Day 223

The cool thing about not trusting God is when He shows you exactly why you should and you realize you were an idiot for not doing so in the first place.

This last week was spent among friends.  So many different friends.  And I can’t even remember how many times I laughed.  But tonight was special.

When you think God can’t, He can.  Redemption.  Grace.  Love.

Why was I so angry?  Why was I so distrusting?

Sitting across from friends tonight I was just in awe of what an idiot I am.  Like, how can I not feel loved?  Forgiven?  A part of a group?

I may not have a set community anymore, but I’m loved, and what’s more, I’m loved through my stupidity.

There are friendships where you have to work at feeling comfortable with another person.  There are acquaintances that never warm up to me.  There are people around me I doubt even like me or care to get to know me.  I see them more often than other people in my life.

And I think that’s why when I sit down with people who just exude an aura of hey-I’m-here-to-laugh-and-I-don’t-care-what-you-think-of-yourself-because-I-love-you-because-God-loves-me, I just feel at home.

And I’ve missed that feeling for so long.  I’m a big enough idiot to walk away from it, and big enough idiot to complain about the path God takes me down.

Redemption, forgiveness, and grace are amazing things.  A friend who loves you, great.  A friend who you screw over and hurt, and loves you through it, and accepts that we’re all sinners—there’s something rare in that friendship.  Something to be treasured.  Because not only is God trying to do something through that, but they’re letting themselves be used by Him.

And I’m just so thankful that I can laugh with people I’ve hurt.  I’m so thankful they love me enough to try, to open themselves up again to me even though I’ve hurt them.  I’m so thankful for new friendships, for people who are open to my goofiness and ditzy-ness.  I’m so thankful for the people who let me be myself and love me for it and hug me when they see me and laugh at what I say or do or really whatever it takes to make me feel loved.

I don’t know what God has planned for me during these next months.  I don’t know who will be in my life and at what capacity, but I sure do treasure these moments He gives—the ones that shine His light and love on a heart that otherwise is so, so lost and insecure.

Thank you to my friends.  A big thank you to God.  And a big happy birthday to the beautiful, thoughtful, hilarious, fashionable, voluminous-haired Lauren Sullins.  I hope we’re friends for a long time to come, and thank you for loving me enough to let me share in your night of celebration!  Glad you were born :)

“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.  Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate (Luke 15:22-23).

Day 219

I don’t know when it happened.

Maybe it was when Ava started crying…
And I realized that I could be a part of a child’s life without having to be a mom.  Holding her and loving on her gave me so much joy.  And if I never have kids, I can still love the children of those around me like I have the heart of a mom.  I can still experience smiles, laughs, heartbreaks, and love.

Maybe it was when we went shopping…
And I realized that even though I don’t have a large group of friends, God gave me a friend who can make me laugh, cares about me, and we can just chill and shop at Target and grab dinner and relate to one another in a very chill, laid back way.  That’s all I ever wanted—a friend who can encourage me and listen, but also shoot the breeze.  We don’t always have to have deep conversation, sometimes we can just enjoy the little things in life.  If I never have a big group—the “family” I imagined, that’s okay.

Maybe it was when I realized time changes everything and nothing…

Sitting across from her on the sofa, I came face to face with all the struggles we had gone through separately, and realized that being apart didn’t matter.  I can still be so close to someone even if it’s been years since I’ve seen them.  Maybe I realize some friendships don’t really dissolve even if it seems like time has taken us away from each other.  That friendship is still there, waiting to shine light and love in future situations in amazing ways.

Maybe it was when she walked into a room of family and friends…

And I realized I was a part of it.  I was loved enough to share in a special moment.  I felt special.  And I felt blessed to stand by as she and her new fiancé told their engagement story.  Again, I realized, quality over quantity.  And if one person loves me right now, then the gape in my heart should be a little less.

Maybe it was when he smiled at me…

And I realized I felt safe.  I felt safe with him, plus all my other guy friends.  I realized I am happy.  I’m happy being single.  I’m happy to have such great men in my life who devote their hearts to Christ.  I’m blessed to watch as these friends begin to date—to watch them pursue women and honor them.  It gives me hope one day that I should find a man who treats me likewise.  And I like having my guy friends—no pressure to be something I’m not, because there are no expectations.  I can appreciate them as a sister does a brother, no threat from either side of unwanted feelings.

And as I watch the world around me, I realize there's some happiness in me.  Though there are everyday annoyances and a heart that one day longs to be loved by one man, I am happy.  I’m happy not dating, I’m happy as a single girl, I’m happy as a friend, I’m happy as an employee.  I don’t have everything I want, but I have everything I need right now.

And now’s the time to soak it up.  Every.  Single.  Moment.  Enjoy the friendships.  Enjoy the rain.  Enjoy the small trips.  Enjoy the time alone.  Enjoy the cup of coffee.  Enjoy being goofy.

And that is exactly what I’m going to do.

Who’s with me?

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice (Philippians 4:4).

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells secure (Psalm 16:9).

Day 205

I woke up at 5:30 in the morning, painfully cold.

For the third morning in a row, the set-to-freezing air conditioning in the beach house refused to let me sleep.  It was obvious God had bigger plans for me than a few extra hours of rest.  I heeded the call, albeit uncomfortably, and rose.

Before the rest of the house awoke, I showered, and made my way back to the beach for one last visit.

The morning was still.  Peaceful.  I walked down the row of colorful houses, admiring the freshness of the day.  Quietly, I began to sing...

Savior I come, quiet my soul, remember

Redemption's hill, where Your blood was spilled for my ransom

Everything I once held dear, I count it all as lost

I hummed a little as I reached the top of the stairs right before the beach.  I sat and surveyed the ocean in all its morning glory.  The sand.  The blues of the water.  The quiet sky.  It was all much too beautiful and as the lyrics continued to run through my mind, the inevitable happened.

I started crying.  Almost to the point to where I was sobbing.

Everything I once held dear, it’s lost.  In my mind, I recounted where I stood a year ago.  Exactly to the day.  A week from today, last year, something would happen that would strike a fire—an initimate implosion that would change my life forever.  And I was fearful.  I was hurting.  I was in a terrible place.  I was a terrible person making terrible decisions.

Despite everything—everything—He stopped me.

He loved me enough to stop me.

And it’s exactly His love that brought on the outpouring of emotion in front of His beautiful creation this morning.

Redemption.  Much of this trip was an opportunity for redemption.

He gave me the chance to do certain things over.  To act differently.  To speak differently.  To be different.  And maybe most importantly for this time in my life—to see the difference.

I almost can’t believe just how much has changed since May of 2011.

Changes I had always deep down desired but never had reason or strength to pursue…He answered.  And I feel it.  I feel how I’ve changed.  And I feel Him.  I feel it like I can feel the wind on my face, the ocean waves lapping at my toes, the sand beneath my feet.

I know He exists, because who I am now—this complete transformation—has nothing to do with me or who I was.  I had not the strength, the will, nor the desire to change until He came into my life and rescued me.

He could have let me drown in my ocean of sin.  He could have let me die.  But He didn’t.

I am so grateful to God for showing me that I am not who I was 365 days ago.  I am so honored and humbled that He met me where I was and tore me from my worthless pursuits.  I am so thankful that He reminds me from where I came, and pushes me further, encouraging me to drive closer to Him.

And the closer I draw to Him, the farther away I walk from myself.

Today was a reminder of what was, what is, and because of Whose grace and compassion and love and righteousness and mercy that I am saved.

As I stood from my seat, I breathed a silent farewell to the image of majesty set before me, and wept tears of gratitude, humility, and love.  I feel Him now more than ever.  And it’s encouraging, overwhelming, scary, reassuring, and unbelievable all at once.

Day 183

Happy six months of singleness to me!

I have been waiting to say those words for months now, because this is absolutely the most exciting time of my life and I am so happy to be able to celebrate my obedience to God and His faithfulness.

I am prospect-free.  I am proposition-free.  I am free.  And, truly, I am filled with joy and the Spirit like I have never been before, and it's because of Christ that I stand here today and say that.

The week leading up to my six month anniversary was an interesting one.

God had been bringing relationships to the forefront of my focus.  Not romantic relationships, but relationships of every kind.

Long term relationships.

Short term relationships.

Relationships that came to a premature end.

Relationships that weren't honoring.

Relationships that have been continuously honoring and honorable.

Relationships that live but for four hours or for two minutes.

Relationships affected by other relationships.

And I promise I wasn't expecting any of this to be addressed when I stepped into church this morning.  But what did God do through Bryan?  Slapped me with some deep thoughts.

When I left my former church, I left the community expecting to find something better.  I thought I could walk away and into something more holy, less messy, and more loving.

I must've decided to ignore the fact that we're all sinners, because a few months into the new church I was struck with a multitude of struggling relationships.

Can I be friends with this person without hurting this person?

This person dated this person and they're not on good terms; which should I be friends with?

This person hurt me; how can I avoid them?

I hurt this person; how can I avoid them?

This person hurt that person; I'm going to avoid the entire situation.

What started out as a fresh start didn't feel so fresh once I started getting to know people and the relationships that had come and gone, and—not ignoring my own sin—started adding my own hurtful situations into the mix.

A mess.  A complete mess.

And it hurts.  And it sucks.  And Bryan's right.  A lot of it comes from not knowing how to navigate through, around, and in sin.

People have hurt me.  I've hurt people.  Friendships have been compromised.

As Bryan finished the sermon today, I had a few people on my heart that I wanted to reach out to and apologize.  And I could see God pushing me in that direction, because he brought two of those five people to me right after service.

The first half of the OYC has been successful in pulling me out of dependencies on men and relationships.  And when I first started the challenge, my only goal was to become a woman that a Godly man would want.

Now, months later, my goal is to become a Godly woman.  Because in that, there is a key that can unlock all other possible doors.  What it means to be a good wife.  What it means to be a good friend.  What it means to be a good missionary.  What it means to LOVE.

How faithful is my love to Christ if I'm not faithful and loving to His children?

Loving each other isn't always easy.  In fact, it's pretty difficult.

But it's worth it.

Why?

Because being angry or hurt isn’t worth it.

It isn’t worth letting yourself hurt.  Or damaging more relationships.  Or disappointing God.  And when I examine my hurt, the deeper issue is pride and saying that I’m too important to be hurt.  And I’m not important.  Sorry, I’m really not.

Who I am is not more important than the love that should be extended to my brothers and sisters.

Pride is not a worthy cost to separate me from my family in Christ, which, consequently separates me from Christ Himself.

And, really, what is worth that?

Happy six months, Jamie...see you on the other side of six more months.  Let’s do this!

Day 38

I remember the sweater I wore on our first date.

Funny, for a girl who has a terrible memory, the things I remember.

I still have it hanging in my closet, and when I wear it my mind drifts back to that cold January day.

It was my favorite turtleneck.  Deep orange and soft, it not only kept me warm, but complemented my then-jet-black hair.  As I drove to meet him, I stopped at the traffic light at Germantown Parkway and Walnut Grove.  It was then I heard Shinedown’s 45 for the first time.

Funny, the things I remember.

The sadness of the words wooed my heart.  I felt the pain though I knew nothing of it at that time.  It would be two years later, like a prophecy, that the lyrics of this song would punctuate my life.

Whatever happened to the young man’s heart?

Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart

Last December, my heart would drown in its decaying state, and I would be swallowed by the same pain sung within that sad melody.

It was today as I dressed for work that I realized I was pulling on a sweater I had not worn in a year.

This would be the very sweater I wore on the last day I saw him.

Funny what I remember.

Black and white.  What irony.

Things were black and white that snowy night.  He didn’t want me.  I wanted him.  He had moved on.  I hadn’t.  He had lied.  I had cried.  He was gone.  And I couldn’t breathe. 

My whole life changed in that moment, and for a year, memories of him plagued me like an incurable illness.

For a girl with a terrible memory, I remembered so much.

In a month, our year apart will be dated, and I will think of the 365 days that have passed—a testimony to God’s unfailing love.  So much can happen in a just year.

Three years ago began the most painful, but beautiful journey of my lifetime.  Two years ago sparked authentic curiosity.  One year ago I died in heartbreak.  Today, my heart is alive in love.

Thoughts of him now feel like I am swimming through the ashes of another life, because it was another life.

As time passes, God clears more of these ashes from my heart.  Every day, those ashes of my past become less and less as love—His love—delicately sweeps them from the darkened spaces within me.

Those ashes of 2010?  Yeah, redeemed by the light of 2011.

Dance parties at work.  The first time I tried apple cider.  Andy Stanley sermons.  Meeting a Persian.  The dance floor at the Rumba Room.  A salsa inspired Justin Bieber mix.  The one-way street that was not so one way.  An uncleanable crockpot.  A scone at Panera.  A delicious dirt-cake.  Tables at Starbucks where amazing conversations were had.  Couches with strategy.  Creepy facial hair.  Boots that were worn out to Black Friday.  Conversation hearts.  Breakfast at CKs.  A terrible Muppet movie.  A warm bonfire.  Nertz and Signs.  The day I came home from the Connection Classes and wept out of joy.

Years from now, when God and I sit down for coffee, I will share all the ashes of my life with Him and thank Him for the dark places, praise Him for redeeming those dark places, and throw myself at His feet in gratitude for the light He would shine down upon me in every moment of my life.

Day 36

“I don’t have to…I get to.”

As the pastor continued teaching, I couldn’t let go of those words.

All week I’ve been praying about what of my story to share with my Sunday group.

How deep can I go?  What can they handle?  What can I handle?  What can I say to keep them from running?

Throughout the week I heard God telling me to tell it all.  To share everything.  Not out of guilt.  Not out of shame.  But to tell of His grace, His glory, how He pulled me away from my poisonous, addicted life.  The things He used to change my life aren’t pretty, but God builds beauty out of ashes, and, baby, I was burnt.

I don’t have to tell them, but I get to stationed itself in my heart.

As 5:30 rounded the clock, I was in a panic.  My heart was literally beating out of my chest.  Please let them love me after this, I prayed.

A friend reminded me yesterday that being obedient to the will of God is a lot better than wishing you had been.  And tonight I was obedient to God, and I shared my life with these girls who have so quickly become my family.  I don’t know how each felt afterwards, but I heard God saying, "One.  One needs to hear this."  And so I followed Him, knowing that if He said "only one" then that's the one that mattered.

At the end of the night, my eyes were met by gazes full of abounding love and grace, just as if Christ Himself had been sitting there, listening to me.

After the last few girls left, I curled up in front of my fireplace, partly from emotional exhaustion, and partly just taking a moment to praise God while Chris Tomlin and Audrey Assad’s song Winter Snow played on REPEAT.  The first time I heard this song was in my car, and it brought tears to my eyes.  I’m assuming it talks of God sending Christ to us, but my heart took on a meaning of its own.

It makes me think of how God didn’t bring me to Him.  He wasn’t quiet or gentle.  He saved me by ripping everything from me.

Could've come like a mighty storm

With all the strength of a hurricane

You could've come like a forest fire

With the power of heaven in Your flame

And You did, for me.

You could've swept in like a tidal wave

Or an ocean to ravish our hearts

You could have come through like a roaring flood

To wipe away the things we've scarred

And You did, for me.

For me, He did so much.  He tore away at the life I knew.  He took it from me by force, piece by painful piece.

What are you afraid of?  I hear Him gently.  This is the path I gave you.  Would you want anything different, anything less?  If they love Me, they love you.  Don’t let your fear keep you.  Peace.

Peace.  And I am at peace tonight, because He fell from the sky in the night to the earth below, and saved me.  And I get to tell that story.

Day 16

I’m sitting here crying, because I saw your picture.

I’m sitting here crying, because I think of things you said.

I’m sitting here crying, because you moved on like I meant nothing.

I’m sitting here crying, because I can’t forgive.

God, I so desperately want to forgive.  Take these hurts from me.  Take this pain from my heart.  I’m tired of crying over all this hurt.  All these years of pain—take this cup from me!

Please help me heal, because I don’t want this pain to destroy me.

__________________________________________________________________________

One

I want to forgive you because...like me, you had been picked on all your life.  Like me, you were hurt.  Your height, the shape of your head, you were just as much of an outcast as I was.  And so were your friends.  You were never cool.  Neither were they.  And as juniors, y'all had to stoop as low as belittling freshman girls to boost your ego.  I knew about your lives and looking back I see how empty they were.  We were young, had no idea what we were doing, and fought for survival.  I want to forgive you because you're not what love is for me anymore.  I will never go through what I went through while I was with you with anyone else.  I have grown from that experience.  I honestly hope you have, too.  I want to forgive you because it's been 10 years of un-reconciled pain and it's time to let go.  Now that I have God in my life and know what love is, I know you're not it, you were never it, and you're just an illusion in the desert that served to parch and teach me.  You are not what God intended for me for my forever.

Two

I want to forgive you because...you were as confused and as lonely as I was.  You knew something was wrong, and while there was a piece of you that wanted just to shut up and date me, you couldn't.  You just couldn't find an easy way to get out of it.  I forgive you, because I know what fear feels like.  I know what it's like to be trapped.  You did the best you could, and you did what was right for you, which inevitably was what was right for me.  You weren't on track with God then, and it is my deepest prayer that you are at a church with a community with whom you can fellowship.  I hope you haven't lost your fire.  I want to forgive you, because we were both lost.  You are not what God intended for me for my forever.

Three

I want to forgive you because...you are just as screwed up as me when it comes to sex.  We both sought validation and instant gratification from our interaction.  Really, I'm mad at myself for letting you treat me that way.  I can't forgive you, because I couldn't forgive myself.  I want to forgive you, because I knew better.  I could've stopped.  It all could've been avoided.  I want to forgive you because you know what it is to hurt like me.  You know what it's like to hide out of fear of people knowing who you are.  I want to forgive you, because we all make mistakes—terrible ones—even when our mind strongly tells us differently, our flesh is too powerful.  I want to forgive you, because I want to be able to pray for your marriage to be a happy, healthy one where the love of God thrives.  Mostly, I want to apologize, and I want to forgive you because you are not what God intended for me for my forever, and I should've never expected you to fill that space.

Four

I want to forgive you because...I know your heart.  I know there is a terrible hurt somewhere inside of you that is driving you to overcompensate.  Instead of relying on the love of Christ to save you, you are trying to redeem yourself.  I want to forgive you, because I know that pain.  I know the pain of trying to take control of everything in order to fix my life.  I want to be able to pray for you, for your wellness, for your walk.  I want to be able to forgive you, because I know your actions are out of hurt and self-preservation.  God never intended you to be my forever and I need to let you go, because everything you did to me was out of a hurt in your heart that had nothing to do with me or who I was.

Five

I want to forgive you because...I thank God for you.  For it is because of you that I know true love exists.  You showed me I could love again and be better and love better.  You showed me what having a best friend meant.  You showed me what happiness could feel like.  I thank God for the time we had together, both good and bad.  And as scared as you are, I'm scared, too.  You are not who God intended for me for my forever.  I want to pray for your happiness and salvation and growth.  I want to pray for your future wife, that you'll love, protect, honor, and serve her.  I want to forgive you, because I love you.

Six

I want to forgive you because...my worth is in God.  I sought out in you what I should be seeking in God.  And it was not your responsibility to provide that.  I want to forgive you, because I know our flesh is weak.  I know what it's like to be lonely.  I want to forgive you, because I love you as a brother.  As a child of God.  I do not want to label you as anything other than a child of God.  You are not what God intended for my forever, and I pray for both of us, that our walks will reflect purity and steadfast love.