Unoffended Love

There is a lot that needs done around me, but my heart is burning to write. And so letting the mess stay this morning and sitting down to type is what makes me feel alive on the inside. (there are two really beautiful songs linked at the bottom of this post if you want to scroll down and play them while you read)

"Unoffended Love" are the words that are on my mind. They are the words that are in the forefront of my mind most every day now. They are the words I chose for this year, and what Jesus has been revealing to me, the layers He has been peeling back from my eyes and my heart because of these words are changing me more than anything ever has. I have spent the past year in grief and pain and betrayal and hurts and wounds I will likely never fully wrap my mind around for the rest of my life, even though I will try with all my might. And as most messy things in life do, these circumstances involve relationships at the heart of it all. At times these circumstances that are completely outside my control have paralyzed me. At times I've felt angry. At times it has all felt so overwhelmingly "unfair" I wanted to scream (and sometimes did). At times I've felt like I've been on an unstoppable rollercoaster ride that has whiplashed every emotional fiber of my being and caused me to question the core of what I believe about what love is. Navigating the line between unconditionally loving someone when that person continues to hurt you over and over and over and over is a very fine one, one that can't be walked without feeling like you are on a tight rope. But staying on that tight rope is the only safe place to be. If the emotional pendulum swings to one side where you "unconditionally love" someone who only wants to harm and manipulate you without any thought or concern for your own safety or emotional needs, you will fall to a deep, dark place. But if you swing to the other side, where in order to protect your heart and safety you cut off love altogether and close yourself off from all emotion, you will fall into a different, yet equally deep and dark place.

All of what I'm learning goes so deep in me but is hard to put into words. Especially in an order that makes sense. But I will try my best. I've heard so many times that you can't love others unless you love yourself, and I never really quite connected the dots of the Why behind this principle.

I want to preface this with so many things... But I'll start with this. The principles I am about to share are ones that you can apply to normal relationships. By normal I mean ones that are not emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually or sexually abusive. I am talking about offenses and problems that happen in relationships with non-psychopathic people. Maybe that is a disclaimer that doesn't need to be made, but if you know my story, you understand why I feel I have to make that clear.

Ok, here we go. I have found that the point at which offense takes root is the point at which it becomes difficult for me to continue to love someone. This is what led me to start asking myself questions. Why does offense take root in the first place? What does it usually stem from? What are the things that most easily offend me?

We might have different answers to these questions, but I have a suspicion that for many of us the answer is the same: We get offended when someone does not love us in the way we want or expect them to. We get offended from unment expectations.
You wanted him to get you a card for Valentines Day and he didn't. Offense/Hurt takes root. It becomes difficult to love. You wanted your friend to be on time for your girls day. She was late. It made you feel like you weren't important or your time didn't matter. Offense takes root. It becomes difficult to love. You told them something very vulnerable about yourself and asked them to keep it private. They said they would. They did not. You feel betrayed/offended. It becomes difficult to love. You thought they'd remember your birthday. They forgot. Offense. Difficulty loving. They said they'd always be there for you. You are hurting, and they're nowhere to be found. Offense. Difficulty loving them. You made plans to go out to dinner. They double scheduled and forgot about you. You feel embarrassed and unimportant. Offense. Difficulty loving. You had expectations for a romantic date night. He spent most of the time watching/talking sports. You feel let down, unfulfilled, unconnected with. Offense. Difficulty loving. (These are all based on random, made up but familiar scenarios)

It's the same cycle over and over. We have expectations on people we care about. When they don't meet those expectations and we feel unloved, we become offended and breakdown in the relationship begins. Our offense can eventually turn into cutting off our love and hearts from those who have offended us. Often, people that mean the most to us.

This is the point at which I began to have a major revelation: If I can't keep loving someone through unmet expectations, then my love is conditional. If I can't keep loving an imperfect person in the midst of their imperfections, it means my means my love is limited by their flaws. It means I depend on others loving me well in order to feel ok, and if they don't, my self-worth begins to spiral. It means, in effect, that I have absolutely no control over my love, and that it is entirely determined by the actions of others.

Of course, we all like to feel in control. And so if we feel entirely out of control of whether we feel loved or not, and in turn, whether we feel capable to give love or not, then we search for something we can be in control of. That is the point at which offense becomes our weapon of choice, our way to stay in control. If I get offended by her not showing up to our coffee date on time, and in turn vow not to waste my time offering to meet with her again, I now feel in control. Now I make the rules. I will not be hurt again. I will not be stood up again. But the only way to shut down and hold on to offense that way is to dial down our love. So we feel powerful, but lonely. In control, but unconnected.

This is also the point at which unhealthy "boundaries" develope. There is absolutely such a thing as healthy boundaries, but what determines the difference is the intention or motivation behind creating them. Unhealthy boundaries are rooted in offense, in vowing to take back power. They are not rooted in love. I'll explain healthy boundaries in a minute. (But as you can guess, they are rooted in love.)

This cycle, to be quite honest, sucks. And it is such a familiar one. It is the natural human way of feeling in control in an uncontrollable world. The life changing, heart transforming, mind altering part of this whole journey came when Jesus began to show me how to break this cycle and climb out of this pit. It has brought me freedom like I cannot describe, freedom like I've never tasted before in my life.

But we have to go back to the beginning to enter into a different cycle. If all my offense seems to stem from the fact that someone doesn't love me in the way I want/need them to, then what does that tell me? For me, it tells me that I am deriving my entire sense of self-worth and stability and value from other people's love. Breaking the cycle means backing up all the way to the point of where I find my self-worth, where I get the feeling of being loved from. The whole point is that we find all our love and fulfillement in Jesus. If my sense of self-worth and value are coming from any other source than Jesus, then it will be lacking, because humans are lacking. We are imperfect and flawed and selfish, and we cannot expect other flawed human beings to fill the void of perfect acceptance and faithfulness and belonging and love that we all crave so desperately. As a friend of a friend said so beautifully to me the other day, we have to "Stop living FOR acceptance/approval and start living FROM God's acceptance/approval of us"... To find that deep within our soul our only desire is to live for the approval of One. To know and believe that we are loved, valued, longed for, worthy, treasured, by the one from whom limitless, perfect, beautiful, immeasurable and unstoppable love flows forth forever and ever more. Love that will climb any mountain, swim the seas through the most violent storm, light up the night sky, and come relentlessly and recklessly to chase us down and pursue us, to rescue us over and over. To hold us tenderly and to say "I see you, I know you, I choose you, and I love you. I want all of you." The love that Jesus has for me will never fail to reduce me to tears that come from the deepest part of me. Tears of gratefulness, of  joy, of trust built on a history of His unfailing faithfulness to me. When I was all alone in darkness and everything felt stripped bare, every joyful piece of innocence torn from me, and I could not bare the weight of all that was lost, the only thing left in the windblown gray with me was Jesus with His arms around me. Holding me. Crying with me. Cradling every tear as it fell from my eyes... His heart broken with mine. He said He would be there. And He was. He said He would never leave me. And He didn't. Every wound in my heart from the beginning of my life, the crippling fear and insecurites, the feeling of having to perform to be loved, of being ripped apart privately with words if I wasn't perfect, the hurts of having my flaws paraded in front of my face and hung over my head... they disappear with Him. He tells me He is proud of me. That He wants to be seen with me. That He cares how I feel. That He wants to listen to me. That He has time for me. That His love is not conditional to my performance. That He made my body and it is not a cause for shame. That He has wept over my little girl heart and all that it endured before I ever even understood what it meant. That feeling of relentless pursuit that I have craved all my life is Him. He wants me, loves me, tears down every lie and battles every enemy to find me and stand for me. He is my defender, my vindicator, my every heart beat. He is my all, my everything, He is what consumes me and breathes life into me and makes everything worth it. He endured brokenness, betrayal, rejection, and pain unfathomable to prove Himself to me. To live from the perspective that there is One and One alone whose approval I seek, who I want to make proud, will change everything. When I come from that place, I find I am standing on such solid ground and such an unshakeable foundation that someone forgetting about me, someone betraying my confidence, feeling unloved by someone I care about... it doesn't shake me. My self-worth is no longer a fragile house of cards that can come crashing down at the tiniest puff of hot air and leave me curled in a ball on the inside, crying, feeling broken and alone. My self-worth found in Jesus becomes a rock solid castle that will shelter me from the cruelest storms and fiercest winds that could ever be dealt by human hands.

I pause here... so moved by His love... so deeply experiencing and remembering His goodness to me... I could not go on if it were not for His love.



From here, Jesus led me to more questions about how to keep loving even when unmet expecations are part of the equation. The key word He gave me is ACCEPTANCE. We have to be able to accept who someone is. We have to stop wishing they would be who we want them to be, and accept who they are, flaws and all. History and all. Annoyances and all. Past hurts and all. We take the good, and we accept the bad, knowing we do not have the power to change it. It is in this spirit of honesty that we can begin to analyze the relationships where offense has begun to cut off our ability to love those who are most important to us. What is it about that friend that has hurt you most? Is it that you have told her secrets and she has shared them? Maybe this has happened over and over throughout the years. It's felt like banging your head against a brick wall. Every time you open up and trust again, she hurts you with betrayal. Ok. Lets accept this. She is not a safe vault for you. BUT! You have so much fun with her. You laugh together. You like similar things. You both love to cook and share recipes. (Again, made up scenario) But here you have a complete picture. There are things you love about her and would miss dearly if you never spoke again. But there are places you are not safe and have been wounded. Often there is grief involved in acceptance... grieving what you wish you could have and accepting what you do have. So how do you keep loving her? This is where you construct boundaries in love, to protect a relationship and give it a place to survive and grow. You wouldn't take a shade plant that needs lots of water and stick it in the ground in the desert and expect it to flourish would you? The same is true for people and relationships. We have to create an environment in which relationships can thrive and be nourished. We can't take a person who is immature in keeping confidences and expect them to handle delicate information properly. But that doesn't mean we can't still stand side by side with them laughing and chopping up veggies to make a bunch of freezer meals together. You can construct a boundary, made in love, to protect the relationship. You can say to yourself, we can get together and talk about our meal plans and tell funny stories and have a great time. But I can give myself permission not to pour out the vulnerable details of my heart to her that make me feel unsafe. You protect the relationship by accepting the person, flaws and all, and making adjustments in order to keep yourself in a place where you are not continuously wounded, and where you are able to continue loving them. It's hard to accept, but often, in a relationship that feels impossible, we are the one who needs to change. Getting to a place where we are loving without an agenda, where we are loving not because we need something back, but just because we want to give, is the most pure and beautiful place I've ever been.

 [This might be a rabbit trail for another post, but another piece to this equation is learning to speak truth in love. Maybe you feel like you can't just pretend to be ok again with someone who has hurt you over and over. Maybe a conversation needs to happen to open up that doorway to relationship again. Using "I feel" "I think" and "I want" statements to lead out the conversation (Totally borrowed from a wise friend) helps so much. "I felt hurt and betrayed when you shared xyz that I asked you not to" Instead of "You betrayed me and hurt me and I can't trust you anymore..." You still can't expect them to change even if you do tell them what hurt you and even if they do apologize. Maybe they will, maybe they won't. It's still ok to create a loving boundary that will help your relationship to survive. Sidenote to the sidenote, my personal biggest challenge is learning not to share too much vulnerable information... I love to feel close and connected and have realized that I often try to mend relationships by sharing vulnerable information about myself. As you might guess, this has often backfired and left me feeling even more hurt and wounded then where I started.]

To jump back into the real post... Unoffended love has set me free from carrying wounds with me, walling myself off, shutting down my heart, and feeling out of control or unable to love in relationships. I have realized how fully I lived for the approval of others and how dangerous and unhealthy that has been for me, and in turn have begun to taste the fullness and richness of the pure love of Jesus, my truest, most faithful, and best friend. It is a daily tight rope walk, one that is full of tension, but it is the safest place to be. When I find myself spiraling into old familiar feelings, I start asking myself questions. It always starts with asking myself where I'm finding my worth. Then reminding myself who I am to Jesus, and asking how I can honor Him in that moment. Then accepting who the person before me is, and asking myself if I need to lovingly construct boundaries in that relationship in order to protect us both. Beyond even accepting people is accepting circumstances, and then asking the Lord to reveal the good in it, how to make the best of it, and how to honor Him through it.

When Jesus commanded that we love our neighbor as we love ourselves, He wasn't giving two separate commandments that exist apart from each other. We literally are incapable of loving someone else if we do not love ourselves... If we're not accepting and believing Jesus love for us, then we're expecting others to fill that need. And if they don't do it right, then we can't love them well either. At the core of our being is the fundamental need and desire to know that we are loved. Accepting Christ's love for us as the only source we need for fulfillment is what unlocks us to be able to pour out unconditional love for others. Love for others cannot survive without being loved by Him.

 "We love because He first loved us."1 John 4:19. 


Pieces

Reckless Love

Is this really my life?

I've been quiet here for awhile, writing mostly in my private journal or just letting my thoughts turn over and over inside my mind before they come out in quiet conversation with my husband or closest friends... But I miss this space so much. Sometimes fear holds me back from sharing, from being vulnerable or honest on this type of more public platform. Fear of man... fear of being misunderstood, fear of being judged. Fear that people with no context for what I'm going through right now will make assumptions and judgments that only hurt me more. (Truly almost no one knows the scope of the multiple situations that all exist simultaneously in my life right now.) Or the biggest fear... that people will misread or misjudge my character. But when something really stirs on my heart I don't want fear to keep me back from what I'm called to. And I've seen over and over again that when I share (or when others share) from a place of vulnerability, it brings connection and hope. I see the beautiful souls of other people walking their own roads of heartbreak and pain and suffering, trauma or tragedy, but with the common thread of finding something good in the ashes. Coming together in brokenness to find healing. To find growth. To find community and freedom and to see the bigger picture that God is working in us all. Watching beauty slowly unfold itself in the midst of the mess, watching joy come in the morning. I see the souls of people who have walked these kinds of roads in the past and have come out on the other side already, standing up and cheering us on, or holding out their hands to offer hope even while we're still in the midst of the valley. And if I focus on that the fear slowly recedes, and the courage to share begins to surface. Because I don't write for my critics. I write for my comrades.

So with that said.... here I go.

Sometimes there's a wrestling match that takes place in the human heart. It's born out of a deep tenacity and pre-disposition to fight for control in a sometimes uncontrollable world. Sometimes situations and circumstances beyond anything within our power to change or predict or mold with our own two hands come into our lives, and our microscopic humanity becomes painfully visible to us. In these moments we wrestle. We ask questions. Why? What did I do to deserve this? What could I have done to prevent this? How do I move forward from here? Why can't this all just go away? It's natural to search for answers. It's natural to want to understand why something happened to you in the first place. The questions are normal. The push back to get some feeling of control over your own life is almost automatic. But it's also a place we can get stuck.

I have found myself here. Faced with decisions I'd rather not make. Faced with choices where none of them feel good. Faced with obligations I would never ever ask for. Situations that feel like lose-lose. Wrestling with God... asking Him why me? Asking Him what I did to deserve to be born into this situation. Asking Him why I can't just run away from it all, or why He can't just make it all go away. Feeling angry, broken, lost, confused... acting like my life is mine and feeling like this is all just so unfair. On my knees.... "Jesus, why have you given this to me???" Crying in the dark of night. Waves of panic attacks... Inability to control my breathing... fighting for my life to protect my heart and not let one more dagger pierce... feelings of rejection spiraling out of control... fighting not to let the walls come back up, forcing myself to stay open, to not become cynical... to just breath in, then breathe out... to calm down... to wait for the pain to subside... Can anyone relate?

It was at about this point in my desperate sad frustration and wrestling that God met me. And He asked me a question.....

"Why do you think your life is yours anyway?" 

Eyes open. Tears standing poised on the edge of my eyelids but not quite spilling over anymore. That wave of chills over taking my entire body. That fresh life breathed into my spirit. That voice. That beautiful voice of truth and clarity when all else is chaos. Why do I think my life is mine anyway? Really, why? ...... I might not be able to control the situations and circumstances that are taking place in my life. BUT I CAN CONTROL MY RESPONSES TO THEM. I might not get to choose all of the events that take place in my life. But I can walk them out in a way that builds my character, with integrity, that gives glory to Jesus. I might never have an answer for why I was born into something that I would have no choice but to face, but I can choose to become better for facing it.

Then the next question, I asked it to myself. What do I deserve anyway? ...... I am vapor, I am dust. Every single breath I take is a gift. If these situations are included in the life He gives me, so be it. I will bear them with honor. In Job's darkest days He was asking questions and wrestling too. Turns out God had some questions of His own. I can't even read this passage without the booming and thundering power of His holiness and majesty completely gripping my heart. He asks me these same questions:

“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?

    Tell me, if you understand.
 Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
    Who stretched a measuring line across it?
 On what were its footings set,
    or who laid its cornerstone—
 while the morning stars sang together
    and all the angels[a] shouted for joy?

 “Who shut up the sea behind doors
    when it burst forth from the womb,
 when I made the clouds its garment
    and wrapped it in thick darkness,
 when I fixed limits for it
    and set its doors and bars in place,
 when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther;
    here is where your proud waves halt’?

 “Have you ever given orders to the morning,
    or shown the dawn its place,
 that it might take the earth by the edges
    and shake the wicked out of it?
 The earth takes shape like clay under a seal;
    its features stand out like those of a garment. The wicked are denied their light,
    and their upraised arm is broken.

 “Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea
    or walked in the recesses of the deep?
 Have the gates of death been shown to you?
    Have you seen the gates of the deepest darkness?
 Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth?
    Tell me, if you know all this.

 “What is the way to the abode of light?
    And where does darkness reside?
 Can you take them to their places?
    Do you know the paths to their dwellings?
 Surely you know, for you were already born!
    You have lived so many years!"

An eternal perspective will change your attitude in a heart beat. God doesn't condemn my wrestling, in fact, He invites it. He invites me to step in an grab hold of the impossible, the messy, the imperfect, the broken, and to embrace it and fight with it and to find the good in it. It's when I wrestle, ask the hard questions and cry out for the reasons and the answers that my humanity is met with His holiness. It's when my finite is met with His infinite. It's when He looks at me with His head slightly tilted and a gleam in His eye, and meets my tear stained, defiant gaze and says in that soft, loving, slightly teasing way, "Do you really think you know more than me?"

And that brings us full circle... Is this really my life? Maybe. And maybe not. My life is not my own. And yet the way I walk it out is fully my own. I believe the answer is this: Even though I don't have control, I still have choice. I can run from my situation, but that will not make it go away. Or I can embrace my situation, wrestle with it even, fully walk it out and make it a part of my story. And something beautiful might grow up in my heart because of it. That's what He promises us, after all.

It's ok to be the one who wrestles with my creator all through the night, til the dawn breaks and the sun begins to rise, and who shouts at the top of my lungs, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me!" Maybe I can walk away from that fight choosing not to focus on the limp, but choosing instead to focus on the fact that I have been marked by my maker, that I have wrestled with God and with humans, and have overcome. (Genesis 32:22-31)

On finding hope when your heart is broken

I've spent a good part of my life praising Jesus from a field of sunshine. There were occasional storms that passed overhead, but most did not linger. I would have even told you during those storms that I thought I understood pain and heartbreak. But not nearly the way I do now.

My life and heart are broken wide open. The enormity of what I feel seems like it can't be contained inside my own body. It seems impossible that the human heart can handle this. There's so much jammed down inside exploding from within. Hence the brokenness. When your heart cannot handle the magnitude of the situation, it breaks. And all that is held within starts to pour through the cracks. It feels like living life outside my own capacity, outside my own body. It feels like I thought this would crush me into oblivion, but it broke me instead, and now my heart keeps beating and my body keeps functioning and the life flows out of me and I wonder how long it can go on for but there's just no end in sight to all that has been kept inside. Pain is an immeasurable substance. And the resilience of the human heart is a miracle. To be broken but not die? In the brokenness I have met Jesus again and He has proven Himself to me in ways I never knew Him before. His faithfulness, His love, His pursuit of me and His goodness. He is true. Always true. Always who He says He is. And in the midst of my brokenness I've found intimacy with my creator that I cannot describe. So much so that I wonder how I ever thought I was alive before this. The paradox. In the midst of something that feels like death, I've found life. Maybe true life doesn't come from whether my heart is beating or not, maybe it comes from relationship with the one who created my heart in the first place. Not just relationship, but the knowledge that He has held my beating heart from the beginning.

Things look and feel hopeless to me. But my hope does not come from the way things around me look. My hope is found in my miracle working God. And the fact that He promises to work all things for my good. And that He won't ever leave me or forsake me. Ever. My hope is not in man. Every single one of us has sinned and fallen short. We all have been hurt and caused hurt. My faith is not in man. My hope is in Jesus. He makes a way where there is no way. He has proven himself over and over again.

I am still standing in a field. And I am still praising Jesus. Only the torrential downpours are like none I've known, and the sunshine feels far, far away. What does it look like to sing in the sunshine? I remember it was sweet, it was beautiful, it was lovely and peaceful. But what does it look like to shout out the goodness of God at the top of your lungs in the midst of a hurricane, with your arms lifted high and the rain pounding your face and mixing with the tears pouring from your eyes?  What does it look like to proclaim with all your heart that God is good when your situation feels anything but good? What does it feel like to scream against the roar of the wind and the rain "I TRUST YOU GOD! YOU ARE FAITHFUL!" when your heart has been betrayed to the utmost by man?
Words fail to do justice to the power, the breathtaking juxtaposition of faith and hope in the face of pain and heartache, the strength found in surrender, the valiant battle cry that arises from within when you are broken wide open and the only place left to go is TRUST. The resilience and strength and fire and fight that is found inside when you are broken open and the life is spilling out with the rain. And while that fire and that fight is startling to those looking on at the miraculous spectacle taking place in that wide open field in the midst of the beating rain, the one most shocked of all is me. I stand with my arms up and my life flowing outside of me and my heart shattered in pieces and yet I feel the surge of hope and faith and strength rise within and it spreads fire through my veins and stirs fight in my soul and out of the corners of my eyes I see an army rising... I see wounded and broken and hurting people standing to their feet, fists in the air, screaming at the storm, shouting in the rain, proclaiming God's glory, His righteousness, His goodness, His holiness, His faithfulness.... An army of those wounded by the enemy... little did he know.... their wounds, their brokenness, the pain he inflicted... it would only make them stronger. And so I rise. I stand. I pour my heart out in the rain and I prophesy to the storm. I say "Storm you cannot win! You do not have the final say! You do not define me! Storm you will bow before the almighty name of Jesus!! The voice of the one living inside of me is louder than your wind! It is fiercer than your rain! It's roar will drown out your fury! The one who lives inside of me will outlast you and will conquer you, and I will praise Jesus even as you do your worst."

And someday.... a day I've not yet seen, but I know will come, as sure as the dawn... The storm clouds will spend themselves dry. The last of the pellets of rain will fade to a shower... their fury spent, their strength used up.... The clouds will begin to part. The sun, that foreign light, will break through. The warmth will creep back in as the gray covering peels back and recedes to the horizon.

And up from the ground.... new life will emerge. Things buried and dead will begin to grow. Fragile shoots of green will push their way slowly up, through the cracks in my heart.

Though it be buried deep, hope does not die.
Hope will never die.


The most beautiful song: Find Me

Were we made to fight silent battles?

Once upon a time... There was a nice, tidy little grocery store. It had rows upon rows of neatly organized shelves, all items lined up with their own like kind, everything fastidiously labeled, everything in its place. Each morning the lights came on and the doors opened and the people came in and the day began. When items were taken off of shelves new ones were put in their place and the show went on... not a can was dented, not a box was torn, not a seal was broken... the uniformity was especially noteworthy in the soda bottle aisle. Rows upon rows of tall, shapely, proudly capped bottles of sweet drink lined the aisle from top to bottom. Many shoppers came in, selected their bottle or two, took them to the check out, and that evening when the doors were locked and the lights went out new bottles of soda were put in their place so the show could repeat itself the next day. The scene of perfection went on, day after day after day... But one night, when the doors were locked and the lights were out and no one was around to see... one lone bottle of soda that accidentally sat ever so precariously on the edge tipped just so and fell... crashing down, down, down to the floor below and rolling about, spinning in a dizzy circle that got slower and slower until finally the motion stopped. The next morning as the sun came up, the soda bottle was found on the floor, and before the lights came on and the doors opened, in an effort to maintain the status quo of tidiness and perfection, it was quickly picked up and placed back on the shelf with its comrades. A great sigh of relief... everything again looked as it should. If you happen to see the rows and rows of soda bottles sometime... you'd never ever notice that one had once fallen down. There's not a thing to give away it's downward crash. It still stands tall and proud, still has its label neatly in place. The bubbles that had risen crazily in it at first have now settled to a completely imperceptible state of calm. You'll never know what happened that time in the dark when no one was watching. There's nothing to betray the way it was wounded... Is there? As long as you leave it sitting there on the shelf... it's fine. The show can go on. But... what if you take it down and try to open it up? What will happen when it's time for it to be used for what it was made for? The second the lid cracks.... all that shaken up trauma comes rushing to the surface in a completely unexpected eruption.

That soda bottle..? It's me. It's how I feel inside. I've experienced trauma and a crash and devastation I've never imagined walking through, and it's all supposed to be kept private and silent, and now the lights are up and the show carries on... and I can do my best to look just like my normal self and get dressed and curl my hair sometimes and put on a smile and say I'm good. I can keep it all capped deep down inside me and try to go on looking and acting the part so no one has to be bothered by the messiness of what's inside, ready to explode. But the second something unexpected happens or my stress levels get out of control the lid cracks and all the pain and anger and frustration and confusion comes bubbling up and spilling out. It feels like now that the initial crash to the floor is over, the world would want to pick me up, put me back on the shelf, and tell me to just shove the pressure building inside and get over it... to carry on with the parade of perfect happiness that everyone expects and to stay silent. What am I supposed to do with this? Do I pretend to be fine and post about my tulips and the dolls I'm making and the cute things my kids did and carry on with the show like nothing is wrong and everything's perfect and keep my fake plastic label neatly in place? Or do I start to wonder how many other people are out there who have taken hard hits and falls in the dark of night and are barely keeping their lid on too? Are there more of us? Are there a lot of us? Are most of us in pain? Are all of us in pain? Are we supposed to keep it quiet and pretend to be fine? Are we supposed to go on and keep smiling and posting only the happy? Doesn't that just further the illusion that if you're in pain or not ok, then you are clearly alone? And does it feel better to process pain silently, feeling alone? To pretend you're always happy when you're actually heartbroken? It doesn't for me. It feels fake. It feels wrong.

But then there's this fine line... Because not all of us can share exactly WHAT is causing us pain... But does that mean that we have to deny the pain altogether, just because we can't say what it's source is? What if we were gentle with each other? Maybe some people can share the source of their pain. Maybe some people can't. What if we gave each other the protection to admit we're broken and try to heal, but stopped pretending that we are all whole? What if I could just say, "hey, I'm not ok, could you pray for healing and guidance and peace and redemption?" But didn't have to probe down deep into the wounds and open them back up for the world to see that, yes, indeed, I am bleeding and hurting. Can we care for each other like that? Can we put ointment and bandages on each other instead of trying to perform surgery on something we know nothing about? Could we just extend love and kindness and gentleness to people even when we aren't sure if they're in the midst of a battle?

I think we can. This is different, what I'm doing here... This is strange and uncharted for me. To say I'm hurting when there aren't really answers yet? When people might try to pick me apart? When people might not really care about me at all? It doesn't feel safe. It feels crazily vulnerable. I don't like being vulnerable, especially in an already broken place when people can be mean and hurt you even more. But I believe I'm being called to share my brokenness, to say, to whoever else is in pain too... "YOU ARE NOT ALONE. WE CAN FIND JESUS HERE. LET'S LOOK FOR HIM TOGETHER." So I write about my brokenness and my search for Jesus in the midst of this for healing, both for me and for you. For the broken. For the hurting. For anyone else who is also in pain and feels alone. You're not. And Jesus is so good. And He is here. And He promises to never leave us. And He helps us find joy in our tulips, our children, the dolls we sew, or dinner on the table even when the world feels like it's crashing. And He is the strength inside of us when we are falling apart.

I am so, so thankful for my husband, for our marriage, for the safety and security and unity in my relationship with Shaun as we weather this storm together. I am beyond grateful for my four healthy babies who overflow my heart with their preciousness. And I am thankful for those of you who have messaged me... people who are going through their own storms and their own trials and who are also broken... People I can find healing in sharing with... or people who have said they aren't sure what's wrong but they're praying anyway... It means SO much. And I am thankful for the outlet of writing, to process and to share and to be real in the midst of a very vulnerable place.

So to answer the question at the title of this post... I don't know. Were we made to fight silent battles? What do you think? I don't think I am supposed to be silent right now, but maybe you feel differently about the way you're fighting your battle and that's ok. I think I could stay silent, but I don't think that my brokenness could be used to help heal anyone else if I kept it private. That doesn't mean everyone needs to shout their vulnerable places from the rooftops. There's no judgment here. I'm just done with any show in my life that claims perfection. You'll find none of that here. But if you're not looking for perfection, you're looking for connection? For healing? For the way that Jesus takes broken things and puts them back together? I hope you find that in this place.

On Finding Strength When Your Heart is Broken

When you're surrounded by blazing fire on all sides, and there's no way to go but through it, and you feel like you're about to be consumed, like you're suffocating, like you're not possibly strong enough to take another step, and you can feel yourself about to fall apart... that it's only the weakest thread left that you're using to hold the pieces of you together, and that last tiny thread is smoking and smoldering and about to snap too... where do you go for the strength that you need to just keep going? When you feel like you've already dropped to your knees, searching desperately for that next gasp of oxygen to get to your lungs and propel you to keep moving, but you start to see the cracks taking shape, the pieces falling, and your own two hands just aren't enough to hold all of you in place anymore... is there anything left inside of you that's strong? Some hidden reserve that's just not tapped into yet? What if there's not? But what if there is?

In my brokenness, when the pieces are falling, as I feel myself unable to hold it together... when the tears are avalanching and my soul is crushed and the pain feels more intense than I can bare... as I find myself in the midst of a fire that I never thought I'd survive... when my last thread of strength has snapped clean through and it's all crashing, each piece wilting away like the petals of a dying flower, falling like shards of smashed pottery... I'm finding that there's something left inside of me that's not even part of me, and yet is the very essence of me, and it's stronger than anything I'd ever hoped to be, and it's pulling the breath in and out of my lungs even when I feel incapable, and it's unable to be stopped, unable to be silenced, unable to be broken. It is Christ in me, the hope of glory.

And He is light and He is goodness and He is strength and He is hope and He is almighty and He is faithful and He is true... And He is the FIRE that created fire and no earthly flame can touch him, no earthly flame can shake Him, no earthly flame can hold Him back or keep Him down. And when every piece of me is broken and falling and shattered, He remains at my core, and He will not let one part of me go unaccounted for, and He will hold each sacred piece as we move through the fire together... and it is the very fire we go through together that will forge me back into something whole again, something stronger than I was before. Because He works all things together for my good. 

I am more than flesh and bone. I am more than just a body. I am the temple of the Almighty Creator of the Universe. HE LIVES INSIDE OF ME, and in Him I live and move and have my being, and when the strength of my flesh fails, when my heart is broken beyond recognition, and when the last reserves of my human strength have been poured into the dust, He is the fire that still roars inside of me, the Heavenly fire that overpowers and repels the earthly fires of this world. It is because of Him and Him alone that when I stand in the blazing infernos I thought would overtake me, I do not die. It is because of Him and Him alone that, though the enemy keeps turning up the heat, billowing the fires to five, six, seven times hotter, that instead of death, resurrection takes place. 

Where I'm at right now... I don't see the resurrection yet. I'm still in pieces. But though I am broken I am held together by Him. And the resurrection is coming. I know it. I can feel it in my bones. When all that is left on my lips is a whisper, I will speak the name of Jesus, and all the forces of Hell will bow before the power of the one who makes His home inside of me.

In my weakness, HE IS STRONG. It is in Him I find strength when my heart is broken.

If the last of your strength feels poured into the dust, this song and this song are speaking strength and truth to my spirit. Maybe they will speak it to yours too.

On Finding Joy When Your Heart is Broken

Sometimes when I think, it becomes lyrical, almost like a musical undertone, the emotion of the words playing along and carrying it all together in the symphony of my thoughts, my life... I'm not a musician, I'm a writer... But if these words and thoughts of mine were to music right now, it would be soft piano, strains of violin, soft and so quiet that at times it's barely heard and then swelling into the faithfulness of God with notes of heartbreak and redemption coming together into the kind of music that shakes your soul and brings you to tears... I don't know if you can hear it too. But that's what I hear as I write this...

And as my heart continues to beat in it's very broken and devastated place right now, I feel the pieces held together by my loving and faithful God. The refiner's fire doesn't destroy, it strengthens. And I know my God to be who He says He is, even when things don't feel right or happy... When the pain is so deep it feels hard to breathe... He is joy, He is love, He is good, He is truth, He is hope. He is faithful. He is the light. The only light sometimes. And when I feel like I don't know if I'll be ok again, when a smile feels fake, when people casually ask how I am and I'm not sure how to answer.... I know that He is still the author of joy. And actually, it's ok to smile in the midst of heartbreak. To laugh even. That amidst the deep pain there are still pieces of joy, of happiness, of life still going on. Of the innocence of my children. Of the love of my husband. Of the goodness of God. And I can grab hold of those. They are tiny pearls of beauty, of light, of joy... and as each tiny pearl sits softly in my hand, it's up to me what to do with it. I don't need to rush it. I can let it roll gently back and forth there in my palm... I can sit there a little while and soak it in. And I can softly string those tiny pearls of joy together into a strand.... a string of God's faithfulness. A necklace of God's goodness in the midst of pain. Reminders that joy surely does come in the morning. And I can clasp that beautiful reminder gently around my neck, and press it to my heart even as the tears fall... And I can hold fast to God's promises and His steadfast character. That He brings beauty from ashes. And even though it doesn't feel like it, someday I'll be okay again. And I can find joy even when my heart is broken.


If you're not sure if you'll be ok either, go listen to this:
You're Gonna Be Okay

Looking in a Mirror

James 1: 23-24 

"Anyone who listens to the Word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at His face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what He looks like." 

As always there are about a million things I want to write about. But after logging onto my blog for the first time in awhile and re-reading my last post I thought it was appropriate to start with this. In my last post I was in a place of searching... I wanted to know how to help others and still take care of the people God has given me in my family without letting myself fall by the wayside either. I was looking into God's Word, begging to hear His voice, and looking into a mirror at myself, if you will.. Searching through my fears and motivations and what healthy boundaries looked like and asking Him to show me who He has called me to be. Well God answered me, and it was crystal clear and revolutionary to the way I think. And as usual, His answer was so, so simple. 

Basically, Shaun had pneumonia from mid October through November and then the post-pneumonia  recovery was very difficult as well. I felt run-down and exhausted (although that season compared to where I'm at now was actually mild looking back). But in the midst of trying to parent alone and take care of Shaun and keep up on all our responsibilities by myself I was asking God if I was still supposed to try to take care of other people too. At the time our neighbors had their electricity shut off for not paying the bill. They were into some rough stuff, but there were two little girls living there as well and it was freezing cold outside and I felt like God asked me to take them a hot meal. I was mad at first. I thought, "God! I could use some help here myself!! I feel like I'm drowning and can hardly keep up with my own life, let alone help take care of them right now... " But I knew what He was asking me to do and I knew I would ultimately miss out if I didn't respond to it. So I went and rang the neighbors doorbell and asked if I could bring them dinner the next night. He was so appreciative and said that would be great. So I went to bed that night planning to make a big pot of chicken and dumplings to take them some hot food the next day. When I woke up the next morning I had a text from a friend I wasn't expecting at all. She said "Hey don't make dinner today! I'll be dropping some off by 5:30!" I literally felt the tears come into my eyes immediately. That evening I was ringing the doorbell and taking a container of hot soup to our neighbors just as my friend pulled into our driveway with a dinner of roasted chicken and veggies and salad and dessert for us. I cried as she carried it into our kitchen and put it on my counter. It was far more than I had even given to our neighbors.

And this is what God said to me: 

"You take care of the people I ask you to take care of, and I will take care of you. 

So simple. So pure. So uncomplicated. I don't need to take care of the whole world. I don't need to feel guilt or shame because I can't rescue every hurting person. But what I can do is help the person who God places right in front of me and asks me to care for. Because He won't overload me. His burden is light and His yoke is easy. He calls us to rest, afterall... So when I am faithful to what He has called me to do, He will not leave me spent and exhausted and without care for myself. He will send someone to care for me when I need it, too. And I can trust Him with that, even when I don't see how it will work out right away. 

What would this world look like if we all just helped the one person in front of us we knew we were supposed to help? 

Reflecting on 2015

Coming off the whirlwind of a year that 2014 was I had declared the beginning of 2015 a season of rest. I remember telling people I was going to sleep the whole month of January. But it turned out that when I gave myself the opportunity to rest and kept our schedule open, things like painting our kitchen cabinets and walls happened instead. Things like organizing my closet, and hanging a framed photo collage of family pictures in our basement living room. Unhurried, simple things that brought life and creativity back to me, those things were rest. I loved just being in my home, taking my time, and I long for a season like that again now. It's quite a good way to spend January. The beginning of this past year seems like a soft, gentle blur almost... There was a piece of it pierced by tragedy and extreme sadness and confusion, but I feel like the Lord has already healed the deep hurts from it and used it in a way to bring good into our marriage. He sent godly counsel to us to help us process it all right from the beginning, and I am so thankful for that.  I had goals to start running and getting back in shape again. But first I needed to have my right knee checked out to make sure it was ok to start (I had acl surgery on it my junior year in highschool, and it was hurting again) I scheduled the MRI for the middle of May. They told me to take a pregnancy test a few days before the MRI. I was sure there was no way I was pregnant, we had been planning on the MRI, knew it was coming, and being careful.... Well, I got up early in the morning a few days before the MRI and took a test, and if I squinted I could see a faint line. Oh. My. Gosh. It wasn't crystal clear, but it was exactly how my first test with Drew and Jaden both were. I remember tip toeing to our bed in the semi-darkness and waking Shaun to tell him.... I might be. His eyes popped open. WHAT?! I waited two days and took another test. And yes. It was confirmed. There was a baby on the way, and the MRI and plans of running again were canceled. And I remember feeling such an indescribable joy thinking of how God's plans are so much better than our own, and just embracing the idea that our fourth baby was on the way and being so, so excited. Around 7 weeks along I remember falling asleep one night when I had an incredibly strong feeling that this baby was a girl. I told Shaun. Then we waited 8 more weeks and had an ultrasound at 15 weeks that confirmed. Yes, this baby was our daughter. A daughter we had prayed and hoped for, and here she was on her way when we didn't even know it was in our plans. I felt like I was hanging onto the balloon strings of my heart as it sailed out of my body. My throat was tight with so much emotion. It took me about 5 weeks and another ultrasound to confirm for sure, for sure, that it was a girl until I let my heart go in full anticipation of all that a baby girl would mean to our family.

I spent most of the summer sick. My way of coping was to let everything I possibly could go, and I would just take the boys to my parents' pool to swim most days while I tried to feed myself and rest and fight the nausea. I don't think the sickness was as extreme as it's been in past pregnancies, and I was able to eat more fruits and veggies and tried to take better care of myself in the midst of it. I loved all the days spent at the pool with my boys. We took a family weekend to the beach in June, and even though I was throwing up in the hotel, something about the ocean and waves on the beach would really help to calm my sickness. I learned about choosing joy in the middle of not feeling well. Through other events, and combined with the tragedy that happened in the middle of the winter, June also found Shaun and I in the best place we've ever been in as husband and wife. Complete, total honesty and vulnerability, an extreme pursuit of each other, deep gratefulness and protection of our marriage, and intentionality in the way we expressed love and served each other. I can't say enough how thankful I am for that season. It laid a foundation that we are still building on now and we feel so strong together. It really is amazing how the Lord takes tragedy and difficult situations and refines them into these precious treasures that have the potential to be the most beautiful pieces of our lives. We had a vacation with my whole family in July before my sister and her husband moved to Minnesota, and while I was still sick, it was such an awesome week together. I had thought for years that when Shaun turned 30 I wanted to  have a surprise birthday party for him. His birthday was coming in August. I took what seemed to be the simple route, hired the Marriott in Lancaster, rented a really cool room and had them cater all the food and do all the decorating. I had a specific budget, but they worked with me and went above and beyond what I asked for. All that we had to do was get dressed and go spend the evening with our friends. It was one of my favorite parties ever, ever, ever. We had so much fun, I didn't want the night to ever end. Somewhere in that end of August time frame, still battling nausea although it was beginning to get less, I had a little break down because all the things I had put off all summer came crashing back in at me at once, and I just didn't feel physically capable of handling it all. In my weakness He is strong, and somehow everything got done that needed to get done. Isaiah turned four (we went to the Plumpton Park Zoo), Drew started kindergarten at the beginning of September, we celebrated my sister in law's baby shower over labor day weekend, and right when I needed it the most we had a week long vacation in the OBX with two other amazing families. During that week away every little bit of stress and worry and anxiety and sickness completely melted off of me. I felt like a completely different person coming home from that trip. I am so thankful for the timing of it and the invitation to spend that quality time with people who love Jesus and spark life and energy in us, encouraging us and being the most amazing friends. (Ben, Camille, Paul, & Rachelle... thank you so much for asking us on that trip.... we loved every second!)

Once home from our September beach trip fall was beginning full force. And as always, the fall is my very favorite. I was so taken over with the beauty all around me. Drew turned six (we went to Cherry Crest Farms, and did the corn maze there), Jaden turned two (we had such a family fall day at longwood gardens and going out to eat at Ruby's diner), and we welcomed my first sweet niece, Selah Joy, into the world all in October. Let me tell you, this little girl is so very precious. I have never felt quite like this about anyone else's baby before.... She is beautiful and I miss her when I don't get to see her. I am so excited for my baby girl to grow up with her sweet cousin and see the two of them form a little friendship!
And in the midst of all the joyful milestones of life all around us a family nearby suffered the greatest loss I  can imagine, their precious baby girl who was just a few months younger than Isaiah went to be with Jesus. I can't describe the way it has impacted my heart and mind, the depth of daily gratitude it is cultivating in me, that we really don't know how many days or breaths we have with the ones we love, to make every second count, and to just be thankful in the hard moments that my kids are ALIVE. As I hung up the Christmas card we got from this precious family on Christmas Eve just a little over a week ago I just began sobbing. Once I got my emotions under control I went and found each of my boys, and just hugged them. I know that any emotion I have in regards to it all is just a drop in the ocean of what this family is feeling and going through. But I feel like my heart has been bound to theirs, and I pray for them and think of them daily. Even while just getting to know them, I feel a deep spiritual connection and a desire to lift them up continually, and to let what they are going through change me and who I am as a mother, and the way I react to life.

November.... lots and lots of nesting. I felt like I needed to get things done before the holidays, and did as much as I could, leaving a few specific things for these couple of weeks between Christmas and baby girl's arrival. We had a beautiful Thanksgiving, loved the weeks following, preparing for Christmas with our boys this year was at an all-time excitement level... They are at such fun ages and loved every part of it and wanted to help with everything. I kept telling myself all the while, as excited as I was for January, and as much as my mind kept trying to race ahead, I did not want to rush this time. I soaked it in as much as I could. We had candle light dinners, and played family hide and seek with only Christmas lights on inside, and took a trip to Longwood gardens to see the lights, and I organized Drew's class Christmas party... we baked cookies and we all slept in our basement family room around our tree as has become tradition. Just yesterday we went to see The Miracle of Christmas at Sight & Sound. It was magical and wonderful. I really don't want it to be over. But I also want to put everything away before baby girl comes. So I am stuck right there at the moment. Savoring these last few days of Drew's break from school, nesting more when I can, trying to decide if I'll take down the tree today or tomorrow...

And looking so forward to all that 2016 holds. I've never started a new year off with a new baby, and I am so excited for that this time. Her bassinette is all set up in our room. Her carseat is ready to go. Her nursery is just about completed, I just need to spend a little time organizing the closet still. My mom is going to come over to help me clean early next week. I have a hair appointment scheduled for some fresh highlights... That's the next few weeks. Beyond that the changes are so big that I can hardly think about them. I can't wait to share that news here when it's a bit more official. I feel like God is going to show me how to move forward in big things without letting sentimentality hold me back so much this year. And as in every year past of my life, I know that whatever He does will be for our good, and I trust Him.

Mourn with those who mourn

Romans 12:15 "... rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn..."

If you are local you have probably heard the news. It is wrecking my heart over and over.
I have a hard time exposing myself to heartbreak if it is not carried by someone I know personally. But we are told to mourn with those who mourn. Mourning is a season that assuredly comes in life.... but hallelujah it is a season, and our God is a redeemer, a restorer, and He brings beauty from ashes. Promises to cling to in the darkest of times.

A family about the same age as Shaun and I entered a nightmare Friday morning. We don't know them well, Shaun played softball with the father, and I had a conversation or two with the mother when we visited my parents church when dropping my kids off in the nursery. They had three children, two boys and a girl. But friday morning their little daughter, just a few months younger than Isaiah, was riding in an enclosed cab tractor with her daddy when the door latch was somehow pulled and she slipped from the cab. And in those terrifying moments her precious life on earth ended and her time in eternity began, and I can't even begin to imagine the gut wrenching horror and devastation her mommy and daddy are experiencing.

My heart has never broken so fully for someone I barely know before... I woke up Saturday morning crying for them. I wept all through worship this morning for their dear family... They are never far from my mind and I just keep lifting them in prayer, hoping that they can feel the way the community is desperately trying to bear their burden with them, and praying strength and comfort over them. There are so many who have been so deeply impacted by the loss of little Avah. It takes a mighty healer to care for such a deep wound. I am thankful our God is so faithful to bind up the broken hearted. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. My mom was at the viewing this afternoon and said she's never seen so many people. The lyrics to this song are especially meaningful right now:

"You satisfy my soul
You satisfy my soul
You satisfy my soul
With Your love

You make my heart sing
You lift me on eagles wings
Just when I thought that my heart it would faint
You take the darkest night and turn it to shining light
Just when I thought that the night had won

Hallelujah, You make all things beautiful
Hallelujah, trials and testing prove there’s gold
Hallelujah, You turn mourning into joy 

sometimes you gotta sing your way into the truth..." 

God is good. All the time. And He works all things for good for those who love Him. And He will never leave us or forsake us. That is the truth, and it is unshakeable, a rock and a steady place to stand when everything else is shaking and falling apart and full of confusion. 

I was sitting on the floor this morning trying to put all my boys shoes on. I was feeling quite large and pregnant. Jaden didn't want to be anywhere but my lap even when I was trying to put Drew and Isaiah's shoes on, and he kept kicking his boots off after I would get them on. A situation that could easily have turned to frustration, or exhaustion or maybe stern words about behaving and sitting still... but all I could think is how grateful I am to have this pile of boys pulling on me and sitting on me and kicking off their shoes and climbing over each other and complaining about their socks not feeling right. Oh God, that the small things would be kept in perspective, that the big picture would be ever present, that our gratefulness for the life around us would never be far from our minds.... I started talking in a silly accent to them, diffusing the craziness by adding my own, and even as I made them giggle the tears were clouding my eyes as the motivation for my actions was so very clear to me... to think of a family in such close proximity to us mourning a beloved child.... how could my reaction to my clamoring babies be one of frustration this morning? 

Jesus, God, Abba Daddy... I know your heart is breaking too. God you feel. You are full of emotion and passion and desperate love for us. And you care. We thank you Jesus for your promises to comfort... to never leave... to hold us close and deliver us. To redeem the most horrendous situations. God be glorified through this. And Jesus I speak supernatural peace over their family. Help them cling to your truth. Make them strong in you. Let them press into your love. Jesus I declare that "this tragedy is not their identity, and that there is life to the full still ahead for them." Jesus hold sweet Avah close. And bring comfort where it seems impossible. 

It costs us more to stop hoping than to keep hoping. 

Please lift up this precious family in your prayers.