Day 147

It was last June that I made an agreement with God to be uncomfortable.

And by uncomfortable, I mean doing things I really wanted to do even if nobody else wanted to do them with me.  Like, going to see Disney’s Beauty and the Beast by myself, because no one else would go with me.

Today when my date to the wedding canceled, I was anxious.

By myself, God?  I know I told You I would put myself in uncomfortable situations, but this is different.  A wedding is personal—it’s not like a play.  I’m going to go and know absolutely no one.  I haven’t seen her in years, and You’re asking me to go to this wedding alone?  …okay.  I’ll follow You.

And so I dressed.  And I left my apartment, nervous.  Social situations always make me nervous.  So you can imagine how high my anxiety was at this point.

I drove down Walnut Grove to Houston Levee, and from Houston Levee turned on Raleigh LaGrange.  Most of my anxiety was lost when I roared down the curvy roads—something I love to do.  Not another car in sight.  A blessing and a gift!  God let me have some fun to cool my nerves.  Trees surrounded me.  Green was the only color I could see, and the path was beautiful.

Well, my GPS led me in the wrong direction.  I saw signs for a wedding at some point, but followed my misleading computer to a house.

Nooo, I’m pretty sure this isn’t it, GPS.  Where have you taken me?!  Aaahhh!

So I went back to the street where I saw the signs and followed it.  Ten minutes.  I had ten minutes to find my way to this mystery wedding, and I was quickly running out of time!

Where are you?  Maybe I should just turn around and go home!  Ugh, I would hate that!  All this effort just to turn around?  No!

And I’m glad I didn’t give up, because within the next minute I found myself at the location.  Still kind of lost, I rolled down my window to talk to a girl walking almost aimlessly.  Now if I had been with someone I wouldn’t have asked for directions, but because I was completely and utterly lost, I managed to ask, “Hey, can I ask you something?”  Yeah, I’m so suave.

She had her phone in hand.  “Yeah?”

“Are you going to Jessica’s wedding?”

She smiled and we made small talk about being lost.  She said I was headed in the right direction, and after I parked I noticed she was still outside.  She told me she was waiting on some friends, and I took this opportunity to introduce myself.

As I continued to talk and walk, I realized she was walking with me.

Yes!  I’m not going to be alone!  Thank You, God!  You delivered!

For a girl who has anxiety problems, this was a true gift from God to instantly make a friend on the way in.  And so we sat together for the rest of the service and when she left, I had befriended her friends, so I wasn’t alone ever.

And I enjoyed myself.  It was such a great day.

With the social aspect of the afternoon being taken care of, I was able to sit back, relax, and take in the beauty of it all.

I listened as the groom’s best friend sang Laura Story’s What a Savior.  I watched as they lit the eternity candle and shared their matrimonial kiss.  I watched as they joyfully danced down the aisle.  I watched as the bride broke out into an awesome dance with her dad at the end of their father-daughter ensemble to Safety Dance by Men with Hats.

The entire service was filled with so much goofiness, joy, and light-heartedness.

At the end of night, I saw the bride as I was leaving.  She hugged me and said, “I am so happy you came!  I was telling [the groom] I didn’t know if you would and I feel so bad because we haven’t had a chance to do anything with the dogs, but we’ll be home [then] and we can get together!”  And I walked to my car, feet as light as they’ve ever been.  And not just because of the wine!

Being comfortable only takes you so far.  Being uncomfortable stretches you!

Things I wouldn't otherwise do, I did them tonight, because I had to.  Getting lost, finding myself, asking for directions, meeting new people, dancing—God stretched me tonight.  And because I followed Him, I was given so much joy.  Driving down a beautiful road, meeting new people, hearing wonderful music, listening to a mini-sermon, watching two people proclaim their love, enjoying delicious food, talking to someone about their mission trip to Nicaragua, dancing to the always-awesome Cupid Shuffle, admiring a beautiful sunset, and, most importantly, and being okay.

Being okay in a situation that would have terrified me a year ago.

Uncomfortable can be transformed into comfortable when you trust God and let Him take the wheel.

I drove home from the wedding, happy and content, the wind playing through my hair.  My car perfectly traced the curvy road, and I sang Carrie Underwood songs at the top of my lungs.  Again, I was the only one on the street.

And as my headlights hit the rounds of trees, I felt so thankful.  Hope.  Reassurance.  Trust.  These were built today.  And I can’t wait to see what else God has up His sleeve.  In awe tonight, I think to myself just what my life would look like if I spent every day trusting Him and pushing myself.

Day 146

He’s different.

I don’t know if he’s saved or if he’s not.  I don’t know if he’s single or if he’s not.

But I do know as I’ve begun to see him regularly over the last few weeks, only in passing, that he is one of the few men who has been kind to me.

I can tell by the way he looks at me—because, let’s face it, as girls, sometimes we can tell—he’s, at the very least, attracted to me.  But he has never once made a tactless comment, a bold icebreaker, or insinuated anything inappropriate in word or way.

A shy smile and a kind word.

Gentle.

Yesterday was a really terrible day.  And even this morning I awoke, numb.

But even in the midst of this, God has been raising me.  Just a little bit, with little things.

Tomorrow I will be attending a wedding.  And I love weddings.

When I watch the bride walk toward the groom, I imagine what happiness it must bring to have found someone with whom you want to spend the rest of your life.

I look at the man at the end of aisle, almost in awe.  To see him commit, to love someone so dearly, that he would choose to promise the rest of his life, literally takes my breath away.

I imagine at some point he was gentle with her.  I imagine the first dates, the butterflies, the first kiss—everything that culminated to this moment.  To this kiss.

Tonight I watched The Notebook, and when Allie returns to the Noah, the woman he has been seeing, who is a war widow, realizes what they once had is over.

“I'd forgotten what it's like...for the first time since I lost Richard, I feel like I've got something to look forward to,” she says, her eyes teary.

And this is what weddings are for me.  A reminder that love still exists.  And that my story isn’t over.  At the end of my life, I may look back, no band on my left hand.  Or, maybe, I will belong to someone.

I don’t know, really.  All I do understand is that gentleness in a broken world is underrated.  And that maybe that is all for which my heart longs.

And wherever this is found, there will be love.

Last night, Tony Evans, pastor of Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship and author, said, “Don’t look for His plan—look for Him!”

And I see Him in those moments where gentleness is found.

Day 145

Hope is knowing your tomorrow is going to be better than your yesterday.
Tony Evans, Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship

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The Queen sat atop her hoisted chair, leg thrown over its arm.  She barely looked down at the girl, seemingly bored.  She smoothed her dress linens as if no one else was in the room.

The young girl looked on, not anticipating the coming conversation.

There was a moist smugness in her voice.  The Queen was beautiful.  Stunning, ravishing—the epitome of beauty.  Her textured crown lay adeptly on layers of raven hair.  Her ivory skin was perfectly powdered.  Gorgeous in semblance, but her spirit was darker than the onyx that hung in her diadem.  No light reflected in her empty eyes.

“Remember when you were but a child, and no one wanted you then?” she mused.

The girl shuddered, but nodded.

“Wasn’t it better then, alone?  You didn’t hurt anyone then.  You didn’t have anyone to hurt.  You saw the look in her eyes last night, you know what the others girls think of you.  Wasn’t it easier not having to worry about that?  Now you’re hurting people.”  She trilled her tongue.

Mara’s eyes met the floor.  She was right.  These new friendships in her life, she wasn’t capable of handling them.  She was better off alone, not hurting people.  It seemed like she couldn’t do anything right.

As if reading her thoughts, the Queen laughed, “You can’t be a friend, and you’re a terrible daughter.  You don’t do anything but hurt people.  You’re selfish, and worthless.  Moving 2,000 miles away for your own selfish gain, leaving your parents miserable.  What kind of daughter are you?”

She missed her parents.  Guilt from being so far from them had taken over her heart.  What the Queen said stung her deeply.  And she was right.  Selfish.  She was a selfish, little girl.  She knew they missed her, and she missed them, but it was not enough.  She was too selfish to return to them.

The Queen’s head finally turned toward her, and she shifted so that their eyes met.  Dark emeralds cast an unnerving shadow over her.  They were piercing, examining Mara, and calculating, considering every flaw, every imperfection.  “Tell me,” she hissed, “what’s good about you?”

Mara stuttered.  She wrung her hands, failing miserably trying to look composed.

“Well, I…I’m nice?”

“Nice?” she mocked her.  “What does that mean?  Child, you are lost.  You are a mess.  You’re unattractive, clumsy, dismally unintelligent, self-centered, and self-righteous.”  She paused, casting a debilitating glare towards the frail creature.  “No one could ever love you.”

With every word, Mara’s spirit sunk lower.  She’s right, I’m worthless.  Mara wilted on the marble floor, unable to keep from crying.

“I know the desires of your heart,” the Queen cooed.  “To be loved.  You want friends, a family, a husband, an eternal love…but what makes you think you deserve any of it?  Pure?  Never.  You’ve stained yourself.  Given yourself to a million.  They’ve walked over you your entire life.  And what’s worse, you don’t even have a high paying career to make up for what you lack.  Who would put up with you?  Who could want you?  Who could ever love you?  You have nothing and you are nothing.  Poor, hideous creature.  But you did do this to yourself…”  Her voice was like patronizing silk.

The Queen arose from her mantel, stepping gracefully down upon the girl.  She bent, kneeling so as to be face to face.  One of her hands cupped Mara’s face while the other’s fingers traced along her chin.  Mara was terrified.

“You’re not much to look at either,” he eyes intently examining Mara’s face.  A doctor giving a diagnosis.  Incurable.  Unfixable.  Unhealable.  “Your skin is terrible, your teeth are crooked, you’re obscenely overweight.  Really, who would want you as their wife?”

Mara pulled her face from the Queen’s hands.

“Don’t you pull away!  Look at me,” she seethed.  “You truly are worthless in every, single way.”

Mara was curled up, trying to block out the reality of everything she wasn’t.  But she knew it was true.  It was all true.  She wasn’t smart.  She wasn’t beautiful.  She wasn’t even loving.  She had hurt her friends and family in her selfishness.  What she thought was an act of protection, shielding them from her terrible life, was only disguised self-centeredness.  She was desperate, lowly, ugly, and completely worthless.  The Queen was right in every way.  She always was.

Mara began to weep.  I’m worthless.  The room felt deathly cold, and the darkness seeped in through her pores.

The Queen hovered, circling like a triumphant predator.  Her angry whispers filled the heavy air.

Ugly.

Stupid.

Incapable.

Worthless.

Unlovable.

Ugly.

Ugly.

Mara, you’re ugly.

You’ll never be anything to anyone.

After the last piercing blow, the Queen quieted and Mara sobbed.  Her body wracked with seizures.  The pain was all too great.  The limbo of darkness had pulled her into an inescapable realm of hurt.  Time escaped her as her tears continued to fall.  And soon, Mara couldn’t tell if minutes or hours had passed when she realized the Queen had not said a thing in a long while.  But she refused to open her eyes.

Why wasn’t she saying anything?  As the seconds, as the hours, or days ticked away, Mara waited, prepared for another swarming of vicious truths.  It was an awkward dualism.  Even though she wanted the pain to end, she wished the Queen would keep talking, just to know she wasn’t alone.

It was then she heard her.  Not her voice, but her footsteps.  One step turned into two, and so on, and eventually they grew lighter and lighter until they were gone.  Why had she left?  Don’t leave me, you’re all I have, Mara thought.  I can handle being worthless, but not alone.

After an eternity, she opened her swollen eyes.  Her vision fell upon the throne.  What had once been a majestic pillar of dark worship, its gold had aged indelibly.  The velvet was worn and ripped.  The entire atmosphere of the room had shifted.

It was then that Mara felt a hand on her shoulder.  Body weak and soul weaker, she trembled.  A man helped her to her feet.  A sturdy arm wrapped around her, a hand placed heavily on her heart.

No words were spoken, but she saw light.  She felt warmth.  And she felt love.

His face was indistinguishable, blurred by the glare of sun.  But where had the sun come from?

“Lies,” he whispered gently.  “All lies.”

They limped toward the palace doors.  A shamble compared to what they once were, now rusted and eaten away.

“I will tell you who you are.”

His chin pressed against her head in love, and they walked together.  He was strong, but tender.  The mix soothed her and offered a feeling of safety she had never before experienced.

Wherever they were headed, it was going to be a long, arduous road.  But she knew the further they walked, the more then Queen’s hold would weaken.  As long as He was with her, redemption lay in sight, and the palace and the condemnation it held would eventually crumble altogether.

Day 144

I am striving for a year of singleness.

And with more and more people getting into relationships, the more discouraged I feel.

I’m in this for another 222 days.  I have to be.  I feel it.

But it’s still difficult.

It hurts to watch people double-up, form bonds and relationships with others.  I feel like a shoe without a match.

And I hate it.  I hate that I’m looking at what I don’t have.  I wish it didn’t play so much on my mind.  I’m not unhappy for people who are dating. I’m not.  I want people to be happy, to find their “one,” to experience love.  I want that for everyone.  (And I really hope my friends know that and can see past what I'm going through and into my heart for them.)

But there remains a deep, gnawing realization that my goal right now is significantly different than 99.9% of the population.  (Shout out to that .01%!)

To be alone.

And I’m having to wrestle with this challenge and what it means for my life.  It’s easy to do something when you’re in a group of people doing the same thing.  Like AA, or a running groups, or a Bible Study, or anything!  It’s always reassuring to know that others are going through what you’re going through.  But when you have maybe one person?  No person?  And you’re struggling with an addiction you’ve had your entire life?  Then what?  It is so hard to navigate that.  And that’s what this is for me.  An addiction.  I’ve been in relationships non-stop for 12 years, heavily relying on a man for everything.

And just like crack, coke, heroine, weed, alcohol, addictions are hard to break.  And when you’re trying to break something, it is very hard to be around others who have it.  Because you focus on it.  It gnaws on you.

And I think to myself, Nobody else is having to hold themselves back from dating.  They can do whatever they want, with whoever they want, whenever they want—free!  They’re free to make those choices and I am not.  They have what I want…what I need.  What I’m desperate for.

And I sit back with a heart that is desperate—achingly desperate—to not feel these things.

God, wanting to take away my options, has, for the last four months, removed any guy anywhere posing a threat.  He has closed doors, windows—even puttied up holes in which they could sneak through like mice.  And I should be thankful.  I should be thanking Him!  But my selfish heart instead cries, “God, why am I single?  Why am I alone?  Why does everyone else get what they want?”

Cry, cry, cry.  Waah, waah, waah.  I feel like a child.

I know this is all a part of a process—an ugly process.

I can look through old albums and point out every relationships I shouldn't have been in.  ALL OF THEM.  Because I was so desperate that I either hurt them or let them hurt me.  I'm not saying if I could go back and do it any differently, I would, because I wouldn't.  I've learned a lot.  But there is a lot that I can do differently in the future if I heal.

I need to heal.  I need to work on things before I can give myself to anyone else.  I need to grow.  I need to learn.  There are plenty of things I need to learn.

It’s just a lonely path.

But, hey, that’s what God does.  He hedges up our way.  Why?  Because sometimes that's the only way we pay attention to Him.  Sometimes the only time we rely on Him is when He's the only thing we have.  Humans are fallable, all our paths are different.  No two are the same.  No support group?  Okay, God.  That's fine.  But You got me?  'Cause I need You...I need something to pull me through.  And I'm relying and trusting in You.

God, help me deal with this.  Break this in me.  If being alone for the next 10  months is going to break me of this habit, then break it.  Get me through this.  Change my heart.  Let me get to that point where I don’t want it out of desperation.  Let me get to that point where I’m strong enough not to let that be the focus in my life, in my friendships.  Let me rely on You for this strength, and not myself, because I can't do it.  Help me be less selfish, angry, upset, stubborn—anything that negatively affects my friendships with others, kill it.  Kill these feelings inside me so that I’m not who I was.  I see changes in myself now that are encouraging, just please keep encouraging me, because I feel so alone.  I feel so ugly.  I feel ugly that I feel the way I feel.  Please change my heart.  Please change it.  Please change it.  I just ask for grace and understanding while I fight through this.

Day 143

JustBcuz143.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was on AIM, talking to the “other girl” about the man I thought loved me.

It was the day I would learn so much, including what the numbers 1-4-3 meant.

It was ironic.

I. Love. You.

It ran rampant on pagers, on AOL profiles, on AIM away messages.  And I finally had learned what it meant.  That was years ago—more than a decade now—but today, every time I see those numbers in sequence, I see the message, “I love you.”

So today, today being Day 143, I anticipated something...though I didn’t know what.

A week ago, my friend left me a voicemail.  I’m terrible at listening to voicemails (sorry!), and today I finally listened to it:

“You’re worth it.”

Something broke inside me in those words.

I’m worth it.

I’m worth it.

I’m worth it.

Repeat it, Jamie.

Say it till you mean it.

Say it till you feel it.

I’m worth it.

I think of the dear, dear people who have stuck with me throughout my transitional periods.  Of the people who have come and gone in my life.  My family.  The people I touch on a day to day basis.  I think of everyone who has offered a smile.  I think of all the beautiful things I’ve seen within the last few months.

All offerings from God.

You’re worth it.  You’re worth the fight.  You’re worth love.  You’re worth it all.

God, I don’t know how you managed it, but today I feel loved...so loved.  I feel like a little more of the darkness has been erased, and I feel just a little bit more freedom.  Thank You for all the wonderful people you’ve put in my life.  Thank You for the love.  Thank You for the hardships that are growing me, healing me, and changing me to look more like You.  Your love is extravagant, amazing, faithful, and I can’t thank You enough for any of it.

Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love (1 John 4:8).

Day 142

Revealed Sovereignty

Beyond the doubt, beyond the fear

There’s a moment when glory exists so near

The world moves to the beat of light

Always turning, always yearning for a fight

But in His Hand is calming peace

The love we want but seen as the least

If only we were to look we would find that place

Love magnified by sovereign grace

So just drive on Summer, heat on our face

Head towards the sun until it ends

It’s there the darkness bends

And I’ll meet You at the river

Defeated, I search desperately

Hope hunting me, reverently

The quicker I look, the quicker I’ll find

The love that I’ve wanted has always been mine

So just drive on Summer, the heat on my face,

Head towards the sun until it ends

It’s there the darkness bends

And I’ll meet You at the river

And as the stars kiss the sun adieu

I see all that You are, all the beauty in You

Met You at the river as the sun came to an end

I watched Your Hand as it bid darkness to bend

At the big river, broken, I came to You

Watching the shimmers of radiant blue

I drove on Summer toward the sun

My heart, willingly, gratefully, betrothed to Your Son

I’ve been spending more time downtown lately, and each moment spent in the reflection of His creation just moves my soul.  Watching the sun dip beneath the earth, and as each tiny light sprinkles the indigo evening, I just think how great is our God that every moment is a piece of unrepeatable art.

Every day, God has continued to take my breath away.  Through the pain, through answered prayers, through understanding, I feel Him in everything.  This pulse I have is directly connected to Him and I’ve been reminded so much lately that I am His.

A few nights ago, I filled this blank screen with prayers.   The pages of my journals are littered with desperate scrawlings, calling out to God.  And it’s as I sit here tonight, reflecting, that I give thanks to a God who is not slow to answer.  I’m thankful for His timing and His faithfulness.

I am thankful for His precision.

I am ever more assured that I have a God who loves, who never leaves, who fights, who is unfailing and loves to love His children.

God, I am so sorry for the days and nights I overlook You.  I am so grateful for the last week, and how You’ve taken me from there to here.  I thank You for each sunset, for every attempt You’ve ever made to break into my heart.  I am so sorry for having turned away.  I pray that I see You in everything, in the every day, and that Your love remains clear and crisp now so that if it is ever muted I can be reassured that even though I may not hear You or see You that I will still feel You.  Let me never walk without You or away from You.

Day 141

The Skeleton Key came out in 2005.  Since first seeing it years ago, I’ve thought of it off and on, being both a fan of Kate Hudson and New Orleans.  But it was a few weeks ago when my coworker reminded me of the depth of its premise.

Hoodoo.  Hoodoo magic only works on those who believe in its power.  Those who don’t are not affected by its magic.  Two practitioners set their sights on Kate, and we watch as she is eventually swallowed by the same hoodoo she once dismissed as flagrant hocus pocus.  The movie ends with them revealing had she continued to not believe, she would have been untouchable.

Today, during Bryan’s sermon, I cried like I haven’t in a long time.   My soul stirred and my heart found itself 2,000 miles away on the west coast.

In my vision, I saw my brother.

It was his junior year of high school that his teachers and principal would come to my parents and tell them that something wasn’t right.  A darkness of sorts had overcome him, and we were told either he “get help or be expelled.”  My brother had written a Columbine-esque letter.

Paranoid Schizophrenia was the diagnosis.  He was 16 then, and now 24, he is still battling as much as ever with this “personality disorder.”

Like a horse wearing blinders, all I could see this February when I trekked home was the lack of love for Christ in my family.  Like the principle in The Skeleton Key, the love of Jesus can only save those who believe.  I gave no thought to demons, because my view was on only Jesus.  My only concern was that they believe in Him.  Simultaneously, I also subconsciously believed, Okay, if my family doesn’t believe in Christ, then they can’t be plagued by demons.  It’s a two way street.  You can’t have one without the other.  Right?

Wrong.

And I realized that today when Bryan began to share Matthew 17:14-21.

Unlike Jesus, demons, no…demons need no invitation.  They creep into our lives in the most subtle of ways and tear us down from the inside. 

And as he continued with his sermon, my sobs grew, swallowing me entirely.  His words brought me back to a month ago, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest.  My father and I were driving, and he spoke as we traveled along the city streets.

Sometimes we’ll have the TV on one of those CSI shows, which we really shouldn’t be watching, because they’re so dark.  If we’re watching them, and he sees something…it triggers something in his mind.  Something inside of him changes.  He says, ‘Why would a God let such things happen to people?  To children?  How could he?  God is evil.  God doesn’t care.  If He did, why would He do this?  There is no God.  God doesn't exist.’

Those words of his echoed off the walls of my heart today and I could barely breathe.  Why would my brother, who knows nothing of God, damn Him?  If this is truly just medical, and not spiritual, why would he speak of God?  He and I never went to church…  We didn’t grow up knowing God…  In fact, the first ever experience he had with Him was when I took him to church last April.  Besides that, he knows nothing…

And another memory hit me.  Our family was in Santa Cruz last April, and we stopped at a restaurant on the pier.  While we waited for our food, we talked.  Somehow for the first time I tried to talk to my family about God.  My brother sitting across from me, I saw as his face darkened.  His mood was sullied and his eyes became blank.  Sensing a shift in “personality,” I stopped talking.  I could see trouble casted in the furrows of his brows.  And out of fear of triggering something I changed the topic entirely.  The rest of the day was spent trying to pull my brother out of a dark place that we assumed as a family was due to fatigue, having walked around the city all day.

As these memories replayed in my mind, the harsh reality came.  It’s not just medical.  Those who don’t believe in Jesus can be hurt by the darkness.  And because they have no Savior, demons have free reign.  I think to myself what power is at work when a young man who knows NOTHING OF GOD blames Him FOR EVERYTHING?  How can he be so angry at a God he has never known?

Paranoid Schizophrena.  Medical condition.  Yes.  Spiritial battle.  Definitely.

This sent my mind spinning, and I couldn’t breathe.  After the sermon I escaped to the bathroom, because I was shaking.  Every muscle in my body was tense from this realization.  God removed the veil, and shattered my heart when I heard this:

“Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, ‘Why could we not cast it out?’ He said to them, ‘Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.’”

In the pit of my stomach there is a door, and if I open it, it would reveal that I don’t have faith in God.  And God knows this.  I don’t trust Him with my family.  I don’t trust Him to save them.  I don’t trust Him with my brother.  I’ve internally given up on my brother, accepting that this is who he is and nothing I can do will save him, and that God will do nothing to save him.

Ye of little faith, I hear Him say.  You want to have faith, but there is no trust.  You don’t trust me with your family and there is no such thing as fake faith. 

How little faith must I have if I separate medicine and God?  I’m going to keep God in this corner, but I won't have faith for healing Paranoid Schizophrenia, because there’s nothing He can do.  It’s medical, not spiritual.

My mind wrestles with reconciling science and faith.  Yes, he has this.  Can he be touched by The Spirit?  If he can be infiltrated by a demon, then can angels wrestle, too? 

Brother of mine, I wept for you today.  For how the world has failed you.  For how I have failed you.  And for how the Enemy has led you to believe that God has failed you.  You are not a Paranoid Schizophrenic.  You are a child of God.  I pray for whatever is in you to be cast out.  I pray for joy to fill your life.  I pray for someone to come into your life and show you Christ.  I pray that I can be a better light for you.  I pray that God has space to work His love into your heart, and that the darkness that has taken you captive is removed.

God, let me have faith in YOU.  Let me have faith in the healing power of your love.  Please save my brother.  Please, I beg you, I beg you…save him, defeat the Enemy within.  You’re all powerful, You make mountains move, You make demons shake, You wave them away without saying a word.  Take this from him.  So desperately I pray that You heal him.  I would take this burden from him if You let me.  I would take it if it meant he could be free, to experience Your love.  I am faithless and that is so ineffective.  But You are The Mighty, The Powerful, The Eternally Loving, and I pray that You take mercy on him and fight for him as You fought for me.  Don't let him die to this.  Don't let him die like this...please.  I will fight if that's all it takes.  I will find faith in You, if that's how.

Mind over matter?  God over both.  Prevail.  Prevail!  PREVAIL AND CONQUER!

Day 140

Dear God,

When I got home tonight, my hair smelled like the sun and my clothes like fire.  I felt You all throughout today.  Watching Your clouds float above me and the river racing itself toward the Memphis bridge made me appreciate Your beauty and strength.  I thought of You as I enjoyed the quiet night, me lazily tripping over thoughts while watching the bonfire light.  I don't even know where to begin with this entry, feeling so much, sorting through so much, so I’m just going to talk.

×    Work is going to be interesting for these next couple months, to say the least.  I don't know how I feel about everything going on.  Change is always scary, but I'm hoping and praying for the best.  I can say within the last week it's made me think about what I really want to pursue in life, and even though I don't know as of right now, I feel like You are going to lead me there eventually—maybe within another year or so.  And that's reassuring, because I know that there's so much that I need to learn and do before I start investing in a career, but it's also kind of disheartening, because I'm already old.  But I have to remember Your timing is not people time and You can do whatever You want.

×    I don't know where I'm headed when it comes to friendships.  Two months ago I felt like I had a core group of friends that I could have made it through life with.  Now I feel as if that's dissolved.  And I know that there is a season for everything, but I feel so lost, God.  I so desperately want...I don't know what I want.  I want someone who has the time and emotional capacity to invest in me.  I want someone who can go on trips with me, laugh about stuff, live life with me.  I know it's not good to be heavily invested in one person, because when that season ends, it leaves the heart hurting.  But I so desperately want someone...who...I don't even know.  I do know.  I want someone to fill that boyfriend-void in me.  Someone to call and talk to every night.  Someone who will go with me anywhere.  Change this in me, God.  Let me be happy with the friendships I have now and let me deeply invest in You.  I don't know what to pray for, for my friends, and You know better than I do.  Just guide me through this process, because I don't even know who to invest in and I feel so lost.

×    I’m on Day 140 of this challenge, not even half way through.  For the most part I’m adjusting.  But there are some nights, God, where I just miss being…with someone.  I miss being loved here on earth.  Someone holding my hand, running his fingers through my hair, someone to be with.  I miss it.  Marriages, new relationships and relationships have begun to make me sad, because I see what I don’t have.  The bitter part of me is setting in, and I hate it.  I don’t want to be bitter.  I want to be happy for them.  It just hurts sometimes.  And I don’t know why that is.  I don’t know if You’re trying to keep alive in me the want for a husband, or if it’s The Enemy trying to demolish all of the work I’ve put into this OYC.  I just pray that You change this sadness into positive energy, and give me heart that can continue to be joyful without a spouse, but kill these doubts about never having a husband.  I just pray that I can focus on You.

×    I don't feel as if I'm growing right now.  I felt like I was with my girls group and I feel like we're not growing anymore.  I'm thankful for the Connection Class we'll be starting tomorrow, but I still don't know if that's what I need.  God, I need someone to disciple me.  I need someone to really pour into me.  I need someone who knows You and Your Word and can lead me right now.  I hated being across from someone that was curious about God and not giving firm answers.  I need to be able to do that, God.  And I can't right now.  And I hate feeling stagnant.  How can I help the community, other girls, other people, even children, if I don't know You as deeply and as fully as possible?  I need a teacher/student relationship.  Someone to be my mentor.  Please open doors, God.  Please give me that relationship.  Please help me, because I feel like I'm drowning.  I've established a relationship with You, but now I really want to be able to share and teach others about You.

×    I'm still getting over my trip to California.  I miss my family so much.  I don't know what to pray for, for them either, God.  I just know I want them to know You.  I don't know what the future looks like—if I'll move back to California or if I can convince them to move elsewhere...but my heart yearns for them.  And sometimes I still feel as sad as when I just left.

×    When You revealed to me the other day what I need to focus on, it was like a slap in the face.  I don't know why I never thought about how much it translated into my adult-life, but here I am.  Still suffering from the aftermath of being picked on.  It all makes sense, God.  Being bullied every day all throughout school conditions one's mind.  And after doing research on Friday about bullying, so many things about my behavior and lifestyle make sense.  I don't think I've taken this well, and I don't really know how to treat it.  And I just pray You give me direction with that, too.  I know that the story You chose for my life is for me, and it has shaped my heart in amazing ways that will glorify Your kingdom, but please help with the aftermath.  Please open up my heart to trusting people, to liking myself, to having an unbiased view of who I am, for seeing Your beauty born into me.  Let me begin to appreciate myself through You and really believe that I am worth You dying for me.  So long I've felt like nothing, worse than nothing, and I don't want to feel this way anymore.  I don't want to believe those lies anymore.  And just like You saved me before, save me now.  Heal this hurt, heal this heart, demolish the foundation on which it was built and recreate a new heart for me. I can't do anything if I think I'm nothing.  But for You, through You, with You, I can be so much different.  I can be useful.  I can be smart.  I can be wise.  Let me stop living to be neither "good enough" nor "invisible" and let me live to seen so that You may be glorified through me.  Change me, rework me, break me, and mold me.  I want to live for You and leave all the rest behind.

My head won't stop spinning from all these thoughts, God.  I'm giving them to You.  Please help.

Signed,

Your Daughter

Day 138

Yesterday I was on my way home, Carrie Underwood in the background.  I heard Just a Dream in a very different way.

I really thought I was on the path toward marriage.  We had been together almost two years, and his mom even mentioned passing on to me her mother’s wedding band.  It was a rude awakening when he left me a month later.

The pain was so excruciating I could barely breathe.  I couldn’t function.  My days immediately following the end left me catatonic and submerged in dark waters of confusion and betrayal.

I couldn’t find peace, and every moment of my life was a catalyst for tears.  I never wanted church to end because it meant coming home to an apartment that had been fully furnished by him.  He was everywhere.  It was a delicious pain—a pain that kept me close to him, which I wanted, because it felt like it he was always with me.  Except, then, he was always with me.  Memories of him were all I had left, and they fed me.

And one day, it would be the last time I would see him.  The last time we spoke.  And within those two hours, I came to hate him.  Explain that to me.  How can a heart love so deeply, but simultaneously seethe with a hatred that burns like fire?  The mention of his name sent my blood into a thick boil.

I hated that he dragged out the relationship for that long if he knew.  I hated that he kept our church for himself.  I hated him for believing rumors.  I hated him for spreading rumors.  I hated him for ruining my reputation.  For valuing himself above me.  For believing he was right.  For hurting my feelings and not caring.  For everything he was and couldn’t be and refused to be, I hated him.

For a long time I felt that way.  I prayed and prayed, and repented to God for those feelings.  I wanted to be free from the hurt, the anger.  And at some point, He answered those prayers.  The anger subsided, but something remained.  Terror.  Fear.  It’s almost the same feeling when I was bullied in school.

…oh.

I wrote this earlier today.  And when I wrote that last line, I felt God revealing something important to me.

The last few days I’ve been wrestling with why I feel the way I feel toward my ex.  I couldn’t pinpoint the reasons behind the feelings or why it was now that a resurgence of emotion would occur.

The earlier days of the OYC were spent, one, forgiving my ex-boyfriends, and, two, forgiving my parents.  When I seemingly relapsed into Stage One of this challenge, I was disappointed.  And then today I realized I hadn’t relapsed.  The last part of this challenge I said was going to be devoted to forgiving myself, to really looking into my heart and figuring out my life and why I feel what I feel and do what I do.

Always meek and quiet, I’ve spent the majority of my life being bullied.

Bullying is an act of repeated aggressive behavior in order to intentionally hurt another person, physically or mentally. Bullying is characterized by an individual behaving in a certain way to gain power over another person…According to psychologist Pauline Rennie-Peyton, we each face the possibility of being bullied in any phase of our lives.

In any phase, she says.  Not just as children on the playground, but even as adults.  Looking at it in a new light, I understand why I stayed in that relationship and one of the reasons I was broken when it ended:

1.)    I wanted to stay because, having been bullied throughout my life, I already knew what to expect, and a comfortable mess always feels safer than the unknown.

2.)    Knowing subconsciously what kind of situation I was in, I thought I could change the outcome.  I thought I could become stronger and more authoritative and fight back to prove myself.  This, I thought, would have developed my self-worth and self-esteem.

3.)    When it ended, unfixed and disheveled, I felt defeated—beyond defeated.  Every self-condemning thought was reinforced.  I hadn’t changed anything and had actually succumbed to being bullied in a way reminiscent of my very first boyfriend who had also been manipulative and self-serving.

I don’t know if we as a whole understand what happens to people when we’re bullied.  Our minds change, our perceptions change.  Anxiety disorders develop.  It affects personalities entirely:

Being bullied teaches you that you are undesirable, that you are not safe in the world, and…are relatively powerless to defend yourself. When you are forced, again and again, to contemplate your relative lack of control over the bullying process, you are being set up for Learned Helplessness, which in turn sets you up for hopelessness and depression…you are also learning that you are seen by others as weak, pathetic, and a loser. And, by virtue of the way that identity tends to work, you are being set up to believe that these things the bullies are saying about you are true.

And this is exactly what occurred during our relationship.  It’s clearer now than it’s ever been to me.  I left my childhood and young adulthood behind just to move into the same situation as an adult.  And I wanted it, because this is the only way I ever knew.  And deep down inside I felt if he could love me, if I could change his perception about me, that I was redeemed from all those years as a child, tormented by my peers.  And that responsibility should have never been placed upon his shoulders.

This is how I felt on the inside.

At the core, I suffer from being bullied.  That’s what this feeling is inside of me.  God was at my side today as I uncovered this, and He said, “Do you understand?  Do you see the purpose?  I brought you through one thing for many reasons, and one of these reasons is so that I could bring you through something much deeper than a relationship.  At the core of your heart lies this pain interwoven with lies given to you as a child.  No,” He says.  “Never again.  Never again will you experience a plague like this.  We are working through this now, to redeem your past, to put it to bed.  A new you begins with a reconciled heart and now that you see a little clearer, you can be open to change.  Take a good look at yourself, because you will never see this person again.”

I can’t date a bully to redeem my bullied past.  That’s like dating someone who hits women, and me saying, “Go ahead, hit me so I can prove I’m strong enough to withstand it.”  No, Jamie!  You don’t have to be strong enough…but you can be wise enough.

Individuals or groups who most readily react to stressful situations by perceiving themselves as 'victims' tend to make the most suitable candidates for becoming the 'targets' of chronic bullying.

No more victim.  Whatever intentions I have in dating someone, they change now.  They change now and forever.

*Note: Relationships take two people and I take responsibility for my failures as well.  This writing is solely intended for purposes of growth.  This is a reflection of who we were while we were together, and I cannot speak and am not speaking for who he is now, present day.

Day 137

Today was a really difficult day.

Something happened, and afterwards, I just kind of shrank into a ball.  Sometimes people hurt your feelings.  And many times they don’t apologize.  It’s the living with that part of it that can be the hardest.  Maybe that’s why God is having me navigate through this seemingly eternal hurt that I’ve been battling with for almost two years.

If I can figure out how to move on from that completely and fully, maybe all these little instances won’t affect my heart so much.  I’m hoping that I’ll be able to rest so completely in God it won’t matter who does me wrong.  Ideally.  Not necessarily realistic, but it’s a good goal towards which to aim.

After work today, I drove home.  Defeated, I curled up in my bed and tuned into Pandora.  I don’t remember what station, but as I lay there, the cool voice of Marie Digby hummed in the air.  She sang an acoustic version of Linkin Park’s What I’ve Done into which I nestled.  I settled into the lyrics and prayed…prayed for direction, for peace, for a light heart, for healing, for hope, and for energy to meet tomorrow.

So let mercy come and wash away what I've done
I'll face myself to cross out what I've become

Erase myself, and let go of what I've done

Put to rest what you thought of me

While I clean this slate with the hands of uncertainty

So let mercy come

I am so tired tonight.  I’m praying for a better day tomorrow.  Right now I’m emotionally blank.

Day 136

God let me wade through so much yesterday.  And then today He led me through more tunnels of my aching heart.

Slowly, I walked down a path of memories.  I thought I wanted an apology and that in itself would bandage the hurt from that chapter of my life.

Even though God was being tender with me, in frustration, I declared, “No man has ever apologized to me, God!  It’s not fair!”

Go ahead.  Scream, cry, like a child desperate for a toy.  But I tell you, it will matter to you not in moments when the next wrongdoing occurs and your focus is upon that new pain.  Just as a child moving on from one instance to another, so the same will be for your heart.  Let your purpose be higher than an apology.

And He brought to the forefront of my mind two memories that made me realize my declaration had been made in haste.  What I was telling myself was a lie.

I have received apologies before—from not just one man, but two.  Two relationships after him left me wounded and confused.  The difference being that these two men took time and returned with an apology—meaningful, sincere apologies.  We left each other on good terms, and I was satisfied.  I thought I was over it and could let go.

So you can imagine it hit me like a ton of bricks when I saw these men out for the first time.  I expected to feel free and happy—high five them even!  But instead I bore the same painful anxiousness.  There remained a grating sense of recognition, it seems, and my heart recalled who they were and who they were no longer.  Mine.  At one time, but not now, and never again, but still having a piece of my heart that was meant only for God and one other person.  As much as I don’t wish for this feeling, I still have it.  Long after the apologies, because some things are permanent.  Not in a way that they’re unforgivable, but that they will always be sensitive.

Which leaves me wondering if apologies from two genuine men do not calm my spirits post-relationship, then why I do continue to believe his would?

On the way home from dinner tonight, I started my car and immediately K-Love played a song by MercyMe:

Why?

The question that is never far away

The healing doesn’t come from the explained

The Hurt and the Healer

How appropriate.  I feel like the last lyric traveled through all my memories and deep into my shoulders until it bathed my heart.

Healing is not going to come from him.  At least that much I understand now.  I don’t exactly know how to get out of this place just yet, and I feel like I’m not supposed to know.  I feel like God wants me here for right now to figure out something…I just don’t know what.  And while that’s a little frustrating, at least I’ve crossed getting an apology off the How to Cure an Aching Heart list. 

And maybe I’ll come to find it was a trick question all along, the answer hovering all around me.   As the song tonight ended, these were the last lyrics I heard:

So here I am

What’s left of me

Where glory meets my suffering

I’m alive

Even though a part of me has died

You take my heart and breathe it back to life

I’ve fallen into Your arms open wide

When the hurt and the healer collide

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.  But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed (1 Peter 4:12-14).

Day 135

I thought I saw him last week.

And like any time I think I see him, I run, frantic to escape.

Escape what?

An awkward un-apology.

It’s been a year and half and every time I see him, or see pictures of them, or see people from my old church, I cringe.  It’s like the wound is ripped open all over again.  And I hate it.

All I really want is an apology.  I want someone to say I’m sorry for what happened.  I want him to say he’s sorry for how wrong he was.  I want someone else to say she was sorry for how wrong she was.  I want the group to say I’m sorry that happened and that we didn’t support you better in your time of need.  I want to know that some part of them recognizes the deep hurt they’ve caused.

But it’ll never come.  And so I run until another spontaneous picture pops up and I’m forced back through all that searing pain all over again.

He’ll never apologize.  Because in his mind he did nothing wrong. 

And I sit here and I think:

1.       It’s not fair that he was able to move on.  He’s not sitting around thinking about me or what he had or what happened between us and how he wishes it could have been different—not that we’d be together, but at least that it wouldn’t have gone up in flames.

2.       I deserve an apology.  I deserve an apology for him not treating me as Christ treated the church.  He needs to apologize for putting his selfish needs above…just treating me like a human being, with compassion.  Yes, I deserve an apology.

And I thought of these things today, mulled them over while at my desk at work, wrestled through them at lunch, and examined them while I sat on my patio.

What it boils down to is pride.  I deserve…  I deserve…  I deserve…

It’s not enough for me that God pulled me out of a situation, a place, a relationship that stunted my growth and love for Him.  No.  In fact, I’m angry at God for doing it that way.  I want to yell and scream at Him and tell Him, “God, I at least deserve an apology from the bozo you had me with for 2 years that took a hammer to my heart!  God, I at least deserve my pain to be recognized!  They’re sitting there, smiling, enjoying life, ignoring what they did, and here I am wrestling with the same pain two years later!  How is that fair?  How little do you care about me that You should give me less than those who love You less and have been less dedicated than I have?!”

When I say all these things out loud, it hurts.  I know it hurts God that I’m being so selfish.  The life I have now is so much better than what it was.  I have everything.  Before I had nothing, and I’m complaining like the everything I have now is nothing compared to the nothing I had.  I’m sure it hurts His heart.

Why, at this point, does it matter if I’m recognized as the victim or not?  The only thing that would heal from that is my pride.  And it’s not like that would help me in any way.

On the balcony of my apartment tonight, I rocked in the breeze, considering all things.

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23)

Judas betrayed Jesus.  Peter kept quiet.  None of these hurts kept Jesus from following God.  Jesus didn’t say, “God, this is so unfair!  I demand an apology from them before I do my work for you!”

No, that’s not how it happened.  He fulfilled God’s work anyway. 

And I can’t look at God and say, “These people deserve their just-desserts and I’m going to wait for you to fulfill that before I can fully focus my heart on what You’ve called me to do.”

They hurt me.  Okay.  They’re not apologizing.  Okay.  They’ve moved on.  Yup.  So have you, Jamie!

What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ (Phillippians 3:8).

In that loss I gained Christ.  How is an apology more precious than that?  It isn’t.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything (James 1:2-4).

Help me get through this, God.  Let me rely on You.  A friend told me last night to look at this like an infection God is clearing out.  And I want this infection gone, God!  I do!  Get every last piece of it out!  The sooner it’s gone, the sooner I can do more, learn more, be more, love more.  And so I’ll count it as joy that I’m dealing with this hurt…taking up my cross, following Jesus, and perservering.

No apology.  No pride.  But perseverance.

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him James (1:12).

More than that, 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 5:3-5).

Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually (1 Chronicles 16:11)!

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:2).

And you will be hated by all for my name's sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved (Mark 13:13).

Day 134

“She couldn’t erase the last ten years…not even a hundred dawns like this, not even a thousand, would change what was.  The truth was there forever, just like Duke said in the dream.  You can’t get away from it.  No matter how hard you try, you can’t escape the truth.  Her mouth curved into a sad smile, and her soul ached.  Maybe this man was all he seemed.  Maybe he meant every word he said, but she knew something he didn’t.  It was never going to be the way he wanted it.  It just couldn’t happen.  He was a dreamer.  He wanted the impossible from her.  Dawn would come for him, too, and he would awaken.  Angel didn’t want to be anywhere around when he did.”

This is an excerpt from the book Redeeming Love, given to me a couple months ago by Lauren.

After today’s sermon at church and reading the chapter that held these words, I began to cry.  God has been speaking to me so much lately.

In this challenge I’ve played on the swing-saw.  I want to be married.  No, I don’t want to be married.  Back and forth, back and forth, depending on my mood and everything around me.

I think today God really showed me it’s not a matter of want.  It’s something else.  Something else inside of me that makes me feel like I would be a burden to anyone who dared to love me.

I see the single life as a contest.  And with so many other contestants out there who are more beautiful, more intelligent, more career-driven, making more money—where would I stand in the ranks?  I can never be good enough to be married.  My brother, my family, my health, my lack of a college degree, all of these are enough to throw me from the contest of being loved.  I give up, resign, because it’s easier than waiting, than rejection, than wishing for something that may never come.

To love me would be to sacrifice everything, I say.

And I’m just not worth the sacrifice.

And so I try to make myself believe that I don’t want marriage…just to make the not-having-it easier.

Then I hear God saying, But that’s what love is—it is sacrifice!  And if marriage is supposed to reflect the relationship of Christ and the church on earth, it’s all about sacrifice.  Jamie, why wouldn’t you let anyone sacrifice for you?

Sitting in church, we watched the life of a pastor and his family play out before us.  We watched him interact with his sons and with his wife as a family.  The sight almost made me cry.

I want a God-fearing man.  I want a father who will teach and guide his children.  I want to be a team, encouraging our family to grow and love deeply.  I want that type of family.  And when I saw it on the screen today, my heart almost imploded.  It’s possible, I heard a voice say.  See?  Everything you thought impossible, possible.

It doesn’t have to be like it was.  Your life doesn’t have to be what it was.  You can love, and be loved, and sacrifice, and be sacrificed for.  You can have a husband who gives every effort to love you as Christ loved the church, and doesn’t aim to hurt or damage you to build his self-esteem.  You can be a loving wife who can be more than just a sexual partner.  Your words, your passion, your love can mean something.

It’s possible.

But only if you’re open to it.

I walk a little further in this challenge each day.  I hurt a little more to hurt a little less.  I examine different memories so I can create better ones.  I relive moments to be at peace with them, so that next time I don’t make the same decisions.

I’m growing, God.  With Your help and the relationships You’ve put in my life, and the experiences I keep experiencing, You’re growing me.  And maybe one day I will understand what sacrifice truly is, and maybe one day I’ll be open to love, and I’ll leave the days of Angel behind me.