Wishing my life away

Day 18. Wishing my life away

I catch myself doing it all the time. Sometimes I'm doing it for an entire week before I even realize it. Waiting for something, wanting something in the future, trying to plan out each little move. I miss moments, hours, days doing this.

I spent a lot of time in college waiting to graduate. Dreaming of a professional job, a husband, a house of my own. I had high hopes for my future, but because I was living for it, I so often missed the present. Sometimes the most beautiful moments of my life are lost as I plan my future instead of enjoying the moment.

I now have those things I once spent so much time dreaming of; a job, a wonderful husband, a house of my own. Yet still I spend so much of my time looking in the future. It seems as though I arrive at what was once the future and then It is no longer my focus and again I am looking to what's next and missing what is now.

I wonder how much of my life I am missing without even realizing it. How much of my moments have been lost to my thoughts of the future. Does living in the future with all its mystery make us feel in control somehow. Is that why we do it?

I think we can all agree that living in the future is a source of anxiety and pain at times. It's not all about dreaming of bliss. Living in the future can consist of living in fear of the future, what may or may not happen, how we will be able to handle the hardships. But does living in the future somehow change it's outcome? Absolutely not. I wish that were enough to stop my thoughts from wandering so far.

This soothes my future-living soul
http://utmost.org/god%E2%80%99s-purpose-or-mine/

Day 17

Day 17. Overwhelmed

I've been thinking a lot about being overwhelmed.

I spend a lot of my days overwhelmed by one thing or another. There just always seems to be something weighing on my shoulders, something pulling my down.

It's a suffocating feeling. As if I am drowning in a sea of emotions and experiences. But the more I experience this feeling in my life, as the responsibilities of being an adult pile on, the more I have come to listen to that feeling.

Usually when we are overwhelmed It feels negative. Not always, sometimes we are overwhelmed with happiness, or adventure, or by the love around us. But often when we feel overwhelmed we are feeling something that we deem negative. And even though feeling overwhelmed is burdensome and tiring and frustrating, I wonder how much it can teach us about our needs as humans.

When I am overwhelmed by something I usually find that it is because I have ultimately lost sight of who is really in control over my life, or I am trying to do too much, or I'm not allowing myself to feel what I need to feel. Basically that I am disconnected to my King and myself.

This is not to say that feeling overwhelmed doesn't suck or that we can just make different choices or change our thinking and it all goes away. Or that it is reflection of our faith or any of that nonsense. Sometimes we just cannot get out of there no matter how hard we try. So then what?

We stop fighting it, and just dive straight into it. That's right. We accept that we are overwhelmed by X,Y,Z (or the whole alphabets worth of things sometimes) and  allow ourselves to feel that and be okay with it.

Sometimes we can learn so much about ourselves in the midst of this messiness. I have found that when I am overwhelmed I start to attack myself for the very things that I am most self-conscious about. The things I tell myself so subconsciously that I don't even realize it.

Everything we go through can teach us something. Sometimes it seems to have no other purpose than that. And that's okay. Life is a journey, a constant process. We are always learning, and feeling, and crawling through the dark parts. It's okay to be overwhelmed, it's okay to feel like everything is falling apart, even if we think we're being irrational.

Respect your feelings, dive into them, learn from them. Give yourself permission to be whoever you need to be in each moment. Sometimes I literally have to give myself verbal permission to be exhausted, or lonely, or angry, especially when I feel like I have no right to be any of those things.

We need to offer ourselves grace, and the space to grow.


Psalm 61:2, From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

Psalm 121:1-2, I life up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.

Psalm 142:3, When I am overwhelmed, you alone know the way I should turn.

Isaiah 40:28, Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable.

Day 16.

Day 16. Life's true joy.

Joy is such an interesting word.

Webster defines it as a feeling of great pleasure and happiness. 

I found these verse in the Bible on joy:

-James 1:2-3-

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 

 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.

-Hebrew 12:2-

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame,and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

-John 15:11-

These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may remain in you, and that your joy may be full. 

This is what Oswald Chambers has to say about joy: http://utmost.org/my-joy-your-joy/

In the first paragraph, of the devotional, Oswald lays it out for us. Joy isn't about happiness, it's so much more than that. I have found that often in my life joy accompanies an experience of intense suffering or pain.

Only Jesus can bring us true Joy. Not our own feelings, or our situations. I would happily trade a life of happiness for a life of Joy, knowing that it comes straight from the Savior and is not my own.

Can we allow joy to seep even into our unhappiest of moments? Dare we allow it to fill us when we are crushed by the world around us? Is it enough that we have Him on our side? Is it enough that in all things He is with us?

Sometimes it's not. 

In my darkest moments I cannot say that I always allow His joy to flow through me. Usually I slam the door in His face and turn to the world for answers. He is not usually my first choice. But when I do turn to Him, I always wonder why I hadn't done that in the first place. 

His love and peace and joy covers me like a warm blanket, speaking comfort over me in a way that no man, alcohol, drugs, TV, or Facebook ever could.

Do I dare allow myself the pure joy of knowing Him? Do I dare give up my own life every moment in exchange for what He has to offer. Or would I rather create my own shallow happiness and miss out?

Friends, I ask myself, and you...Why do we fight Him? Why do we try and run our lives like we even know what we're doing? Why must we hold on to our controlled comforts so tightly that we can't let go to grab his joy, peace, grace?

We must let go of ourselves. That is the only way to stand in the presence of Christ.

-Luke 9:23-

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.

-Galations 2:20-

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

-Mark 8:35-

For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it.

Day 15.

Day 15. Loving your life when you wish you were living someone else's.

Sometimes life is less than what we hoped for. We hate our job, our marriage is crumbling, we're single, we're sick, we're lonely, we're depressed. We see other people's lives on social media and at church and what they have seems so perfect. It's so easy to wish for their lives over our own.

“The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel” ~Steve Furtick~

This could not be more true.

Do you ever wish for someone else's life? Their perfect marriage? Their health? Their beautiful house in the country? Their perfect bikini bod?

I have.

There will always be times in our life where all we can see is our mess, and those are the times where it's most important to love our lives.

It can be so very dangerous to live in desire of what someone else has, and it can be so hard not to do so. I've found that once I get caught in that pattern of thinking, it's hard to come out of it.

So then how do you love your own life when someone else's seems so much better? How do you attend a wedding when you are in the midst of divorce? How do you pray for your friend's bout with the flu when you are dying. How do you go shopping with your best friend when she is 5 sizes smaller than you? How do you love your apartment when everyone else seems to have a beautiful house?

Do you believe that what you have is God's best for you? Do you believe in His perfect plan? Is it possible that regardless of what you think your life should look like, He has known all along what it would be?

My friend Joanna is battling cancer and all the emotional and physical pain that comes with it. She is a beautiful warrior who teaches me things every day. We've talked often about God's plan, how He has put everything in to place for Joanna and her family before her diagnosis. How He knew all along that this was her path and has been preparing her for this her entire life.

What an amazing God that is. Who hand picks everything in our lives to work together for His good. And sometimes that means that we have cancer, or we live in a teeny apartment, or we are a size 10. Can we trust Him in the path he has handpicked for us?

This isn't to say that life isn't hard, that we don't struggle with our journeys, that they aren't incredibly difficult at times. No on would argue that life is hard. But God is in control, of every little thing.

Having struggled with anxiety for most of my life, I become angry at times that it crushes me sometimes. I've often asked God what His deal is, plaguing me with this. If you've ever struggled with anxiety you know what I'm talking about. But as I've gotten older, I've realized that my anxiety is God's way of protecting me from a life without Him. If I didn't struggle with something that is so out of my control I don't think I would seek the love and peace of my Savior so desperately.

So my friends, trust in God's plan for your life. It may not be easy, it may be excruciating, but know that His perfect plan is unfolding in every little part of your life.

Day 14

Day 14. Out of the Woods.

I never knew how privileged I was until the privileges I'd grown accustomed to had been taken away.

When it was time for bed, camp leader Pocahontas came to get me from my corner of the campsite. She told me to grab my sleeping bag and follow her. She took me to the leaders camp area and told me to take off my boots and tie the laces together. I had no energy left to question her. She threw the boots on a pile with the rest of the girls' footwear and unrolled my sleeping bag next to what I guessed was her own. I got inside, trying hard to create an ailment that would get me out of the woods. I thought maybe some kind of intense headache might do the trick.

I started out slowly, complaining of head pain. Pocahontas didn't seemed concerned, but wrapped me burrito style in a tarp leaving an edge on either side of me. She got into a sleeping bag on one side and another leader, the skinniest man I've ever seen, got into a sleeping bag on the other side. I was trapped. WHAT KIND OF PLACE WAS THIS?

I screamed into the night, moaning and groaning in agony, complaining of a massive headache. But they didn't take my bait. I was shocked. I started to realize that these people meant business. There was no way out, I would have to just suck it up and deal until they let me go home.

As the days went on I settled in a little bit. We hiked every day all day, the 60 pound pack I was carrying on my 110 pound frame left my body aching and my hips bruised and swollen. Our bathroom was a hole we dug with a tiny spade called a U-Dig-It. If we couldn't make a fire as a group, we ate our dinners cold. When we made fires we did it with something called a bow drill. It looks like this:

Every week we would get a new rotation of camp leaders. So every other week we would get the same ones we had 2 weeks prior. Our second rotation consisted of a sweet southern belle named Megan, who I liked instantly. Then there was another girl with flaming read hair and a matching fiery personality. Lastly there was a middle-aged hiking expert who pushed me farther than I ever thought I could go. He would sometimes wake us in the middle of the night to hike, taking us miles farther than any other leader.

One afternoon after we reached camp, one of my campmates and I went a ways from the camp to dig the latrine (poop hole). The ground was rocky and half-frozen with clay underneath. About a half an hour in, Megan came over to us with her guitar and offered to play for us as we worked. She strummed a few notes before I realized what the song was. It was the song Return to Pooh Corner by Kenny Loggins. The same song my dad had sang to me since I was a little girl, strumming on his guitar in the living room. In that moment, somehow, I knew everything would be okay. Little did I know then that this song would be my father daughter dance song 7 years later.

Sleeping in a tent, by yourself, with no shoes and wooded darkness between you and the next person teaches you a lot about real fear. I am still in awe of the fact that I ever slept in my time in the wilderness, but i did, quite soundly. I guess all that hiking wears you out. But I also found myself praying often in my tent, snuggling deep into my sleeping bag and crying out to my savior for peace and hope. He made me brave, I am sure of this.

 Lord I come, I confess Bowing here I find my rest Without You I fall apart You're the one that guides my heart Chorus: Lord, I need You, oh I need You Every hour I need You My one defense, my righteousness Oh God, how I need You

  Where sin runs deep, Your grace is more Where grace is found is where You are And where You are Lord I am free Holiness is Christ in me Yes where You are Lord I am free Holiness is Christ in me 

 So teach my song to rise to You When temptation comes my way And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You Jesus You're my hope and stay And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You Jesus You're my hope and stay

                                                             -Chris Tomlin "Lord I Need You"-

One night in particular I was seriously ill. Like coming out both ends, fetal position, no sleep all night sick. I had never been sick away from home before and was still in my "deathly afraid of throwing up phase". As I lay in my tent, all alone, no distractions, lyrics from an old song came to me without warning.

When I am afraid, I will trust in You, I will trust in You, I will trust in You. When I am afraid I will trust in You, in God who's word I pray. In God I trust, when I am afraid. In God I trust, in God who's word I pray.

It's a song from an old kids tape we used to listen to constantly. I can't even remember the name now, but it was such a life changing moment for me. I knew that God was speaking to me in a very personal way and that He was with me and I was not alone.

As the weeks went by, I started to notice a pattern with the other girls. None of them were going home. As they left, one by one, they all were headed to boarding schools. I listened to them talk about which schools they were going to and whether they were the "good" ones or the "bad" ones. I never dreamed that would be my future as well.

Eventually I got a letter from my parents telling me that I would not be coming home either, but going to boarding school in Arizona to continue treatment. But by that time the Holy Spirit had surrounded me in such a way that all I could do was praise God for a family that would do anything to see me get well. I knew that God had brought me this far and would see me through whatever was next.

And that my friends is only part of my story, the rest I will save for my future book! Thank you for embarking on this journey with me of sharing my story. What good is the pain we endure, and the mistakes we make if we don't use them to point others to Jesus?

All my love,

Lizz

Day 13.

Day 13. Into the Woods.

This weekend Eric and I traveled to a place in the mountains with no cell phone service. I kept thinking about Cold Case files and Law and Order as we went farther up the mountain. With no cell phone service you could easily be stranded on the mountanside, or worse. "You are the girl who survived 2 months in the woods" I told myself, "Where did she go?"

I remember it like it was yesterday. I bolted off the plane right before the doors shut, heard my dad sprinting behind me with our bags. I knew I had just made things harder for myself, but I had to try to get out of it or I'd never forgive myself.

Just days earlier my mom had broken down and told me they were sending me to a wilderness camp to get help. I immediately googled this camp, scouting it out, forming my own opinions. I knew I didn't want to go there, but I didn't want to disappoint my parents, so I tried really hard to accept their decision. That is until I stepped onto the plane to Atlanta Georgia with my dad. It all the sudden hit me that I was digging my own grave, and I just ran.

Once back in the airport my dad called a bunch of people on the phone, no doubt asking for advice on what to do with his out-of-control daughter. I was angry at him and at myself, so I told him that I would only go home with my mom. She arrived at the airport an hour later, she looked tired and sad, and I immediately felt the burden of guilt settle onto my shoulders.

When we neared our street, I became panicked that there would be someone waiting at our house to take me away. I leaned over in my seat and grabbed the steering wheel at the last moment spinning us into oncoming traffic. I could have killed us both.

Back at home I was inconsolable. I knew my parents had hired escorts to take me to this wilderness camp. These escorts are specifically for out-of-control children, to transport them to get help when parents can't. I knew they were coming, and even though I had ultimately chosen that, I was terrified.

I remember my mom holding me in her lap like a baby, singing to me and speaking to me in soft tones. "you know I love you so much", she would say to me. I knew she did, but I was so scared I couldn't calm myself down. As the day faded to evening, the pain of the unknown grew overwhelming. I remember banging my head on the bathroom mirror over and over, anything to numb my pain. I saw my sister watching me from her bedroom, her sweet eyes so scared and confused. I wanted to tell her that I couldn't help it, that everything was spinning out of control, but I didn't.

When they finally came, I was sitting up in my bed waiting. There was a manly looking woman and a man with a beard. They seemed nice enough. She strip searched me before putting me in the car. I was too angry to say anything to me parents, we just drove away, tears falling down my cheeks. This was it.

At the airport I was obedient and polite. They even left me alone while they went to the bathroom. I prided myself on being better than their other "clients". I slept on the plane and when I woke up,  we were there.

It was a hot and sticky April day in Georgia. We rented a car from the airport and drove for a long time into what I would soon know to be the Blue Ridge Mountains. When we pulled up to an old ranch style house, I somehow knew we had arrived. I got out, hesitant to leave the escorts as they had come to feel somewhat safe to me. They waved goodbye and were gone.

An older mountain looking gentleman led me into a small room where a woman was waiting with my new gear. There was a pair of hiking boots, 3 yellow t-shirts that were way too big, a few pairs of underwear, 2 sports bras, and a pair of pants that unzipped to shorts. In the corner was a huge pack which held my food for the next 2 weeks, 2 filled water bottles, a sleeping bag, 2 small tarps, a pad of paper, a pen, and a thin foam mat to put under my sleeping bag.

I was strip searched again before i dressed in my new clothes. I was then led into a van with the same wilderness gentleman who I had met before. He took me to a fast food place and urged me to eat, but I wasn't even a little hungry. I would soon regret that I had turned down that meal. But for the moment, I was tired, scared, and desperately lonely.

As we drove farther up the mountain my panic thickened, and when at last we got out of the van and began to hike, I was sobbing violently again, tripping over roots and rocks as the tears clouded my eye sight.

We reached the camp site where 10 other girls were making camp for the night. When they saw me they immediately made fun of my tears and puffy eyes, calling me all sorts of horrible names. I ignored them as a camp leader who looked like Pocahontas led me to my area of camp. "You can't talk to anyone for 3 days", she told me, "It's part of your initiation".

Someone brought me dinner, but I threw it into the bushes in disgust. It felt like the end of the world, but I had no idea yet what I had gotten myself into.

to be continued....

this picture is from the end of wilderness (2 months later), my parents got to camp with me for a night.

Day 12.

Day 12. Now what.

After writing my blog yesterday I had this feeling that It was incomplete, like some big part was missing.

It's impossible to give steps on how to give God complete control over your life. I personally do not believe that saying a prayer at one time does this. I think it is done over and over again in the most vulnerable of ways. I usually feel closest to God when I'm at my messiest. There's a peace, like somehow I had been trying to pick up all the pieces and finally I admitted that I couldn't put them back together. Of course, I am very stubborn and so where I find God may be very different from where you find Him. But I do know this: He shows up. Your situation may not change at all, but He will show up.

There are also times in my life where I feel I've crossed the line into complete and utter human wretchedness, and for a little while I don't feel like God shows up. And that's okay too, because He'll show up regardless and it's all a part of our process.

I believe in a journey far more beautiful than we could ever imagine. A journey where our steps have been mapped out for us so carefully, so tenderly. I believe that "all things work together for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28)", and maybe even for those who don't love Him. I believe that the only way to fully taste the majesty of our King is to dive deep into the pain of this world.

Do you want to know the key to surrendering all to Jesus Christ? The key to feeling His peace and love like a blanket around you?

It's this simple: just let go.

LET GO.

LET GO!

Let go of the diagnoses, the breakup, the marriage, the financial issues, the daily stresses that create a mountain too great to climb.

Let go of all of it. Because once you let go, it falls right into the hands of the Savior. And His hands are much stronger than your own.

A few years ago I read a book called "The Happiness Project". It was a good read, lots of helpful tips on how to grasp happiness. But oh how lacking. Because, you see, happiness is not grasping anything, but letting go of everything.

Right now I feel a heaviness in my chest as all of the things that I have chosen not to let go of are bubbling up inside of me. Some of these things are things that I have to "let go of"  every day, every hour, every moment. Some I've been "letting go of" since I was a little girl. Some days I choose not to let go, out of stubbornness, or a need for control...I'm not really sure, but sometimes I do make that choice.  And those days usually suck. But regardless, It is all a part of this journey that God has chosen for me. And I am grateful for every moment.

-Jeremiah 29:11-
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Day 11.

Day 11. When it's more than we can handle.

We've all heard that sweet saying, "God never gives you more than you can handle". But I have come to wonder about this. It sounds so nice and safe by worldly standards, but is that the God we serve?

Sometimes, I have found, it is more than we can "handle". Can anyone really "handle" a terminal diagnosis? Or the news that their child is dead? Or the pain of abuse? Or even the day to day struggles that we all face? Can we really "handle" anything?

We are given more than we can handle all the time. So what happens then? What happens when you are given more than you can "handle"? What happens when your life seems to be crumbling all around you and people keep telling you that you can handle it because "God doesn't give us more than we can handle". What then?

That is where the beauty of our relationship with Christ comes into play.

I want you to take a moment to navigate from this page and read a blog post written by an incredibly faithful woman who is dying of cancer.
http://www.mundanefaithfulness.com/home/2015/2/10/if-i-tried

I read this this morning and immediately my wheels began to turn. I realized as I read, that this journey Kara is on is WAY more than she can handle. But thankfully we are not called to handle the pain that life has in store, we are only called to trust in our savior's goodness and let him take the wheel.

I don't want to believe that I am never given more than I can handle. That is meaningless to me. I want to be given more than I can handle constantly so that I am always in need of Christ in the deepest way possible. I don't ever want to fool myself into believing that I can "handle" it without Him.

-Psalm 23:4-
"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

Day 10

Day 10. Purpose

I blog a lot about finding my purpose in life. Probably because I am always looking for that "thing" I was made for.  Always looking for something that will catch me when I feel like my life is dull, and meaningless. A safety net to tell me that I have worth when I don't feel like I do. Because let's be honest, all of us have those moments.

Nothing brings into question your purpose, like spending all of your time with kids. I was first really challenged by my own desire for "purpose" when I started teaching preschool a few years ago. From the outside everyone can agree that guiding young minds is of the utmost importance, but from the inside you're being puked on and spending hours upon hours trying to get your class to form a line even for a moment. I am sure that many moms feel this way too, like theirs day are at times a monotony, a series of great moments and discouraging moments. Where then is the purpose in that?

Once my idea of "purpose" was in question, I was able to really explore the possibility. What if my purpose isn't a life encompassing mission, but always changing, morphing to fit each moment. Is God big enough to give us that gift? Can we trust that in every moment we have purpose?

I have begun to believe that such a thing is true.

In my every moment, in my waking and sleeping, in my joy and my pain. There is purpose. He is big enough to accomplish all things through our every moments.

So my new purpose is to live life and trust that what He wants to accomplish in me, He will.

Psalm 138:8
"The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands."

Day 9

When I first decided to do a challenge a day for 3 months, my hope was to get into the habit of writing every day while at the same time trying new things. 9 days in I've realized a few things.

For one thing, I am not the kind of person who can write about things that aren't largely significant to me. Somehow writing about a new recipe I've tried just doesn't seem like me. 

Secondly, just taking the time to write every day is a challenge in itself. Do you know how many excuses you can come up with the avoid things? It's unbelievable. I'll sit down at my computer, notice the dog hair all over the living room floor and the next thing you know I'm vacuuming. It's really crazy how that seems to happen...

So, in the moments where I can think of nothing to write about and I just want to throw in the towel on this whole thing, I will push through and write anyway. Even if it's a post like this one where I say a whole bunch of nothing at all. Because sometimes we all have to do things that we are too "tired" to do.

Sometimes when the little things in life seem too overwhelming, I think about my blessings instead. Like when I don't "want" to go for a run I think instead about the gift of strong legs to carry me for miles. Or when I don't want to write I thank God for my ability to use words to paint a picture. Or when I don't want to get out of bed in the morning I thank God that I woke up and get to live the day.

I don't always do this, but I've been challenging myself recently to be thankful as opposed to being so inconvenienced by all the blessings in my life. 

Phillipians 2:14-18

"Do everything without complaining and arguing, so that no one can criticize you. Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people. Hold firmly to the word of life; then, on the day of Christ’s return, I will be proud that I did not run the race in vain and that my work was not useless. But I will rejoice even if I lose my life, pouring it out like a liquid offering to God, just like your faithful service is an offering to God. And I want all of you to share that joy. Yes, you should rejoice, and I will share your joy."

Day 8

Day 8. Into the woods.

Something about this time of year always reminds me of those months in the spring of '07. Maybe it's the smell of smoke rising from chimneys in the houses around ours. Or the the numbness of my fingers and toes in the cold winter snow. Or maybe it's the fact that I am currently reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed.

For those of you who have never heard of this book, it's about a young woman who spent a summer hiking the PCT (a trail on the west coast), healing from deep pain, and pushing herself farther than she ever thought she could go.

I have a tendency to read books like this and develop a deep desire to follow in the author's footsteps, to be an adventurer just like them. Last night as I read further into Wild (no spoilers, I'm still not finished), I felt that desire rise up in my chest. But that's where it stopped, because, you see, in many ways I have done what she did.

There used to be a show on MTV (I think) called brat camp. Messed up teens went to live in the woods for a few months to shape up instead of doing hard time. I remember seeing commercials for it on TV and wondering how anyone could do something like that, live like an animal in the middle of the woods.

Not long after, I did that. In the spring of 2007 when I was 16 years old I flew to Georgia (against my will) to go to a wilderness camp there for a few months. I wasn't going in place of Juvi, I was going in place of dying. At this point in my life everything was upside down. I wasn't eating, and spent my days skipping school, staying up all night watching crappy TV and drinking wine out of the box in our fridge. I wasn't a bad kid, but I was a mess.

When I got to the camp, I was more terrified than I ever had been before. I was wearing cargo pants granny panties, hiking boots, wool socks, a cotton sports bra, and an ugly yellow T-shirt they had given me in exchange for my own belongings. I sat on my sleeping mat by the edge of the campsite, and cried for days.

As days went by, I started to eat, and laugh, and enjoy the world around me. But it was never easy. Some mornings I would wake up with snow covering my sleeping bag. When it was too wet to make a fire, I ate cold beans out of my pack. I've never learned so much about myself, about what I'm capable of enduring.

And Jesus spoke to me in my tent. He came to me in my brokenness. He didn't bring me out of the woods, like I kept praying that we would, but he walked with me through it.

-Psalm 91:10-
For you have made the LORD, my refuge, Even the Most High, your dwelling place. No evil will befall you, Nor will any plague come near your tent. For He will give His angels charge concerning you, To guard you in all your ways.…

Day 7.

Day 7. running straight into ordinary.

Today was supposed to be a day of adventure and new experiences. But it didn't exactly turn out how I'd planned. So after abandoning an icy hike, Eric dropped me off on the side of the road a few miles from our house, so I could get a nice run in.

I love to run. As soon as my feet leave the pavement everything fades into the background. It's like a bath for my soul. Many of my favorite memories are the times I spent with myself and a pair of sneakers on an open road. My feet hitting the pavement in a controlled rhythm; everything at my command. There's no other place in life where I have that freedom, that solitude, that excitement.

There's always something to be seen that fills me with awe and gratitude. Today as a I ran I kept looking down into the frozen river, mesmerized by the glittering lid of ice covering the top. It's not like I've never seen ice before. Or even a frozen river. I have many times. But for some reason, today, in that space, I was mesmerized.

I love those moments when the simple pieces of life make you catch your breath. When something you have seem so many times before suddenly has new meaning and new beauty. Beauty out of the ordinary; there is something so Christ-like about that. He gives meaning to the things we find to be dull, redundant, things we think we've seen, things we think we know.

How many secrets are hidden in our every day lives. How much beauty surrounds us that we are too blind to see. Just how much of this beautiful creation are we seeing? Can we find the ice on a run?

When I choose to see the beauty in the ordinary, I feel like I am sitting in the hands of Christ. I don't want to wait for what I deem interesting to excite me. I want to run straight into ordinary and find the jewel waiting for me there.

-Psalm 19:1-6-
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.

Day 6.

Day 6. Waves.

Life often reminds me of the ocean waves. One moment you're floating in the salty coolness of calm waters and the next minute you're holding your breath as a wave crashes over your head, or worse, tumbles you into the sand below.

I've always been very sensitive to other peoples emotions, at times it has felt like too much. Like if only I could just focus on myself and block everything around me out then It would be good. But oh how boring my life would be.

My journey of carrying others emotions began, I believe, in the womb. I think I came out knowing deep inside my little self that people were hurting and I couldn't stand it. Over the years the burden became greater and greater,  my knowledge of things too  overwhelming for a little girl. I resented this "thing" that I had. My dad used to tell me that It was my gift and my curse.

When you carry the burdens of others while ignoring your own needs it doesn't take long until you collapse in physical and emotional exhaustion. By age 8 I had collapsed straight into an anxiety and eating disorder that would carry through to my college years. I still believed I was strong enough to fix everyones lives, even as mine fell apart.

I wonder sometimes about suffering. I used to roll my eyes when people would tell me that "God's path was greater than my own". It seemed ridiculous, preposterous. Whose perfect plan includes a 15 year eating disorder among other things? It made no sense.

I look around me and I see people suffering in every direction. Some bear pain I will never understand. Some bear pain that seems minor to me, but rocks them to their core. Suffering, is a part of life. Suffering, is a part of who we are in Christ.

-2 Corinthians 4:8-12-
"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you."


-Romans 5:3-5-
"Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."

And my favorite, Romans 8:

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. 19For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. 20For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21that^h the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

22We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. 24For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? 25But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

26In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. 27And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

28And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, whoⁱ have been called according to his purpose. 29For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. 30And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

31What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?32He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36As it is written:

“For your sake we face death all day long;

we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”^j

37No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,^k neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

There is really no way to say it better. Suffering is such a gift to those in love with Jesus Christ. Suffering is our connection, our gateway, to being more like Jesus. Through suffering God is giving us our life. Without suffering we are an empty shell, less than who we have been created to be. We are missing out. 

To just taste of what Jesus is, I would endure any trial. And in many ways at 24, I have endured many. But there's a difference now. All trials I face in the future, will have perspective. While I may be screaming and kicking and fighting it in every way I know how, I will be looking straight into the face of Jesus, drinking in his peace and goodness in a way I would never have known without great suffering.

And so I urge you sweet friends, to face all trials looking straight into the face of Jesus. Suffering is a gift if we take it and give it back to Him. It's not easy, It's not "safe", It's not "normal", but it is oh so sweet.

Day 5

Day 5. I pin for a reason.

It's recently been brought to my attention that I have a tendency to pin things on Pinterest and then never look at them again. This is in fact true. Seeing as the whole point of Pinterest is to go back and use what was pinned in real life, I have decided to do just that.

Today I went into my "running" board on Pinterest and found myself an  interval workout to try at the gym. I picked this one because the background is yellow and cheery and stuff.

Let me tell you, I hated almost every minute of this workout...

It might have been that I ate one too many cookies today, but regardless, I struggled. In general, I find it easier to run faster speeds when running at higher inclines rather than slower ones so I especially struggled with all the intervals at speed 4.0 and 4.5

However, I did feel awesome after I was done, even though I am currently hobbling around the house in pain.

The best thing about interval training like this is that even when it's hard you can always tell yourself "just one more minute". So instead of running for 3 miles at the same pace, staring at the clock, you're having fun changing the pace and incline. It keeps you so busy that the time flies by!

I should do this more often (minus the cookies).

Give it a shot and tell me your thoughts!

Day 4.

Day 4. Into the Kitchen.

I love to cook and bake. I'm too lazy to do it on a regular basis, but I do love it. One of my favorite things about it is deviating from the recipe. I love looking at a list of ingredients and changing them or adding my own or exchanging something for something else. Rarely do I completely follow a recipe.

Today I decided to come up with an oatmeal, muffin, cookie hybrid that would satisfy any sweet tooth without getting out of hand.

They look good, don't they?

They're very easy to make and healthy! Win win!

You will need:
3 mashed bananas (the riper the better)
2 eggs
1tbsp. baking powder
3 cups old fashioned rolled oats
1 tsp. vanilla extract
3 tbsp. cinnamon chips (you can also use raisins or regular chocolate chips)

To start: preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Mix everything but the cinnamon chips together in a bowl (I used my hand mixer). Then add the chips in.

Spray your muffin tin with nonstick cooking spray or you can use cupcake liners (use good ones though, mine were crappy and stuck to my muffins). scoop in the batter.

Let them back in the oven for about 20 minutes.

Viola! You have a healthy breakfast, or snack.

For those of you who have never used cinnamon chips, you have missed out! They are just like chocolate chips except they are cinnamon flavored. You can find them in your baking aisle right next the the chocolate chips. I use them in almost everything!

Day 3

Day 3. The best kind of challenge.

Today I am blogging about my absolute favorite challenge of these entire three months. It’s a challenge that is nothing short of a gift, one I am humbled to have received and one that I hope to live up to.

In August of 2014, my friend Joanna was diagnosed with melanoma, underwent surgery, and is currently walking through treatment. She is such an amazing woman, no blog post can describe her to you as I see her. Joanna and her husband have 4 adorable children, full of energy and life. And I currently get to spend most of my time with them.

Joanna is the kind of mom I want to be. The kind of in-love-with-Jesus, real, beautiful, strong, supportive, loving, kind woman that I can’t help but look up to. What a gift to know her and to spend time with her, to watch her kids grow every day, and to walk beside this family that I love so much.

I’ve been learning so much the past few weeks about taking care of a family, what that really looks like. For instance, going to the grocery store is not a leisurely trip. Shopping includes bundling up the kids, packing them into the car, enduring the drive to the store, getting them out of the car, putting them in the shopping cart, saying “no” to a variety of food items that somehow ended up in the cart, getting through the checkout line without drawing attention to yourselves, putting groceries in the car, putting the kids in car, driving home, and finally unloading the kids and groceries from the car. My normal shopping trip goes something like this: climb into the car, drive to the store listening to calming music, get to the store and get what's on my list, go through the checkout line like a pro, load up the car with groceries, go home. Less steps, but honestly way less fun.

Today I walked into preschool with three kids, two of them still in their PJ’s (luckily just the two who weren’t going to preschool). I think that I actually felt embarrassed for a second, like all the other moms were judging me, “9:00 and she didn’t even get the kids dressed yet? She’s obviously unqualified to care for another human being”. But after a moment or two I made a decision: I refuse to be one of those moms who projects her perfectionism on her kids. So now I’m working on it.

My sweet Ella (4) gave me another lesson in letting going of perfection this afternoon…

She painted my nails.

At first, with every stroke of the brush, every glob of nail polish that landed on my skin, I think I cringed a little bit. She worked so hard, wiping off  (smearing) the nail polish that ended up "out of the lines", and making sure she covered every inch in sparkles.

As she worked, I began to scold myself for caring about nail polish on my skin. When I watched her cute little fingers holding the brush, and her determined face as she opened a new bottle of polish, I couldn’t help but relax into my mish-mosh manicure. Of course I’ll probably take it off tonight when the OCD kicks in and just can’t help myself, but for now I am content in the imperfection that this taste of motherhood has brought me.

Day 2

Day 2. Not saying No.

I have found that when working with preschoolers, the word "no" comes out of your mouth a lot. Okay, it comes out of my mouth a lot. Usually it comes flying out in a moment of fear or chaos, without even passing through my brain for analysis. Today was an 11 hour workday for me, so I knew that I would need to challenge myself in the environment I would be in all day. And for me, today, that was teaching a group of adorably energetic preschoolers that seem to get into everything.

As I was driving to work today I was feeling really confident in my ability not to use "no" all day. I rehearsed various phrases to use instead, reciting them over and over, I was ready for anything. For the first hour or so everything was going smoothly (there was a 2 hour delays for most school districts in the area so I only had 1 kiddo for a while). By the time 9 o'clock rolled around, however, I had dropped the "n-bomb" over ten times.

Don't get me wrong. I consider myself a decently patient person. I'm not running around all day screaming "no" at everyone. However,  I spend my days hanging out with 10 three-year olds (who I love dearly). And those of you who have three year-olds, know what they are capable of. Somehow, no matter how hard I try to swallow the word "no", it explodes out of my mouth in dire situations, which are plenty in my classroom.

Whether someone is eating something un-edible, or wrestling someone else to the ground, or climbing some piece of furniture; "no" seems to be the fastest and most effective way to convey the danger of the action. Somehow the phrase, "sweet pea that shelf is about to fall over on top of you please get down" doesn't seem to get the point across that something needs to happen fast. But today I decided to try.

Sometimes my three yr-olds are way smarter than me. Okay, usually they are. I began to realize that I was in trouble today when a small brawl broke out over the play dough. I calmly told those involved that we needed to share, someone was going to get hurt and all that good teacher stuff. I'm pretty sure that no one even heard what I said. As soon as I said "Absolutely not, friends, play dough goes away if you can't share", I am visible again. Granted that wasn't the word "no", but it was the same idea.

So I learned something valuable today. First off, just because one challenge may seem easier than another doesn't necessarily mean that it is. Sometimes the ordinary things in life are the hardest ones to change. And secondly, three year-olds need to be told "no" sometimes, and that's all there is to it. As a teacher it is my job to teach them gently, but firmly, and always with love.

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. 
Proverbs 22:6