Day 300

It was the little boy that she remembered.

Dark brown hair.  Big brown eyes.  Maybe it was just that he reminded her of her brother when he was a baby.  He couldn’t have been more than two and maybe yet still younger than that.  His smile—his growing smile.  And the wave directly from God that told her it was all going to be all right if she was pregnant.  And then, as quickly as she saw him, he was gone.

But, in that moment, her heart had been changed.

The weeks spent in worry, depression, tests and tears.  Weeks of telling herself she wasn’t.  Weeks of praying for it not to be true.  Weeks of preparing to make a pro-choice decision, if it was.  And suddenly she was okay with being a mom.  She would be…okay.

But by the following Thursday, it was over.

The call, a permanent fixture in her mind, replayed.

Standing in the back office, on her cell, the doctor’s office had finally called, but the results—she only expected one of two things.  Either they would tell her she was never pregnant, or that she was.

But the word miscarriage sent her world into a seismic upheaval.

The nurse’s voice was full of compassion, “The test results were conclusive with a miscarriage.”  All Alice could muster was a feeble, “Oh.”  Before they hung up, the nurse offered up the only kind words she could.

“Now, y’all can try again as soon you want.”

If she wasn't almost crying, Alice would have laughed.  It was a remark meant for good, but it stabbed an even wider wound in her heart.  Two emotions engulfed Alice.  Relief.  And utter, desperate grief.

That was a year ago today.  Today, a day filled with storms, and these painful memories.

Her eyes grazed over the scene before her.  On her balcony, she sat in the midst of a summer storm.  Rain came down, thunder heaved, and the wind shook the plants.  It lapped at her face, and she closed her eyes in the warm breeze.

As the storm settled in, she picked up her pen, and began to write:

Dear little one,

                To the angel I never met, to the one God used to save me, it’s been a year since I’ve “lost” you.  And “lost” seems like an inappropriate word to use here.  After all, I spent the days before I “lost” you wishing you away, praying you gone…

                …but never ‘gone’ as in taken away.  There’s a difference between never existing and something being taken.  I didn’t expect anything to exist.  And I anticipated that if it did—if you were there—that I would ultimately be the one in charge, indulging in my liberal Californian pro-choice roots.  That I would rid myself of you.  But I never, never expected anything to be decided by the hand of God.

                But I realize now that everything is within His hands.  Maybe that’s why He used that little boy’s wave—his little hand.  It was by his little baby hand that I finally felt the courage to do what I should’ve done all along….

                …love you.

                But I loved you too late.  And I love you still.  It’s the reason I see little girls and swoon.  It’s the reason I cradle children so lovingly in my arms.  It’s the reason I see new families and smile with tears in my eyes.  It’s the reason I touch my stomach some nights and remember where you were and think of the place you would’ve grown.

                You’re the reason for so much that I do.  Losing you changed my life.  God saw what would come from what came, and maybe that’s why He divined it.  Because He knew you were very thing that would incite a permanent change within my heart.  He knew I would never—could never—be the same without you.

                This letter is but a small token of thanks, of love, of surrender.  You changed my life.  I never met you.  But I knew you.  I love you.  And one day I’ll see you.  And I’ll thank you in that moment.

                This isn’t goodbye, for in God’s Kingdom, little one, there is no such thing.  Simply, this is to tell you that I’ll be seeing you.

                I love you,

                The girl you changed

As Alice finished the letter, she rose to the balcony rail, and held it loosely in the storm, the rain washing away the wet ink.

A year ago today she lost something she barely knew she wanted then, but something God knew she needed more than anything.

With that, she let the blank page fall from her fingers and into the earthen ground, letting go of the guilt and appreciating the beauty in a gift that had only until today—this very day—far surpassed her own understanding.

Therefore I will hedge up her way with thorns, and I will build a wall against her, so that she cannot find her paths (Hosea 2:6).

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7).

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.  “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8-9).

Day 299

Customer: “Hey, is that a wedding ring on your finger?”

Me: “Sir, for one, it’s on the wrong hand, and, two…we had this same…conversation…last week.  Nothing’s changed.”

----------------------------------------

When I tell people about the OYC, the banner that waves is usually taken for SINGLENESS—which isn’t bad, but it’s just that the scope is so much wider than that.

This challenge has given me so much more than just a contentment with being single.  It’s given me confidence.

Confidence in Christ.  Confidence in the Holy Spirit.  Confidence in God.  Confidence in myself.

Knowing Christ gave His life for me.  Because He loves me.

Knowing the Holy Spirit is with me, guiding me.  Present in every moment, every decision.

Knowing God loves me enough to bear both the burdens and the blessings He gives.

Knowing I’m loved and saved and my life is for the glory of God, and it is not worthless, but full of worth.

I trust Him because He loves me.  I love Him, not just because He loves me, but how He loves me.

My best friend said, “If you do this One Year Challenge as a task—as a list to check off—don’t do it, because inevitably you’ll fail.”

And she’s right.  It takes effort.  A lot of effort.  I have never more consciously, conscientiously, and consistently prayed about and paid attention to my actions and words.

But it’s all worth it.

Biting your tongue in love.  Walking away in love.  Sacrificing in love.  Humbling yourself in love.

What this OYC is, isn’t just an adjustment.  It’s training.  And if you are not ready or able to train yourself to be better, do not commit.

I’m only at month 9.75 and I have learned and developed so much.  I wouldn’t trade this experience for a husband—which is something, 9 months ago, I would have never said.  And I get to talk with, minister to, and advise single women who come into my life about this, and that is in itself a blessing.  To see where I once stood, to walk through the same pain and doubt, to do my best to tell them that joy in life is not from the having or unhaving of a husband.

There are far too many blessings of which to be thankful to God, and a far more many things to which we can commit should our singleness be our ultimate servitude to Christ.

I’m living proof that being single and loving God doesn’t kill you.

But it will make you stronger, if you are willing and obedient to follow God down either path.

Day 298

I went in for some water.

But she was sitting there, phone to her ear and panic in her voice.

In the midst of a hurricane hitting New Orleans, she was in our break room, talking hurriedly with her brother, a resident of a now flooded house with no rescue in sight.

By the time she had hung up I had walked over to her.  Embracing her and taking her shoulder, I listened as she explained her panicked tone.

Fast rising water.  No electricity.  Having to make it across the formed gulf for rescue.  A neighbor with a new born baby.  Rain.  Unending rain.

Her words flowed together like the very water she described.

I knew what the Spirit was moving me to do, and nervously, I asked, "Miss Wallace...can we pray?  Let me pray for you?"  I held out my hands for hers.

My heart ached for the right words, and only Lord knows if I found them.  I prayed over her, her family, and the rescue teams.  When I heard her phone buzzing, I ended quickly, leaving her to answer the calls coming from the rest of her family.

There are several times within the last year that the Holy Spirit moved me to pray with people, and I refused.  Making excuses, I withheld, letting others lead them in prayer, or walking away and avoiding the situation entirely.  It took months to be able to even pray out loud with friends.  Strangers?  No way.

And then, like everything else in my life, He usurped my wants and, in all my discomfort, has had me pray over two people within the last four days.

Crazy.

Though my words are simple, I know they're really His, and that the Lord will use whatever moments for His greater glory and divine purpose.

Not only have I been praying with people, but I've been creating prayer circles and prayer partners.  Suddenly the fear of no prayer is greater than the fear of being rejected.  And so I sought out a few others to pray for her intentionally.

Searching out people to pray for each other has become a mission.  And actually, prayer, all around, seems to be becoming a bigger portion of my life.

God is trusting me with so much, and I just want to do right by Him.

And I know that this is only just the beginning.

Day 296

Never underestimate the necessity of a bubble bath.

Light the candles.  Play slow music.  And force yourself to sit for two seconds.

Suddenly the real world seems far away, and you can see it as if you’re 10,000 miles away, looking from above down into your busy life.

You watch yourself as weeks pass, becoming more and more dedicated and excited for the East Outpost.  You sense your anticipation of change, growth, and use of your spiritual gifts.  You feel the reality that life is about be very, very different.  Relationships will be very, very different.  And you’re okay with it.  Because you don’t grow staying where you are.  You grow in movement and change.

You glide along the tightrope of 9 months, watching as relationships with men begin to change.  The validation you once sought—no more.  You see the friendships you’ve made with men, and how, for the first time, you have no other intentions than to be friends and glean from their biblical leadership and experience.  You don’t crave companionship, but, rather, simply enjoy the community shared.  You can cook for friends, watch movies with them, shop with them, laugh and joke, and really, truly be just friends.  You wonder at this new feeling and know this in itself is reason enough for the OYC.

But you also see the women relationships you’ve formed.  The opportunities to glean from not just older women, but your peers.  God is finally putting loyal women in your life, and you realize that maybe it’s because you’re finally being loyal to women.  You’ve prioritized and realized the importance of women friendships.  How much they matter and how much they can shape and uplift your walk with God.  Priceless.  Irreplaceable.  And you realized that even if you do get married, friendships matter.  Women just aren’t placeholders until your husband comes along—no, they are much too precious and far too valuable.  And you enjoy that new feeling of choosing a plan with a girl friend over hanging out with a guy.  It’s new to you.  And you enjoy being in this unfamiliar, but warm place.  Another gift of the OYC.

You sink under the water as you wonder about Twitter.  Over the weekend you deleted almost all your tweets and vowed to be more attentive to your postings—if you posted at all.  You realize that the friend who tweeted something that unintentionally hurt you will never realize the depth of hurt that their 140 characters caused, and know that it doesn't really matter.  What matters is the conviction it set in your heart, which is really why you decided on the change—a new understanding that cyberspace is a dangerous place where anyone can say anything and not be held accountable for those words.  Well, you said, I’m changing.

Your mind drifts from thought to thought, and it lands on s•i•b.  God’s plan for you.  The plan written in invisible ink.  God, how am I supposed to read this?! you cried.  Truth is, it was a play.  There was no invisible ink.  There was no plan at all.  Just a prompting from God to follow Him.  And what you received out of it was a hint of what you’ve been searching for a long time.  Fellowship.  Openness.  Intentional time with other young women believers.  And this experience taught you—once again—to trust in God’s faithfulness.

As the water drains and you blow out the candles, you stand and look at yourself in the mirror.  No, not the prettiest thing, you think.  This is the most you’ve weighed in years.  Your skin is terrible.  Teeth crooked, fingers fat.  The list of flaws too long to name them all.  But why would you?  You’re happy.  For the first time in your life you see these things and they don’t make you.  They are what make you, you.  But it’s not a worth-determinant.  You still feel confident in who you are.  And you know it’s because the Father has been working diligently on your heart.  Like a coal miner.  He’s been going down into the depths of the caves of your soul, retrieving diamonds for you to behold.  See, look at this and how it shines?  Though you know it’s only a reflection of the light in his cap, you see the beauty He sees in small moments.  The diamonds are kept in caves, waiting like gifts to be given, tools to be used.  And you feel loved and treasured, and know it’s because you’ve finally opened yourself up to seeing who you are through Him, through the light He’s casted through you.

...and the thoughts keep coming.

Thoughts of praise.  Thoughts of wonder.  Thoughts of simple curiosity and anticipation.  Each one like a cloud, blanketing you in a soft haze of an almost-midnight hour.

And soon the blanket turns into quiet murmurs that sing you to sleep like a distant lullaby.  Your eyes close and you whisper your final praises to God for the evening and drift off in a safe sleep.

Day 292

Just received an e-mail.

This coming Sunday will be my last intentional visit to the Colonial outpost of Fellowship Memphis.

Time passes by so quickly.  It seems as if just yesterday I walked into the school auditorium for the first time beside Tabitha for their Christmas service.  That was near two years ago.

Time flies.  And it can take you anywhere.

In 2008, I was at New Mount Zion.  In 2009, I was at Second Presbyterian.  In 2010, I was at Hope Church.  In 2012, I joined Fellowship.  It’s amazing to relive, just for a moment, where I’ve trekked in life within the last half-decade.

Not even speaking in terms of churches, time can take you anywhere.

Out of relationships.  Past friendships.  Into new jobs.  An entirely new state of mind.

One of the things I’ve most enjoyed about this stage in my life is being open and willing to do anything and be anywhere.  Nine months into the OYC has marked a new stage.  A new chapter.  I can’t quite explain it, but it’s evident.  There’s an air of peace surrounding me.  My relationships.  My pursuits.

Somewhere along my timeline, moving on because less about moving on.  Moving on implies leaving “it” behind.  And “it” can be anything.  A disappointing friendship.  A disgruntled boyfriend.  A broken family.  Church hurt.  Any multitude of pains lay on the spectrum of “it.”

Scratch out on and replace it with forward and instead…you’re moving forward.  Moving forward is not as simple as leaving behind the hurt.  No.  Moving forward, instead, is taking one foot, placing it in front of the other—a continuation of steps along the path God divined for you, leaving behind not just the bad “it,” but maybe even the good.

A fault occurs when we let the god of comfort consume us, leaving us immobilized in a world suiting and satisfying what we can only see as our immediate needs when really our eyes should be cast toward the long-term.

We leave when we’re unhappy, but how willingly and how often do we push ourselves to move forward when we’re happy?  We miss out on higher levels of joy, too slow to release one gift to receive another.

Seasons just aren’t marked by the foul happenings of life, but by beautiful ones, too.  A lot of times we outgrow friendships, but are too stubborn in releasing them to realize God’s trying to give us new hearts to be ministered to or opportunities for new hearts to minister to us.  We outgrow dating relationships, but cling to “good” because we can’t see “great” around the corner.  We grow so comfortable in the NOW that NEW ain’t even in our peripheral—even thought that’s where God is directing us!  New experiences.  New relationships.  New opportunities.  New love.

Release yourself from the bonds and be open to taking one step forward, because you will never know what gift He has prepared for you in the next step unless you move forward and take it.

Day 287

·   God can take every single, separated prayer and answer them all in one fell swoop.  “I want to get up early enough to pray.”  “I want a roommate.”  “I don’t want to move out of this apartment.”  “I want to help women of the world.”  “I miss my best friend.”  “Please give me something I’m passionate about.”  “How can I even think of being a wife if I can’t even be a friend?”  “Would I be a good wife?”  “Will I be a good mother?”  “Am I going to help anyone?”  “I wish I could keep my apartment clean.”  “I wish I had accountability.”  “I wonder if I’ll be a mom.”  Some of those aren’t even prayers.  Just questions.  And it’s amazing to me how God orchestrates everything—something two months ago is connected to something of today, and He did that!  He planned it out so that I would see why it happened as it happened.  He orchestrates everything down to the most minute detail, and realizing that I just feel an overwhelming sensation of gratitude.

·   Tonight was the gathering for the East Outpost.  I was terrified.  And I was lost.  I spent 15 minutes trying to find the country club.  When I finally found it, I walked into the pool area like it was the first day of kindergarten.  And then I started recognizing people.  And then I started meeting new people.  And stories began being shared.  And it was amazing.  “So…how long have you two known each other?” she asked me.  “Oh, we just met!”  “What?  When?”  “Here in line.”  I love that.  I love meeting people and being so comfortable that it seems like we’ve known each other forever.  I want people to feel loved and comfortable and I love facilitating that.  My greatest mission in life is to connect people.  I’m going to do my best for you to flourish in this atmosphere.  I’ve heard this elsewhere, but remembered it today: “Our biggest hurt is our biggest ministry.”  Well, my biggest hurt is loneliness, and it’s because of loneliness that I will always try to connect to people and connect them to other people.

·   Karen.  Christina.  Sandy.  Suzanne.  These are the women I connected with tonight.  She helped lead a church plant in Louisville, KY.  She’s a social worker pursuing nursing.  She spent 26 years out of the country as a missionary; eight years in Kenya, the rest in Nigeria.  I know her from when I was a teller at Germantown Poplar and she is an amazingly strong and open woman.  Amazed.  Amazed at the love of Christ I heard tonight and encouraged by the beginning of this new chapter.  Ready to rock the East Outpost!

·   I absolutely love challenges, because challenges and discomfort are when we grow the most.  And if I’m trying to walk as Christ and be as much like Him before I go, then work on me, God.  Let’s do the dang thing.  If I’m not striving to be like You, my life is worthless and wasteful.

·   I’m adopting a daughter, and I’m so excited.  She’s moving in within the next few days and this is going to be an amazing experience.  At first I was nervous, feeling like a true parent, thinking, “I’m going to screw her up just like my parents screwed me up!” and as the days have passed, I feel at peace.  I feel God saying, “Hey, I got this.  I’m not going to lead you to a road and abandon you as we walk down the path.”  He has her in His hands, He has this and we are going to be better through it all.  I’m going to learn a lot, and so is she, and I’m excited.  I never anticipated what God had as the last leg of this OYC, but it’s very fitting.  Lead by example.  Give grace.  Accountability.  Unselfishness.  Yes, it’s time to put everything I’ve learned into true motion.  And I’m excited and encourage and ready!  I love her and know we’re going to do great things.  God has brought two people together for a million different reasons—all of them good!

·   As this challenge winds down, I can say it really isn’t about being single.  That was where I started, but now—now I know it's about so much more.  I tell women about my story and some say, “Oh, I’ve been single [such and such] years—I’m right there with you.”  And, yeah, okay, they might be “there” with me, but I feel as if I'm misrepresenting the purpose.  The behind-the-scenes for this challenge is figuring out what it means to be in a healthy relationship with Christ where you see yourself through His eyes.  That’s what this challenge has been.  An opportunity for a dating-aholic to pause and say, “This idol no long has control over me.”  And what I feel right now, I wouldn’t trade for the world.  And what I want to do with this feeling is plant seeds in other women that their happiness doesn’t come from a man.  It doesn’t come from a career.  It doesn’t come from a family.  It comes from Him.  My longing to be married one day hasn’t changed.  But what has changed is that my joy is no longer dictated by this unmet longing.  #priceless

Day 285

Alice was going to change the world.

A patron saint, she thought.  She had heard that term used before by Whoopi Goldberg in Sister Act.  She'd be a patron saint for the young, forgotten, hurting women of the world.

Come to me all who are weary, she would say with open arms and a voice singing to God for others to hear.  Let's introduce you to love—real, unconditional, amazing love.

She had plans.  Big plans.  Big plans that she never would have dreamed of having before God.  God, her Savior, her Mentor, her Father, her Redeemer.  Before Him she had been so lost.  So caught in a world of lies and deceit.  It was from that quarter century of her life spent in pain that the fire to save other young women was born.

Little Alice who had grown up with no friends, who had endured a decade of bullying, whose family had fallen apart, whose own life had crumbled into fiery shambles—it was her who would become the leader she never even anticipated.  Hell, she thought she'd be dead by now.  Leader?  Never, she oft say.  Being a quiet follower, yes, that was where it was at.  Standing in the background, being invisible, quiet, unnoticed.  Even breathing too loudly in a group gave way to flushed cheeks of embarrassment.  Shrouded in a cloak of able evasion—ah, that was where she once felt safest.

Oh, but how He had transformed that!  A riddle to how He had managed to transform her place of safety from a corner hidden away to out in the open, in the front line, in His hands.  In His hands, her worst fear had become her strongest defense against The Enemy and his plans.

And all Alice had done was simply unclench her fists.  Tight fingers became open palms.  And in her palms He placed everything she never knew she wanted.

Impossible became possible.

Unrealistic became reality.

Through Him.  Through His love.

And this is what she wanted so desperately for all the women of the world.  For them to feel His love, His mighty hand.  To open their eyes to His heart for them.

The world is a big feat, she mused quietly to Him.  But there's a reason the animals marched two by two onto the ark.  There's a reason it was Naomi and Ruth.  One by one, if that's what it took, she would follow Him.  Heart by heart she would pour into, invest, love, encourage, penetrate.

He had taken her, blessed her, redeemed her and given her life purpose by allowing her to be a vessel to do the same for others.  And be a vessel she would, bringing glory to Him all her days.

And apparently, He trusted her with this, because all of a sudden, almost out of nowhere, she beheld ripe opportunity.

Now was her chance.  Would she do it wholeheartedly, or would she shrink away, repeating the past?  A multitude of questions ran through her mind, but only one mattered…

How much would she trust His faith in her?

Day 282

He kissed her.

It was the kiss Alice had been waiting for ever since she first saw him a year ago.  When they met, his smile caused her to pause.  He had never noticed her before, which made this moment even more surreal. 

Marsh surrounded her as she walked away from his compound.  She held that moment, her spirits lifted, but never saw what was coming next.  The Heaven she felt quickly gave way to Hell.  The world around her crashed as her eyes caught sight of fire and screams filled the air in the distance.

Is that possible? she thought, shock registering within her.  Her view was of a massive giant—ten times her size, hurdling himself around the dirt roads, crippling and killing those in his sight.

My eyes are playing tricks on me, she thought.  But there he stood and no amount of blinking made the vision disappear.  She slunk from tree to tree, terrified, as she checked on the wounded and hidden.  At every turn she expected to die, to be caught by his massive claws.  Somehow she found her way to the children.  Four of them, playing in the rafters, not quite aware of the doom around them.  Quickly she pulled them close.

“Sssshhh,” she hushed them.  They stilled themselves and listened to the noises in the background.  Horrific sounds.  Shrieks.  Nothing a child should hear.  She was concentrating so deeply on the sounds that when a hand placed itself on her shoulder, terror ripped through her and a yelp escaped her.

But it was only Hannah, sweet Hannah who would risk everything for anyone with no hesitation.

“We need to get the key,” Hannah whispered, only a hint of alarm resting in her throat.  Her eyes were dry, but Alice could tell she had been weeping.  It was then she realized Hannah’s husband was nowhere to be seen, and knew immediately what that meant.

The key.  Never before had she hated their key system so much.  They needed two people to open the box to get to the storm cellar key.  They both had to make the short trek.  Realizing it was safer to leave the children behind than to risk their lives in the open, Alice padded them into the surrounding forest.

“No matter what, stay hidden,” she ordered as she packed the brush around the children.  Camouflage.  She prayed with every deliberate placing of a branch that no one would find them.  And she and Hannah stalked away.

The garage luckily wasn’t far and through the broken door they crept.  In addition to the giant wreaking havoc, guerillas had stormed the compound.  The garage lay ransacked, announcing their arrival and undeniable presence, but the women knew they had no choice.  If they didn’t get into the storm cellar, they were dead anyway.  And so Hannah began to put in her combination when footsteps...

Footsteps!  Noooo, Alice wailed in her head.

Hannah pushed herself against the dark corner.  And Alice hid behind a tire.  The footsteps seemed to lighten, moving away from the building.  Moments passed.  Precious moments that could mean life or death for the children.

She peered around to see through the shattered window, and immediately knew she had made a fatal mistake.

Her gaze was met with a pair of crazy, bright eyes.  And a barrel of a sawed-off gun.  Both were aimed directly at her.  Her stupidity had killed them both, and suddenly she was glad the children had stayed behind.  Maybe they’ll survive, she thought.

In a moment, millions of thoughts reeled through her head.  The giant destroying the town.  The children.  The kiss.  The kiss was her final thought as the world faded into blackness.

***

She awoke in a panic.  Alice’s bedroom slowly materialized around her.  The clock next to her bed read 6:00 AM in bright red lettering.  And the world?  The world was still in one peace, sleeping around her.

All a dream, she thought.  All a rogue nightmare.

The pace of her heart slowed as she realized she was still breathing.  Still alive.  Her death wasn’t real.  The children weren’t real.  The guerillas weren’t real.  The forest alit in flames, not real.  The kiss wasn’t real, though it remained fresh on her lips.

Every night the cycle of chaotic dreams repeated.  Try as she might, she couldn’t get away from the sadness, and every night it was some new torment.  She couldn’t will it away.  She couldn’t pray it away.  And there she stayed, locked motionless in her bed, awaiting the sun, because, try as she might, she couldn’t even will herself back to sleep.

Day 278

I was young then.  I was different; my dreams were different.

Somewhere deep down inside of me there is a pit—no, a shell.

A shell so thin that the landmine inside is close to an overwhelming explosion.

Maybe it’s already happened.  I can't tell.

This is what reading The Hunger Games has done to me.  Ridiculous, I know, as I read my own words.  But God uses the smallest of things to ignite a wildfire.

The words of a fictional girl in the middle of a revolution detonated something.

Something strong, something unnerving, and something I didn't understand maybe until now.

Nine months of this challenge is complete.  Nine months for the first time in fourteen years I've been without a significant other.  And though the challenge is coming to end, I feel both hopelessly and recklessly like this is only the beginning of something else.  Another chapter in a book that I never necessarily wanted a part in.

But now there are two sides of me.  There is Jamie, the girl unsuccessfully holding on to the American dream that she never really quite wanted, and the girl who desperately wants to sacrifice everything to follow God.

Revolutions of the heart.

I fear to say that this is what this is.  A reconcilement of sorts, where I need to listen to God very carefully.

There is a reason I'm unsatisfied with the American dream, I think.

There's a reason for no college degree.

No career.

No family.

No husband.

You’re a Reason, not a Season, Jamie.

A reason I've been too afraid to admit to myself, until now.  Maybe I'm not meant for the American dream.  The white fence, the happy family, the stay at home mother with two children, the marriage to a man who loves me deeply.

It scares me to admit that the greater plan God may have for me includes nothing of that.  And that all of that, if I chose that path, would mean turning my back on God's ultimate dream for me.

But what is the ultimate dream, God?  The ultimate path You've chosen for my life?

There is an unanswered gnawing at my soul, but I don't know what to feast upon to ease it.  To subdue it, to satisfy it.  I feel as if I'm supposed to be somewhere, but where?  I feel a calling from the states, seeing as how it has never suited me much anyway, but where from here?  And doing what?

The unease in my soul is realizing that the ideals I grew up with—I have an almost too permanent feeling—are dreams and desires not meant to come to fruition.

And as I sit here tonight, another night alone in my apartment, this realization sits even heavier.

In the corners of my mind, I don't see myself being married.  I can't see a man who can partner with me—and not because there aren't great guys, but because it's not meant to be.  I don't see a man sacrificing his life for mine, his health for mine, his dream for mine.  I don't see a man who shares mine at all.  And I don't want that—I wouldn't marry anyone who does not share ideals with me, no, because our lives would be constant turmoil.  No, I want to follow God.

I admit to this now, because in the months to come I feel as if this gnawing is the only thing I will be holding onto.  As more couples form, as the loneliness grows, as I watch my friends marry, bear children, and be happy, what I expect for my life hits me more as a promise than a realization.

Maybe this challenge was God's way of easing me into this.  Maybe the next three months, the last quarter of the challenge, are not a challenge at all now, but an opportunity to meditate on these feelings and focus wholeheartedly on a different path.

God, you know me.  You know Your plans for me.  I can't say whether or not I'm going to be married.  Only You know that.  But what You've placed on my heart right now is both the greatest burden and excitement and fear and intrigue that I've ever felt.  Where the wheels on this train will take me, I have no clue.  You say follow You.  And to an unknown destination where everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I could predict or plan, that doesn't exist anymore.  Light in me a fire not doused by fear, but grown by it.  A soul set ablaze to follow You no matter what that means.  Change is so utterly exhausting.  I thought that my biggest change would come December of 2010.  And if that were the case, I'd be no better off than I was in that moment.  But You keep me, You shape me, You're reforming me.  Please just give me the heart, patience, and fortitude to grow with You, even if I don't know what that means or what it looks like.  I'm reminded of Follow You Into the Dark, with the lyrics vowing self-sacrifice, but there is no dark where there is light, and of all this, that is the only thing of which I am sure.

Day 276

·   There are many thoughts that run through my head in the morning—millions of thoughts alone in the first blink of the day!  So it was this morning, when I rose from bed, that these words filled my mind, "You know, if I knew I was going to die, I would sell everything, raise money for my parents to pay off my debts, and fly home and be with them."  While I've had thoughts of death before, this, coming out of nowhere, really confused me.  I tried to brush it off, but somehow I couldn't escape it throughout the day, wondering if it has any meaning.

·   I began reading the Hunger Games trilogy last week.  Reading the actual words of Suzanne Collins's books, I am more and more intrigued by Peeta—just as I was intrigued by Edward in the Twilight series.  Many young girls—and women—fall in love with these books, and I think it not just for the attractive male protagonists.  Instead I think there's something deeper.  Something in the way these men sacrifice themselves for the women they love.  What girl doesn't want that?  This self-sacrifice is exactly what our Savior did for us—so of course we are naturally, instinctually, drawn to men who are willing to do the same, fictional or not.  As my OYC comes to an end, I wonder if I'll ever be found by a man willing to sacrifice himself for me.  Is it possible?  Is it realistic?

·   True love.  God keeps protecting me.  Maybe against my own will.  Of course against my own will.  He eliminates pieces on the board, knowing that I cannot overcome them.  I know it's in His greatest love for me that this is done.  And I know His will is good and perfect, and He has given me a piece—a piece and a peace—that offers security, security in knowing that a man who loves me will really, truly, no-doubt have to love me to be with me.  This was His promise to me in what I initially thought was a curse.  It is His biggest blessing and His biggest promise.

·   Tonight, I watched the Olympics and heard bits of Kellie Wells' story.  Life experiences have caused my ears and heart to perk at the mention of hurtful times.  You know the sweetest thing about the times of hurt?  Brokenness.  Body shattered.  Soul fractured.  Life turned into ashes.  Nothing left to lose.  Everything to gain.  Hearts to inspire.  My story is ugly and it will always be ugly.  But the beauty in it is that anyone I meet who has gone through the same thing, they will never be alone.  Comrades.  Healing.  Helping.  I know not what God intends as a career for me—and honestly I may never have one—but I know whose hearts pull me to them.  The hurting, lost women who have suffered similar hurts.  One day I'll be strong enough to share my story.  One day I'm going to show women that living life afterwards isn't impossible.  That what is seen as a curse is a gift.  Kellie's story being shared encourages me—she encourages me.  And maybe that in itself will stir a ripple effect.

Day 275

Every hour we spent together

Lives within my heart

—When Somebody Loved Me, Sarah McLachlan

My mind traces the lines of mementos in the recesses of our friendships.  No more.

Most friendships are transient.  Resting only for a second on the whims and seasons of God, taking flight in what seems like an all too soon time.

Scorn.  Sadness.  Brevity.  Remembrance.  Acceptance.  Time brings acceptance.  Understanding.  Good memories.  Of what things were, of what it meant to look into a friend’s eyes and laugh, or cry, together.

Heirlooms.  The heirlooms of precious memories are what cause us not to repeat the same mistakes again, the realization that the hurt helped us learn—that this help has caused healing, in some twisted way.

My mind holds years of precious memories.  Painful ones as well.  Words spoken carelessly, harshly, deftly aimed to severe.  Actions of disregard, whether of subtle, intent, accident, or obvious in nature, all painful.  Bury these memories, but leave a tombstone, so that it may read instructions on your heart for the days to come, to new relationships born.

Here lies the lost friendship, dead by dishonesty, or...

Too soon we lost to selfishness the hearts of one another what could have been eternity, or...

Here lies a beautiful season that bore love.  And though absence initially causes despair, remember the hearth that warmed out hearts so that this should cause us to be better in not just better days, but the trials, heeding whatever actions made us feel most loved in times of despair.

Friendships end.  The world continues on its axis, both unforgiving and bearing overwhelming love at the same time.  Regretfully remember nothing, and instead joyously remember the moments you felt loved, when you loved them most, waving a loving a farewell to a past that couldn’t remain a future and look onward to the stores God will continue to set before you.

A simple truth is this, sometimes it’s too late to save a friendship—and many times, they’re not meant to be saved at all, having served His divine purpose—but always recall, should the day begin again, should the light of His creation fill this earth in a new day, it is never too late to be a better friend.

Lonely and forgotten,

I'd never thought she'd look my way

And she smiled at me and held me just like she used to do

Like she loved me, when she loved me

...You will be missed, because your seat will be empty. The day after tomorrow, toward evening, go to the place where you hid when this trouble began, and wait by the stone Ezel. I will shoot three arrows to the side of it, as though I were shooting at a target. Then I will send a boy and say, ‘Go, find the arrows.’ If I say to him, ‘Look, the arrows are on this side of you; bring them here,’ then come, because, as surely as the Lord lives, you are safe; there is no danger. But if I say to the boy, ‘Look, the arrows are beyond you,’ then you must go, because the Lord has sent you away. And about the matter you and I discussed—remember, the Lord is witness between you and me forever.” 1 Samuel 20:18-23

...Then they kissed each other and wept together—but David wept the most.  Jonathan said to David, “Go in peace, for we have sworn friendship with each other in the name of the Lord, saying, ‘The Lord is witness between you and me, and between your descendants and my descendants forever. ’” Then David left, and Jonathan went back to the town. 1 Samuel 20:41-42

Day 274

I am so proud of myself.

There is not one other moment that compares to this.  Not when I graduated high school, though that was a feat.  Not when I was accepted into a college—that was a surprise.  Not when I moved 2,000 miles away from home, even though that was a new chapter in my life.  Or even when I got my first job.  No, no, this is much different.

This has been the first solid event of momentum driving parallel to the will of Christ—a challenge of obedience.  And it’s taken a long time to be here.  Maybe that’s why it is so satisfying.

Tomorrow will officially mark nine months of this challenge.  Nine months of purposeful singleness.  Nine months of intentional growth.  Nine months of conscientiously navigating friendships, feelings, and purity.

In a mere three months, it will be over, only to open the doors to a new challenge, if I do decide to date.

All this “training”—the reassembling of my heart and its focus will be tested in ways it hasn’t been yet.

And there are questions.  Will I make myself too available once the challenge is over?  Will I relinquish the right of pursuit to men?  Will my words and actions continue to be honorable?  To kiss or not to kiss?  Will I take relationships slower?  Faster?  How different will I really be?

Bryan shared one thought that has remained with me since he recounted it weeks ago.  When he and wife Korie first were married, he reminisced on how little they had.  I don’t think it’s farfetched to say they didn’t have much, but what they did have—each other—was all they needed at the time.  Those years, he said, were his favorite.

I play and imagine a husband of my own, and our beginning years.  The next man—if there is a next man—who loves me, the one who marries me, I will know for certain this love—with everything I’ve learned—will be much, much different than anything I’ve felt or experienced before.

I’ve dated men for sport.  I’ve dated men for what they can give me.  I’ve dated men for whom I’ve settled.  Men have dated me for sport.  Men have dated me for what I can give them.  And men have settled for me.  Reason upon wrong reason.  Hurt upon hurt.  I have the opportunity to love differently now.  To be different.  To see differently.

This year of singleness has and will provide a sense of clarity that prior to this I’ve never possessed.  Clarity.  Clarity for vision.  To see.  Clarity to see myself as a Godly woman.  Clarity to see a Godly man.  And a vision to see two Godly forces come together, for Christ.

Obedience has given me more than I ever imagined, which is amazing, since being obedient is not something we do for ourselves, but something we do born of trust, of desire to exemplify reverence and love to our Father.

But that’s the way it normally happens, isn’t it?  We end up doing things out of love for Him, and He always ends up outdoing us in love.

I hope He is proud of me.

God, I’d never thought I’d say this, but thank You for all those horrible love stories that came before You in my life.  Having walked through each of them let me learn so much—mostly, what love is not.  And, God, thank You so much for our love story, for You showing me what love is.  It is because You love me that I even stand a chance of loving someone else.  Thank You in advance for whatever future love may come along.  I pray that this time meant for You is not in vain.  That if there is a heart for me out there, that I can be a blessing to him.  Should there not be anyone, let my love be cultivated still for others and spread among your children in ways that bless their lives.  The reassurance is, I know You would not let me be a helpmate to any man who doesn’t pursue the latter statement anyway.  It’s a win-win-win situation.  I feel safe in Your hands, and, maybe, that has been the hidden purpose of this OYC all along.

Day 271

The dark terrifies me.

Some nights, such as tonight, I sleep with a crescent of light shining from the bedroom corner as if to ward off the menacing shadows of the unseen.

In many ways, this is the same terror I feel over love.

The only thing offering more fear than never loving again is loving again.

Love.

Have I ever known true love outside of the Father?  Have I ever given or been an example of true love to the men to whom I've given my heart?  Or was the heart I believed I had given only scraps of flesh fashioned in a way mimicking and mocking the true virtues of true love?

Will I be hurt again?  Will I hurt someone?  How do I protect the men in my life from me?

This very fear and the calling to honor the sons of Our Father have made me conscious of interactions with the opposite sex.  I do my best to be purposeful.  Calculated.  Careful.

How I engage my brothers presently is very different from days before my salvation.  The longer the OYC continues, the more I realize this, and the stranger it is to see myself have changed in such a way.

I don't pursue men.

I keep a distance from men to whom I am attracted.

I also keep at arm's length from men I feel may be attracted to me.

What began as an effort to only honor my OYC has translated into training for years to come.  I don't flirt.  I don't extend inappropriate invitations.  I hardly extend invitations at all.  Above all else, honor.  Honor is protection.  For some men, the best protection for their hearts is not being friends.  For other men, the best honor is to remove myself from the friendship should I sense myself wanting something more.

As much as this challenge has been about growing into a better person just for me, just for God, it has also very much focused on retraining myself in interaction with men.

It'll be interesting to see how this plays out after the challenge is over.  Not pursuing men.  Will I become so bored of men not pursuing me that I start in on my old ways?  Or will I have trained myself to the best of my ability to be a woman who continues to honor not only herself, but those around, and most importantly, her husband?

As much as I've wanted to be dating these last few weeks—more in part to those dating around me than an actual desire in myself to want to date—I realize that in having only 3 months left of this challenge, I owe it to myself, to my future relationships, to my future husband, to God—to not focus on my lack of dating or even a fear of future love, but to presently be in attendance of learning and training myself diligently in the ways of honoring men to the best of my ability.  I realize the goal of this challenge is not just to finish it, but to develop myself in such a way that it carries over, having invited God to create in me a completely new heart toward my brothers.

Having spent all years up until now treating men as a commodity won't easily and quickly change.  But if I wrestle with this heartily enough, and if I learn to trust myself around men, eventually I will be able to trust the men around me.

And maybe the terror I feel about love will not hang so dark as the shadows of the night then, and the light that is emitted will be enough to shower away the fear of falling in love again.  Cascades of light that stem from a guarded heart, sweeping against years of conscious effort, can cause what flows from it to be a source of unwilted redemption and overwhelming fruit.

Day 270

"Girls don't know what they want," my friend said tonight.

And I think he's right.

A lot of times we don't know what we want.

Our minds change constantly.

Happy about being single.  Sad about being single.  Flip out when a guy asks me out.  Then feel sad the guy I want to ask me out hasn't asked me out.  Single.  Dating.  Fasting.  Happy.  Sad.  Upset.  Gah, shoot me already.

You know what, I'm happy single.  I'm happy in this season of my life.  It's so hard to fight the flesh.  But I'm happy in this moment.  And I've decided to figure out my indefinite singleness after my challenge is definitely up.

So there, emotions.  Take that.