Advent

I’m grateful that Jesus continues to make Himself known in my little life. In ways that are so gentle, loving, graceful. I'm grateful that He doesn’t always answer my prayers the way I want Him to. I smile at this song now, knowing how differently I felt humming to the tune last Christmas season. I begged Jesus to show up in a way that felt powerful, certain, in ways beyond recoginition. Little did I know He was revealing Himself to me just as I had asked, just differently than I imagined. 

I don’t know if this is what it means to be an adult, but I feel like this mid-twenty age more than any other season so far is all about living in constant tension. And by combination of my choices and what I believe to be God’s leading in my own life, I have landed in a season where my life just seems endlessly suspended by possibilities. And there are a lot of questions and most of it feels pretty overwhelming.

We are a couple days from Christmas. I'm not a Christmas person, but 2014 made me an Advent person. Because Advent is all about tension.

It’s about anticipating. About waiting. It’s about Jesus showing up. About His birth, and how His birth changed absolutely everything. Advent is about celebrating. Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us, ever present, humbled into human likeness. 

I love stories about women in the bible. Of women who trusted in Jesus, who lived by faith and not by feeling because i so often life by feeling. And so, this Advent season, I again reflect on Mary, the celebrated mother of Jesus.

I often wonder exactly how Mary felt during this season – during this blessed anticipation of her baby's arrival. A baby that meant more than a change of season in her life. A baby that she was told would change everything and yet she was carrying in such a normal way. A baby that was King, the Prince of Peace, but not the king anyone expected. A baby born in a time of confusion and chaos, sought by a tyrant king.  

I wonder if she felt like nothing in her life was certain, linear or safe. And yet, her faith anchored her. Truth tethered her heart to a certainty she couldn’t necessarily explain or understand. Truth that changed everything. She lived in tension. She accepted truth, lived out of truth, but “pondered these things in her heart.” (Luke 2.19, King James). 

Advent, above all else, is about hope. It’s about the promise of Jesus and all the freedom He extends to his children within the doubts, struggle, questions and pain of it all.

Christmas isn’t an easy season. I sit here tonight with my heart heavy for many reasons. Close friends of mine are mourning death, and death stirs up all sorts of pain and feelings of loss. I think of my grandfather who spends another Christmas without his wife, friends who will again feel the absence of their parents. I think of poverty, torn families, and the lives that were destroyed by all that happened in Ferguson. I think of people that are dear to me, of myself, who wrestle through much confusion and doubt. And I’m grateful that the message of Advent is for us.

His presence is what we celebrate this Christmas season. Great tragedies do coexist with great Hope. 

I hear this truth freshly in old christmas song. “A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.”

Dear heart of mine, keep rejoicing. His goodness prevails. 

I love that quote. Less self-focus, more self-less focus.  And its the heartbeat of thankfulness. It breathes into me an attitude of more grace, of more gratitude. It gives me clearer vision of the small things that are undeniably important. It causes me to stop, and breathe, and see what’s happening in and around my life and not my schedule.

Like so many, I also proclaim this day all about the goodness of the Lord Jesus. This life hasn’t been easy, I still long, and feel, and live within confusion and the broken mess of myself. And yet, it is all put to rest, if even just for a moment, in light of who Jesus is - the author and giver of every good thing. It's doesn't necessarily take away or diminish the pain, disappointment or confusion we all experience, but for just a moment it makes the impossible sit at rest. Looking at Jesus reminds me that despite it all, there is victory, there is hope, there is freedom. And it's deep, profound, like we are apart of something bigger and grander than ourselves, than our own stories. His goodness, our thankfulness, puts our souls within it all. 

I have richness. That’s been my hit word over the last months – rich. There is undeniable depth in my life at the moment. A fullness that i can' explain, but the source is undeniable. This is what i means to live within the freedom of Jesus. This is why surrendering is the best way of life, and I pray this next year teaches me to be more vulnerable, to experience the joy that surrender brings more. 

I'm thankful that He is teaching my heart more about rest. About less doing, about more receiving the richness of life in Jesus. About the power of the Gospel that is at work within me. Embracing this is a rhythm learned, counter intuitive, hard, sometimes discouraging, and completely worth it. Its teaching me to dwell in relationship, to be more vulnerable and open. It teaches me to spend more time around the table, more time investing in the lives around me. To eat more slowly, to enjoy more early morning walks, to stop and see the graceful nature living and moving all around me. 

Thanksgiving teaches me of the faithfulness of our loving God who is working in the undercurrents. In midst of all our doubts. He is changing, renewing, making us more whole, and it's often in the hidden, secret, deep places in our souls first. In thanksgiving, I hear his gracious call to come to him with all pain, sorrow, and joy. He understands, and better yet, willingly shoulders the load alongside us, even for us. 

Thanksgiving reminds me that there is an alternative way of living - another rhythm to dance, or move in or shuffle through. Our fleshly nature encourages us to look inwardly. The spirit encourages us to look outwardly, encourages us to look directly at the power, and person and works of Jesus, and in that we are given blessed freedom. Freedom from the mess we are, or live in, or have been forced to walk within. 

I’m learning this Thanksgiving thing. I am grateful for a day to reflect on this journey, a day set apart to simply focus on all we’ve been given. I am thankful that the way of thankfulness aligns my heart with the Father's love for me. 

San Fran

There are a couple things that i know for sure - I love travel, and i deeply love people.

The last several weeks have been a little chaotic. I had made the decision about a month ago that it was time to move on and quit my times at the Nines and start to look at some other options. I'm not sure what that meant then, and i'm still uncertain what the means now. It's strange like that - every time i've made a major life decision that i've been at total peace about, i typically have little idea as to how it will play out practically.

Before quitting i had planned a vacation with the beauty pictured above for her 30th birthday. After a little debating on location, we settled on San Francisco for October 2014 - and what a fun trip it was. Well, fun when we weren't at the hostel I had foolishly selected. We figured as long as we didn't touch the walls and avoided the bathroom as often as possible, we would be fine. Apart from that, I think we both thoroughly enjoyed the trip. Fishermans Wharf, Alcatraz, infamous Cable Cars, Golden Gate, bike riding, eating, Ghiradelli chocolate, Blue Bottle coffee, time with good friends? What more could we have wanted? (okay, maybe an actual hotel with a 'safe' shower...and by that i mean sanitary).

I love time with quality friends. Linda is one of those friends where you can pick up where you left off, there's no pressure, and she's not afraid to honestly tell you exactly what she thinks. I love her for that reason. She's an excellent soundboard for life's questions, rooted and real, fearlessly committed to Jesus and isn't afraid to talk about it. She's a safe place to be, and loves fun as much as I do. We might love fun and jokes and the show "Miranda" a bit too much. We are both very different, but appreciate that about one another. Linda teaches me a lot about finding a balance in life.

I really enjoyed San Fran. Mostly because it was several days of quality time with someone dear to me.

I'm back in Leavenworth now. Perfectly timed with my favorite season of changing colors. Its strange being back in my hometown, that i love dearly. Every time i come home i realize i have one foot in this world, and one foot in my life in Portland. I just love each for such different reasons. Leavenworth has been the place i've come back too after the last couple major transitions in my life, and this time is no exception. I am starting the conversation of big questions related to what i desire the trajectory of my life to look like, and where i feel the Lord is guiding me.

I'm not sure what's next, but I am confident and excited for what the future holds. In the meantime, my prayer for this time and space i have away from the reality of work, my roommates, my home life, is that i would dig into Jesus. This for me usually looks like spending time with books that inspire me, reading my favorite blogs, writing, long walks in nature and some gym time. It will look like finally paying attention to my hip and taking the time to strengthen my hip flexors in preparation for my next 1/2 marathon in December. It will look like coffee and honest conversations with people that i love dearly and feel the same back. IT will look like silence, and rest, and an occasional nap.


Just a few more snapshots of our fun....

Cheers.

Several months ago I started having the conversation with those close to me of what it would look like to quit my job. This was piggy backing my prayers from the months before of asking the Lord to give me clarity of when the time was right. I've known for sometime now that the Nines was not where I wanted to be long term for several reasons, but I felt strongly then it wasn't time to walk away. Then.

My mother gave me some sound advice that has stuck with me for sometime: "Let the process decide." In other words, let the the Lord direct you through the circumstances, through conversations, through the leadership and opinions of those you respect in your life. But mostly through what the Lord is whispering, impressing upon your heart.

I've been working overnight shifts for the better part now of 4 months. It's strange to me how quickly the time seemed to melt away. When that curve ball came, I felt very strongly that the Lord didn't want me to fight that change, but to lean in, trusting he would lead and guide through it. And I have, and I'm grateful I listened.

Operating in a lifestyle so far from my natural tendencies has given a lot of clarity into who am and what i desire my life to look like. I feel like I've discovered, or maybe just more aware, of my own choices, those made and those foregone, and their impact my witness to the world. The ways they reveal who I am, what I'm about. Through my time, my money, the places i expend my energy. As I've really analyzed that, both professionally and personally, it was very clear, alongside the dynamics and climate in the front office at the Nines, that its time to leave. To walk away and trust that all i feel the Lord has revealed to me is "part of the process," leading me to what the Lord has next for me. **Side note. I really enjoy that look that follows after people ask "what's next?" and I essentially answer "don't know, but I'm trusting." This is one of those times that I have to lay down the criticism of others, and trust that the Lord would make it clear to me if I was doing something idiotic. He hasn't, and so I move forward.

I'm excited about this transition. Excited about change, looking forward to seeing what the Lord has next for me, dreading the inbetween of where I am not and where i will land. I am choosing to walk away without another job lined up, without clarity in what exactly I should be pursuing. But the Lord has never had an issue with feet that are willing to move. I know as I look at the process, the wisdom and blessing of those I trust dearly to take this step in faith with me, a deep gut sense that this is where the Lord is calling - it all points to trusting, a trust that actively places me in a space that only He can work.

I've never been a person to end anything well. When I reflect of the change of seasons in my life before, there are one or two abnormal times where transition was, on a heart level, easier than expected. As an analyzer, I've always had the tendency to want to slow down, stop, digest, and really let all that's happened soak in. Experiences change you - for the good, or for the not so good.

I walk away from all this with really mixed emotions. My time at the Nines has really stretched me, revealing quite a few things i don't love about myself. The pressure from this job has drawn out (or sometimes dragged out) areas of my life that aren't pretty. I've made some great decisions in my life both personally and professionally during my time here, and I've made some piss poor decisions both personally and professionally during my time here. I struggle with some of the regret I have for my choices, for my beautiful display of -28 patience with my coworkers that happened on more than one occasion. I walk away sad as I recognize that this is the end of a season in relationships with my Nines family - Josie R, Marcela P, Hannah C, Katy W, Steve S, Michael B and Quincy H to name a few. These people have been blessings to me who lifted my spirits and loved me as I've been, both personally and professionally.

I'm not sure what's ahead and what's next. I'm uncertain, but I rest in a certain God. Beth Moore once wrote "Christ bring his peace where He is prince. That's what the title 'prince of peace' represents." There is peace in the surrender of my fear. I pray with expectancy and hope, knowing that the Lord wants to do a new work in my life and in my heart.

I'm excited for a breather. I'm ready to spend some time with my family who are dear to me. To hold babies, play cars with Adric, drink coffee, jog some 8 milers. Spend some time in the kitchen and around the table. I'm excited to read Anne Lamott, journal out some thoughts and organize my closet.

This is a good life, and I want to enjoy every moment of this transition. So cheers to another end, another chapter, and to another beginning. This life isn't perfect, but it is good.

labels

I'm about to enter into another transition. One that came up in unexpected timing. A transition that stirs those deep things in me that are still being healed, the things in me that i desperately want to keep underground until they miraculously come out beautiful somehow. 

I ask the Lord to help my unbelief in all this.  This world, this life, gives us plenty of names, labels, to define us. These labels define how we look at ourselves, how we perceive the direction we are headed in the future. What we are (or aren't) worthy of.

And so, in the midst of a little chaos, in stepping into where i believe the Lord is leading me, I hurt today. Struggle with myself, with my choices, with the labels the evil one has given me, with the labels I've given myself. 

I am thankful that the Lord always has something to say, speaking a truth, into my life, particularly when i look at myself and despair at who i've become. And in this i find this verse - Indeed, we felt within ourselves that we had received the [very] sentence of death, but that was to keep us from trusting in and depending on ourselves instead of on God Who raises the dead.

and later to say: 

[He has also appropriated and acknowledged us as His by] putting His seal upon us and giving us His [Holy] Spirit in our hearts as the security deposit and guarantee [of the fulfillment of His promise]. 2 Corinthians 1. Amplified. 

In these moments of doubt, it's who we belong to that matters. It's who He is that matters. For reasons i will never understand, he has chosen to bestow grace and favor upon me. He has chosen me to be one of his, and He is my good shepherd, entirely independent of the choices i make. Praise be to the Father, that i can trust his leading, his guiding, through this process. 

This late morning, i choose to rest in the truth He has revealed to me. That he is my redeemer, my shepherd (Ezekiel 34), my loving Father. 

I can breathe in. breathe out. focus and know. I am deeply loved 

I often find that my narrow-mindedness is my biggest downfall.

My inability look beyond the past, beyond the present. My inability to see the blessing in past, the blessing in my moment. I think we all tend to view our world through our filter.

Through my desire, my dream, my need. Through my pain, my longing, my regret.

“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

His love, never ceases – not dependent on my circumstances. His hope – not dependent on my circumstances. His abundant mercies – not dependent on my circumstances.

I need this today. I don’t feel anchored.  I feel unsettled, insecure, uncertain. Frustrated and ashamed of my neediness. Like I've single handedly ruined my reputation. Like I’m stripped of my strength, exposed in my weakness. His love, His hope, His abundant mercies – not dependent on these circumstances.

Watch & pray; I hear that whisper. Watch healing. Wait for wholeness. Lean in, and let Jesus continue to do his work. 


---


"If we only had eyes to see and ears to hear and the wits to understand, we could know that the Kingdom of God in the sense of holiness, goodness, beauty is as close as breathing and is crying out to be born both within  ourselves and within the world; we could know that the Kingdom of God is what all of us hunger for above all other things even when we don't know its name or realize that it's what we're staving to death for. The kingdom of God is where our best dreams come from and our truest prayers. We glimpse it all those moments when we find ourselves being better than we are and wiser than we know. We catch sight of it when at some moment of crisis a strength seems to come to us that is greater than our own strength. The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, i think we are all of us homesick for it. " Frederick Buechner

Leaning in

The seasons change so fast.

There is a nature park about a mile from my house. Correction. the park is about .7 miles from the house. But most days, when i'm not running, just walking, it feels strange to not have coffee with me. So I make a longer trip to accommodate my needs-to-be-broken- addiction. So this morning, i pulled myself out of bed "early" for my overnight schedule, drug myself to starbucks, ordered my americano and was shocked to find that the person behind me was ordering a pumpkin spice latte. She had 'unlocked' it somehow, which implied to me that she was very special in the starbucks world. Because i certainly didn't have the vaulted access to the PSL syrup, and neither did, much to her disappointment, the woman behind her.

We are in pumpkin spice latte season already?

Although i'm not certain i would venture anywhere near announcing the arrival of fall, i am anticipating it happily. Fall is heavy cottons, books, hot tea, changing colors and earthy smells. It's candles, blankets and quiet, chilly mornings, early evenings. Fall is not so fast, not so crazy, and i need that transition. My internal engine has been running too fast, too far, too long.

I recently was challenged to join this online bible study. The study is on Esther, and in so many ways, i think it comes in perfect timing. I need something to challenge and inspire me, To keep digging in when everything in me is fighting. In the confirmation email that my registration was successful, Jen pointed out something i've heard before about the book of Esther - it's one of two books of the bible where God is never mentioned. And yet the entire trajectory of Esther's story is marked by the loving, leading, hand of the Father. She's a strong woman that has purpose and plan to her life. And i need that hope right now.

I don't feel fulfilled. I feel like i'm a round peg in a square hole. I pray and i cry and I ask, and all i feel is silence and void. In my work life, in my personal life. In my loneliness, in my longing to be a contributor and not a consumer. I don't feel like i fit or belong, i don't feel productive or at peace. I don't feel utilized in any capacity within work, within relationships. I feel weak and pathetic when accounting accounts for every detailed mistake, big or small, and it causes me to finally cry.

I pray and ask and cry and doubt if i'm Gods beloved. Deep in me i am centered - the hope of Jesus, the anchor of our souls (hebrews 6). That matters. But all i know is the struggle. I question the truth of being Gods beloved when i feel so directionless, so helpless, so small, so weak, so lost and confused and alone. How am i supposed to believe and lean on the Lord Jesus when i feel like he's void in my life? I fully believe that he is orchestrating the events in my life, my present, my now, for his plan and purposes. But i am not handling it well. Somedays from the surface i'm surprised to find myself okay, functioning, and seemingly doing well. But sitting on the inner steps of my heart, I know there is much to be done. Much softening, much trusting, much need to remain being honest and not to throw in the towel and build walls of bitterness. I want to remain soft, but i am terrified that the only way i know to be soft will actually ruin the relationships i have with my friends, that being soft will make me to much to handle. That the fears that plague me will push me further into isolation.

Sarah Bessey, author of Jesus Feminist, wrote this:

"While i was preparing for childbirth, I learned how much of the pain women experience during labor is related to our own fears and resistance to the pain. Dr William Sears calls it the fear-tension pain cycle. Because we are afraid, we naturally hold back and tense up, and then there is more pain, so we experience even more fear, and on it goes, around and around, building with intensity on every turn. To interrupt the cycle, we need to surrender to what is happening, right now. We must lean into the pain instead of resisting it...  

It seems counterintuitive; we should run from pain, right? But believe me: leaning into the pain makes giving birth easier. I should be the mother of seven children, but there are only three tines with us now. Believe this: i have learned to lean into some pain - to let the pain be there, part of me, with out fear, without judgement, without refusal, because this is all part of the struggle of birth and life. And the pain will, somehow, eventually, give way to blessed release and relief and hopefully, joy.

I'll avoid the prescriptives and how-tos for both our sakes. Instead, if you are struggling to break that cycle of fear-tension pain, I'll tell you a bit more about the God i love so wild but remember, the subtext for all of it is this truth: lean into it. Lean into the pain. 
Stay there in the questions, in the doubts, in the wonderings and loneliness, the tension of living in the Now and the Not Yet of the Kingdom of God, your wounds and hurts and aches, until you are satisfied that Abba is there too. You will not find your answers by ignoring the cry of your heart or by living a life of intellectual and spiritual dishonesty. Your fear will try to hold you back, your tension will increase, the pain will become intense, and it will be tempting to keep clinging tight to the old life; the cycle is true. So be gentle with yourself. Be gentle when you first release. Talk to people you trust. Pray. Lean into the pain. Stay there. And the release will come. "

I read that, encouraged, and scared by the reality of truth within that. To be vulnerable and honest is so hard right now. But to not be honest is to remain in the same vicious, insecure cycle.

I chatted with a friend yesterday who over the weekend had a mishap with his road bike. He fell on a turn, without his gear on, which resulted in several pretty sevear scrapes along his side. After a couple days and some slightly scary looking yellow hues, he went to the doctor who instructed him to scrape the wounds down to the point they were bloody again. "The gravel is trying to work it's way out of your body" he said.

I thought about that, and how that is so true to my heart right now. I need the Lord to scrape away the criticalness, the ungraciousness, the hardness from my heart. I need to be softened again, desperate again, willing to let go of my pride and my fear and my self sufficiency and allow myself to be vulnerable enough to cling to my Abba, my Father. I can trust him to do that work.

I have to lean in. Into the "I just don't know."

The last couple days have been eventful to say the least.

Justine got her little puppy. Her name is Allie, and i have to admit as much as i am not a pet person, she's pretty cute. I had no idea that puppies could be quiet, and she essentially has made no noise since she moved into our little home last week. I'm not sure what a bark out of her would even sound like. I have a feeling that this anti-pet girl might start to grow uncharacteristically attached to the little munchkin. (see, "pet" names for the pet already. that's a bad sign).

Meggan broke her tibia this week. That makes all 17 steps to our upper unit apartment quite interesting. I know that Megs is not enjoying this experience all that much, but secretly, and maybe selfishly, I am. I'm enjoying time spent driving with her back and forth from work. I'm enjoying honest conversation, silliness, laughing and joking.

Meggan's friendship has meant a lot to me these last days as i continue on my 'overnight' lifestyle. It's given a little more purpose and direction to my day, giving me an opportunity to serve and to grow outside of just my world at work. This opportunity has really blessed me, really given me perspective.

There is still so much beauty happening in my life - i keep writing it, saying it, knowing it, shocked by it. There is richness in my friendships, even if it's not the level of connection my heart is still so desperate for. I sat on the patio of a coffee shop i'd been dying to try with Justine and enjoyed some sunshine in shorts, a T, and sunglasses. We keep seeing Hannah like she is an extension of our little apartment family. After a few alterations, I was able to wear my grandmother's wool green houndstooth skirt to work this week which frankly is an amazing feeling - kind of like getting a piece of her back for a few minutes. I made Parmesan Risotto tonight - it felt like accomplishing something notable in the cooking world. Kind of like running marathons makes you a runner, making risotto makes you a cook. I've been rewatching Downton Abbey like it's no ones business - something about the characters and their struggles in that show speaks directly to my soul.

I am loving attending Colossae. Something about the slowness in my approach there, something about being there inspires me to live more fully, honestly, rawly. There is something special happening there - it's not perfect, but i feel my spirit moved within me when i think about it, pray about it.

And yet in the midst of this all i fight my own humanness. There is a tension we all live in the middle of. In the now and also the not yet. Working out what it means to hope in a world of so much uncertainty and yet learning to be joyful in trusting of the Father despite it. I'm learning to live within my own tension of working a job with a schedule i'm not overly found of, of living within singleness with a strong desire to not be so, in trusting the Lord to bring opportunities to serve in a capacity that fits my gifts and trusting that the people he has poured into my life now are my calling to pray for and serve. It's learning to prayerfully hope for the future while living undeniably in the present. This isn't a new struggle, but i'm more at peace with the fight, knowing that it is good.

I know that the Lord is completely trustworthy in all things, at all times. I believe it with all my heart for others, but i'm not sure I always believe, know that to be true, in my own heart and mind. I want to learn to pray into my future specifically

I love these verses, wrestle with these verses, "camp out" in these verses, questions, and believing the implications they could have in my life if i LIVEd in their reality:


This i know, that God is for me - Psalm 56

Not one word of all the good promises that the Lord had made to the house of Israel had failed; all had come to pass." Joshua 21.

Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.  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. - Romans 5.

 Let your reasonableness be known to everyone.The Lord is at hand; 6 do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 4

I am thankful for this season. For overnight shifts, for a new rhythm, for a reason to look at my hours, my free time a bit differently. I appreciate this change. For an opportunity to slow down and be reminded of truth, of the things that actually matter. This is the first set "nights" i've had off where i haven't fought sleep to try and get back on a day schedule. I am fully on overnights now. I'm awake when the rest of my world is sleeping, and it's peaceful and painful at the same time. I don't see my favorite faces as often as i would like, but there is a gift in the quietness. I've watched the sun light up life the last several mornings, and something about that stirs my heart a bit. It speaks of promise to me -  that mornings always rise after long nights. 

I'm also in a season that I need to just simply avoid facebook. It makes me insecure and more certain that I’m not enough – not sexy or successful enough, not smart or certain enough. It makes me lonely, and the baby pictures make me cry because I’m in this terrible baby phase where new life inspires me. I think it's been the birth of my "nieces." My baby girls that remind me life is beautiful, and most of those moments are small and ordinary and yet inexplicably amazing. 

But really, today I’m sick of looking at all the pictures of married people, and hearing about newly married things, or wedding things. I just need a break from the couple oriented season of life I am living in and not apart of. It’s hard. Hard not to feel less. Hard not to take it personally. Hard to keep my eyes hopefully forward. Hard to trust the Lords control over my life in my singleness, in my loneliness.

I’ve been asking the Lord for a word for this season. I’ve feel very strongly that He is asking me to wrestle with Him. Not in the way I’ve spent the last year doing – not out of insecurity and thrashing about for meaning. But to really ask and seek and trust in who He is while working in all this gracious uncertainty. Working overnights and being up all night relatively alone creates more space that makes that easier. 

I went on a long walk today. Its not exactly the cardio party I was having when training for the marathon, but it’s been the only exercise I’ve been able to coax myself into. I read an article a couple weeks before i ran about ‘the race blues’ that most runners experience after the race. Its true. It’s a running-working-out depression, and it is terrible. So for now, I force myself into fresh air and walk. Just walk. I live about 1/3 of a mile from the Tualatin Hills Nature Park. Its been to me what ‘the loop’ was at Capernwray. It’s been me time, alone time, prayer time. It’s time to step back in the hopes to see a bit clearer, to think clearer, to feel clearer.

I’m growing. Walking down a path, and trusting that my life is meaningful where it is, trusting the Lord is only continuing to guide into some meaningful He has set apart for me. Today it’s hard to trust that. All I know is that I’m lonely and the pie I baked actually exploded sticky, sugary thickness all over the oven and I hope to clean it all before Justine notices. Justine is getting a puppy on Friday, and I feel a little overwhelmed by the idea of 3 girls, the cat and and "ali" all in our 1000 square foot apartment. Further, it makes me even more grumpy when others question the sanity of that decision as I spend most unoccupied seconds of my day questioning the same thing. 

Perhaps this is pathetic, but i feel normal and peaceful when i'm walking, just talking, praying the Lord would open my eyes to see him a bit clearer. That's all i can do right now. 

Loneliness is a strong emotion.

I've thought about that a lot. And about how there is a connection between loneliness and bravery. About loss and ache, pioneering and soldiering on towards the next sunrise.

 I read this in a book recently and i really liked it:

"There are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes bravery involves laying down your life for something bigger than yourself, or for someone else. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved, for the sake of something greater. But sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it is nothing more than gritting your teeth through pain, and the work of everyday, the slow walk toward a better life. "

Perhaps because it suggests that the ordinary is bravery. That living each day, within its routine and normalcy, finding firm footing in the non-spectacular is noteworthy victory. Or perhaps I desperately need that to be true as I continue to walk in the now, trying not get anxious about the future or frustrated by the past. I need bravery to not be reserved solely for the outwardly heroic among us - the ones that do amazing, stage worthy work for the kingdom - but for those that make peace with where God has placed them when its so far from where they dreamt themselves to be. I need bravery to be living 'wholeheartedly' as Brene Brown would say, in the regularness of life.

As I think of that, I keep arriving at this same point; I have richness in my life right now. I can tangibly recognize the hand of God in this season. Although the promotion at work is challenging and difficult, I see the Lord changing me, growing me, and stretching me through it. I see him changing my attitude and teaching me to rest in the uncertainty that is in my work culture. For me, learning to 'roll' with the unknown is a huge deal. He has opened my eyes to the unique opportunities before me both at work and in the lives of those around me. I am challenged by these, blessed by ability to use my gifts to love those in my life.

The richness is constant; in my morning swims, in the candles burning bright and slowing by my bedside, in the summer heat with a bowl of fresh homemade guacamole and sparkling white wine (strange combination, I know). I see richness in conversations about life and walking with the Spirit, in ramblings of new motherhood and big dreams. In the melodies of soulful songs and the silence of late nights when the rest of the world is sleeping.

But sometimes those blessings cause that ache. That ache for being understood and that ache for intimacy. I see the richness, but the richness begs for more and reveals a painful emptiness inside of me that demands relief. Sometimes all i can do is cry and beg the Lord to keep changing my heart to see His presence in my life a little more clearly. Because that aching hurts too much and the loneliness is overwhelming. Living vulnerably and honesty within the tension of richness and that ache feels like bravery.

My walk with the Lord has changed so much over the last couple years. Desperation for intimacy has been the single greatest catalyst in my understanding of grace. Because sometimes in my groaning for deepness and richness to touch my heart I touch the Hand of grace and I become strangely, peacefully aware of the God who loves me deeper than words can express. Its strange how pain and ache and trial and tribulation so often leads to the Well that never runs dry. And that changes my life. The grace that the Lord extends to me to be fully vulnerable with my frailty changes me.

Portland

I had coffee with a friend months ago who introduced me to a little cafe tucked in Northwest called Breken Kitchen. There are several reasons why I love this little cafe.

1) the coffee is amazing
2) the food is homemade, rustic, and fabulous
3) REALLY decently priced.
4) I always leave challenged.

I love that place. If you are a Portlander, go. I've been quiet there, laughed my head off, and cried my eyes out. I've obnoxiously talked on the phone for hours, and moved locations in the big sitting room because i had multiple friend dates in the same day. The moments i've been the most honest and raw about my doubts and my worries and my ugliness have happened in those chairs - sometimes sitting across from someone, sometimes alone.

The first time i visited all those months ago, my friend shared her story of how she believed the Lord brought her to Portland to heal her. Not from physical ailments, but from the deep pain and isolation she felt in her heart. Being from the Sunshine state, Portland hadn't been an easy transition, but the Lords plan was so much greater than she could have asked for.

I think of that conversation now and the truth that's been in my own life. It's one year ago tomorrow that i packed my bags and moved to this city. One year ago i thought things were about to get a whole lot easier, and then they got a whole lot harder. I can hardly believe that a year ago i pulled into Deb Osborne's driveway with a couple plastic baskets and boxes and started something completely new - removed from my family and my normal routine. As with any big change, we usually are so unaware of what we actually sign on for.

It's been a year of surprises. Of challenges that surprised me, of questions that ambushed me, of encouragements i never knew my heart needed. I started a job i never thought i wanted and landed the biggest promotion i've ever been offered. I ran a marathon, started counseling, bought a couple cookbooks, booked some vacations and accomplished goals that seems adultish - like learning to cook, getting a second credit card, buying 6 months of car insurance at a time and writing an actual budget. I'm still learning to stick to the budget.

Frankly, i'm surprised. I'm surprised how much i discovered i needed to grow, and let go, and sort through, and surprised at how much progress i've made in those areas. I am so glad i was honest enough with myself about feeling disillusioned and scared and bitter over the past and the future, and glad further that those things pointed me to counseling, to my knees, to the gospel, to the core truth of who Jesus is. I'm glad i've written and talked honesty and vulnerably with my counselor and with friends about the pressure i've felt to live up to the expectation of who i wanted to be, and who i am now. I'm thankful further to my girls who have loved me just the same, regardless of how depressing and frustrating it was to listen too. AL, JP, KD, CO, LL, NC, AH, LG,  JP, MK - I'm not sure how i would have made it through some of those weeks and nights without your prayers, your listening ears, your emails and texts of encouragement. You girls are my people. Honorable mention to AP - you have been a brother to me through the hardest of days, and never once made me feel pathetic about my tears. I'm so grateful for your friendship - for watching out for me and reassuring me in ways only a brother/male figure can.

I am thankful the Lord has stuck closer to my side than i ever counted on. In the last months, i haven't ever experienced the Lords presence more clearly or genuinely. I used to think that honest and ugly questions and rash, frustrated feelings put distance between the Lord and I. But what I now know is it's in that space the Lord was able to prove to me just how much greater His love and grace for me is. His presence extended to parts of my heart that really weren't reachable. Those ugly tears have been a blessing to me. Although i wouldn't want to relive those sleepless nights of confusion, isolation, and pain again, this year has radically changed me, and for the better.

I'm not sure why the Lord directed my steps to this city. But I do know He has healed me here. He is healing me here. Healing to a more whole version of myself. His work in my life has happened in the small moments. Decaf Americanos at Breken, jogs in forest park. Silent tears on the MAX, quiet, snuggly mornings with my roommates. Rain falling loudly, rhythmically, outside my open window and late night tea in bed with Shuana Niequist books. Long walks along cannon beach, and lavender-epsom salt baths (many of them). Heavy red wines, blended raspberry margaritas, sweet potato fries, fresh lime with cilantro and salsa and corn chips by the bucket full. Phone dates with friends far away, and steaming coffee with new friends here. Benches by the pond, and Pumpkin's constant presence. Waiting traffic thoughts, and songs whose lyrics speak life and feeling to my soul.
Life happened there - those moments where the sunshine, the soil, the water for all the Lord has been cultivating in me.

I am blessed. I am blessed that His truth is gripping to my heart in a way i haven't mustered on my own strength. The goodness of the Lord truly does follow us friends, and what a blessing it is that His Word remains true no matter how much we wander. He has made me glad in the midst of the mess, and to Him be the praise.

For three long days I have been yearning to sit down and write.

Write because I know something is stirring in me. It’s hopeful, it’s peaceful, it’s strong, and its sure. My thoughts always bleed better through my fingers, so finally, here I am. In my room, surrounded by 3 water bottles I can’t decide between, my sippy cup from last night, a glass a green juice from Trader Joes, a tummy filled with tuna, and a happy heart to just sit and be and relax. The apartment is quiet and alone and I am thankful.

I was offered a promotion at work. That sounds nice, and it sounds like the source of the excitement. It’s not. This promotion was the step I wanted to take when I applied for a position I was over qualified 11 months ago. It’s the one I’ve been actively waiting for while persistently working towards since I started that long time ago. It’s been teasing me since January, and finally, ffffiiiinnnnaaaalllllyyyy, it was posted before my vacation to the Big Island.

I had my “interview” before I left for my beautiful Hawaii and it ended in discussion about hours and pay scales and scheduling preferences. The interview breathed a bit of hope into my pending career – like I was about to fall onto something that would fill and satisfy the ache in me to live more in line with who I am. Something that wouldn’t feel so mundane and would bring about challenge and change – two themes I’ve been so desperate to cultivate in my life.

Much to my naïve glee, it only lasted so long. The follow up conversation happened, in which my growing suspicion of just how unorganized the system is was confirmed. A change of plans. A split position with a three-month rotating schedule. The verdict? Supervising 3 months of overnights (I did ask for clarification that meant I went into work at 11pm instead of 11am...don’t they know I hit ‘pumpkin’ status like Cinderella’s carriage at exactly 9pm??) to switch to 3 months of days. Not exactly the promotion that was promised or led to believe.

After several days of mourning, margaritas, buckets of chips and gallons of salsa, I decided to take the position. I wrestled and cried and decided to commit this time, specifically my coveted summer, to sleeping during the days and living at night. Frodo did this, but he had Sam and adventure and elves and swords. I choose view this time as a learning opportunity that will bless me in more ways than earning a good reputation or title with my bosses. This attitude shift is so much more spiritual than circumstantial.

After my initial negative reaction to the situation, and much to my surprise and delight, I haven’t fought this shift like I’ve been fighting disappointment in recent years. And for that, I am so grateful. I have spent so much of my energy violently, desperately, warring against my circumstances. This willingness to allow my life to take a shape I haven’t dictated is beyond a small step of growth. Miracles, my friends, happen.  For the first time in years, I feel my spirit a strong desire to lift up my fears of the changes and the implications of my  lifestyle to the Lord, and let him use them for a greater purpose than I can see. That is not my demeanor normally, and I am so thankful the Holy Spirit has worked so evidently within me despite myself.

Big theme I’m learning through this drastic lifestyle change: What it means to live in the process of developing. Develop -  grow or cause to grow and become more mature, advanced, or elaborate.

Developing. Learning. Process. All these ideas have nothing to do with knowing, completion, certainty, a finished product. Not fully matured. Not advanced. Not elaborate. It’s like I hear the Lord finally sighing a little. Because I’m finally letting that be okay. I’m finally letting go to the weight of living up to this standard of perfection, of knowingness, of certainty and clear purpose I’ve been holding so close for too long. In my search for purpose I have lost myself. I feel more free today than I have in years.

I’m a little more okay with who I am today. Maybe dating has helped this. To know that others find interest in me, value in me, who desire something in me that is imperfect. That I don’t have to know, and rather, there is much beauty in the unknown. Its healed me. It’s breathed in a desire to wait, and anticipate, and an attitude of hopefulness toward partnership.

I’m learning that you know what loving yourself means when you are able to give yourself heaping spoonfuls of grace in the thick, confusing, uncertain, dreadful moments that surface in our days. I know I love myself when there is grace to accept myself within the process of figuring me out – figuring out passions, jobs, direction, purpose. In so many ways, this dreadful, horrible journey of discovering ‘who we are,’ more commonly known as mid 20’s to early 30’s, is actually healing me. Restoring my relationship with Jesus and restoring that passion in my heart for mission and friendship and life. Process is healing me.

The Lord is working out His purposes. I am fully convinced with a concrete sureness I have not had in years that this season is the means to something greater. This isn’t the end of the story. 25 is so young and this is the beginning. That mindset, it’s a miracle too. We all live in a culture that is obsessed with the immediate, couples, big romance, convenience, super succe$$. The heart of Jesus is to meet us all right there – and that is beautiful. He governs our process. 

Lessons from Hawaii.

Several months ago I sat at lunch with some ladies who really have become my Portland family. We all ordered our normal salads and a generous pile of sweet potato fries and joked about the idea of booking tickets to Hawaii. We decided to make it less of a joke and more of reality, and now, i sit from our deck over looking the gorgeous pacific ocean. And its raining right now. And its gorgeous.

The Lord never fails to bring all things - events, friendships, conversations and experiences - in His perfect timing. The sway in Hawaiian culture, vibrancy of color, welcoming bitterness of fresh coffee, the crispness of salt water in the early morning - these things breathe life and hope into my soul.

Shortly before leaving I had one of the best counseling sessions I've had yet. The beauty of meeting with Susie is i often leave with more questions than answers, but the questions are hopeful. Like finally i'm meeting the sets of questions that inspire forward movement instead of despondency.

This is one of the first times in years i feel a dramatic pull, a more settled feeling, a more cementing peace that my life is perfectly okay with where it is. Beyond a desire to accept the place i've found myself, there is less in me that is defensive and fighting and panicking about my future and the past that has affected it.

I've been reflecting on why arriving to this point has been so difficult. It seems so elementary - this idea of letting go, and living in the now, and trusting that the Lord that holds on more tightly to me than I necessarily hold to him, is bringing about his purpose for my life in His, in this, perfect timing. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that i have actively been struggling with this question for the last 3 years, and probably before that, although i couldn't have verbalized it then. I love the verse in Isaiah 46 - " My counsel shall stand and I will accomplish my purpose." This idea of 'perfect timing' obviously runs throughout scripture. I think of Jesus. I think about 'how in the fulness of His timing' Jesus ministry began. That was an implied wait. I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about the subject of waiting, and the normalcy of it, and contrast that with our culture right now with smart phones and the omnipresent wifi and how we are a culture that can't afford to wait at all. So often i see my own happiness contingent on the timing of events, accomplishments, and relationships.

I also think of loss. Of pain, of need, of relationship, of closeness. Of loneliness, of human touch for our hands and our hearts. That's made this season difficult. Having to hold on and wait for holes to be filled, that frankly, may be better left unfilled for this time. Timing and waiting makes those things so difficult to feel through.

Waiting is exponentially harder when i compare the trajectory of my life to those in my inner circle of life. Of course it's always easy to see her boyfriend, or her husband, or his perfect little kiddo. It's easy to see the successful careers of others and compare their clarity in direction to that of my own.

Its hard to grasp that the Lords calling in my life right now looks incredibly different to what i ever wanted, perceived, or what i view around me.

About a year ago i was asked a question that has continued to stir in my heart and my head. A dear friend of mine challenged me to ask the Lord to teach me what it means to dream. The conversation we had on the phone is so vivid to me. I realize now that moment mattered immensely to where i am right now. That question was asked when i let go of my plan for my life (although i must say i immediately fought to create a different plan in its stead), took a step in the very much unknown and moved to Portland. The difficulty of dreaming is that it's so closely intwined, if not completely interchangeable, with the idea of hope. And hope at the time happened to be ranked up there with a lot of other bad 4 lettered words in my book.

Things have slowly been shifting over the last couple months. And for that i have to thank the Lords devotion to moving and breaking and mending my heart heart, Susie, and several dear friends - Amanda, Caitie, Laura, Linda, and my dear roommates Justine and Megs - you are the best girlfriends i could ever ask for, and i am in your debt for the countless repeated conversations i put you through. Truly saints. I used to be (and still am from time to time if i'm honest) so frustrated with my job and my lack of career, and now i realize that this last year has been purposefully and actively kept slow. Its in this slowness, in this dryness, the same scenery that caused me such foreboding anxiety and endless frustration, that i now realize the Lord has been so present. So close. So intentional. And that does bring tears to this girl who has spent so much time fighting to understand why life, of which i have a deep love for, has seemed so gray for so long.

I can't explain this, but i know that all that dryness loosened my grip on my life and my life plan enough to really allow me to feel free from my own bondage of needing to keep myself 'on track.' And by on track, i mean being apart of something meaningful in my job, in my relationships, and in my calling in ministry. I realize now that God has graciously humbled me without completely destroying or humiliating me. By his grace, i slowing fighting less, and giving way more to the grace of living in the middle. The grace of living without knowing certainty of direction and plan. Graceful, hopeful uncertainty.

This freedom has made dreaming feel safe. Hope feels safe. Vibrant flowers and beautiful scenes are more closely related to the awesomeness of life instead of fleeting moments of beauty like they used to.

I'm learning, slowly, and it is good. This life right no is actually good. And that my friends, is a big deal for me.

Take the moment.

I write today from a quiet apartment, with a small glass of wine, big bowl of soup, compliments of a half empty refrigerator, and ready to write with a full heart.

It feel like i've been living within a whirl wind again. It's hard to believe that only a couple weeks ago i crossed the finish line of my first full marathon. That moment, that accomplishment, that impact is still hard to describe. It was all the training and the choices made leading up to the event that made the finish significant. Like somehow i was defying some constraint and proving, more to myself than anybody else, that i can accomplish things outside of the ordinary. There is something about sweat and blood, tears and pain during an incredible race that unmistakably points towards the reality of what we all carry day in and day out. That somehow life is marred with accomplishments and defeats, joys and hurts, contentment and restlessness. We all journey through lifes ups and downs, but finishing that race felt like coming out on top. It felt like defeating something big, even if i wasn't exactly sure what that 'big' was.

I am so thankful i ran alone. Alone to pour out my own anguish and grief and frustration before the Father who knows. I swear the first 15 miles were spent just trying not to cry about life, completely removed from the race. I'm grateful, no thankful, that the Lord chose to teach me through that experience. I haven't exactly had the softest, most teachable heart recently.

The weather changed again. Spring happened, and is still happening, but summer is seeping in. Most mornings the sun rises over my head, through my window before i have a chance to roll out of bed. I will be sad to leave this apartment one day - sad to not feel warmth at my eyes first opening. That's been good for my soul the last couple weeks. The morning sun inspires me to pray, cultivates thankfulness, reminds me there is so much hope all around me. Life, and it's frustrations and irritations may not change with the seasons, but hope is still there. Sunshine reminds me of a God who always shows up.

With the change in seasons also came the birth of two very important girls. They are now part of my life, and I love them dearly already. Elaina Nichole Davenport and Evalynn Joy Ledezma. They are bundles of joy. They also are reminders. Of faithfulness, and goodness, and the continual work of the Lord in our lives. I love these little girls, and i love their momma's dearly who have been gracious enough to share their journeys with me. Babies give me excitement about the things to come.

I'm trying to keep softening my heart. I'm trying to loosen up and relax. i'm trying to cultivate trust. There is safety in trusting the Lord, there is safety in accepting the depth to which he loves me. I'm not sure how i got so far away from that reality, what made me stop believing so deeply the love he has for me. But something did.

I'm still getting back on track. Back on track in accepting that the Lords heart for me is simply be in his presence. In my heart i want this to be enough, and in some moments, it is. I know the spirit is working in me - tears come easily in songs, or in reading the scripture aloud. I know that i belong to Christ, and he is faithful to continue to work within me the plans of His future. But i am also painfully aware of this consuming groaning for change to be now. Somedays i feel like i would sacrifice anything for a shard of clarity, and often i just sacrifice far to much. I know i've broken the Lords heart, know that i continually break my own my heart, and all for little to show for it.

But i wonder if this is what real life is like. Trying to fight flesh and live in the spirit. Sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing.

The only criticism i received about my marathon came from one of the only people i really would have listened to anyways. She asked me why i didn't take my moment. My moment right after finishing. My moment for me. She said i started to take it, i started to cry, started to let myself relish, but then i turned to the crowd. I wish i had taken that moment now. I'm so bad at taking the moments to celebrate and appreciate and let myself be in the moment.

I've quit asking the Lord to reveal to me what he has in store for me. I've quit asking what's next, and in many ways, it's also been the end of hoping for anything to change. I'm not sure that's right, i'm not sure if that's completely spoken like someone defeated, but i do know it's different approach from what i've chosen the last several months. After the race i decided I'm done, as much as i'm able, crying over all the confusion and frustration and weight i've felt over the last several months. I'm tired of hashing out the hopelessness i feel in me.

I have to trust that the Lord can work through this mess of me. I'm not the Charissa anymore that displays an incredible amount of leadership and faith like during the bible school years. I'm not the Charissa who faithfully prays for the Lord to change the hearts of the ones she deeply loves with vigor and certainty. i'm not the Charissa who always felt like like there was more to give.

In many ways, i feel more like my a real person, myself in my rawest form, and it's not a beautiful sight. I'm closely aware of my fears and my failures that i ever have been. The reality of Christ in my life is powerful, and smaller and bigger than i've ever really understood before. I don't feel put together, and most days i feel like i'm barely hanging on at the hinges. I do question if the Lord has abandoned me, but somehow i'm simultaneously rooted in the truth that the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells richly, deeply, in me. I know that the Lord is using this time in my life intentionally. That somehow this hopeless job, this hopeless season, all this crushing uncertainty actually means something with intrinsically more value that i am able to understand. The last several years have been the means to some end - and i have to keep believing that for my own sanity.

I'm not praying for change anymore. I'm not even praying for the Lord to give me the strength and perseverance to walk through this season well. I think i might be beyond ever deserving the title of 'well'.  I pray the Lord would continue to reveal himself to this ragged, rugged heart of mine. And he is. In finishing races. In morning sunshine. In births of beautiful bundles of promises. I am choosing to believe these things are just snapshots of what He has for me, and hoping for my own sake to let them sink in and make some difference in my everyday living.

I don't feel special or precious or worthy or pretty or valuable. My flesh is fighting my Spirit and my heart feels slashed within the middle. I feel very mediocre and i want to learn how to feel differently.

There is a quote out of an old book i love. Spoken by Josephine March. " I am not afraid of storms for i am learning to sail my ship." I'm not fearless in my confidence right now, but i know that i am  indeed learning.  and right now, that's all i can ask for.

I find a lot of beauty and life and encouragement in the small and simple things these days.

As one of my 2014 goals, I decided to spend more time cooking. Now to be fair, i haven't actually cooked a lot of anything, but i have spent a lot of time looking at cook books and magazines and online eating blogs as if i was that committed to carve time out of my days to actually salt and pepper and prep and bake and make. Its strange though because i find a peace and solace and reassurance that life will be fine by simply looking at food. So as it is Sunday, my day off and a day of rest, I am going to make some soda bread...if i don't spend too much time on my computer.

The simplicity of food and cooking and taking time has lead to really looking how i can simplify the other areas of my life that feel like they are sucking me dry. In the last years i have had a pretty interesting anxiety complex which transcends most areas of my life and most of my writing. My view of the past, my view of my job and normal job related challenges, seasons and weeks of dating and seasons and weeks of singleness, trying to find purpose and meaning in the everyday of being in the middle of my twenties when everything feels and looks unsettled.

I've now been in therapy for a little over two months. Its another thing to check off my 2014 list - lighten up and live with five events i never thought i would do. There is something highly helpful about having someone ask a series of 'right' questions pertaining to different areas of my life. It's incredibly reassuring to hear from someone else that is completely objective in your life "you are not crazy" and that she can see the hand of loving Jesus strong and surely. It's been a beautiful time of continued healing and release, learning to let go of the need for control over my life and circumstances.

She lead me through a prayer time on my lest session that is going to sound quite bizarre - it was called conception to birth prayer. essentially, she prayed over each month of my development as a baby using scripture - mostly psalms 139. Throughout the months she prayed against any strongholds of fear or anxiety and prayed for the freedom in Jesus to flow through every area of my life. Since that session a week ago, i have experienced a freedom from the panic and anxiety i have felt for so many months pertaining to my future, or perceived lack of it. I have felt a little more fullness, a little more excitement and hope towards whatever is ahead, far more certain that I have purpose and that this season of nothingness is extremely significant. More sure that i belong to Him, that I'm wanted and delighted in. A little more satisfied in this season of work and growth and cooking (even if it's a bit imaginative) and training for my marathon. A little more willingly to take myself less seriously, and to drop a few highly placed expectations.

I can't describe this very well,  but its like the Lord has literally picked me up and is moving me the right direction. It's not because i did anything right, but probably more because i was going the wrong direction. I feel more loved by the Lord Jesus in these last weeks than i ever have. I feel more hopeful and ceratin of an unforeseeable future.

I know this seems like a leap from all of that, but another huge step in release and freedom has been a conscious decision to quit Bridgetown, the church ive been attending downtown Portland since i moved here.  It's given me a chance to step away and evaluate what the Lord would have for me and ask of me in this area of my life. I think this is a season of letting Jesus really fill me - not church or church activities, or church people per say. It's a season where I shouldn't be giving or pouring out. This is a season to really let the Lord refresh all the brokenness and revive the dryness in my soul. I love the church, but i've never been one to be a sideline church goer, and it's been so painful these last months to sit in church where i'm told from the pulpit to give or prepare to give and not be in a place that I can. Giving myself permission to take a step back from it all has been so life giving. Its almost allowed me to really concentrate on the relationships that are already around me, and to concentrate on rest.

I write these things today in the middle of my day off in which I conveniently have no plans or commitments. I have fuzzy socks over painted toes, hair up and pajamas on. It's 4pm in the afternoon, and i'm listening to Phil Wickham, and about to draw a bath with a book written by a woman whose walked with Jesus for a very long time. She made it, and she's sharing her reflections with me. The ingredients for soda bread scatter the counter, and the dishes from my lunch are unscrubbed in the sink. This is me at rest, this is me being refilled, this is me at peace and me at joy. This is me taking a quiet moment away from the chaos of my job, and chaos of all the relationships that need to be checked up on. The apartment is quiet and lonely and completely fabulous.

Today i am happy. Nothing overly special, just a day that I'm more sure the Lord is for me, that He is greater than whats against me, that He delights in me, and that my life has purpose.

This is me healing. This is me knowing change is coming. This is Jesus working tangibly in my life.

To 2014 and 25

Not sure if this is true of others experience, but turning 25 has felt like a severe replay of puberty. A looming state of heavy, heavy, heavy, confusion, a body that is adjusting to the training it takes to run 26 miles, hormones and emotions rampant and wild. Phases of freedom and security,  phases of volatile insecurity. Although this time in life is exciting and liberating to what life looked like in previous seasons, without question, the last several years have been the hardest and most miserable I've ever known.

Navigating the job world and the dating world and the self-discovery/self-esteem world was something I wasn't ever really prepared for. Mostly because it had always come easily and/or I had no idea how easy I really had it. But now, it's just been......well.....its certainly been something. Perhaps one day, when I'm on the other side of this season of life, I will have some wisdom and insight worth sharing.

As a woman who has tried and succeeded and failed and felt close and felt a million miles in her relationship with the Lord, many of those extremes experienced in the last couple weeks, I forced my self to get away, to take a timeout. Away from a job that seems hopeless, away from examining a future that feels hopeless, away from myself which lives out hopeless....just away and permission to not carry the weight so personally, so closely. So I tossed some clothes and a candle and half a bottle of my favorite sauvignon cabernet, and headed to the beach. A little b&b with my deck overlooking the ocean and a Jacuzzi tub - I was in great shape. I journaled, read, cried, journaled some more, watched a movie, napped, walked the beach to the point my face was wind burned, slept, and took 4 baths all within a 16 hour span. On a complete side note, bloated starfish totally freak me out. All that to say, it was the first time in a while that I had taken so much time to myself, and I discovered that the Lord had so much to say.

I'm relearning how to be alone. It doesn't come natural to me anymore. There is a deep fear within me who loudly suggests that to not be intentional about moving forward means that you are moving backwards, failing, and causing inevitable regrets down the road.  The fear is intrinsically attached to my identity - a product of the western culture I am submersed in. If I'm not part of something big or established - an important role at work, and key player at church, actively involved in leadership of some capacity - I am nobody. I question and struggle and wonder where and how to find the parity between God's grace and sovereign hand in guiding my life, and my own initiative and choice to explore and try new things and the ability to ask the right questions. That balance has, wrongly or rightly, kept me exhausted the last several years, much more so in the last months.

I find myself to be quite elusive these days. Floating in and out of different versions of myself, inconsistent at best, discovering who I am, and longing to stand on ground that feels so far away. There are days I'm proud of this journey - when I feel skinny and free and like a brand new purple purse just changed my world. And there are also days when the work outs take a turn for the worse, when I feel completely behind, and awkward with plenty of clumsy, and truly slow at life. The core of this is an inability to make peace with who I am in holistically, and a state of gracelessness to not having answers as to why I can't seem to work things out.

And so, on the eve of a milestone birthday, I am again tempted to wrestle with this. These ideas of not being enough, pretty enough, smart enough, interesting, or talented or inventive enough. I choose to cling to these words out of Ephesians today

¹⁴ For this reason I kneel before the Father, ¹⁵ from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. ¹⁶ I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷ so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, ¹⁸ may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, ¹⁹ and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
²⁰ Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen

I long to experience these words. Rooted. Established. Strength flowing into my inner being. Christ dwelling richly. To be filled with the fullness of God. To know love that surpasses all understanding, all chaos. To grasp the truths that I so desperately want my heart to soak in.

These are beautiful words that evoke the pain out my heart today.

There is more happening within the undercurrents of my life than I am aware of.

This year, my 25th year of life, I want to be marked by learning to celebrate. To celebrate the small, the large, the areas of life I see moving and God guiding. To celebrate with good food, and good wine, and good friends. I want this year to be remembered as the year I learned to be - the discipline of ruthless, and sometimes violent, trust that the Father, who cares for me and sees me, actually takes notice of me and has a plan for my small life I can't see. Learning to let my soul be well with not figuring "it" out, whatever it may be. To learn to be alone and content within my own skin - to be comfortable within this mess and longing and groaning that marks everything I see. This I call to mind and therefore have hope: that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. The God of the universe has made no mistake.

Something deep in me, a truth that clings to every fiber of my being completely not of my own accord, keeps me at rest in the violent restlessness. And that is this; He has done all things well.

Here's to another year my friends. The goodness of God does indeed dwell here.