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.