You won't feel it a lot of the time

I grew up in an emotional church. I think it skewed my thinking with regards to faith. It wasn't on purpose of course; it was just how I processed what it meant to saunter along the path of faith and life. I remember every Sunday seeing and hearing cries, shouts for joy, laughing, and loud prayers. We were encouraged to check our hearts before altar calls and communion. And I was plagued with anxiety when someone asked the infamous question, "Are you in the center of God's will?" I left for retreats ready to change my life and came home to a crash and burn of emotions when I didn't set out to lead my friends to Christ at school. These experiences led to a lot of soul searching, poems, Counting Crows listening, and journaling prayers. I was constantly over-analyzing my spiritual life and who I was. The trouble though was I didn't know who I was...and who really does in middle school and high school.


When I got to college and my 20s I didn't have my church to fall back on. I was on my own and I looked constantly for emotional peace. I remember praying for peace and waiting on that warm feeling to fill my chest. I took this feeling as God's favor and presence. Phew, I wasn't alone. As you can imagine the onset of anxiety and depression was a HUGE spiritual downfall for me. When you feel nothing and care about nothing then your mind generally leads to the conclusion that God is gone, left the building.

I once asked him to move a chair, just a nudge or something. It was one of those dark night of the soul nights and I needed a sign. I asked for a chair to move and the chair stayed put. I thought I was on my own and it wasn't so much God's fault as mine. I knew he was perfect and kind and therefore it must have been me.

Thank God for counseling! I'm not sure where I would be now if I hadn't hit serotonin's bottom. Sometimes it takes complete destruction to start over. Through a lot of counseling and personal ground work I slowly started to realize that it wasn't about feeling him so much as trusting him. I still struggle with this everyday but the good news is that I know the truth now. God has never left and he was sitting with me on the couch that night holding me, probably wondering why I needed a chair to fall instead of just holding his hand.

Emotional experiences are awesome; human emotions are powerful and when Christ touches each one it's pretty cool. But the truth is you won't feel it a lot of the time. And that's ok. No one really wants to be in a relationship with constant highs and lows. Commitment comes in the form of every day trusting and walking. I try to remind myself this and I thought you might need to be reminded too. God is always with us, Immanuel.

GRACE

I'm a softy for grace. I love it! I love an apology that melts the angry heart. Grace is like magic to me, it's a clean cut through strife. And that's how I know I guess that God is in the center of it, driving the heart toward peace. No other concept, noun, and verb can penetrate anger as well as brokenness. See? Magic.


At work today my friends and I were talking about people that constantly get away with bad behavior and crazy choices. My co-worker asked the question, "Why do you think God protects people like that," and I had to stop and ponder why as well. Why would someone get away with whatever "it" is while the innocent suffer? And suddenly I remembered one of my most favorite things Jeff has taught me. He told me once that our entire lives are God's pursuit of us. The E-N-T-I-R-E length of our lifespan is chased by God. He doesn't see levels of sinful actions, just sin. And he definitely sees us all the same, broken humans needing Him. Some know it and some don't, but regardless we are in the same boat of life.

We of course have penalties here on earth for our actions and different choices render different punishments. So it's natural for us to assume that God protects us with grace because we think we are not that bad. I lie and gossip sometimes but I've never killed someone or broken up a marriage so I'm different. I deserve grace and I'm sorry when I screw up. I'm one of the good ones. (No, Kate...) But what about those that show no remorse and have actions that don't result in the consequences we believe are due them? That's when we ask questions like my friend asked. And that's when we hopefully remember the power of grace and not our false sense of goodness.

I don't know why God does the things he does. I don't want to know. I just want to constantly remember that God wants our hearts, ALL of the hearts that walk this earth. Grace is one of His greatest tools and the best reminder to each of us that none are deserving of it.

Good Things

Lately I've been bugging Jeff with questions about the future...things he wants for himself and for us. And then I answer the questions for myself, going on about my dreams and wonderful things I want. It's silly but I think we all do it. It's fun to dream about things we want for ourselves. Sometimes I think about what I want for my faith too because I think it would be unanimous if I asked my fellow Christians if they wanted good things from God. Forgiveness, blessings, hope, and love...ya know, the good stuff.


I don't think however that I would desire the good stuff for those I don't particularly care for. It's not that I would desire terrible things for them but I suppose I just wouldn't think at all about them. My M.O. is just to ignore those I don't like. My thought process is honestly, ugh he or she is annoying, mean, or etc. and I am just going to go out of my way to ignore, avoid, and secretly harbor ill-will. He or she may win a journal entry from me or a counseling session but then I attempt to just move on. I may even avoid gossiping about them. I'm such a good Christian.

But then, if I let myself, I think about their feelings. Would he or she care that I'm bad-mouthing them? Does God want good things for them? Would God want them to grow in their faith and receive the same love that I desire? Oh dear...yes. And then in that moment my fuse is snuffed out because I know I am not better than he or she. I'm not more IMPORTANT or kinder or more special. We are the same, and I deserve nothing more than them just because I believe I am the good one or the right one in the scenario in my mind. Entitlement is a terrible thing to behold in the faith journey. I'm not sure we wear it well.

So where does that leave us...or even this post? I think it's the beginning of a conversation that you have to start asking your heart. And if it's an honest talk then know you'll feel pretty bad at first. Nobody likes to be wrong and no one wants to willingly think upon their enemies or that maybe God wants us to love them. Love the homeless? Sure. Love our neighbors? Sure. Love babies? Of course. Love our families? Yep. But love the one that you just knoooow is dumb AND wrong? (silence) And remember that God wants the best for he or she? (silence).

I think silence is an ok start to this conversation. Silence is time to think and time to dwell on what the great Counselor is attempting to teach. Renewing the mind takes time and so does loving others.

I would rather learn to love than label another person as someone I want to ignore and stuff away in my drawer of people that have hurt me or been miffed at.

things that are not

Just read an article in Relevant magazine about instagram and the other social media sites that are setting us up for failure, pride, and self-deprecation. I think we've heard the argument before; it's no news story that we're all living beautiful lives within the confines of photo-editing. I'm pretty sure EVERYONE and EVERYTHING looks better on instagram. And yet we still feed into the theory that someone out there is living a better and more fabulous life. Or maybe we think we're the fabulous one. Ugh, I hate when I'm the latter.


We're terrified to be real. We're taught to Keep Calm and Carry On. This past week our landlord was coming over to put in a new water heater and I went nuts over cleaning up. I felt a responsibility to have the house look spotless and be as shabby-chic as possible. I wanted him to think we were living the high life in his house. That we took care of it immensely and that it was well-decorated too. We were cool and duh, he needed to see it. But cleaning on a Monday night is not Jeff & Kate, not in the least bit. And our house is not pinterest-iffic. It's a condo in Alpharetta. The laundry is never done! Jeff leaves his shoes and random cups of water everywhere (sorry babe, you've been outed). The grout in the bathroom is forever gray, I can't waste anymore time scrubbing, it just looks grimy even when clean. Most of our furniture is old or from a relative and only once in a blue moon are our counters clear. But it's our home, and it will always be our first little abode.

So this got me thinking. Remember those Dove ads where women in plain white undies and bras are standing in a line and we can clearly see that none of them are a size 2? We LOVED those ads, and why we loved them is because those women look like us. They're real! Dove got it right and we should follow suit. So here my friends is the real me, my open journal for you and to remind me that God loves the things that are not...

God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things--and the things that are not--to nullify the things that are 1 Cor 1:28

I have blackheads...despite the fact that I use blackhead scrubbing face wash.

I have cellulite on my thighs and butt and most recently, my knees. wtf? I have gained 17lbs since I got married. Perfect.

I sometimes don't wash my hair.

I lose my temper and curse. (I'm sorry mom)

I am moody and expect others to accept this.

I cannot just eat one chip. Bread is my thorn and first love.

I love instagram because it makes my teeth look whiter and skin look clearer.

And many, many more...

Book Review

I haven't dabbled much in mental health memoirs. I assumed it would make me sad and/or make me believe I was suddenly dealing with their exact illness as well. Actually as I type this I am laughing because most people probably haven't dabbled in mental health memoirs either. When was the last time you went to B&N in search of a feel-good book about depression...


The crazy thing is that I did find a feel-good book about depression/anxiety. I haven't cackled this much from a book in a long time. I'm rapidly turning e-pages and rereading quotes to poor Jeff as he tries to "get there" with me with absolutely no context.

The book is written as a straightforward story by an ordinary guy. He has a full-time job, loves Jesus, and is trying to be a good husband and father to his wife and little ones. Oh and he's riddled with the bullets of anxiety and OCD.

My counselor originally sent me the link to his book because she thought I'd relate and be comforted. She was right, as usual. I loved his humor and related to his struggles from the time he was little up until the present. This isn't a how-to book or even a beautiful story with a nice ending. It's just an honest narrative about functioning and sometimes not functioning with a rapid mind. And I related to every page.

It's life-giving to hear from someone that the what-if game does not go away. It just gets quieter as it gets managed. That you start over again every day, that you sometimes have to have prescription help, and that sometimes you won't know what to do or where to turn. And that God is somehow real and is not doing this or making you feel this way because you're a big fat sinner. Maybe, just maybe, it's because you're broken and live in world where difficulty is manufactured.

The book is called, "Compelled: A Memoir of OCD, Anxiety, Depression, Bi-Polar Disorder, and Faith...Sometimes," by Tim Blue.

Go. Read. It.

Anger

Anger is a powerful thing to behold. I never considered myself as a person that struggled with anger. Anxiety, worry, and distrust...you bet. But anger, no way. I don't even like conflict and yet anger has found a way into my heart. It actually feels a lot like an anxiety attack. It bubbles up and then tightens your chest like an unexpected bear hug. Maybe that's why I didn't see it coming.


But here I am, angry and probably a little pride-ridden too. What or whom I'm angry about is beside the point. People and circumstances will always frustrate you. Don't count on that NOT happening in life. The real issue at hand though is what anger does to our insides. It's like a whole world is happening in our minds that only we are privy to. We mull over past conversations, scenarios, and even fake scenarios of future occurrences we think will happen. And all the while our hearts are changing, morphing into people we wouldn't care to be friends with.

Sin is ugly like that. Remember those anti- smoking ads from the 90s that said something like, "if what happened on your inside happened on your outside, would you still smoke?" And then we see a shriveled up human head and lung set that is black, gooey, and charred. Umm gross. Kind of makes you think though, would we let anger set foot in our souls if we knew who we would become. Because at the moment I am distracted, irritable, attempting to control situations, sending words I wish I could take back, and definitely not looking to the Bible or prayer to calm my anxious heart. Not to mention the fact that I'm downing Easter Peeps like it's my job. (Sigh, emotional eating...for another blog)

I mentioned my state to a friend and he quoted a story about a woman who asked God to remove her resentment. The story ends where the woman is challenged to pray for others what she would pray for herself. So...I'm supposed to pray for good health, peace, humbleness, kindness, and the rest of the good fruits for others? Challenge indeed. But I think the story might be onto something. Prayer changes your insides too...slowly and surely weaving through holes and binding up our broken hearts.

Dear God,

I'm angry. I hate the way a lot of things are right now. And I'm prideful in what I believe is the best way to proceed in life. But you are none of those things. Change my heart as you change my loved ones and circumstances. Fill our hearts with humbleness and wisdom and remind us who is really driving. And break our hearts too if need be. If that's what it takes to melt away the stubbornness and cling to the only thing that does not sink.

Help us believe when everything says we shouldn't.

Love,

Kate Johnson

Concrete

Totally had one of those moments last night where you hear something rephrased that you think you've known all along and it rocks your world. Lately my posts have been about a struggle with measuring up and making sure God and I were a-ok. And the tension is that I should know we're ok, I've been in church my whoooole life.


My mom took us Sunday morning and night as well as Wednesday night. I've sat through felt-board Sunday school lessons, puppet shows in children's church, vacation bible schools, youth group, and so on. I was told about Jesus' love for me, about what he did on the cross, and what his resurrection really meant for us all. I should know this by heart and yet I still want to enter his good graces by not doing the wrong thing. I still fear his disappointment in me when I make a poor choice.

But last night Dot Bowen said something in Bible study that changed everything. (Dramatic phrasing I know, but it really did!)

She said, "Did you know that you cannot change the character of God?"

God is infinitely good, loving, and the author of grace. He cannot be anything but that. There is NOTHING that I do that will change his character. My sin nature cannot change his affection. Sin hurts and changes me...not him.

So there you have it; His concrete character and the way he feels about me is staying put.



Cue the music in the background...

"On Christ, the solid rock, I stand

all other ground is sinking sand"

Good News Guys

Changing the way you do anything is hard. Really hard. I went to counseling this week and for the first 15 minutes I unloaded my emotional baggage one piece at a time. I'm pretty sure I overwhelmed my counselor and the 45 precious minutes we had left. (Don't you always wish there was more time?) She looked at me and suggested that maybe we talk about 2 of my 12 crises for today. Ok, fine.

We explored the issue, questioned why I perceived it that way, and what I could do to calm the flip down. But implementing the ways isn't really the real problem. Its the perception in my mind. Its the labels I give myself and the rabbit hole of mind destruction.

Sin comes in a lot of forms. In the south we like to think it fits nicely within the realms of the "classics." Gossip, killin', lying, sex before marriage, and so on to name a few. But we've underestimated it if we think it only approaches us through the classics. We live in a fallen world, full of brokenness, and sometimes sin comes to just hang out in your mind and change you if its successful. The truth is you won't even realize your depraved mind is at work most of the time because you are sinful by nature. It will never be that difficult to do the wrong thing.

This isn't really good news to me. It kind of makes me think things are never going to get better. That I may always emotionally overeat, that I'll assume I'm not a good christian, that I'll never have energy, that I'll always criticize others so I feel good about myself, and blah blah blah. The ol' Depression cranked up.

I read in Romans today for my Bible study (catch-up reading because I bailed last week) and a couple of things really punched me in the face.

"For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.(vs. 10)...For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under the law but under grace. (vs. 14)...But thanks be to God, that you who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which you were committed. (vs. 17)" ~ Romans Chapter 6 (ESV)

I highlighted the phrases that got me because to me they showed my "part" in all this.  I am a child of God only through Jesus. He died for me, once and for all. I HAVE to consider myself dead to sin's power because my sinful mind does not own me.  I have to be committed in this relationship, authentically from my heart, and carry on to the truth that has set me free from my old way of thinking. And this mind renewing is daily, most of the time minute by minute.  Because sin is still there. But Grace is still there too and it is abounding.

This is not easy stuff to swallow and then carry on our merry way.  It is hard. But if you sit still and think back to the last time you really lost yourself in Christ, was it not the most life-giving thing?

Split in 2

Home alone tonight. Good thing too, Jeff may have thought I was losing it. ;) Been a rough day and I've been struggling through many thoughts in my heart. Truth is I've been frustrated a lot (A LOT) lately. And the even more truthful thing is that I've been frustrated with Christianity.

It just seems sooooo complicated. We're told to trust, to receive the gift, and to love Him in return. But it doesn't stay that simple. In fact things get messy, sin weaves its way through our circumstances, and we're left calling some shots, asking for forgiveness, and hiding our questioning hearts. Can't let them see, right?

I was first told about sin in children's church as a kid. They told us sin was separation from God. That when we sin we are no longer able to stay in His sight. Umm terrifying. I wasn't really sure about all the logistics but I knew God not being able to see me because of my choice was not good. I had to find a way back to Him. The rest I'm sure was told to me ( not to knock my church) about how Jesus was the bridge to get us back, but that part didn't stay with me. I went home that day with a seed planted in my heart that sometimes God couldn't look at me and it was all my fault. And so began my self-preservation and constant attempts to get back across that bridge.

I also think my anxious heart was birthed. My fear that I was not good enough. That if people really saw me would they think I was a Christian? Did I really believe I was? And the best part about growing up in church is that I knew better. We know that sin is real and that only Jesus can heal (rhyme..what what!!!!).  So why do we still act like it is up to us??? See, my frustration.

Tonight I had to bust out the Message Bible because Romans in my regular Bible wasn't cutting it. I couldn't understand Paul's heart. But thank you Eugene Peterson for telling me like it is. Romans 4:4-5 talks about a job that you just can't do. No matter how long or how hard you'll try the job won't get done. And believe me you'll try. Its a never-ending marathon. No 13.1 or 26.2 stickers for you.  BUT trusting Jesus to do the job is what builds that bridge.  Handing over the hammer, nails, and wood and dying to your own efforts sets you free. Its a gift.  We were never meant to be builders.

I made a fire tonight and laid beside it and stared (that's the crazy part I'm glad Jeff didn't walk in to see).  I watched the fire consume the log and then something really interesting happened. I watched the fire split the log in two.  And it was then that I prayed, "God, consume me. break me. split in half and burn up my efforts. I am nothing without you. Take my pride and sear it away."

Maybe someone else needed to hear that too. Or maybe it was just for me tonight. Regardless, I think peace gained some ground tonight in my heart. I wish I could go back and tell that little girl in children's church the good news.

Warning (Vulnerable)

I started a new Bible study tonight. I was excited to bring my new Bible, take notes, and be involved in something healthy.  For the next 8 weeks we will be covering Romans. Good ol' Romans. Its always been the book that reminded me that I'm not alone when I do the things I do not in fact want to do but do anyway. You with me?!

Our teacher prefaced with a different take though. She said bottom-line: Romans = by faith, I will trust God. It got me thinking; faith, trust, hope...all those things must be rooted in love. Love is the greatest gift our Heavenly Father has bestowed upon us. There is no greater love than His. But I didn't feel comforted in that. I asked myself instead do you love God? As in want to please Him through faith and trust because of my love. Ehhh scary question.  I think so. I know I'm not very good at it. But I do, right?

Suddenly I wanted to be alone in my car so I could have this conversation with God and myself.  I didn't want to be sitting in my chair constantly recrossing the opposite leg based on which thigh was asleep. I wanted out. 2 hours later I got my wish and the study ended. So here I am in bed, typing. 

I thought about Jeff and how I love him. I want to have the laundry folded so he'll have his clothes ready. I am so proud when I cook something and I know he likes it and is not just being newlywed nice. I love to plan a date that I know he'll enjoy. I do these things because I love him. I even love him right now as I listen to him snore beside me.  

I know I am in love. So why can't I be that sure about Christ. Am I really that shallow in that because I can see and touch Jeff that I am more convinced. After everything that I have been through don't I know by now? Man, I 'm frustrating.  But I think I may have it wrong.  I think you have to back up and ask yourself what does it mean to love God? Isn't it trusting him when you don't understand or pushing through a tough day because you know its the right thing to do.  Don't we do these things because of love and in return our faith is strengthened? And at the same time our love is deepened in the reliance of Him.  Kind of a fantastic little equation we got going on. 

I think I may need to chew on that for awhile. Just being honest. 

Crazy Bucket

         You have a bucket. I have a bucket. Let’s call it the bucket of crazy. It is the pail of circumstances, frustrations, and worries that begin to fill your mind and heart drop by drop; and every once in awhile your bucket bottoms out.
         I am referring to the days of course that you go a little looney tunes per say. These are the days where you are already in the hole emotionally and it gets worse from there. Your jeans are too tight so you have extra cereal because you’re sad. A project comes up at work that must be completed stat when you’re already behind. Your eyes are drooping despite the 8 hours of sleep you received the night before. A small headache forms at your temple and eases its way across your forehead like a blob of honey running down a jar. And someone asks you if you are feeling alright because you are sans makeup. I’m well thank you, just pale and haggard-looking. People always need you too; a friend or family member and you just don’t have it to give. But you’re not sure how to voice that so you just end up looking careless and out of it.
          Life’s big questions seem to appear too; What am I doing in life? What are my passions? Do I have passions? Does everyone just think I’m crazy because I take medicine? Why can’t I get it together today? I would handle this better if I’d just had my devotion, quiet time, starbucks visit or whatever we’re calling it these days. But honestly, you don’t feel close to Christ so it’s difficult to see him clearly to even run to. He isn’t up ahead of course, he is right beside you but we’re too full to notice. The bucket is teetering back and forth now and begins to spill over the edges as the bottom gives way. Definition=no rationalization, tears, desire to scream perhaps, and most likely a lashing out before lying still in bed …and its only 2:30pm.
        Listen, we’ve all been there. You’re not unstable. You’re not a bad Christian. You don’t need to Google your symptoms and I promise you’re still a good mom, wife, daughter, and sister. Your bucket just filled up a little quicker today. Figure out whatever it is you need to do to walk beside still waters with God and do that. Just that. And also, hang in there my fellow crazies.

You Matter

Thank you Dot for showing me the following truths:
I recently read a devotional email from my Bible Study teacher, Dot Bowen, about the story of Sarah, Abram, and Hagar. The story is usually focused on Abram and Sarah and a promise kept that ensured generations of God’s people to be born. It’s a great story and it reminds us that God always keeps his promises even when we mess up or attempt to take things into our own hands. Hello, Sarah asking her husband to sleep with the help because she wanted a baby?! Duh, of course she was going to despise her husband, maid, and ultimately herself with a decision like that. BUT… in the end she still got to be a mom. I think the part that really amazed me though was Hagar’s story that Dot pointed out. She had to flee because Sarah hated her and the baby she carried. She was just a young slave that had obeyed her mistress and now she was alone in the desert. And the Bible says God found her and told her what to do in the midst of her crisis. Her response is what struck me; she called out to God and named Him, “the God that sees me.”

It’s all right there in scripture. No fancy language, just simple truth. God will find you because he sees you. Can you imagine sitting in your own circumstance and God, whether you believe in Him or not, comes to your side and says, “Hey, I see You and its going to be ok.” I think we can have the tendency as humans to feel small and be one of trillions with problems. Why would my story or your story matter? And yet a girl, who slept with a very important married man, mattered. We don’t know if Hagar was a believer, all we know is that she was a slave from Egypt. But what we do know is that she recognized that God saw her and I have to believe that changed things for her. Because at the core existence of us all we just want to know we matter despite our sin and ugliness.

Bottom line: We are broken. We make crappy decisions. We get ourselves in messes. And right smack in the middle of the desert we are still noticed. Believer or not, God sees you, because you matter.

Resolutions

And it’s upon us. The. New. Year.




So it’s time to make resolutions my friends. Some I will keep and some I will add again to 2014’s list. Let’s begin with the regulars…

1) Go to gym. Like actually go. As of now LA Fitness has a sweet deal with me; I pay them annnnd they do nothing.

2) Read my Bible. Jeff bought me an awesome large print Bible for Christmas. Its pages soft, crispy, and ready.

3) Vow to complain less, gossip less, and learn silence when it would be easy to pipe up and say something negative.

4) Journal more. Hello, the first year of marriage in record will be a jewel one day. We’ve already endured blindness in the first quarter!

5) Say no, a little more, to sweets. Sugar is perfect and kind but we MUST see each other less.



And for the Newbies…

6) Take some sort of writing class or workshop. Gotta hone those skillz

7) Take a trip to somewhere I have never been. 

8) Start looking into mission trips. I’ve never been on one. Never.

9) Become more fervent in prayer.

10) See more plays with Jeff. I love theater. Maybe I’ll get to see Jeff in a play this year.



Make some for yourself too. And no worries if they do not come to fruition. It’s kind of the nature of these lists. ;)

December Hope

The holidays can be a difficult time. Maybe it’s the first year without a loved one and one less stocking to hang. Families are missing soldiers on active duty far away in the Middle East. The hospitals are busy with new diagnoses and grim circumstances. Clouds of financial crisis and unpaid bills loom over our heads with the realization that 2013 may do us in. And today there are those that are burying their little ones because of unsolicited evil last week in Connecticut. Kind of makes you wish December would be better passing us by. Everyone has a story. And maybe Christmas 2012 is one of the hard chapters.

I think it would be easy to wish the holidays away, even understandable. But I think we might miss something in the process. And no, I won’t go into commercialized sayings that Jesus is the reason for the season or that Christmas is about giving and not receiving. It’s more than nativity scenes, carols, candles held on Christmas Eve, and reading Matthew chapter one. It’s about hope. And while those are all wonderful holiday traditions they mean little without the message of hope defining them.
After the fall of man and the beginning of choice the world had little hope. Our poor choices introduced famine, murder, sickness and so on. How heartbreaking for God. I read once in a Tozer book about the attributes of God that He could only be good and that it was impossible for Him to be anything but. This truth highlighted something for me in the midst of our own present day darkness. If God can only be good and if He is the characterization of love then sending a savior in human form was the beginning of hope. Hope that in the middle of pain and tragedy that we could still hang on because someone already made a way for us. The tiny baby that grew to be the sacrificed Lamb of God changed it all. In one birth and in one death God demonstrated love through hope. And that is why we still have courage to walk through December.

Waiting

Last night I couldn’t sleep. I awoke and immediately my mind got to work. I thought of my mom and what tomorrow will hold for her and for all of us. She is waiting to hear if the cancer is back…
I wasn’t panicked as I usually would have been. I kept thinking about my eyes and how my world changed so quickly when my vision failed. But to God it was no big deal. He knew I would be prescribed the medication and that seven days later my body would react to it. He knew I would see eye specialists, miss work, cry buckets of tears, and doubt Him. He also knew my sight would slowly return as well as a new found sense of trust. I didn’t know how it would all turn out, but He did. And I guess a return of the big C would be the same. God knows the results and the next year. Nothing about His control or sovereignty has changed. Somehow I found comfort in that.
I just got off the phone with my mom. It’s back. It’s time to be carried, as I always have been. God is in control. Only now I know it’s not just a saying on a greeting card. It’s true.

30

Am I really turning 30? I feel like I’ve reached that age where time is effortless in moving; when suddenly you wake up and its 10 years later. And you say things to children about remembering when they were babies and how you can’t believe how tall they’ve become. Who I was at 20 and who I’ve grown to become are two very different girls. As my 30th approaches I can only reflect and smile at what has been and what will be.
The 20’s are shaky. Stability is the goal but change is really the protagonist. So much occurred it’s difficult to remember it all. I had my heart hurt more times than I care to share via facebook message and text. Nothing like unrequited love to present itself through social media. I grew a part from my parents and ached to start out on my own. Necessary? Yes, but stopping to understand your childhood is over is often an afterthought too late. I should have savored the feeling of “home.” I watched my mother endure cancer while at the same time realizing even moms can’t be strong all the time. It’s ok to rest. I ended relationships where I had played married and therefore had to play divorce. Turns out guarding your heart really was a good idea. I began jobs and learned I liked order and distasted micro-managing. I was independent, who knew? I also learned that no one could be harder on me than me. Maybe I’ll relax in my next decade. I became an aunt to three beautiful little boys and discovered I loved them like they were my own. Each time one was born they found a little home in my heart. Being with them became one of my favorite pastimes. I formed friendships that actually defined true friendship. When someone drops everything to listen they really do care. Moving to a new apartment each year became a way of life which meant new roommates and experiences. I still can’t believe I allowed a roommate to keep her aquarium on the kitchen table with her gecko inside. No, I wasn’t ok with the black light that kept him warm and lit up our dining nook. I took a turn for the worse and sunk into a depression where you grab for anything until you just don’t care to care anymore. These moments defined me most because they allowed me to see what was broken and begin to heal. I think I found God too, as cliché as that sounds. I guess I had to believe I really lost him to know He was always there. I met a counselor that sent me running in the right direction. I began grad school and then I dropped out of grad school and wondered what that meant about me. Was I a quitter? I worked at American Eagle with high school students as a 24 year old because that’s the only place that would hire me. Folding tank tops with a college degree and covering a shift for a teen because she has a football game is a sobering enlightenment. I stopped attending my childhood church and became acquainted with the mega church. This brought about a lot of new realizations about grace and how it was ok to be a mess. And finally I met a guy, a really great guy that I didn’t like. And then I did, but by then he had a girlfriend. And then after shedding any pride that was left I told him I liked him and we fell in love. We planned a wedding and now I’m married. MARRIED! Craziness. Oh, I also went blind for two weeks. That was fun.
I guess my reflections aren’t really that different from others, but they’re mine. And I suppose it’s only in cheesy milestone birthday moments that you look back and know a lot has happened. It was a decade that shaped me and I’m glad it did. So with glasses raised here’s to 30.

Still

A few weeks ago I prayed for faith. I felt I was lacking it and needed a boost. If I had more faith I could overcome the down days, concentrate, laugh, and roll with the peaks as well as the valleys. It had to be that simple. More faith = strength.


My battle did indeed come. Jeff and I were returning from a weekend trip 2 weeks ago when I began to notice my vision blurring. Assuming I was just tired I went to bed and hoped for restful sleep. In the middle of the night I awoke and walked into our bathroom and flipped the switch. The mirror reflected nothing but a swirl of blurred colors. I rubbed my eyes and blinked rapidly but to no avail my eyesight remained blurry. Panic ensued. Later in the day I developed small water pockets on my eye balls. Awesome. What in the world was happening?

The next few days involved doctor visits, new prescriptions, and finally a diagnosis. I had developed a rare side effect from a new medication. The actual lenses of my eyes had changed due to increased eye pressure and water retention. Unbelievable! I couldn’t process it; how in the world had so much gone wrong in such a small amount of time??

My friends and family were hopeful that this was just a bad circumstance that would soon correct itself. I couldn’t get there though. I kept trying to chin up and believe that God had a plan but I wondered if God’s plan didn’t mean getting better. What if it meant something new? In the end my prayer was desperate and completely unsatisfying to me. It simply stated, “I’m so scared and I can’t believe good in this so help me actually have faith at all.”

Today my eyes are on the mend. The lenses have corrected themselves and I am patiently awaiting the dilation to dissipate. Pockets are gone too! It’s going to be ok. But I am only beginning to learn meaning in this. I read a devotional this morning that encouraged us to welcome God’s trials instead of praying for a quick cure. I thought about my desire to fight and how it felt so heavy to stand up to depression and fear. I thought I needed to do my part and that fighting back was the lesson to learn. Immediately the verse in Exodus came to my mind, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only be still.” (Ex. 14:14) My plan subsided for a moment and in the clearing was a new truth. I cannot fight this my way. My body couldn’t even fight off nearsightedness.

I am a weak girl, but God already knows that. The difference now is that I’m beginning to know that. God is always fighting for me and the realization that I can’t buck up and be strong is one of the warmest thoughts I’ve had in a long time. I cannot do this on my own. His desire is for stillness and I think my journey to understand that has only just begun.

Dear God,

(Heavy Sigh) Here I am, again.  I am so many things Lord. I say the wrong thing. I don't live my life above reproach. I should go the extra mile, but I don't.  I should get up and get to work on time. I should even work out and drink more water, but coke is so good. I push away when love calls me near. Why do I do that? I should give myself a break too, but can't do that either. I'm just a sinner. Just a girl having a hard time and trying to go it alone. When will my stubborn will fade away?

Its Thanksgiving next week, but I guess you know that. There really is so much to be thankful for, but my spirit lacks the joy. Doctors tell me to hang in there, this one will work. 6th treatment plan later I am glad my hopes have never banked on their good intentions. That's not true, sometimes I have. But you know that. I listened to Louie Giglio's message on anxiety and one thing tapped me on the shoulder and  has not stopped. He said it was BIG and to not forget that. He also said that it was an attack on your spirit. An actual detailed precise plan to wreck you. God, don't let it wreck me.

I don't have it all together. I may never, I think you're waiting for me to realize that, not you. Giving up is your greatest plan for me. It allows a clear path for your love to envelop my tired and anxious heart. I try so hard to fix me. And I keep thinking this is the day, this is the day I'll have success. But how wrong I've been. How so very wrong.

You are God. I am not. I give up.

Bleh...I feel fat.

If you’re girl and if you’re girl with anxiety then I’m pretty sure you don’t get to mark body image off your list of worries. And if you do I want to meet you and study your healthy logic. I am most definitely unhealthy in this department. I eat cobbler and feel guilt and then I feel guiltier because I’m the one that baked it! I choke back tears when I learn my BMI at my annual physical. I buy pants too big for me on purpose so that I don’t feel them digging into my stomach. I disregard compliments from my loved ones and convince myself that my body can be better. Sound familiar?

This is NOT a new topic. And yet the solutions we’re offered don’t seem to penetrate our stubborn minds. What do you tell yourself when you didn’t make the healthier choice and choose carrots as your snack? What if you chose cookies? What if you watched a movie and didn’t go to the gym? What if both of those examples happened on the same day? You’re not always going to hang out at LA Fitness and crave raw veggies because working out sucks and carrots are only good with ranch.. So…how to stay healthy mentally with regards to body image is not an easy task.

If it was really about healthier meals and cardio don’t you think we could just jump back on the wagon the next day and not beat ourselves up mentally? Nope. It’s alllllllllll mental. Just like anxiety. The things you feel after a bad eating choice and what you tell yourself are far worse than extra calories. The expectations we put on our bodies when comparing ourselves to others is outrageous. It isn’t fair. But neither is anxiety.

And on this side of heaven I’m not sure I’ll wake up and suddenly love my body. But what I can do is fight. Fight like I do with anxiety. Tell myself, “ok, you ate a lot of Biscoff cookies, let’s not buy those anymore.” And then move on, put the scale away, watch a movie, and go for a walk. Maybe even journal what you liked about today and how tomorrow is new. Try a gym routine that is conducive to your schedule, 3x a week instead of seven is actually ok. I know it sounds after school special-ly, but it’s a start.

Rabbit Foot

Well I did it. And by did it I mean I: - Got. Married. -Went to Mexico -Survived Customs & Security -Flew over WATER the whooooole time -Experienced another culture (Cancun totally counts guys) -Learned to sleep with a boy in my bed Its been a big 10 days thus far. Lots of things for me to easily fear and ball up with angst. I'm not sure why I didn't see it coming, why I didn't know that anxiety, unfortunately, is still the parasite within me that threats to spread and grow. Anxiety doesn't care for change and it really doesn't like multiple changes all at once. Its Anxiety 101 and yet I didn't see it. I had 3 days of bliss and then it shoved me hard and ran away laughing like the bully. I turned to silent praying and requesting tiny miracles to get me through the day. And it occurred to me that I was treating Christ like a rabbit foot. A soft piece of fur radiating luck when rubbed. "God, help get through customs ok." "God, calm my heart and give me peace." "God, let Jeff understand that I'm not crazy, just a little anxiety-ridden over marriage." "God, its me again, can you do this too...?" I think a lot of anxious people reach for their rabbit foot when feeling out of control. It makes for a sturdier existence, even for just a minute. But then I am reminded by Jeff that you have to ask yourself, is God still good even if my heart doesn't become calm or the Mexican Border Patrol believe me to be a person of interest at random? Is he still good Kate? Yes, I say while stroking the foot. Yes, he is still good as long as he does what I say and things are smooth. I am still just a baby Christian, even after 23 years of believing. I still see favor with God as a result of good behavior. I'm still gonna reach for a disgusting hot pink foot with counterfeit fur and a key chain. In this case God was incredibly faithful to us and protected us during our first trip. But I think I learned a little something about my rabbit foot mentality. I have to step beyond the vending machine when my day hasn't become calm. When my heart is pumping like a Red Bull drink on an empty stomach for 12 hours. And when one bad day turns into a several bad days. I have anxiety. Its ugly. But God is still good.