people say "I just can't believe it's 2012 already! Where did 2011 go??" My answer? I know EXACTLY where 2011 went! I lead a full, busy, excellent year. It was a challenging, stretching, amazing year of growth. I'm so thankful for past year. I'm in an amazing place, with an amazing job, living an amazing life, serving an amazing God, with so much love and joy. That's something to celebrate.
Where did your year go? What are the things you're celebrating and reflecting on?
Maybe the next post will be my goals for 2012, but this one is dedicated to 2011 :) Happy New Year.
My first post in 2012.
I love new beginnings.
Birthdays, New Years, the start of seasons.
There's something so beautiful about new beginnings.
A few days before January 1, 2012, I found a fresh, clean piece of paper, and settled into a table at Starbucks with a steaming cup of coffee, and began to make my "list".
I'm a list-making fool.
I love a good list.
This list was special to me. It wasn't a "to-do" list, it wasn't a work list, it wasn't a grocery list... it was my list for 2012.
All of the things I plan on doing in this new, special, lovely year.
The day before, we had our weekly staff meeting, and Dan shared some great insight. He talked about reflecting on the past year. Writing down some of our accomplishments, some of the things we'd watched God do in our lives, some of the significant moments of 2011. Then he talked about making NEW goals for this next year. And about being thoughtful with our lists. Really searching our hearts for the things we wanted to do with this next year. Immediately my mind started racing.
"What do I want to do? What do I want to see God do? What are some goals? Some resolutions?" I couldn't wait to get a quiet moment, and begin making my list.
So, when I sat down, I fully intended on making a wonderful, long, thoughtful list. Instead, I began looking back at the past year. The things God had done. The ways I had changed. The challenges I had overcome. The many accomplishments of the past year.
Last year I:
-Turned 27
-Ran my second 1/2 marathon
-Helped move an entire church into a brand new building (kind of a big deal)
-Helped outfit and equip 5 brand new classrooms in our brand new building (kind of another big deal)
-Figured out a brand new check-in system and trained people on this system
-Walked through an incredibly difficult, painful and healing season
-Lead two life groups
-Saw 4 amazing bands in concert
-Celebrated the birth of DOZENS of new, wonderful, amazing babies
The list could continue. But here's my point: Before we get so wrapped up in the promise of the new year, we should take a minute and celebrate. This is a HUGE theme in my life: Celebrate. Take a minute, thank God for where we are, for what we've come through, for the ways he's changed our lives, the lives of our family, the lives of the ones we love. Take a minute and remember and reflect on the past year. So many times I hear people say "I just can't believe it's 2012 already! Where did 2011 go??" My answer? I know EXACTLY where 2011 went! I lead a full, busy, excellent year. It was a challenging, stretching, amazing year of growth. I'm so thankful for past year. I'm in an amazing place, with an amazing job, living an amazing life, serving an amazing God, with so much love and joy. That's something to celebrate.
Where did your year go? What are the things you're celebrating and reflecting on?
Maybe the next post will be my goals for 2012, but this one is dedicated to 2011 :) Happy New Year.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Nothing is lost
Sunday was a great day.
Loads of little feet running up and down the Stirring Kids hallway.
Hundreds of spunky kids ready for their morning. All full of energy and hope and potential.
I love Sundays.
I love saying hello to every one of those faces. Most of them return my hello with a wave or a shout or a high-five or a toothy grin.
These kids are what I live for. To show them the love the God has for them. To show them who they are in His eyes. To pour passion and love and dreams into their sweet, dear little minds.
Dan spoke on Sunday.
He always wrecks me. God pierces my heart through his words. Every time.
Something that Dan said this past Sunday truly challenged me. He said that not a single part of our story is wasted. Even the toughest times. Nothing is lost. God uses it all.
My first thought after hearing these words: Do I really believe this? Do I truly believe that EVERY part of my story, even the most painful, heartbreaking, agonizing parts, are used by God?
And as I looked back at my journey and the things I've overcome through the years, I would have to say yes. I believe that God was with me in EVERY part. That He will use everything. That my life shouts hope to those who are unsure. That the freedom I've found also comes with authority to speak that freedom over others. God never wanted me to suffer. He never wanted me to endure the hardships I have, BUT He will redeem it and use it and restore it. I want my life, my story, my journey to shout hope to others. I know that there is a reason for every season I've gone through. I know that God uses everything. That nothing is lost.
"You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed." Psalm 139:16
Loads of little feet running up and down the Stirring Kids hallway.
Hundreds of spunky kids ready for their morning. All full of energy and hope and potential.
I love Sundays.
I love saying hello to every one of those faces. Most of them return my hello with a wave or a shout or a high-five or a toothy grin.
These kids are what I live for. To show them the love the God has for them. To show them who they are in His eyes. To pour passion and love and dreams into their sweet, dear little minds.
Dan spoke on Sunday.
He always wrecks me. God pierces my heart through his words. Every time.
Something that Dan said this past Sunday truly challenged me. He said that not a single part of our story is wasted. Even the toughest times. Nothing is lost. God uses it all.
My first thought after hearing these words: Do I really believe this? Do I truly believe that EVERY part of my story, even the most painful, heartbreaking, agonizing parts, are used by God?
And as I looked back at my journey and the things I've overcome through the years, I would have to say yes. I believe that God was with me in EVERY part. That He will use everything. That my life shouts hope to those who are unsure. That the freedom I've found also comes with authority to speak that freedom over others. God never wanted me to suffer. He never wanted me to endure the hardships I have, BUT He will redeem it and use it and restore it. I want my life, my story, my journey to shout hope to others. I know that there is a reason for every season I've gone through. I know that God uses everything. That nothing is lost.
"You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed." Psalm 139:16
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Tattoo
I got a new tattoo.
It's a beautiful anchor with waves
There's a banner at the bottom that reads Deuteronomy 31:8
The colors are vibrant
The artwork is breathtaking
The meaning behind it is even better
The last year of my life has been a crazy-hard season
So much pain, so much refinement, so much breakthrough
During this year, the Lord would faithfully speak Deuteronomy 31:8 to me. I would cry out to him, and he would answer me with this verse... "Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged. The Lord himself goes before you. He will never leave you nor forsake you."
Without fail, God would respond to my cries with these words. And not as a reminder. Not telling me, REMEMBER Emily, I haven't left you. I won't forsake you.
But instead, as a promise. A promise for the days to come. Because He knew I needed to push forward, not look behind me. He was telling me that I could make it, that he wouldn't ever leave me. He was making a promise to me, just as Moses was making a promise to Joshua.
The meaning behind the anchor is simple; anchors symbolize hope. This verse was my source of hope in the darkest days. My hope that God was still with me, that I didn't need to be afraid.
Also, a wise man tells me often that I am an anchor to those around me. And his words carry a lot of weight in my life.
My tattoo is beautiful, yes. It is an AMAZING work of art. But it has so much meaning to me. I look at it, and my eyes fill with tears. God brought me through those painful, dark days just as he promised. And he never once left my side.
I am every so thankful for my great God who fulfills his promises.
It's a beautiful anchor with waves
There's a banner at the bottom that reads Deuteronomy 31:8
The colors are vibrant
The artwork is breathtaking
The meaning behind it is even better
The last year of my life has been a crazy-hard season
So much pain, so much refinement, so much breakthrough
During this year, the Lord would faithfully speak Deuteronomy 31:8 to me. I would cry out to him, and he would answer me with this verse... "Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged. The Lord himself goes before you. He will never leave you nor forsake you."
Without fail, God would respond to my cries with these words. And not as a reminder. Not telling me, REMEMBER Emily, I haven't left you. I won't forsake you.
But instead, as a promise. A promise for the days to come. Because He knew I needed to push forward, not look behind me. He was telling me that I could make it, that he wouldn't ever leave me. He was making a promise to me, just as Moses was making a promise to Joshua.
The meaning behind the anchor is simple; anchors symbolize hope. This verse was my source of hope in the darkest days. My hope that God was still with me, that I didn't need to be afraid.
Also, a wise man tells me often that I am an anchor to those around me. And his words carry a lot of weight in my life.
My tattoo is beautiful, yes. It is an AMAZING work of art. But it has so much meaning to me. I look at it, and my eyes fill with tears. God brought me through those painful, dark days just as he promised. And he never once left my side.
I am every so thankful for my great God who fulfills his promises.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
When I don't understand...
I've been listening to the new album lately. It's a couple that were signed to the Jesus Culture label, and let me tell you, their music is incredible. One song in particular really speaks to me. At one point in this song, the lyrics are so simple but extremely profound to me: "When I don't understand, I will choose you..."
That's it.
That's all she says.
Over and over.
And each time I hear this song, I am in tears.
When I don't understand, do I choose to believe? Or do I choose to control?
That's been my prayer, to choose God, even when I don't understand.
Because there are SO many things in my life that I don't understand.
Why am I still single? At the age of 26. Why haven't I fallen in love, and started a family? It's one of the greatest desires of my heart. So why hasn't it happened yet?
Why is my past peppered with such pain and heart break and destruction and trauma and tragedy?
Why do I still struggle with things God has given me freedom from?
Will I ALWAYS struggle?
And the list goes on... there are so many things I don't understand. But I want to be known as a woman who trusts God, and chooses him when I don't understand. I want to be known for celebrating in the times when I don't understand. I want to choose God and choose celebration, even when things don't make a ton of sense to me.
So, instead of trying to control the things in my life that don't make sense or that I don't understand, I am choosing God. Trusting that his way is better than mine. That his plan is greater than mine. That he is good, ALL of the time. That there isn't one single detail he has overlooked. Psalm 139 is one of my very favorites. It always remind me and center me. Verse 16 is one that I love, and that makes a lot of sense to me right now... "You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed." Not just the easy moments. Every moment. And so, even in the moments that I don't totally get it, and I don't totally understand, I will choose God.
That's it.
That's all she says.
Over and over.
And each time I hear this song, I am in tears.
When I don't understand, do I choose to believe? Or do I choose to control?
That's been my prayer, to choose God, even when I don't understand.
Because there are SO many things in my life that I don't understand.
Why am I still single? At the age of 26. Why haven't I fallen in love, and started a family? It's one of the greatest desires of my heart. So why hasn't it happened yet?
Why is my past peppered with such pain and heart break and destruction and trauma and tragedy?
Why do I still struggle with things God has given me freedom from?
Will I ALWAYS struggle?
And the list goes on... there are so many things I don't understand. But I want to be known as a woman who trusts God, and chooses him when I don't understand. I want to be known for celebrating in the times when I don't understand. I want to choose God and choose celebration, even when things don't make a ton of sense to me.
So, instead of trying to control the things in my life that don't make sense or that I don't understand, I am choosing God. Trusting that his way is better than mine. That his plan is greater than mine. That he is good, ALL of the time. That there isn't one single detail he has overlooked. Psalm 139 is one of my very favorites. It always remind me and center me. Verse 16 is one that I love, and that makes a lot of sense to me right now... "You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed." Not just the easy moments. Every moment. And so, even in the moments that I don't totally get it, and I don't totally understand, I will choose God.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
My "Yes"
For me it was easy; choose a life with God that may be uncomfortable and scary and unpredictable and incredibly painful at times OR choose the life I was living. One of destruction and abuse and addiction.
For me it was easy. I said yes to God in a moment. In a room full of women, women who I didn't know, I said yes to God, a God I didn't know either. I began to confess the sin I had been living in for years, that NO ONE knew about. I wasn't exactly sure why I was telling these strangers my deepest, darkest, most protected and guarded secrets, but I knew I could trust them.
When I look back on this moment, I recognize that it was my first TRUE encounter with God. He was there in that living room, pushing me toward His heart, urging me to be vulnerable and honest and real with these women who He wanted to use in my life.
From that moment, when I said yes to God, I haven't looked back. Sure, there have been moments when I have wondered if life would be "easier" living in the shadows and the darkness again. But then I remember all of the celebration-worthy things in my life. And those thoughts vanish.
My "yes" to God was an easy one, but it hasn't always pretty and tidy and perfect. In fact, it's been just the opposite. It's been messy and incredibly hard. God doesn't just want part of us, he wants all of us. He wants the most secret, protected, scary parts of us. In the past year I've walked through some insane stuff. And it's been agonizing and heartbreaking, but in the midst of the pain God has brought healing and freedom and redemption. These are the celebration-worth things I cling to. I know that, as I continue to say yes to God, he will continue to refine me and make me more like Him. It's probably the hardest thing I'll ever go through, but it's an easy yes for me. And I say yes everyday to him. I'm reading this book, and found this quote. It spoke so perfectly to my life and my season. I wanted to share it:
"As Christians we know, in theory at least, that in the life of a child of God there are no second causes, that even the most unjust and cruel things, as well as all seemingly pointless and undeserving sufferings, have been permitted by God as a glorious opportunity for us to react to them in such a way that our Lord and Savior is able to produce in us, little by little, his own lovely character."
For me it was easy. I said yes to God in a moment. In a room full of women, women who I didn't know, I said yes to God, a God I didn't know either. I began to confess the sin I had been living in for years, that NO ONE knew about. I wasn't exactly sure why I was telling these strangers my deepest, darkest, most protected and guarded secrets, but I knew I could trust them.
When I look back on this moment, I recognize that it was my first TRUE encounter with God. He was there in that living room, pushing me toward His heart, urging me to be vulnerable and honest and real with these women who He wanted to use in my life.
From that moment, when I said yes to God, I haven't looked back. Sure, there have been moments when I have wondered if life would be "easier" living in the shadows and the darkness again. But then I remember all of the celebration-worthy things in my life. And those thoughts vanish.
My "yes" to God was an easy one, but it hasn't always pretty and tidy and perfect. In fact, it's been just the opposite. It's been messy and incredibly hard. God doesn't just want part of us, he wants all of us. He wants the most secret, protected, scary parts of us. In the past year I've walked through some insane stuff. And it's been agonizing and heartbreaking, but in the midst of the pain God has brought healing and freedom and redemption. These are the celebration-worth things I cling to. I know that, as I continue to say yes to God, he will continue to refine me and make me more like Him. It's probably the hardest thing I'll ever go through, but it's an easy yes for me. And I say yes everyday to him. I'm reading this book, and found this quote. It spoke so perfectly to my life and my season. I wanted to share it:
"As Christians we know, in theory at least, that in the life of a child of God there are no second causes, that even the most unjust and cruel things, as well as all seemingly pointless and undeserving sufferings, have been permitted by God as a glorious opportunity for us to react to them in such a way that our Lord and Savior is able to produce in us, little by little, his own lovely character."
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Second Chances
Second chances are so beautiful.
We've all screwed up. We've all failed. We've all done something we're less than proud of. And we all deserve a second chance.
A few years back I was introduced to this organization called People of a Second Chance. It's a beautiful organization that is all about radical grace and forgiveness in ministry and leadership. This is a quote from their website that gets me teary eyed every time I read it:
"We are not ashamed of our scars, wounds, or failures and leverage them as a source of strength and character development."
Second chances are so beautiful. They are so powerful. In my life, God has given me the greatest second chance of all. And so has the community I've surrounded myself with. I've made my fair share of mistakes. Some pretty big ones. I've messed up. I've fallen pretty far down a path of destruction and chaos. But when I reached an all-time low, I found that I was given a second chance to become the woman God wanted me to be all along. I wasn't looked down upon, I wasn't judged for my past. I was loved in a deep, true, authentic way. And that's what made all the difference. Now, my passion and burning desire is to become that second chance for others. To be that voice of hope and love to someone who has fallen just as far as I had. Just as I freely received that love, I want to freely give it.
Second chances are so beautiful. They bring life to the lifeless. They bring hope to the hopeless. They remind people that they ARE worthy of love and something better than what they're living now.
I was deeply moved by this blog today. You should go, right now, and read it. It's incredible. God wants to heal MORE than our bodies. He wants to heal our hearts. What's a better way to heal a heart than by offering a second chance? By offering forgiveness and love instead of bitterness and anger? I can't think of one. I'm so thankful for the grace that has been shown to me.
Second chances are just so beautiful.
We've all screwed up. We've all failed. We've all done something we're less than proud of. And we all deserve a second chance.
A few years back I was introduced to this organization called People of a Second Chance. It's a beautiful organization that is all about radical grace and forgiveness in ministry and leadership. This is a quote from their website that gets me teary eyed every time I read it:
"We are not ashamed of our scars, wounds, or failures and leverage them as a source of strength and character development."
Second chances are so beautiful. They are so powerful. In my life, God has given me the greatest second chance of all. And so has the community I've surrounded myself with. I've made my fair share of mistakes. Some pretty big ones. I've messed up. I've fallen pretty far down a path of destruction and chaos. But when I reached an all-time low, I found that I was given a second chance to become the woman God wanted me to be all along. I wasn't looked down upon, I wasn't judged for my past. I was loved in a deep, true, authentic way. And that's what made all the difference. Now, my passion and burning desire is to become that second chance for others. To be that voice of hope and love to someone who has fallen just as far as I had. Just as I freely received that love, I want to freely give it.
Second chances are so beautiful. They bring life to the lifeless. They bring hope to the hopeless. They remind people that they ARE worthy of love and something better than what they're living now.
I was deeply moved by this blog today. You should go, right now, and read it. It's incredible. God wants to heal MORE than our bodies. He wants to heal our hearts. What's a better way to heal a heart than by offering a second chance? By offering forgiveness and love instead of bitterness and anger? I can't think of one. I'm so thankful for the grace that has been shown to me.
Second chances are just so beautiful.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Fathers.
Viewing God as my father has always been a struggle for me. The lens I view a father through is a dysfunctional, painful one. A lens with a lot of hurt and a lot of confusion. So when I cry out to God as his daughter, there is an immediate distortion, followed by an immediate hesitation. I begin to pile on to God all of the attributes of my biological father. His short temper and impatience with me. His lack of compassion and love and tenderness. His indifference. His passivity. His lack of interest.
These are the things I unfairly associate with a father, and therefore, with God.
Last night, there was a call for prayer at the end of our 6:00 gathering at the Stirring. Derrick called forward people who felt they had a skewed view of the Father, and who needed to hear they were the Beloved Child of God. The longer I stood there, the clearer it was that I needed to have a specific leader pray for me. Stubbornly, I took my time but did eventually make it over to Sean. I gave him a brief summary of what was going on with me, and his response was simple. "Emily, you wouldn't be the person you are today if your dad was your only Father. You are who you are today because God is your Father first."
Such a simple truth, but something I'd never given much thought to.
Without God, I would not be where I am. I would not have the job that I have, the passions that I have, the family that I have... I would be a completely different person. It is clear that I am the Beloved daughter of the King because of the way he has transformed my life. And while I'm sure it will be an ongoing struggle for me to see clearly through the "God-Is-My-Father" lens, I know that I am deeply loved by my Father. And that's a start, right?
These are the things I unfairly associate with a father, and therefore, with God.
Last night, there was a call for prayer at the end of our 6:00 gathering at the Stirring. Derrick called forward people who felt they had a skewed view of the Father, and who needed to hear they were the Beloved Child of God. The longer I stood there, the clearer it was that I needed to have a specific leader pray for me. Stubbornly, I took my time but did eventually make it over to Sean. I gave him a brief summary of what was going on with me, and his response was simple. "Emily, you wouldn't be the person you are today if your dad was your only Father. You are who you are today because God is your Father first."
Such a simple truth, but something I'd never given much thought to.
Without God, I would not be where I am. I would not have the job that I have, the passions that I have, the family that I have... I would be a completely different person. It is clear that I am the Beloved daughter of the King because of the way he has transformed my life. And while I'm sure it will be an ongoing struggle for me to see clearly through the "God-Is-My-Father" lens, I know that I am deeply loved by my Father. And that's a start, right?
Monday, May 30, 2011
Loss knows no limits.
Loss knows no limits.
Whether you've lost a child, a parent, a spouse, a part of yourself, a season in your life... there is a certain understanding that unites all people who have experienced true, heartbreaking, seemingly impossible loss. I hear stories about people who have lost their 3 month old babies in car accidents, or people who have lost their husband of 30+ years to cancer, or of women who have had bits and pieces of their identity ripped from their grasp and my heart immediately feels united with theirs. Their loss is my loss. I understand it. I feel it. I grieve and mourn with them. While our stories are so different, we have both experienced loss in such a real and life-changing way. Loss knows no limits. It is universal. The pain and grief that come with loss, whatever the form, is the same. I find so much hope in this, knowing that I am not alone. Knowing that others understand, to some extent, the heartbreak I feel. Knowing that, before ANY of our suffering, Jesus felt the same loss. I love how JJ Heller says it in her song Control "...there were scars before my scars. Love written on the hands that hung the stars. Hope living in the blood that was spilled for me...."
I find hope knowing that there were scars before my scars.
And I get to choose, everyday, how I respond to the hurt and pain I feel. I can let it control my life. I can let it debilitate me. I can give in to the hopelessness.
OR
I can believe in God's great plan for my life. I can believe that every obstacle and unjust thing and seemingly impossible struggle that occurs in my life "has been permitted by God as a glorious opportunity for us to react to them in such a way that our Lord and Savior is able to produce in us, little by little, his own lovely character." -Hannah Hurnard
I can't say that I understand the reasons behind why these things happen. Loss isn't fair. It doesn't make sense. It hurts and is horribly impossible. But I choose to believe. To have faith. To live a life of surrender to my God, knowing that He wants me to be more like him. Knowing that He will use every impossible situation to make me more like him. Knowing that he is a good God, always.
Loss knows no limits, but neither does God's great love. That's the truth.
Whether you've lost a child, a parent, a spouse, a part of yourself, a season in your life... there is a certain understanding that unites all people who have experienced true, heartbreaking, seemingly impossible loss. I hear stories about people who have lost their 3 month old babies in car accidents, or people who have lost their husband of 30+ years to cancer, or of women who have had bits and pieces of their identity ripped from their grasp and my heart immediately feels united with theirs. Their loss is my loss. I understand it. I feel it. I grieve and mourn with them. While our stories are so different, we have both experienced loss in such a real and life-changing way. Loss knows no limits. It is universal. The pain and grief that come with loss, whatever the form, is the same. I find so much hope in this, knowing that I am not alone. Knowing that others understand, to some extent, the heartbreak I feel. Knowing that, before ANY of our suffering, Jesus felt the same loss. I love how JJ Heller says it in her song Control "...there were scars before my scars. Love written on the hands that hung the stars. Hope living in the blood that was spilled for me...."
I find hope knowing that there were scars before my scars.
And I get to choose, everyday, how I respond to the hurt and pain I feel. I can let it control my life. I can let it debilitate me. I can give in to the hopelessness.
OR
I can believe in God's great plan for my life. I can believe that every obstacle and unjust thing and seemingly impossible struggle that occurs in my life "has been permitted by God as a glorious opportunity for us to react to them in such a way that our Lord and Savior is able to produce in us, little by little, his own lovely character." -Hannah Hurnard
I can't say that I understand the reasons behind why these things happen. Loss isn't fair. It doesn't make sense. It hurts and is horribly impossible. But I choose to believe. To have faith. To live a life of surrender to my God, knowing that He wants me to be more like him. Knowing that He will use every impossible situation to make me more like him. Knowing that he is a good God, always.
Loss knows no limits, but neither does God's great love. That's the truth.
Friday, April 15, 2011
It is April. There is hope.
April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month.
I keep seeing banners and tweets and updates about it. It seems to be in my face everywhere I turn.
When I was 16, I was a victim of sexual assault.
It's taken me years to talk about. 10 years, to be exact. I've lived with this big, painful, paralyzing, dark secret for 10 years. Nobody knew. And that's how I wanted it. I carried so much shame. So much guilt. I thought people would judge me if they knew. I thought they would leave me, betray me, reject me if they knew the truth. So, I kept the secret. Until almost exactly a year ago. That's when I had possibly the hardest conversation of my life. Unveiling the truth that I'd been hiding for 10 years. There were a lot of tears. And there was a lot of fear. But, once the truth was out there, out in the light, out of the darkness it had been living in for 10 years, everything changed.
The shame and
fear and
pain and
guilt began to disappear.
And were replaced with truth and
joy and
victory and
freedom.
God began to speak truth and life back into the most broken and wounded places in me. He began to restore and redeem and heal. It was a long, hard road. One that I'm still journeying down. But one that I choose to take every day. I choose to believe the things God says about me. I choose to celebrate and press into God's words for my life. I choose to see the progress I've made. I choose the hope I have in God. Part of healing is a choice. You have to choose to tell your story. Even if you've been keeping it a secret for 10 years. You have to choose to be vulnerable and real. And to trust God.
I'm choosing to tell this part of my story, not because it's fun (it's actually still kind of terrifying to tell... especially in such a public way), but because awareness needs to be raised. One in four women will be sexually assaulted at some point in their lifetime.
One in four.
The numbers are shocking, but what's even MORE shocking is that many of those women won't report or even talk about the assault.
I'm telling this part of my story so that people know they aren't alone. And so they know that there is hope.
Deuteronomy 31:6 is my constant reminder that there is hope, that God doesn't leave us, that we don't have to be afraid or terrified or fearful... "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”
That is his promise to us. He will never leave us. He will never forsake us. There is hope.
April is Sexual Assault Awareness month. That's why I'm choosing to tell this part of my story.
I keep seeing banners and tweets and updates about it. It seems to be in my face everywhere I turn.
When I was 16, I was a victim of sexual assault.
It's taken me years to talk about. 10 years, to be exact. I've lived with this big, painful, paralyzing, dark secret for 10 years. Nobody knew. And that's how I wanted it. I carried so much shame. So much guilt. I thought people would judge me if they knew. I thought they would leave me, betray me, reject me if they knew the truth. So, I kept the secret. Until almost exactly a year ago. That's when I had possibly the hardest conversation of my life. Unveiling the truth that I'd been hiding for 10 years. There were a lot of tears. And there was a lot of fear. But, once the truth was out there, out in the light, out of the darkness it had been living in for 10 years, everything changed.
The shame and
fear and
pain and
guilt began to disappear.
And were replaced with truth and
joy and
victory and
freedom.
God began to speak truth and life back into the most broken and wounded places in me. He began to restore and redeem and heal. It was a long, hard road. One that I'm still journeying down. But one that I choose to take every day. I choose to believe the things God says about me. I choose to celebrate and press into God's words for my life. I choose to see the progress I've made. I choose the hope I have in God. Part of healing is a choice. You have to choose to tell your story. Even if you've been keeping it a secret for 10 years. You have to choose to be vulnerable and real. And to trust God.
I'm choosing to tell this part of my story, not because it's fun (it's actually still kind of terrifying to tell... especially in such a public way), but because awareness needs to be raised. One in four women will be sexually assaulted at some point in their lifetime.
One in four.
The numbers are shocking, but what's even MORE shocking is that many of those women won't report or even talk about the assault.
I'm telling this part of my story so that people know they aren't alone. And so they know that there is hope.
Deuteronomy 31:6 is my constant reminder that there is hope, that God doesn't leave us, that we don't have to be afraid or terrified or fearful... "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”
That is his promise to us. He will never leave us. He will never forsake us. There is hope.
April is Sexual Assault Awareness month. That's why I'm choosing to tell this part of my story.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Rear-view mirrors
Sometimes the past fogs my vision.
I try to live life through the rear-view mirror.
I hold onto the past.
To the pain from the past.
I become comfortable with that pain.
It becomes a little companion that I carry with me everywhere I go.
Reminding me of the things I've done wrong.
Of what a mess I am.
Of what a mess my life looks like most days.
Of all the ways I've made mistakes.
And of all the ways those mistakes will forever go with me.
This companion, it has a name.
This companion is called shame.
It's sneaky and tricky and comes camouflaged in all shapes and sizes.
It settles into the places in your inner-most being, the most tucked away places, the most hidden and repressed. The most insecure.
And it sits there.
And sits there.
And sits there.
Reminding you of why you aren't worthy.
And why you aren't deserving of good things.
And all of the things you've done wrong.
And so, you listen.
You believe.
You accept these as the truth.
Because it's what you hear and feel. So it becomes reality.
But, there's some good news.
Really, really, exceptionally, extraordinarily, astonishingly, stupendously good news.
When Jesus climbed the mountain
And hung on the Cross
And laid down his life for us
It meant no more sacrificing, no more striving, no more living in a place of pain, of sin, of shame.
When Jesus uttered the words "It is finished" it meant we could stop climbing that mountain of shame.
Shame is gone. That constant companion is forever vanished from our lives.
And in it's place is joy
and love
and peace
and excitement
and hope
and redemption
and healing
and freedom
and strength.
Shame is gone. Because of Jesus, shame will never have a place in our lives ever again.
My favorite Psalm says it best, "Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces." Psalm 34:5
So when the truth is hard to see, and I'm living from my rear-view mirror, I have to remember that I don't have to climb that mountain any more. It is finished. Jesus took the last trip up that mountain.
And because of that, I get to live from a place of such beauty. Such gratitude. Such love. Such joy.
I try to live life through the rear-view mirror.
I hold onto the past.
To the pain from the past.
I become comfortable with that pain.
It becomes a little companion that I carry with me everywhere I go.
Reminding me of the things I've done wrong.
Of what a mess I am.
Of what a mess my life looks like most days.
Of all the ways I've made mistakes.
And of all the ways those mistakes will forever go with me.
This companion, it has a name.
This companion is called shame.
It's sneaky and tricky and comes camouflaged in all shapes and sizes.
It settles into the places in your inner-most being, the most tucked away places, the most hidden and repressed. The most insecure.
And it sits there.
And sits there.
And sits there.
Reminding you of why you aren't worthy.
And why you aren't deserving of good things.
And all of the things you've done wrong.
And so, you listen.
You believe.
You accept these as the truth.
Because it's what you hear and feel. So it becomes reality.
But, there's some good news.
Really, really, exceptionally, extraordinarily, astonishingly, stupendously good news.
When Jesus climbed the mountain
And hung on the Cross
And laid down his life for us
It meant no more sacrificing, no more striving, no more living in a place of pain, of sin, of shame.
When Jesus uttered the words "It is finished" it meant we could stop climbing that mountain of shame.
Shame is gone. That constant companion is forever vanished from our lives.
And in it's place is joy
and love
and peace
and excitement
and hope
and redemption
and healing
and freedom
and strength.
Shame is gone. Because of Jesus, shame will never have a place in our lives ever again.
My favorite Psalm says it best, "Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces." Psalm 34:5
So when the truth is hard to see, and I'm living from my rear-view mirror, I have to remember that I don't have to climb that mountain any more. It is finished. Jesus took the last trip up that mountain.
And because of that, I get to live from a place of such beauty. Such gratitude. Such love. Such joy.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Brokenness.
Nate wrapped up our "Deep Shift" series this past Sunday with a great word about what being on mission really looks like, and how Jesus models that for us. He landed on a verse out of Luke 24 that really got me thinking... "As they sat down to eat, he took the bread and blessed it. Then he broke it and gave it to them. Suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they recognized him." Luke 24:30, 31
He took the bread
He blessed the bread
He broke the bread
He gave the bread away.
Jesus took it
He blessed it
He broke it
He gave it away.
Isn't that exactly what he does with us?
He takes us- maybe it's from a broken home or an awful situation or an apathetic attitude.
He blesses us- our lives change in a moment. We are no longer in that old place, but in a blessed place
He breaks us- he begins to work within our hearts, he places his finger on the things in our lives that need to break and allow HIS healing to become fixed, we become broken for the things that move us.
He gives us- he places us in the lives of others who need to see his goodness, who need be reminded of his unfailing, never-ending, all consuming love.
I love this parallel, and I think that many of us really get the first three steps of this. We allow Jesus to take us, to rescue us from the mess and trouble and pain that we're in. We allow him to bless us, to make us new, to fix our mess and trouble and pain. But then we get stuck. We get stuck in the brokenness. We get stuck in our OWN brokenness. Our lives are too broken. There's too much that needs to be fixed. God can't use US. No way. Nope. We are too broken.
OR
We get stuck in the way that God breaks our hearts.
We can't reach EVERY woman who is affected by sex trafficking, so we just don't try.
We can't help EVERY abused child, so we give up.
Our passions and burning hearts seem impossible to fulfill, so we just get stuck.
We seem to get stuck in our brokenness.
But, you see, there's a final step to this process.
Jesus TAKES the bread
He BLESSES it
He BREAKS it... and then... wait for it...
He gives it.
He gives it away.
Sometimes, we have to push through our brokenness to see that Jesus wants us to give our life, our stories, our victories, our passions, our desires, our dreams AWAY. He wants us to pour our lives out on others around us. When we get stuck in our brokenness, we can't reach others. We can't share our stories with others. We can't pour out our love and our passion on the ones around us who need it.
For a long time, I felt like my life was marked by brokenness.
And I couldn't figure out how in the world Jesus could use my broken life, my mess, my pain and suffering to help anybody else.
But, as I continued to push through my brokenness, I began to realize he was continuously bringing people into my life who needed to hear a little bit of my story. A little bit about the ways God showed up for me. A little bit about the freedom I'd found. And as I continued to share my life and my story and my brokenness with others, God began to heal me.
I love Psalm 34:18.
It says "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed."
He is close to us. Especially when our hearts are broken. Especially when we feel crushed. That's why we need to share out of a place of brokenness. Because he is especially close in those times of our lives.
Don't get stuck in your brokenness. Push through your brokenness. Allow God to take you, bless you, break you AND give you away.
He took the bread
He blessed the bread
He broke the bread
He gave the bread away.
Jesus took it
He blessed it
He broke it
He gave it away.
Isn't that exactly what he does with us?
He takes us- maybe it's from a broken home or an awful situation or an apathetic attitude.
He blesses us- our lives change in a moment. We are no longer in that old place, but in a blessed place
He breaks us- he begins to work within our hearts, he places his finger on the things in our lives that need to break and allow HIS healing to become fixed, we become broken for the things that move us.
He gives us- he places us in the lives of others who need to see his goodness, who need be reminded of his unfailing, never-ending, all consuming love.
I love this parallel, and I think that many of us really get the first three steps of this. We allow Jesus to take us, to rescue us from the mess and trouble and pain that we're in. We allow him to bless us, to make us new, to fix our mess and trouble and pain. But then we get stuck. We get stuck in the brokenness. We get stuck in our OWN brokenness. Our lives are too broken. There's too much that needs to be fixed. God can't use US. No way. Nope. We are too broken.
OR
We get stuck in the way that God breaks our hearts.
We can't reach EVERY woman who is affected by sex trafficking, so we just don't try.
We can't help EVERY abused child, so we give up.
Our passions and burning hearts seem impossible to fulfill, so we just get stuck.
We seem to get stuck in our brokenness.
But, you see, there's a final step to this process.
Jesus TAKES the bread
He BLESSES it
He BREAKS it... and then... wait for it...
He gives it.
He gives it away.
Sometimes, we have to push through our brokenness to see that Jesus wants us to give our life, our stories, our victories, our passions, our desires, our dreams AWAY. He wants us to pour our lives out on others around us. When we get stuck in our brokenness, we can't reach others. We can't share our stories with others. We can't pour out our love and our passion on the ones around us who need it.
For a long time, I felt like my life was marked by brokenness.
And I couldn't figure out how in the world Jesus could use my broken life, my mess, my pain and suffering to help anybody else.
But, as I continued to push through my brokenness, I began to realize he was continuously bringing people into my life who needed to hear a little bit of my story. A little bit about the ways God showed up for me. A little bit about the freedom I'd found. And as I continued to share my life and my story and my brokenness with others, God began to heal me.
I love Psalm 34:18.
It says "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed."
He is close to us. Especially when our hearts are broken. Especially when we feel crushed. That's why we need to share out of a place of brokenness. Because he is especially close in those times of our lives.
Don't get stuck in your brokenness. Push through your brokenness. Allow God to take you, bless you, break you AND give you away.
Friday, March 18, 2011
What's your "lunch"?
This post has been in the works for a long time. I've been sitting with these thoughts for a while. So here goes nothing...
On Sunday, Nate spoke about giving our lives to the things we're passionate about. He talked about how if you're willing to give your life to reach a generation, you WILL see that in your day. At the end of the evening, Nate talked about when Jesus fed the 5,000 people. It all started with a boy's lunch. Just a lunch. A simple lunch. A few loaves of bread. A few fish. That's all they had. But they gave EVERYTHING they had to Jesus, and saw thousands fed.
What's your "lunch"? What's the thing that you look at and say "But, it's ONLY a few loaves..."? For me, I really feel like the story of where I've been and what I've come through is my "lunch." I find myself constantly saying "But it's such a mess! It's still not all figured out. There's still pain and hurt and brokenness...." But the point that Nate made with this story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 was that if you offer up the things you have, great or small, to Jesus, he can use them to save lives.
He can use them to reach others who are
broken and
hurting and
lost.
He can use them to change a generation.
I promised myself that I would ALWAYS offer up my story to Jesus. For him to use. For him to display his goodness through my life. I would try to never say no. Because I just can't imagine leaving a conversation and wondering what my story could have done for someone else. Maybe they needed to hear that there really IS hope. That God really DOES rescue us. My story is a messy, painful, heartbreaking story. But it also is one of redemption and restoration. And THOSE are the things that I want to share. That's my "lunch". It's all I have. But I'll offer it up. Every time.
What's your "lunch"?
On Sunday, Nate spoke about giving our lives to the things we're passionate about. He talked about how if you're willing to give your life to reach a generation, you WILL see that in your day. At the end of the evening, Nate talked about when Jesus fed the 5,000 people. It all started with a boy's lunch. Just a lunch. A simple lunch. A few loaves of bread. A few fish. That's all they had. But they gave EVERYTHING they had to Jesus, and saw thousands fed.
What's your "lunch"? What's the thing that you look at and say "But, it's ONLY a few loaves..."? For me, I really feel like the story of where I've been and what I've come through is my "lunch." I find myself constantly saying "But it's such a mess! It's still not all figured out. There's still pain and hurt and brokenness...." But the point that Nate made with this story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 was that if you offer up the things you have, great or small, to Jesus, he can use them to save lives.
He can use them to reach others who are
broken and
hurting and
lost.
He can use them to change a generation.
I promised myself that I would ALWAYS offer up my story to Jesus. For him to use. For him to display his goodness through my life. I would try to never say no. Because I just can't imagine leaving a conversation and wondering what my story could have done for someone else. Maybe they needed to hear that there really IS hope. That God really DOES rescue us. My story is a messy, painful, heartbreaking story. But it also is one of redemption and restoration. And THOSE are the things that I want to share. That's my "lunch". It's all I have. But I'll offer it up. Every time.
What's your "lunch"?
Monday, March 7, 2011
Vulnerability
What happens in your stomach when you hear the word 'Vulnerability'? Do you cringe? Cry? Look for the nearest exit? Withdraw? Hide behind the walls you've put up?
I just watched an incredible video by a woman named Brene Brown on Ted Talks titled "The power of vulnerability." Mind blowing. This woman, a Research-Storyteller (as she calls herself) was doing some research on shame, and stumbled upon a few things... to get the whole story, check out the video here.
A few things REALLY struck me, and I thought I'd share...
-You deconstruct shame with vulnerability.
Brown found that people who had a deep sense of love and belonging were those who believed they were WORTHY of love and belonging. These people had the courage to be imperfect, compassion to be kind to themselves first, and vulnerability. They fully embraced who they were and knew that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful.
-Brown found that while vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and worthiness, it is also the birth place of joy and belonging and love.
She had SO many other amazing points, but these two... they really rocked me.
As I reflected on my own struggles and my own story, I realized just how true this is. When I fully embraced vulnerability, shame and fear and rejection were replaced by joy and love and belonging. There is immense freedom in vulnerability. And yes it's scary, but when you begin to fully embrace who you are, and when you are real about it, the shame is deconstructed. It sort of just vanishes.
I used to be paralyzed by shame. It dictated everything I said and did. I lived behind walls and walls and walls of shame. But as I began to be honest and real with my life and my story, the walls came down. I'm a changed person. I've found freedom, and I truly believe that without being real and vulnerable with my story, I would still be living behind the walls of shame.
I believe vulnerability looks different for every person. It's not a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. Maybe it's being real with the people in your life for the first time. Maybe it's confessing to a friend. Maybe it's opening up to your husband or wife. But I know for me, I don't want to waste another moment. When God calls me to be vulnerable (which happens a LOT), I want to act in obedience.
Is there an are in your life that God is calling you to be vulnerable with? How will you respond?
I just watched an incredible video by a woman named Brene Brown on Ted Talks titled "The power of vulnerability." Mind blowing. This woman, a Research-Storyteller (as she calls herself) was doing some research on shame, and stumbled upon a few things... to get the whole story, check out the video here.
A few things REALLY struck me, and I thought I'd share...
-You deconstruct shame with vulnerability.
Brown found that people who had a deep sense of love and belonging were those who believed they were WORTHY of love and belonging. These people had the courage to be imperfect, compassion to be kind to themselves first, and vulnerability. They fully embraced who they were and knew that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful.
-Brown found that while vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and worthiness, it is also the birth place of joy and belonging and love.
She had SO many other amazing points, but these two... they really rocked me.
As I reflected on my own struggles and my own story, I realized just how true this is. When I fully embraced vulnerability, shame and fear and rejection were replaced by joy and love and belonging. There is immense freedom in vulnerability. And yes it's scary, but when you begin to fully embrace who you are, and when you are real about it, the shame is deconstructed. It sort of just vanishes.
I used to be paralyzed by shame. It dictated everything I said and did. I lived behind walls and walls and walls of shame. But as I began to be honest and real with my life and my story, the walls came down. I'm a changed person. I've found freedom, and I truly believe that without being real and vulnerable with my story, I would still be living behind the walls of shame.
I believe vulnerability looks different for every person. It's not a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. Maybe it's being real with the people in your life for the first time. Maybe it's confessing to a friend. Maybe it's opening up to your husband or wife. But I know for me, I don't want to waste another moment. When God calls me to be vulnerable (which happens a LOT), I want to act in obedience.
Is there an are in your life that God is calling you to be vulnerable with? How will you respond?
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Celebration
Last week was a hard week. I had a few days where I was really struggling. I got super down. Super bummed. I couldn't see past my struggles. I got so frustrated because I really thought I was on the other side of all of this. I really thought I had overcome this junk. I was starting to feel like there was no hope....
But then a friend (a few friends actually) reminded me of something: this is a season of celebration.
I get to celebrate because the struggles are few and far between, not every day like they used to be.
I get to celebrate because what was once something that occupied my EVERY THOUGHT, is now easily tossed aside and overcome.
I get to celebrate because Jesus has set me free.
And yes, there might be moments that are harder than others, but I get to celebrate because I have new life.
I get to celebrate because I've worked hard to get to where I am.
I get to celebrate because I've made a TON of progress.
Sometimes we need a little perspective.
Sometimes we need friends to remind us that we've come really far, and that there might be hard days, but those hard days are the exception now. Not the norm.
Sometimes we need to CHOOSE to celebrate in the face of discouragement and frustration.
So, my question for you is this: Are you choosing to celebrate today? Even though you may feel frustrated and overwhelmed by how impossible your situation is? You've got to be able to see the things in life that are worthy of celebration.
I'm thankful that this is a season of celebration.
But then a friend (a few friends actually) reminded me of something: this is a season of celebration.
I get to celebrate because the struggles are few and far between, not every day like they used to be.
I get to celebrate because what was once something that occupied my EVERY THOUGHT, is now easily tossed aside and overcome.
I get to celebrate because Jesus has set me free.
And yes, there might be moments that are harder than others, but I get to celebrate because I have new life.
I get to celebrate because I've worked hard to get to where I am.
I get to celebrate because I've made a TON of progress.
Sometimes we need a little perspective.
Sometimes we need friends to remind us that we've come really far, and that there might be hard days, but those hard days are the exception now. Not the norm.
Sometimes we need to CHOOSE to celebrate in the face of discouragement and frustration.
So, my question for you is this: Are you choosing to celebrate today? Even though you may feel frustrated and overwhelmed by how impossible your situation is? You've got to be able to see the things in life that are worthy of celebration.
I'm thankful that this is a season of celebration.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
God > Darkness
Ever have one of those days? The kind of day where you are suddenly struck with the growth and change that's taken place in your life and in your heart?
The kind of day where you look back and realize that the painful, dark, impossible, awful season you were in has finally given way to a new, joyful, beautiful one?
I had that day today.
Dan spoke at the Stirring today, and had an amazing word about traveling alone.
He framed it all around an experience he had while running during the wee hours of the morning.
Alone.
In the pitch black.
He talked about the importance of friends when running in the dark. About how friends bring clarity and courage, because in the dark you can start to believe some crazy things.
They remind you of the reality of the situation.
This won't go on forever.
You can get through this.
It's going to get better soon.
This is just a season.
Keep going.
Be strong, don't give up.
Because it's easy to forget what you know, what the truth is, in the dark. Friends remind you.
Another point Dan made was that when you're in a dark season, you need community. You need your Church family. You need people around you who can attest to God's goodness. Who can remind you that they were RIGHT THERE at one point. They were where you're at, but now they're not. God will show up, he will heal. He will restore. He will fulfill his promises. He hasn't forgotten. You need community, you need to hear the stories of people who have been there.
I especially love the picture that was painted about the rooster... how roosters bring hope that dawn is near... light is near. The darkness is coming to an end. This time WILL end. We all need roosters in our lives. People who are constantly reminding us that this painful, heart-wrenching, agonizing, dark, lonely season WILL come to an end. That light is coming. Jesus is coming. He will free us. He will heal us. He will restore the hurting.
I look back on the past year of my life, and realize it was an incredibly dark, painful, agonizing, impossible season.
I faced some hard stuff. Stuff that might take me a while to share. Stuff that lived for YEARS hidden and buried, not talked about, not thought about, untouched, forgotten. Stuff that, as it began to surface, and as I began to feel it and grieve it, God began to heal it.
I can't sit here and tell you it was a quick, pretty, relatively pain-free experience.
It was not.
It was messy, and hard, and not very fun, and agonizing at times.
There were a lot of tears.
There were days where I was just sure I couldn't go on.
I couldn't feel the way I felt for one more second.
I couldn't face the things I was facing one more time.
But I did.
And God showed up.
But, I have to be honest, I could have never done it alone.
In my darkest season, I had friends around me. Friends who I was going there with. Friends who knew where I was at, and were walking (or, RUNNING) with me.
In my darkest season, I was fully submerged in community. I was there. Every week. At Life Group. At work. At church. In community. I wanted to isolate. I wanted to run! I wanted to get the heck out, but I didn't.
In my darkest season, I had roosters all around me. So many. One in particular was a VERY loud rooster... Every Friday, I would sit on Alyssa's couch and she would remind me "You can do this. Don't give up. It won't be this bad forever. It's just a season. It's just a process. There is hope. God will restore. He will show up. He will heal. It won't be like this forever." When I left that couch, there was a confidence that hope was near. Something in my soul knew that light was coming. Even though it felt impossible. Even though I didn't want to face another day. Even though my heart was broken and my pain was overwhelming, there was hope. Morning was coming.
I look back on the past year, and realize my morning has come. The darkness has lifted. Light has filled my life. That impossible feeling is gone. There is healing. There is restoration. There is joy.
And more than ANY of that, there is a reason I went through it.
Dan's last point tonight was this: People with experience are important when you're in the dark. You need to find people who have been there before. Who have traveled that road. Who have been through some of what you've been through. Because they bring a different insight. They bring different perspective. They KNOW that road better than others.
I hope that, some day, God will use my story to help me journey with others. Other women who are experiencing the same pain and suffering that I have experienced. Women who feel like they can't go on. Like there is no hope. I know that I went through that awful, painful, miserable, dark season so that I would know the road. And be the rooster for someone else.
What I love is that, even though there was so much hardship, there is tremendous victory in my story.
God rescued
and redeemed
and set free
and healed
and saved
and restored in my story.
This verse is quickly becoming one of my favorites because it speaks of the HOPE we can have in God, and his great desire to free us from the darkness...
"Nevertheless, that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever...The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine." Isaiah 9:1-2
The kind of day where you look back and realize that the painful, dark, impossible, awful season you were in has finally given way to a new, joyful, beautiful one?
I had that day today.
Dan spoke at the Stirring today, and had an amazing word about traveling alone.
He framed it all around an experience he had while running during the wee hours of the morning.
Alone.
In the pitch black.
He talked about the importance of friends when running in the dark. About how friends bring clarity and courage, because in the dark you can start to believe some crazy things.
They remind you of the reality of the situation.
This won't go on forever.
You can get through this.
It's going to get better soon.
This is just a season.
Keep going.
Be strong, don't give up.
Because it's easy to forget what you know, what the truth is, in the dark. Friends remind you.
Another point Dan made was that when you're in a dark season, you need community. You need your Church family. You need people around you who can attest to God's goodness. Who can remind you that they were RIGHT THERE at one point. They were where you're at, but now they're not. God will show up, he will heal. He will restore. He will fulfill his promises. He hasn't forgotten. You need community, you need to hear the stories of people who have been there.
I especially love the picture that was painted about the rooster... how roosters bring hope that dawn is near... light is near. The darkness is coming to an end. This time WILL end. We all need roosters in our lives. People who are constantly reminding us that this painful, heart-wrenching, agonizing, dark, lonely season WILL come to an end. That light is coming. Jesus is coming. He will free us. He will heal us. He will restore the hurting.
I look back on the past year of my life, and realize it was an incredibly dark, painful, agonizing, impossible season.
I faced some hard stuff. Stuff that might take me a while to share. Stuff that lived for YEARS hidden and buried, not talked about, not thought about, untouched, forgotten. Stuff that, as it began to surface, and as I began to feel it and grieve it, God began to heal it.
I can't sit here and tell you it was a quick, pretty, relatively pain-free experience.
It was not.
It was messy, and hard, and not very fun, and agonizing at times.
There were a lot of tears.
There were days where I was just sure I couldn't go on.
I couldn't feel the way I felt for one more second.
I couldn't face the things I was facing one more time.
But I did.
And God showed up.
But, I have to be honest, I could have never done it alone.
In my darkest season, I had friends around me. Friends who I was going there with. Friends who knew where I was at, and were walking (or, RUNNING) with me.
In my darkest season, I was fully submerged in community. I was there. Every week. At Life Group. At work. At church. In community. I wanted to isolate. I wanted to run! I wanted to get the heck out, but I didn't.
In my darkest season, I had roosters all around me. So many. One in particular was a VERY loud rooster... Every Friday, I would sit on Alyssa's couch and she would remind me "You can do this. Don't give up. It won't be this bad forever. It's just a season. It's just a process. There is hope. God will restore. He will show up. He will heal. It won't be like this forever." When I left that couch, there was a confidence that hope was near. Something in my soul knew that light was coming. Even though it felt impossible. Even though I didn't want to face another day. Even though my heart was broken and my pain was overwhelming, there was hope. Morning was coming.
I look back on the past year, and realize my morning has come. The darkness has lifted. Light has filled my life. That impossible feeling is gone. There is healing. There is restoration. There is joy.
And more than ANY of that, there is a reason I went through it.
Dan's last point tonight was this: People with experience are important when you're in the dark. You need to find people who have been there before. Who have traveled that road. Who have been through some of what you've been through. Because they bring a different insight. They bring different perspective. They KNOW that road better than others.
I hope that, some day, God will use my story to help me journey with others. Other women who are experiencing the same pain and suffering that I have experienced. Women who feel like they can't go on. Like there is no hope. I know that I went through that awful, painful, miserable, dark season so that I would know the road. And be the rooster for someone else.
What I love is that, even though there was so much hardship, there is tremendous victory in my story.
God rescued
and redeemed
and set free
and healed
and saved
and restored in my story.
This verse is quickly becoming one of my favorites because it speaks of the HOPE we can have in God, and his great desire to free us from the darkness...
"Nevertheless, that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever...The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine." Isaiah 9:1-2
Friday, January 28, 2011
Today is Friday
Today was a good day.
I got to stand before a group of women tonight and bear a little bit of my soul.
It was not easy.
I fought with God for about 2 hours last night about it.
The things he was calling me to share... I just wasn't ready.
It felt too hard
too soon
too much
too uncomfortable
too heavy...
I just wasn't going to do it.
Something else. ANYTHING else. I'll talk about whatever ELSE you want.
Just
Not
This
Two hours of this. Back and forth. But one thing was certain: God wanted me to share.
So I did.
I stepped out in faith that God would show up, and use my words, use my story, use my pain to work in someone else's life.
Sometimes it's hard, though, when you step out and never really know the result.
I'm not sure if my story helped another in their journey.
I guess this is the part where I trust God. More.
It's easy to trust God with our story and our past hurts and wounds when we are the only one who knows about it.
It isn't until you bear a little piece of your soul in front of 80 women that you REALLY have to trust God.
I read this tonight, and I love it-
"Nevertheless, that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever... The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine."
Tonight, I'm thankful for God's great light in my life. I'm thankful that this promise, the promise of darkness being forever vanished in the presence of light, in my life.
I got to stand before a group of women tonight and bear a little bit of my soul.
It was not easy.
I fought with God for about 2 hours last night about it.
The things he was calling me to share... I just wasn't ready.
It felt too hard
too soon
too much
too uncomfortable
too heavy...
I just wasn't going to do it.
Something else. ANYTHING else. I'll talk about whatever ELSE you want.
Just
Not
This
Two hours of this. Back and forth. But one thing was certain: God wanted me to share.
So I did.
I stepped out in faith that God would show up, and use my words, use my story, use my pain to work in someone else's life.
Sometimes it's hard, though, when you step out and never really know the result.
I'm not sure if my story helped another in their journey.
I guess this is the part where I trust God. More.
It's easy to trust God with our story and our past hurts and wounds when we are the only one who knows about it.
It isn't until you bear a little piece of your soul in front of 80 women that you REALLY have to trust God.
I read this tonight, and I love it-
"Nevertheless, that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever... The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine."
Tonight, I'm thankful for God's great light in my life. I'm thankful that this promise, the promise of darkness being forever vanished in the presence of light, in my life.
Friday, January 14, 2011
The story of the bracelet
I had this bracelet.
It was more than a bracelet.
It changed me.
It reminded me.
It helped me.
I wrote about my bracelet in another blog.
A woman gave it to me.
A woman I hardly know.
She changed me forever.
The Lord used this bracelet to speak to me
In a powerful way.
Every time I looked at the bracelet, or twirled it, or nervously took it off and slipped it back on, or ran my fingers over the delicately etched word "Loved" there in the middle, God spoke to me.
"You, my daughter, are loved."
That's all.
Over and over, God spoke those words to me.
Over and over and over again.
Now, you see, when this woman so boldly handed me this bracelet 7 months ago, she told me "You'll know when you're ready to pass it on. You're not meant to keep it. Someone gave it to me, and I knew the day would come when I was to give it away. You'll know. God will tell you."
There were days when I thought I'd NEVER be ready to give the bracelet away.
How could I?
I was still learning the words God was speaking through it.
YOU ARE LOVED.
I didn't quite believe them yet.
Sure, there were MOMENTS when I believed them. But they weren't my identity. Not yet. Maybe one day, but not yet.
So, on Wednesday, when I was hanging at Starbucks, listening to my music, reading my new Bible, journaling, and just hanging with God, He spoke to me. And I knew I was ready. He told me it was time. Those words had finally become my identity. I no longer questioned their truth, or their limits.
I am loved.
By my family
By my God
By my friends
By children
By adults
By strangers
I am loved
There's nothing that can change that. Ever. It's more than WHAT I am. It's become WHO I am. It's no longer a verb to me. It's a noun :)
So, back to Wednesday. God spoke. I listened. He told me who to give it to.
I figured it would be a stranger. Someone who I hardly knew. Since that's who gave this precious gift to me.
Nope.
God told me to give it to a dear friend. Someone I see almost everyday.
Someone who needed to be reminded
Everyday
Of her value
Of her WORTH
Of the great calling on HER life to know she is LOVED. (noun, NOT verb.)
Presented to me by a stranger. Passed along to a wonderful woman who I call a great friend. I'm excited to see how God uses this bracelet to change her life like He changed mine. I'm excited to see if it stays with her for a year, a week, 4 years... and where the bracelet goes next. I realize that God can use ANYTHING to change lives, but right now He's choosing to use a beautiful, simple, silver, delicate, bracelet with the word "Loved" perfectly carved in it.
It was more than a bracelet.
It changed me.
It reminded me.
It helped me.
I wrote about my bracelet in another blog.
A woman gave it to me.
A woman I hardly know.
She changed me forever.
The Lord used this bracelet to speak to me
In a powerful way.
Every time I looked at the bracelet, or twirled it, or nervously took it off and slipped it back on, or ran my fingers over the delicately etched word "Loved" there in the middle, God spoke to me.
"You, my daughter, are loved."
That's all.
Over and over, God spoke those words to me.
Over and over and over again.
Now, you see, when this woman so boldly handed me this bracelet 7 months ago, she told me "You'll know when you're ready to pass it on. You're not meant to keep it. Someone gave it to me, and I knew the day would come when I was to give it away. You'll know. God will tell you."
There were days when I thought I'd NEVER be ready to give the bracelet away.
How could I?
I was still learning the words God was speaking through it.
YOU ARE LOVED.
I didn't quite believe them yet.
Sure, there were MOMENTS when I believed them. But they weren't my identity. Not yet. Maybe one day, but not yet.
So, on Wednesday, when I was hanging at Starbucks, listening to my music, reading my new Bible, journaling, and just hanging with God, He spoke to me. And I knew I was ready. He told me it was time. Those words had finally become my identity. I no longer questioned their truth, or their limits.
I am loved.
By my family
By my God
By my friends
By children
By adults
By strangers
I am loved
There's nothing that can change that. Ever. It's more than WHAT I am. It's become WHO I am. It's no longer a verb to me. It's a noun :)
So, back to Wednesday. God spoke. I listened. He told me who to give it to.
I figured it would be a stranger. Someone who I hardly knew. Since that's who gave this precious gift to me.
Nope.
God told me to give it to a dear friend. Someone I see almost everyday.
Someone who needed to be reminded
Everyday
Of her value
Of her WORTH
Of the great calling on HER life to know she is LOVED. (noun, NOT verb.)
Presented to me by a stranger. Passed along to a wonderful woman who I call a great friend. I'm excited to see how God uses this bracelet to change her life like He changed mine. I'm excited to see if it stays with her for a year, a week, 4 years... and where the bracelet goes next. I realize that God can use ANYTHING to change lives, but right now He's choosing to use a beautiful, simple, silver, delicate, bracelet with the word "Loved" perfectly carved in it.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Use my story, Lord!
On Sunday, Dan spoke on how we are each a chosen instrument for specific things in life. How we each have a unique and compelling story that MAKES us that chosen instrument. Dan spoke about how God uses our stories to reach others who are in those same places... those dark, lonely, scary, painful places. So often we ask God "WHY??? WHY ME GOD? Why this pain? Why this addiction? Why this heartbreak? Why? Why? Why?" Instead, we should be asking God "When?" When do you want to use my story God? When can I help somebody else who's in the same place I've been? When can my story bring freedom to somebody else? For years I lived in the land of "Why?". 7 years to be exact. Why this struggle God? Why this addiction God? Why can't you free me from it? Why seven years of pain and loneliness and shame? For the longest time, I lived in that world... but in one instant, God brought redemption to those 7 years. In one word, God gave me FREEDOM from a 7 year battle. In that moment, I began living in the land of "When". For over a year now, I've been wondering when my story will be used to bring healing to others. In the past, God's spoken very clearly to me about waiting to share my story. There have been times I wanted so badly to share, but God's words "Not yet" reminded me to be patient. The cool thing about God is that He doesn't make you wait forever :) On Sunday I'll be sharing my testimony with the 7:00 gathering at the Stirring. My prayer is that there will be people there on Sunday night who will connect with my story... who I can encourage and remind of God's amazing timing and love for us. Use my story, Lord. Use all of my story.
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