Day 115

For the last week and a half I've lived in my parents' living room on an air mattress.  I packed up most of my suitcase tonight.  I spent the day dreading the night, and the night dreading tomorrow morning.  I don't want to leave.  My spirit is so low.  My heart hurts so much.  I look into the eyes of my parents, and almost start to cry.  Folding laundry, and sitting cross-legged on the floor in quietness, on my last night here, my thoughts went from sad to aggressive to meloncholy.  And so I started a conversation with God.

God, can I move home now?

No.

Why?  Please...I really miss my family.

No.

I don't think you understand.  Dad is getting old, Mom misses me, Steven needs me, I miss my friends...I actually want to be here.  Can I move home?  Please?

No.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.  Why not?!

Because you're not ready.

Not ready for what, God?  You're not making any sense.  I've been a believer now for two years and fully gave my life to you a year ago, and now I'm spending a year truly dedicating myself to You.  How am I not ready?

Because if you moved home, you would lose Me.  You're not strong enough yet.

Then why did you let me come at all?  If You knew I wasn't strong enough, if You knew I wouldn't be moving back...why let me come all the way out here, fall in love with my family, only to send me back to Memphis?

Because you needed to have another perspective, another reason to be motivated to live within my love.  It's not enough in the plan I've designed for you to just love strangers.  You did that, you do that well.  But you had no heart for your family.  There was love, but you had nothing to believe in.  Now this love of yours is fueled by something personal.  New relationships.  You love your father, your mother, your brother like you haven't before.  A renewed sense of love for them has captivated your heart.  Is it not new?

Yes, okay, I see what you're saying...

But you're still worried about time.  Worried about being here to save your family.  You can't dwell upon that for too long.  Be motivated.  Keep them in your heart.  Come back to Memphis.  Live for Me.  Learn more.  Delve deeper.  And then let me send you home with a knowledge that won't leave you, with a love that won't be diminished.

...

You want to be with your family, and I understand that.  I love that.  But...you're also in a place that doesn't feed you spiritually.  You're stronger than you were, but not strong enough to be at this place yet.  I need you to come back, to jump in, to be all that I have set for you to be in Memphis.  You need to grow more before...before I bring you back here.  You need to be able to give your testimony without fear.  And though you should not argue My Word with nonbelievers, I need you to know it, to have it in your heart for when those conversations do come.  So you can testify and tell in love and absolute truth.  You can't doubt yourself, or My message, or that I am God...  You're not there yet.

...

I know you're sad, and you're broken-hearted.  It's not easy to leave.  But you will return.  This is for you.  For your family, my love.  My tender-hearted soul.  And though I feel the burning inside your heart for your family, let it be used to inspire you...to keep you near to them and to Me.  The faster you find me, the faster you come back to them.  Be hopeful.  Be loving.  Be kind.  And be broken-hearted...for when you're broken-hearted that means a piece of you stays behind, reminding you why you're pushing forward.  I love you.

Day 114

God, please.

I never thought I would say this, but I don't want to leave.

Please slow down time.  Please stop time.  Please let me stay in this moment.

Please, please, please, please let me stay.

I loved having breakfast with my dad.  He opened the door for me.  We sat in a booth, eating hashbrowns and eggs, talking about life.  There were awkward moments at first where I didn't know what to say.  I still feel like I'm five years-old when I'm around him, and the toughest part was talking to him as an adult.  But when I did, it was an amazing feeling to sit across from him and share in his wisdom.

He talked of grandpa, his past with mom, my brother's life, my life...we talked about his feelings.  His heartattack, his decisions, his love for his family, his mom and dad, and Grandpa Jack.  I talked about the possibility of me not having children, not being married, and about it being okay to just give him "grand-puppies."  I asked of his sacrifices as a father and a husband.  We paid, and donated to the UC Davis Children's Hospital.  "Jim & Jamie."  And brought home a truffula tree seed for Mom.  And we drove out to his cannery.  Or at least what used to be his cannery.  We talked of Grampa Jim.  His trailer.  Why he decided not to live with Mom and Dad.  How much he loved me.  His choices for his life...and how we all make choices.

And when we came home it was time for Mom.  I took the keys, and ushered her into the car without revealing where we were headed.  When we pulled up to Village Nails, she knew.  She knew and she was tickled...or maybe she was terrified.  I held her hand and we walked into the salon where she didn't kick anyone in the face.  I kept looking at her from my seat...just so happy to see her happy.  From there we drove to Sakura and bought seeweed, and beancakes, and crackers, and Japanese juice drinks.  And then after that we took her to Peet's, because I thought she'd enjoy raspberry flavored coffee.  And then we shopped a little.  That's something we never did when I grew up.  I was too much of a brat.  And I made her try on things she would never try on.  And I tried on things.  And we shopped.  And we enjoyed each other's company.

And on the way home she said, "I will remember this day forever."

Then as a family we ate at Pho Saigon Bay, which ironically Dad wanted to try weeks ago, but Mom said no.  They tasted new food.  And after eating heartily and leaving happily, we walked over to Tutti Frutti where Dad had sugar-free strawberry and...

...and I don't want to leave.

I don't want to leave.

For the first time I want to stay.

I want to be a part of their lives.

I want to be around.

I don't want to not be here.

I don't want them to die without me having put in every effort humanly possible to love them.

I don't want them to die unsaved.

I don't want another moment to pass where I can't see my mom smile, or hear my dad laugh, or listen to another of Steven's jokes.  And my grandma...my grandma who is so sweet and shopped for clothes for me and loves me so much.

How can I leave this?

God, change my life.  Change something.  Please bring me peace about leaving, because I'm about to fall to pieces.  Please....do something with these feelings.  Please, please, please...my heart is breaking, and I can't take it.

Day 113

If anyone were ever to come to me and ask me just what I think of Stockton, California, I wouldn’t be able to tell them fast enough what a terrible place it is.

There is little-to-no opportunity for anything.  Life is unaffordable.  Crime is rising.  Law enforcement is dwindling in numbers.  Schools are failing.

I would never in a million years suggest that anyone live in Stockton.

With that being said, I find it difficult to believe that this has been one of the most extraordinary weeks of my life.

I’ve enjoyed being home…in Stockton.

I’ve enjoyed seeing friends from high school.  I like being less than two hours away from San Francisco.  I love being near my family.  I love reconnecting with old friends.  I’ve enjoyed the vast diversity of cultures here.

In pushing away so much of my past I pushed away memories of some of the good things.

And for as long as I’ve been a Christian I’ve looked at Stockton with my nose turned up, saying, “There’s no God in this city.”

Sitting in church today, I felt God there.  Moving.  Just because I hadn’t felt Him before while living in Stockton, I was making the unfair assumption that nobody else knew Him either.

I watched the people around me while they sang.  All types of Asians.  Mexicans.  Different socioeconomic classes of white.  All singing together.

I met a couple today.  Russ and Tracy.  By the pastor, we were told to rate ourselves on a scale of how close to God we really were…Russ looked at me, a complete stranger, and admitted he had only been at a ‘2’, putting on the mask of busy-ness.  He told a stranger, honestly, where he was in his walk with Christ.  How many people in the Bible Belt would admit the same?  Claiming myself to be at a ‘6’ I was even embarrassed to say that number outloud.

So within this week I’ve discovered much...about this city, about the people in it, about myself.

What I haven't discovered yet is...where do I go from here, God?  

Day 112

I felt like I was in the palm of God’s hand as the sun set on the pier.

Alone, I watched the oranges mingle with the pink hues, warm colors blending into the cool night sky.

The ocean water reflected the remaining sparks of light, and soon these sparks were only glitters of the lights of the city.

Appreciating the majesty of the scene spread before me, I walked slowly to my car, drinking in every moment.  I knew it could very well be another year before I would be able to see again the wonders of the bay at twilight.

On the drive home from San Francisco, I thought thoughts to myself, contemplating, for the first time, the reality of moving back to the state I so deeply swore in which I’d never again live.

As I drove east on 580 crossing the stretch between Pleasanton into Livermore, a second ocean spread before me.  It was an expanse of sparkling amber and iridescent diamonds.  Rubies freckled the earth and the far reaches of the landscape drew me back to the years of my childhood.  I was driving down through the valley at night.  My family and I had made this same trip several times before.

The horizon shimmered before me, beckoning me with these tender memories.

And all at once the tears came.  My thoughts were indecisive, and too overwhelming.  Lyrics of a poignant, sad song filled my temples, my heart erupting in a chorus of confusion and pleas to God to light my path—His path for me.

The span of jewels blurred.  Leave California?  Easy enough.  Leave my family?  Tougher every year.

Instead of being held captive by the city below, I was bound by my memories.

And the sadness I felt was a reflection of the realization that future memories are limited.

I only have so much time left to make memories with my family.  How can I justify living 2,000 miles away from them any longer?

Through the dark hills, the lights drew me closer into the city, all the while losing their magnetizing luster.

The ocean of sparkles turned into streetlamps and taillights lit the road to my childhood home.  Like a landing pad for a plane, the sight drew me in.

If home is where the heart is, the question remains, just where is my heart?  And where are the lights bound to lead it?

Day 111

I don’t want to leave.

Sitting here in my dad’s recliner, watching the hummingbird feeders in the backyard sway against the wind, I don’t want to leave.

I have always felt divided between worlds.  Loving my family, wanting to be close to them, and wanting to experience the world, loving them from afar.

And it is in this moment that I want to stay with them.

I want to be near them, to love them, to listen to them, to have my heart fed with who they are.

This trip has been extraordinary, and not because of anything we’ve done, or because we’re suddenly an extraordinary family—because we’re not.  We’re simply who we are.

But my love for them has been magnified in a way that I’ve never before experienced.

God has opened my eyes and my heart to loving them, so completely, so fully, so compassionately.  Mom still complains, Dad is still impatient, Steven is still…Steven.  But the love I have for them is different and I’ve been able to experience them in such a different way.

Because of God and how He has changed my heart.

I can love them like I’ve never been able to, pushing through the negativity, the impatience, the handicap.

Precious.

This is a precious time, and with each passing day I grow both sadder and happier.

Day 106

It was 1997 when I would meet my best friend.

It wouldn't be long after the beginning of our friendship when she would invite me to church for the first time—and would continue to invite me to services and events despite my continuous rejection of the church and the God it believed in.  She would prove to be the most patient person to ever walk into my life.

As much as I would continue to indulge in a life of sin, as much as I never wanted to believe her beliefs, she would continue to love me.  And she would never stop trying.  More importantly, she would never change to suit my disbelief.

My rejection never stopped her from attending church, nor would she halt delving further into her Bible.  My disbelief never changed her belief or stopped her from loving God.  She remained steadfast.

For over a decade, she continued to love Him while simultaneously loving me, her godless friend.  For fourteen years, she loved me as I was, a deep sinner who was very much of the world.  And it would be over a span of 10 years and while 2,000 miles apart that the seed she planted years before would be cultivated and developed, God finally beginning to stir my heart.

After accepting Christ as my Lord and Savior, I expected immediate conversion from my family.  Living in a culture of immediate gratification, it is easy to feel as if I have failed.  I wanted them to immediately fall on their knees and cry out to God for grace.  Believe the Bible, love God, and live for the kingdom.  But that didn't happen.

What am I doing wrong?

This morning, I sat next to my best friend in a service of the same church of which she first invited me.  It was there, I realized her prayer for me had come full circle.  Where she started, where we started so long ago, she now had her best friend sitting next to her, singing songs of worship from an authentic heart.

A mere fourteen years later.

What she wanted fourteen years ago had taken fourteen years to cultivate, to come to fruition.

I sat, quietly realizing this.  It seemed like just yesterday I walked into that church on her coattails, terrified of hymns and terribly confused.  And it is with those same eyes that they look at me now, confused and skeptical.  But what they do not know is that this same confusion turned to clarity and skeptism to a scope much larger than the wiles and will of the world, being transfigured by a lens so large and so tinted with His everlasting love that He has become the only possible explanation for the equation.

So begins the longsuffering.  The steadfastness.  Led by a great example, my best friend serves as an example of His light. Even as strong and unyielding as she was, had she had expectations, these could have only led to disappointment.  Just as my expectations fueled disappointment.  No, instead she had hope.

And neverending hope is the greatest composer of any love song.

These passing days cannot be counted as losses to me and victories for the Enemy, but as one day closer to an eternity with God.

Be not dismayed by rejection for we cannot know what God has willed for the hearts after which He pines.  But we can pray.  We can be open.  And much more, we can hope.  For what is but fourteen years if it is in that time where eternity is found?


Thankful for my sister in Christ, and praying for the ones I love, that God may cultivate the hearts He formed to find Him once more.

Day 105

I think the challenge has become poisonous.

I look at my body, think of the stains, and how I've tainted myself, the disease within...  I think of my future, being my brother's forecasted caregiver, prospecting the sacrifices I'll have to make...

And within my heart, there is a sudden vow...

That I do not want to love.

I never want to love a man again.  I don't want any man to love me.

For if he does, his self-sacrifice will have to be so very great, too great.

I can't ask anyone to give up that for me.  I can't ask anyone to reconsider their health, or to not have children, or to care for another man in such an intimate way.

Who would I have?

Who would have me?

No one.

And so, this heavy heart of mine concludes that the best thing, the easiest thing, is to close my heart to the faint hope of love, and to come to grips with the path I've laid for myself and the path that's been laid for me.

The love of God must sustain me, for anything less would be asking someone to sacrifice their life for a life with me.

And no one should have to walk with me through this.

Day 104

• Loving my family has come easier than I anticipated.
• At this point I don't believe I'm meant to be married or have children.
• I understand now why God has made me focus on SELF-SACRIFICE my entire life.
• I don't believe my life in Memphis will be the same as I left it.
• I really am looking forward to Disneyland with my family.
• I miss having cats.
• My cat slept with me for the first time since I first adopted her almost a decade ago.
• Choose friendships wisely.
• Choose battles wisely.
• Understand who is in your life now may not mean to be there forever.
• Love those people anyway.
• Relish every moment you are alive.
• And realize every day brings you closer to God in more ways than one.

Day 103

Things I’ve Learned About Me

I am not intelligent.  I don’t possess much common sense.  What I lack in IQ I make up for in compassion, kindness, and patience.  I love animals, babies, children, seniors, and can only tolerate teenagers.  I respect those who have blue collar jobs more than those with white, but am slowly letting go of my prejudices against them.  I love writing, graphic design, traveling, and seem to admire the mechanics of these just as much as the journey and destinations.  I love the taste of food just as much as I love the sight of the countryside, mountains, and big cities.  But I love the feel of clothes more than how aesthetically pleasing they are to others.  I have always dreamed of being the woman who looks amazing in just plain white t’s and jeans rather than the extravagant, chic fashionista.  If I could go back and if it were acceptable, I’d train to be an auto-mechanic…or a world traveler.  Gulf Shores, AL, stole my heart and I hope one day it’s passed onto Rome.  My greatest achievement is loving others with a love I never knew before I was 25, and my greatest struggle is loving others with that same love.  Jesus has hijacked my heart, using it over a span of 2,000 miles and almost two years.  I feel closest to him when I’m flying a red-eye flight, standing in the ocean at midnight, or seeing someone cry tears of sadness, brokenness, and/or joy.  Maybe one day I’ll be published…maybe I won’t.  My life is but a vapor in the wind and today I vow to ride the current wherever it may take me in the name of God, those I love, and those I have yet to meet.

Change.  Pray.  Worship.  Love unceasingly.

Day 101

Spending Valentine’s Day by myself.  I wouldn’t have it any other way this year.

As more of my friends start dating and get married, I’m realizing how precious this B.D. time is.  And by B.D. I mean Before Dating time.  Because when B.D. is no more, things change.

“Let’s go grab coffee,” turns into, “I can’t, I have a date tonight.”  Instead of, “Let’s have dinner,” it’s, “I already have plans with my [insert significant other here].”  And no more, “Let’s go grab a beer and shoot the breeze,” because that’s replaced with, “I need to spend time with my boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife.”

There are many things that end when new relationships start.  And I’m not saying that’s bad.  It just is. 

The chemistry of the friendship won’t change, but the dynamic will.

And while I complain about being single, God is consistently reminding me, “Wait!  You’re missing out on good stuff right now complaining about what you don’t (think) you have.”

And as 100 lilies landed in my hands on Monday, I realized that if I had a man I would be missing out on countless opportunities to love my friends and let my friends love me.  Because it’s not that we don’t need friends, but once we’ve solidified our life with another person, we don’t need them in the same way.

That being said...

Treasure your singleness.

Treasure the time you have as a single friend with a single friend, because it will never be the same when one or both of you start dating.

Be inspired to love others now.  Friends don’t have the same obligation as significant others to buy dinners, or roses, or jewelry, or coffee, or offer to drive.  We don’t have to wait for the boyfriends or girlfriends to come into our lives to love and be loved.

I do not have a good memory, but the things I do remember are the moments that friends, in all innocence and purity, honored me and made me feel special.

What would you do if your friend bought your dinner?  Or surprised you with flowers?  Or your favorite candy?  A fun trip somewhere?  Or a night out on the town?  Or just bought your coffee?

Do it.  They’re not expecting it.  And take advantage of this time in your life to hone in on your love skills.  You will never have more time or be less motivated, but you’ll never be sorry to have been a blessing to someone.

(And if you love a friend like this now, imagine how much practice you’ll have gained for your future spouse.)

Be less about you and more about other people.  When you do things not to get anything in return, there will be an abundance of joy in your life that is unable to be duplicated.

Day 100

The last few days two weeks I've woken up thinking:

You know, I just don't feel like being alive today.


And not in a suicidal way, but in a way that I just don't feel like going through life.  I feel...weak, resigned, distant, meek, and exhausted.

Exhausted is a perfect way to describe me.

I feel like I've been on auto-pilot for the last few weeks.  Doing everything mechanically, like a robot.  Oversleep, be mad I oversleep, drive through horrendous traffic to get to work, coming home, taking care of dogs, laying down, not being able to get a full night's sleep.  All to repeat it.  Smiling rarely throughout it all.  The joy of precious moments is stolen from me.

My joy has been fleeting.

How do I hang onto it?

Sunday was the peak of this feeling for me.  I could barely muster a smile.  I couldn't even fake one.  I couldn't bear to smile or laugh or listen.

All of those required too much energy.

And the last few nights I've been happy just staring at a wall.

A wall has become my entertainment.

What has come over me?  What is this funk?  Not to mention my body is quitting on me in more ways than one.  I feel like I'm disappointing people by not being able to spend time with them.  I've been single for a 100 days.

I've been single for a hundred days.

I would have rejoiced at this day a few weeks ago.

God, where has my joy gone?  And what is this foul emotionlessness that has replaced it?

I miss the old me.  I miss the joy brought by loving You.  But I still love You.  So why am I so stoic?  So empty?  So zoned out?

What is wrong with me?

Day 98

It was the room I remembered from my early childhood.

The blue paint, the matching nightstands, the bed placed against the wall under the window.  It was my parents’ old master bedroom.

My father was dying, and like a version of Minority Report, we already knew when and by what means it was going to happen.

It was his heart.

He was in so much pain.  His eyes filled with tears.  I sat kneeling next to the bed, holding his hand.  I was panicking.

I have 17 seconds, I thought.

He saw my eyes shift toward the phone.

“Why try?” he gurgled, his voice sputtering from pain.

“Because I have to!”

I had never dialed 911 before, so I listened intently as my finger pressed the last number.  A pause, and then the recorded operator picked up.

A recording?

“You are number 73 in waiting,” her monotone voice buzzed.

I dropped the phone, exasperated, and began weeping.  I held my father, and waited, precious seconds ticking down to the end of his life.

I felt a dark shadow smirk from the bathroom.  Through tears, I couldn’t make out its identity, but I knew it was not of God.  And as it leered, I continued to sob.

Needless to say, this dream terrified me.  Friday morning, my alarm woke me from that plane, and sent my heart into mourning.

Daddy’s little girl.  Sometimes this term houses irony.

Nobody’s words have cut as deeply as his have, and this is spawned by my deep love for him and deep aching to be loved by him.

As a father wanting more for his daughter, his desire for her to be ambitious and self-dependent grew in her a heart broken from unsatisfaction and a supposed inability to attain.

My efforts were never enough.  Congratulations were never just congratulations, but instead just a car on a train tailed by a caboose of, “Now what?”

Now what?

There was always something I could improve upon.  Always just one step closer.

One step closer to what?

As if one day I would reach something where accomplishing would no longer be had.

Never being good enough…

And this is where my heart has turned now instead…

To one father I will never be good enough.

And to The Other I will certainly never be good enough.

But it is by The Other’s unfailing grace, love, and faithfulness, that I can embrace not being good enough.

For if I ever beheld that I was good enough, everything that is good would fall from my life and I would forsake the most precious gift.

And it is by such a gift that when I go back to California, I can love the first father I knew with the love of The Second, who is really second to none, but the Number One Who has stolen my heart and protects it, redeems it, sustains it, believes I can be who He has called me to be.

And so I am his daughter.  The one who was hurt.  The one forgotten, and never encouraged, and never congratulated.  But because I am His, a new love exists and one so powerful that I am willing to fight for my family like I haven’t before.

And so, I begin in baby steps.  I cannot love my father unless I know father.  And as this thought reverberated in my core today, God placed a simple book at the tips of my fingers as I perused the walls of Francesca’s, the most unlikely of places—I assumed—for the Hand of God.

Scrolling through its pages, I imagined some of the answers I could hear.  I pray that this opens doors for my relationship with him, and that whatever hurt abided is flushed away, leaving healing to grow and flourish in its depleted place.

ACTION PLAN PA:            Share an afternoon at IHOP, relive old memories of his day at the cannery.  If the weather and season permit, plant a plant in his garden.  Ask him to write in this compilation, of which of his all his gifts bestowed upon me would be his greatest yet; discuss it.

Day 94

Boy, dance with me, feel my body

Don't stop just come closer to me

While we grind to the beat

With your body touching my body

Get Me Bodied, Beyonce

I love music.

Maybe a little bit too much though, because every time I hear it, my body starts moving.

And so does my mind…but in all the wrong ways.

It’s been almost a year since I’ve been to a club.  And it’s mostly because I know if I go I will backslide into someone I don’t want to be.

Dancing isn’t just dancing.  It leads my mind elsewhere.  Skin against skin.  Body against body.  Movement.  Friction.  Tension. 

Temptation.  The temptation to go further is overwhelming.  And if your eyes cause you to sin…right?  Cut it out!

And there’s not only an element of lust, but of pride.

I feel a lot of power captivating a man’s attention in a sexual way.  For over a decade, that’s how I validated myself.  And that has been so hard to break.  And I’ve noticed myself slipping these last few days.

But those things in me aren’t of God.

This is insecurity.  This is impatience.  This is my heart wanting to be filled and falling back on what used to give it a high.

Noooooooooooooooo more.

Lauren gave me Redeeming Love as a Christmas-half birthday-three month mark gift.  An adaption of the Hosea and Gomer love story, it tells of Angel, who is a young girl resigned to a life of prostitution.

“Angel hated her life…most of all she hated the men for their relentless quest for pleasure.  She gave them her body but not a particle more.  Maybe there wasn’t any more.  She didn’t know.  All they saw was her beauty…they wanted her in the same way they wanted the gold in the streams.  They lusted for her…”

There is more!  There’s more to me than just that, and I never believed that before. 

I think women succumb all too easily to believing sex is the only thing that will make a man love them, validate them, make them happy—no!

Things are different now, Jamie.

Lust is not the way.  Stay strong.  Persevere.  Happiness will abound.  Joy is already present.

God, remove this burden from my heart.  Bring me to a place where I’m stronger than this.  Redeem dancing for me one day.  Let it be a thing of fun, and not validation or sexuality.  Let me press on through my lustful and prideful spells, remembering You and moving on from the past.

Day 93

I stood in front of 30 people, my words slurred and eyes swollen.

Two years earlier, my brother was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia, and it was the day before my public speaking final in college that he had his first violent episode.  Him missing a day’s worth of medication would leave me with a bruised face, a split lip, and a humiliating final exam.

My presentation lasted less than 15 minutes, but my anguish and confusion would take years to heal.

The relationship between the two of us has always been strained, beginning when we were toddlers.  Our grandparents were taken from us by way of Cancer and alcoholism.  Our parents fought endlessly.  We were constantly bullied at school.  Neither of us had an easy childhood, but his was far worse.

He had an abusive sister whose battered spirit was self-medicated by inflicting deeper wounds on a child three years her junior.  Tormenting him, bullying him, and fighting with him and against him.

That’s not what big sisters are supposed to do.

Saturday was his 24th birthday.  And as our mom handed him the phone, I felt so blessed to hear the joy in his voice when he knew who was on the other end.

It is nothing short of a blessing that he loves me.  I look at the trinkets he has sent for birthdays and reread the cards written for holidays, and feel a deep sadness that pools in the pit of my heart.  I can’t imagine how I deserve any of his love.

The last five years I’ve pushed him away, and I’m just now realizing that it’s not because of what he did, but because of what I did to him.  The guilt of how I treated him keeps me from him.  Selfishness keeps me from him.

Viewed as a sweet Christian girl now, my brother is a piece of my past that reflects a very evil heart.  I tore apart the one who needed me the most.  How can I be good?  How can people love me when I’ve done such evil things to someone who I was supposed to love?

My pride keeps me from him, because I’m reminded of who I was.  Unforgiveness keeps me from him, because I can’t forgive myself for the past.

And yet, when I return to California I know that he’ll be the first one to rush to the escalator to hug me.  I know he’s the first to defend me.  I know he’s the first who will love me for everything I am.

My brother has a past filled with monumental hurt, and yet he still loves.  He has forgiven me for my transgressions, so why am I still tethered to them?

God died for our sins.  He died for what’s been done to me.  And He died for what I did to my brother.  And if I’ve been forgiven, then, to honor God, to honor my brother, my flesh, my blood, I must live like I’ve been forgiven.

This time I have an opportunity to love him like I’ve never before been able.  Though the past cannot be remade, it can be redeemed.  

God, please let past pain be used as encouragement for a new relationship.  Let me show my brother true love.  Let me be a sister of love, kindness, humility, patience, and complete self-sacrifice.  Help me fight the urge to run and let me show him Your love.

ACTION PLAN BRO:         Talk to him about our past, fully understand his perspective.  Take him for a drive, because he used to love driving on the interstate.  Stop at Lifeway, because he loves books, and see if anything is sparked within him while we’re there.  Tell him how much I love him, and how God has changed my life with him being in it.

Day 92

This morning I woke up in Little Rock, Arkansas.

The night before April and I left Memphis en route to visit our friend and share in her special day!  We had an easy drive, and when we arrived in her and her husband’s new home, we chatted until about midnight.

The next morning I woke up refreshed.  April woke up early and departed to the living room, and I stayed in bed, dozing in and out of consciousness, and praising God for the beautiful sunshine flooding through the window.  It was a peaceful morning, and after I showered I walked out to meet our group in the living room with Tabitha reading the Jesus Calling entry for today.

@micaelafberry, wishing our quartet could be together!

With a warm cup of coffee in a fun green coffee cup, the sun beaming happily on every inch of the room, I was just filled with joy and happiness.

From there we went to Fellowship Little Rock, which is a pretty snazzy church.  A bookstore, a café, and plenty of seating, I was in awe.  April and I stood awaiting the baptisms about to take place, and I was super eager to see my friend in such a special moment.

Children filed up and were dipped in the pool after dedicating their lives to Christ.  And then there was Tabitha.

She and David entered the pool, and David introduced his wife to the crowd.  From there, she told the group of her life and her struggles and the joy she had found in following God’s path for her.  It was a beautiful moment, and then we watched as her husband dipped her in the water and brought her up, baptizing her for God.

Tabitha and I haven’t been friends for a long time, according to the world.  But as far as our walks are concerned, she is my best friend, my sister, my confidant, my trusted God-centered friend who is always encouraging and always edifying.  We been through some of the same struggles, as well as very different struggles, and there was something so satisfying and so joyful in standing there, watching my best friend give her life to God while the love of her life stood right beside her.

So much love.

To see the love in this world and to feel the love of Him, all in one place.

It was overwhelming, and filled me with hope and joy.  From there, we filtered into the space to listen to the sermon.  And we sang song after beautiful song, led by Drew Cline, whose voice I really loved.  And it was nice to be standing next to my best friend, singing again.  With life being as it is, ever changing, it’s been a long time since we’ve been side by side, singing to God.  Every part of this day was special.

When the sermon ended maybe an hour later, I was so filled with peace. 

And April and I started on our way back to Memphis.  It was a quiet ride.  Mostly because I was just overwhelmed with so much love, peace, and joy.  Such a beautiful day, with such beautiful people, and given to us by such a beautiful God.

I feel rejuvenated, and thankful, and more ready for my upcoming trip to California than I have been in the last month.

One trip down, one to go.

Hopefully my next will be just as meaningful an experience as this was.  Thank you, Tabs!  I love you!

Day 91

Do you dream?  I haven't lately, but last night I did.  Before I woke up this morning, I had a long, detailed dream.  It was of many things.  To set the stage, I was somewhere different.  I’m not sure where, definitely not in Memphis, but somewhere far, far away, where things were very, very different.  Painful.

·         Katie and I had gone to this theme park.  The theme for this park was a third-world country.  We stepped into a shop, and while Katie sat down to rest her feet, I went into a back wing of the shop, and heard the doors lock behind me.  It was me and few other guests inside, and I panicked.  I looked through the cracks and could see Katie, and began banging on the door and calling her name.  She looked over, confused, and rushed over to help me.  We cursed the storekeeper and left.  From there we ran into a group of our friends, and decided to have lunch somewhere.  Katie walked away to meet the friends who were already at the restaurant, leaving Patrick and I behind.  He and I didn’t really know where the restaurant was, but we knew we would have to the cross the center of town and to get to the less-crazy side of the park where everyone was meeting.  But in order to cross, you had to pass through a gladiator, whose job was to keep you in town.  And I remember thinking, “If this is what a third-world country is like, I don’t ever want to go, because I don’t even know if I can get out of here alive!”

·         I had a friend who was going through a difficult situation.  Every time I tried to reach out to her, she talked over me to someone else.  I was so discouraged.  And one day she and I met, and she began to tell me of her troubles and started crying, and I began to say something, and as I did, someone else came through the door and she sobbed to them, ignoring me.  As they spoke, I walked away, angry and sad, and even sadder, because she didn’t even care enough to notice me leaving her.  I was invisible.

·         I was feeling sick and something was wrong.  I was still in a different town, so I went to a doctor.  The doctor and nurse were before me.  And the young nurse began to tell me what was wrong, and the doctor hushed her, basically telling her not to tell me because he wanted to send me to a specialist so he could get more money for referring me.  With a smile and a nod, he gave me the name of a doctor, implicating it was a serious situation, and walked away.  The girl looked at me sad, and knew what he was doing was wrong.  She whispered to me what I had and what would easily fix it, but I couldn’t hear her!  Her whisper was too low!  And I didn’t want to ask her again for fear the doctor would hear her and fire her.  She began to walk away, and sang something about it being great when the “Holy Spirit moves in you.”  She placed her hand on a mood plaque on the wall, showing her risen pulse.  She felt like she had honored God, but I felt sad that I had let her walk away.

·         I was sitting in a writing class, being taught by Kirk Cameron.  I had a sense that he knew something was not right with this world we were in.  He was monotone and almost sad, but still passionate about writing.  Instead of taking notes, I watched his eyes, his movements, observing through his body language both his sadness for the world, but the hope that still remained.  I didn’t take any notes, even though I was excited about the class and enamored with Kirk, and instead I had a Connect Four sitting in front of me.  When he finished, he rose and walked out of the small room, not saying goodbye, but merely wandering away.

·         I met a professor in the hall, and talked to him for a moment about Kirk.  When he talked, he, too, was sad, and said that the world we were living in was an evil place.  Horrible things happen.  And he turned to the window and looked out. A specific event was taking place even as we spoke.  I could see down from our tall building and my heart broke.  A beautiful girl, who had been friends with many of the people in the circle now surrounding her, hung from a chain link around her neck.  She was positioned outside the cage, clinging to stay attached as it moved upward.  It was here she would die.  Either she would lose her grip and plummet to the earth, the chain hanging her, or as the cage moved upward, it would smash her against the ceiling.  As the cage drew near, a tall man, who I could tell had once been close with her, started to reach out, but his words were angry.  He spat, and punched her in the face, calling her a bitch.  He was antagonizing her, trying to make her lose her grip.  She struggled to the very moment she died.  As the ceiling drew near, I covered my ears and began to cry.  But even then I could her the pop of bones and her scream.  And then I heard one more pop, and it was over.

And then I woke up, hurting for this girl I had never met and who surely doesn’t exist…but existed for a moment in time in my dreams.  I relived everything I had experienced in the dream, and thanked God that it wasn't real...

Day 90

He really hurt my feelings tonight.

It's a good reminder that Christians aren't perfect.  Christians are imperfect, and we still hurt one another.

I felt like crying on the way home.

It was amazing how quickly I was hurt.

I don't know if this is what I get for loving people and letting them in so quickly.

And I know my reaction is to shut down and walk away.

If they're going to hurt me, I'm going to protect myself.


I just have to remind myself that people aren't perfect.  God forgave us.  So I need to move on.  My worth is in God and not anything anyone says about me, good or bad.

But it still hurts when a friend treats you inappropriately.

Day 89

A lull in my spirit tonight.

I hung out with two friends tonight, and when I got home I realized just why God puts so many amazing and different people in my life.

I need the friends who are hopeful, who tell me there is someone waiting for me.

But I also need the friends who can look at the other side, and promise me there's hope even if my future isn't what I want it to be.

I need both friends.

I need one for the hope of marriage, and I need one for the hope of a full single life.

God keeps putting amazing people in my life, because He knows exactly who I need to encourage me.

Not any two people are the same, and I'm lucky they're not, because I need all of my friends in all of their uniqueness to be the lights leading me to God in different ways.

I'm so lucky for these friends.  And I thank God for them every day.

Day 88

There were thunderstorms in my part of Memphis tonight.

I walked in the rain to my car, enjoying the cool drops on my skin.

As I drove home, I watched in awe as lightening flashed horizontally across the dark sky. 

And thought to myself, “Tonight would be a nice night to curl up in bed with my husband.”

One big problem?  I’m ahead of myself here.

The ache in me is so deep, and I think this is because somewhere, deep inside, I argue with myself.

Somewhere, deep down, there’s a voice telling me that I’ll never have that.

I’ll never have a husband.  I’ll never have someone to kiss my lips.  To laugh at stupid stuff with.  To hold my hand.  To curl up with me in bed.  To take romantic trips with.  To take fun trips with.  To intimately experience life with.

At work, customers ask me about my dating life aaaaaaaaall the time.

All the time, it’s brought to my attention how “sad and lonely it is for a pretty girl to be alone.”

Ugh.  First, they give me too much credit.  Secondly, don’t they know that I feel the same way?  Don’t they know I’m asking myself what is wrong with me that no one wants to love me?  Cherish me?  Respect me?  Believe me, customers, I’m hurting worse than you when you find out I’m single.  And just like you, there’s part of me trying to figure out what’s wrong.

One Year Challenge.  It’s more like Lifetime Resignation.

My heart has resigned to the idea of me being alone for the remainder of my life.

I’m not worth a husband.  I’m not worth love.

I have God’s love and that should be enough.  But it isn’t, God!  In my heart of hearts, I don’t trust Your will for me!

I don’t believe that my love life will be any different at the end of this year.  I do believe I’ll be changed…

…but by then this inescapable loneliness will have buried into an irretrievable place in my heart.

My heart still has a beat but love is now a feat

As common as a cold day in LA

Sometimes when I'm alone, I wonder

Is there a spell that I am under

Keeping me from seeing the real thing

Love Hurts, Incubus