Acceptance

I asked to have grab bars installed in my bathroom today.

I should have done it right after we first moved in two years ago...but I am a prideful person and didn't want to admit that I need them.
Maybe when I fell out of the shower last summer and bashed my back against the toilet, that might have been a good sign it was time to ask.
Or the fact that when I close my eyes, I have pretty much no sense of balance and need to hold on to something or else I start tipping over. Well, even with my eyes open, it's not much better. Sometimes my balance just suddenly dissipates , and I need to grab hold of something solidly anchored to prevent a face-plant.

Either way, I finally swallowed my pride and stopped by the apartment complex office today, fighting anxiety that I would have to fight to get what I need or provide a lengthy justification. But it was surprisingly.... easy. The office manager didn't even bat an eye, just put in an order for the maintenance guy to install the grab bars. Her response was really kind: "Oh, we've put in plenty of those. We probably have some on hand already, so it shouldn't take too long to get them installed."
I don't know what I was expecting really (the front office here is always so helpful and quick to take care of problems), but all the anxiety rushed out of me like a deflating balloon, and I immediately felt so much lighter.
I guess there's a part of me that always expects people to not be helpful or understanding, that their response will be something along the lines of, "Why? You don't look sick." I expect to be shot down rather than supported.

Maybe some of that comes from living in denial for so long about my health. I mean, I know I'm sick and have physical disabilities, but for the last 12 years there's always been a part of my brain that just hasn't accepted it. That side of me held to the belief that the next test or specialist or clinic would reveal my illness was an easily fixable problem, and I would be healthy and whole again. Not held back by weakness and fatigue, or having to plan my days based on how tired I am, or scrapping plans midday because my energy just took a nosedive. There was that voice in my head that said I didn't have to deal with any of this, because eventually it would just go away and I could go back to being healthy and normal.

And I think it's finally hit me and truly sunk in that I am sick and it isn't ever going to go away. I have an undiagnosed form of neuropathy, and I've been waiting for that magical diagnosis for more than a decade to fix everything...but I have to deal with this in the here and now; I can't keep waiting for "someday when I know what's wrong with me" to take charge of my health. Because there isn't some fairy godmother/doctor who is going to appear, wave their magic wand and make it all better. If I'm going to take better care of myself this year and be a stronger advocate for what I need, I have to be realistic about my health and what I can and cannot do.

I think the last 12 years have been me slowly making my way through the five stages of grief. I've cycled through the first four--denial, anger, bargaining, depression--for years, but haven't ever truly gotten towards acceptance up until now. Just because I've been able to talk about my health more openly in recent years doesn't mean I had truly come to terms with it. I can have a normal conversation about what my illness entails and not fall apart sobbing on someone, but that doesn't mean I'm anywhere close to okay with it.

I can't advocate for myself effectively if I'm not honest about what my needs are. I need to admit my weaknesses and disabilities, because how can I improve my daily life otherwise? I use leg braces to support my legs and feet, which keeps my hips and back better aligned than if I was limping around. I have handicap parking to save energy, especially in the winter when it's cold and icy and it's easy for me to slip in slushy parking lots. I get massage therapy and chiropractic care every three weeks to help maintain my muscle strength and keep my back in good shape. I take my vitamins every day, especially Vitamin D in the winter, because it helps my body function well. I'm trying to eat healthier: this month I added green smoothies to my diet, because it improves my energy levels and gives my body good fuel to run on. I pay attention to my energy levels so I don't over exert myself and get sick. And today I asked to have grab bars installed in my bathroom.

Because I can't keep living in denial. 

Starting a new business

I finally stopped talking, and took the plunge today, setting up an Etsy shop. I've been batting the idea around for a few years now, never getting to the point where I actually made the effort to put my words into action. It was always something I'd do "someday," or "when I have the time," or whatever. I had plenty of excuses for why NOW was never a good time. It'd come up in conversation, and I'd list out my ideas and plans, brainstorming as I went....but it never led to anything concrete.

I'm really good at making work but not much selling it. I've probably got over 50 paintings and collages sitting in my parents' basement right now (and another dozen or two stalled works-in-progress). I had a full time retail job for four and a half years that sucked away too much of my energy and focus. By the time I'd get home from work, I'd be too tired to do more than poke around in my studio for a bit. I only had time to work in bits and pieces. I was actually pretty productive, but just didn't have the mental energy to focus on setting up my art as a business.

And then last year, I totally fell off the art making wagon. I barely made anything of consequence in 2012. I wasn't feeling very motivated artistically, and it didn't help that my job was taxing my energy levels more and more. You only have so much to go around when you live with chronic health issues. Then, I started dating Colin, which was absolutely life changing...but I had a decision to make. I had to decide where I was going to focus my energy. Art? Or my relationship? I wasn't going to commit to both and then half-ass it. I knew I had to really commit to one and let the other slide (for a time). I chose Colin. Which turned out well:

photo by Steve Coleman

So, we got married in February, and I quit my job right before our wedding. I didn't have a plan for what I would do next, but I knew I couldn't keep working in retail. I didn't have another job lined up, but after talking with Colin at length about it, we decided that would be the best course of action. My knees, legs and feet were hurting all the time. On my days off, I always had to ration my energy and turn down doing anything that was too draining.
When I quit, I suddenly felt amazing. I felt so energetic and alive--it was quite a dramatic change!

After settling into married life, getting our new apartment in order and just adjusting to a new life, I started job hunting. I've been applying to jobs since February, landing a few interviews here and there, but no solid leads. The market is still competitive, especially for the entry level office positions I've been applying for.

In my free time, I've been getting back into making art more regularly again. But living in a one bedroom apartment, I have less art creating space and need to be more intentional about my projects. I've already finished one street art project in the last couple months. It was a simple, small series and didn't take long to make and distribute. I wanted to settle into my next big, long term project, but didn't want to clutter up my apartment with artwork collecting dust. And I was ready to transition away from the assemblages I'd been making since college. I had started feeling like I was just repeating myself; my work didn't feel like it was evolving or going in any new directions. Being without a job and a lot of free time on my hands, I'd been feeling a bit directionless over the last couple months.

And then my older brother sent me over 50 small boards (about 4inx6in) as a wedding present (art materials are always a great gift!). A small germ of an idea started growing, and I realized now would be the perfect time to finally create that Etsy shop. Here was a chance to challenge myself to work in a more simple and pared down style so that I could make paintings with a more affordable price point.

So I've spent the majority of the day setting up my shop and listing items. I feel really confident in what I've done so far. It's time for me to stop saying, "someday" and starting putting my ideas into action.

You can check out my Etsy shop to browse through more pictures of what I have for sale: http://www.etsy.com/shop/AbstractAmbience

Grateful

Life can change so quickly for the better.
I was sitting here and it just hit me how blessed I am right now. Awed gratitude is the only response that I can give to God. Flowery praise and poignant prose really can't do it justice. I am blown away at God's goodness and grace. For some reason it's really hitting me tonight.

Within the last week or two, I have realized that God was preparing me 10 years ago to be the person I am today. Specific prayers I said as a 15 year old are now coming to fruition in my life. I could never have imagined what the answers to those prayers would look like, how God would bless me so greatly.

In 2002, I was just beginning the process of facing the tough stuff from my past. I was painfully shy, awkward and withdrawn. I felt removed from my peers, so different and alone. I struggled with so much fear and doubt and shame and self-degradation. I wondered if I would ever be able to truly be myself, the person I knew I was deep down. I didn't know yet that I had muscular dystrophy--I just thought I was klutzy. I couldn't foresee the tumultuous long-distance dating relationship I'd have during college. I didn't even have my driver's license yet! I'd barely begun to delve into being an artist. The thought of coherently and logically writing my thoughts and emotions like this would have been impossible. I was a teenager, full of zeal and little life experience.

Now it's 2012. I thought I'd have my life all figured out by the time I was 22, let alone 25. I've come so far though--I'm a completely different person from the Elisabeth that asked God for peace and freedom that fateful July night. I consider July 11th my spiritual birthday, because that's the night I reached the end of my rope and cried desperately out to God. And He answered. And my life was completely changed. Now, so much to be grateful for, even the so-called "little things." Even though I now wear leg braces and struggle some days with being so tired, I understand that God has used it to make me stronger. I can now talk about the "dark stuff," because I see how God has worked through it for good. I have an amazing boyfriend who loves Jesus and accepts me--all of me--and encourages me to seek after the Lord. I have friends who "get" me. I don't feel adrift anymore; I've found my place. And even though I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, I know God is in charge. And seeing some of His plan unfold has been pretty cool.

A complete 180

My natural inclination is towards being an island, never being weak or putting myself in a place to depend or rely on someone to come through for me. So many fears and doubts swirled in me for many years--about relying on people, opening up my heart and risking being hurt, letting others matter and speak into my life...it just seemed so dangerous after having gotten my heart beat up and toyed with over the years. I was angry and dissatisfied and bitter, not just about romantic relationships, but any kind of friendship. I always kept some part of myself in reserve, holding myself at arm's length...just in case. I just expected others to fail, to leave, to not reach out. The other shoe was always just waiting to drop, and I was never surprised when it did, and a friendship would just fizzle out after a couple years. I wasn't pessimistic, I said, just realistic. If you have no expectations, you're not surprised when people fail you. That's why I always held something back--it hurts too much if you let your heart be vulnerable. That's such a risk to let yourself be open to getting hurt like that. I know what it's like to have a shattered heart, sweeping the broken pieces up and trying to put yourself back together. I didn't ever want to feel that way again.

So, I was always a bit aloof, a little removed from those around me, never trying too hard to hang onto any friendship. The only person I thought I could really rely on was myself. I settled into my daily life over the last couple years, a routine of work and making art and reading books and going to church--quite happy and content on my lonesome. I was burned pretty badly from my last relationship and had no desire to seek out dating at all. To me, it just felt like a pointless game. I was content with my friends and family. In 2011 though, God impressed on me that I really needed to make relationships a priority in my life, make an effort to reach out and cultivate friendships, both old and new. I was tired of never truly being myself, never opening all the way. I was done with living in fear of what might happen. I was never fully in the present, in the here and now, because I was still letting the past breath over my shoulder and determine my actions for the future. I had to let go of what has happened, not obsess over what might be, and just dwell in what is. It's so freeing to commit to the present and let go of old fears, trusting God to lead me true.

For 2012, I have the theme, "Be bold," ringing through my heart and mind. God doesn't want me to stay where it's comfortable; He wants me to step out into the unknown and risk a little bit. How can I really have faith if I never rely on God to come through for me, if I always have a back-up plan to rescue myself? I have to let go, step off the cliff, and trust that if God is who He says He is, He's not going to let me crash on the rocks below. I wrote about some of this process recently, and how my heart has healed and opened up again. This past month or so has just blown my socks off. The pessimistic side of me keeps waiting for something bad to happen...but it hasn't.

This has become a season of joy and excitement in my life. New experiences, fresh insight and inspiration, much encouragement and happiness, falling hopelessly in love, getting all mushy and sappy....I have never felt so cherished, treasured and respected in my life. My boyfriend, Colin, just fills me with such joy. He is super sweet and kind and loving, encouraging me in my faith and walk with God, accepting me as I am with all my kookiness and strangeness. He makes me want to be a better person--not because I feel like I need to be perfect, present some kind of facade...but because I am loved and free to open my heart. And he doesn't think he's doing anything special!

I know he's not perfect, and he isn't trying to be. We're both very open about being sinful people in a fallen world. We both know that without Jesus, we're hopeless and lost. But I do know that God has been directing my steps over the last several years, preparing my heart. Everything I've been through--the good and especially the bad--has been leading me here. I'm willing to step out of my comfort zone, shake up my daily routine....risk my heart and be open to love.

It might sound sappy or whatever, but life without real love is pretty lonely. I don't want to be an island.

But I did it my way

Every time someone tells me I can't do something or I have to do such-and-such in a particular way to be successful, I just want to prove them wrong. There's a part of me that exclaims, "Well, why?! Why do I have to do it that way? I'm going to do it how I want-and work harder at it-just to prove you wrong!" That side of me gets such a thrill out of doing things differently and making it work out anyways.

I'm quietly contrary, I guess. I don't argue to someone's face, I just go off and work at proving them wrong. Talk is easy and cheap. Actions back up and confirm my point. For example, I felt pressured by my advisor to apply to graduate school right away after completing my under-grad degree at Northwestern. I was burned out on school, and especially so after my last semester when I was working 40 hours a week and going to college. I got the impression that he thought that if I didn't go on right away for further education, I wouldn't amount to anything. I just wasn't interested in that path. I was like, "Why can't I simply keep making art on my own? I don't need a master's to be an artist. I'm just going to get my work out there!" And that's what I did: I applied to a bunch of calls for art, created business cards, made a point to carry CDs with my artwork and resume on them in my purse at all times. Within a year of graduating, I had work in 8 different art shows. Would I have been as motivated if someone hadn't told me that I was supposed to go about being an artist a different way? I don't know, but it definitely put a little extra fire in me to try harder and push myself further.

It's the same with my faith sometimes. I've always chafed under people telling me what I'm "supposed" to believe and do, how I'm "supposed" to be a Christian, a godly woman. There are so many voices out there who think they know exactly how everyone else is supposed to act--they've got the rules laid out, in detail, in their numerous books on how to live a better life/be a better Christian/be a 'real' woman/blah blah blah. It boils down to "This is what you're supposed to do. And if you don't, you're not really a Christian." That's legalism, not the freedom the Bible talks about. It's made me question things more, ask myself why I'm doing a particular thing--is it because I feel genuinely convicted to do it...or is it because I'm checking off a religious to-do list, trying to please others and not focusing on glorifying God? It's one thing for people I respect and love to speak into my life and point out error--I need that! It's another thing when you get blanket statements about how everyone is "supposed" to be.

For a time, I questioned and stepped back from all the "basics"--reading the Bible, praying, going to church. I knew I should do these things, but why? I knew it's what Christians are "supposed" to do...but that's not much of a motivation at the end of the day. I felt very aimless for a couple years, because I had to come to a conclusion for myself, not based on what everyone else says, but decide for me who I was going to be and how I would live out this thing called faith.
Eventually, I did make up my mind about all of it. I read my Bible pretty much daily, I pray a lot, I go to church every Sunday I don't have to work. But it's not because I'm "supposed" to, it's because I genuinely desire to.

I'm just pig headed that way, I suppose. Part of being such an independent person is that I question everything (sometimes to my detriment). I don't take things at face value--I don't want to know simply the "what" but the "why" as well. I have reasons behind everything I do. Empty actions are just so pointless to me. I guess it's that I want my whole life to have meaning and thoughtful purpose behind it. And simply jumping because someone says I should rubs me the wrong way.

Back to the future

A little over four years ago, the future I'd been planning was completely destroyed. All my plans and intentions went up in smoke. For a good two years, I'd been going along with a particular idea of how things were going to unroll in my life....and then it all came crashing down.

And I'm so glad it did. Though at the time, it really sucked going through it.

March 2008: I broke up with my cheating ex, cut off all my hair, and went on a spring break road trip to New Mexico and Utah. It was the perfect way to process a break up--just miles of open road and the time to reflect and decompress. I had almost two weeks of quiet and peace, time to think and let go, finding some solace and healing out in the grandeur of the West. You really can't help but feel a sense of calm wash over you when you're sitting on the edge of a cliff, with nothing but the sound of wind in your ears, and no sign of civilization for miles and miles.

I felt as if I had lost sight of God, and he'd stripped away everything that I'd been leaning on or distracting myself with to get me to look at Him again. I couldn't use homework or checking Facebook or talking on the phone or doing busywork...nothing....there were no distractions. I came face-to-face with who I really was out there. There was nothing I could do--I had to just be. It was just me, and the wind, and harsh beauty of the land...and God. Speaking to me in a still small voice that I'd been tuning out for a while.

One of my friends joked later that I had gone on a vision quest, and I couldn't really disagree. I had a couple unusual encounters along the way that reminded me that God was still there for me (maybe I'll share them someday). I went on a few hikes by myself, and the utter quiet I experienced out in that wilderness didn't leave when I came back to Minnesota. That sense of peace, so lonely yet comforting, so weighty yet freeing, settled in my heart and has never left. It's impossible to adequately convey the way I felt the presence of God out in the desert, but I was changed in a very deep way that I can't really describe.  It was just what I needed at the time. It was as if God was telling me, "Everything will be okay, Elisabeth. Your problems aren't as big as you think. Let Me comfort and heal your bruised heart."

"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her." Hosea 2:14

But then I had to come back home again. Back to school, back to my friends and family, back to every day life. But I didn't know who I was anymore. So much of myself, who I was, had gotten wrapped up in this one person, this one relationship, this one idea of how my life was going to go. I had to redefine myself. I realized that I'd been basing my identity and worth as a person on another human being. I mean, it wasn't like I had no sense of self, but I hadn't realized until that trip how much I'd changed who I was just to please my ex. That was a very healthy and needed thing to go through...but then I was faced with the fact that I had no clue what I was supposed to do with my life next.

Everything that I'd been thinking and planning for about two years had been pointed towards getting married and moving to Maryland and having this whole life out east. That all disappeared, and I had to find my footing again. It was like all these ties had been cut, and I was suddenly free....with no direction or leading.

And as healing and comforting as my road trip had been, there were still areas that really hurt. I shut down some parts of my heart, because I just felt like a fool and an idiot. I should have known better! I was like, "Guys--who needs 'em? Pffft."

And I went on with finishing up that school year, having fun with my friends, working on art, renewing my relationship with God. Over the next couple years, I moved back home, revitalized my connections with my family, got a job at Half Price, graduated college, bought a car, worked on building some artistic notoriety, just living life. But I didn't really think too hard about what might come next, I just took life as it came. "Why make long term plans when it might blow up in your face?" a part of me asked. And no way was I interested in dating. It still stung if I thought about it too much. I just decided I would happily be single the rest of my life and that was that.

But I didn't want to stay in a holding pattern, settling into a rut. Not only in daily living and work, I also realized I needed to make my faith a priority and not half-ass it. I begrudgingly decided to look for a church, but I wasn't going to like it. I knew God wanted me to get plugged in somewhere, but I wasn't too enthused about the prospect. I'd listened to Mark Driscoll sermons off and on throughout college, but I really started listening to them, actually trying to apply what I was hearing and learning. And one thing he really emphasizes is being in community with other Christians. Like, all the time, in practically every message I heard. I finally was like, "Fine. Fine! Okay, I will look for a church. But I'm not too excited about this, God. And if I don't like it, I'm not going back." I looked online to see if there were any Acts 29 churches in Minneapolis, kinda hoping there wasn't so I could make more excuses. There are four. And they are all close-ish to where I live. There was even one like ten minutes away. Crap. I wasn't going to get out of this so easy.

So I went to Antioch Community Church....and loved it. The people were (and are) awesome. I got connected with a community group. I've made friends, not just interacted with people who only talk to me on Sunday. I feel like I've found my place. And God's really been working on my heart the last six months or so, reminding me not to hold back in fear, to be open to new possibilities, to look to Him for guidance and not going back to my old way of living and thinking. He doesn't want me to keep my heart shut, because I'm scared of what might happen. I can't, and don't want to, live life that way.

I've been thinking recently of how God spoke to my heart in the desert when I was bruised and hurting. He gave me peace and reassurance when I had none and felt so empty. I had nothing to give, but God met me where I was at and didn't let me wallow and have a pity party. He reminded me that everything else can fall away, but He will always be there. I can be completely alone, yet He will never leave  me. I am His and will never be forsaken, though I may stumble through darkness and doubt. I have nothing to offer, yet He is happy to give everything and fill me with hope and grace and love.

And I've reflected on how God's been speaking to me over the last four years as I've matured and realigned myself with Him. He's been teaching me to tune my heart to his voice, however He chooses to speak with me--from a penny on the ground to a book coming along just when I need to read what it says to a sunny day spent with friends to the messages I hear at church. I don't get to choose how God works, I just have to be open and expectant for Him to come through for me.

And now....something new and completely unexpected has come my way. I wasn't looking or searching for it. I wasn't praying about it. I was just going about my life, and now this. There's this guy...and he's pretty awesome. And he thinks I'm kinda awesome too. It's like finding a little seedling popping up from the ground in spring where you didn't know anything was even planted. The future is all up in the air again. I have no idea what the future holds. And I have never been happier about uncertainty in my life.

I am so excited to see what's going to happen next....

Rid of my disgrace

Oh, man, talk about spiritual attack Tuesday. I was originally planning to write something chipper and upbeat ....but I have been feeling pretty weighted down today. Emotions, thoughts and feelings that haven't surfaced in a long while have all reared their heads. It's a bit overwhelming to be honest. Every time I think I'm done with stuff from my past, that I've overcome it all and will never have to think about it again....I get my knees kicked out from under me, and I'm flat on my back...again. And it's easier to stay down than fight my way back up for the umpteenth time, because there's just so much to face and it takes so much work.

In the past when something like today would happen, I'd feel completely off kilter for days. Just not being able to shake it off, feeling like I was drowning under all the old accusations and helplessness. I would get in a funk, because I'd listen to those things instead of pushing back. At the time, I didn't know how to fight back and win. It just felt like it was futile, because I believed what was running through my head was true.

"You're worthless. Disgusting. Nothing will ever change. You're unloved, unwanted, something to be used and discarded....If you were really a Christian, you wouldn't feel this way, struggle this much....You're dirty, defiled, garbage....This is all your fault....No one else could possibly understand, and if you told anyone, they would be disgusted by you. Who would want to be your friend, if they truly knew you? You can't trust anyone. You will always be alone."

And on it would go. I'd just want to curl up under the covers and hope that it would all go away. It was all so heavy and dark.....and it felt like I was choking on fear and shame. I thought all of that was flowing out of my own heart.

Now the thing you should notice, what I wrote above are all you statements. I never caught on to this. Who ever really addresses themselves in the second person? I would go from, "I feel sad and ashamed," to, "You're shameful and pathetic." The first is an appropriate response to sexual abuse, but the second is not. It goes from "I was sinned against," to, "It's all your fault." You want help and healing, but think you don't deserve it because you begin to believe you brought it on yourself somehow. These malicious thoughts come into your mind and you just accept them, never even considering that they're not from you.

So, today--well, actually starting last night when I went to bed, I was feeling the weight of some past regrets. Things I shouldn't have done, words I should have said instead, and compromises I made to my standards and convictions. I was thanking God for forgiving and redeeming my sin, wiping away my tears, creating a new heart and a new mind in me. But all of sudden, I was just slammed with these accusatory phrases. And I started wallowing, getting pulled completely off track. I went from, "That is who I once was--I'm truly repentant over the things I did wrong, God, and thank you for forgiving me and not choosing to hold my sin against me. I regret this and am feeling the weight of the wrong, but I know you love me," to, "You're a horrible person and always will be. You are undeserving of love. You haven't changed and never will." And shame started wrapping itself around me.

But. I'm not the same person I was ten years ago. And I realized that this wasn't coming from me. So, I did something that I didn't know how to do before when I was younger: I fought back the right way. "God, this isn't me and it's not how you see me. You have freed me from shame, from disgrace, from guilt. Yes, that's how I once felt, but that's not truth. This isn't true. You know who I truly am. Remind me of my identity in you and your love and grace. I am not alone--you are with me, and I have people I can turn to. I am loved. I will not give into shame and hide away. I am renewed, redeemed, beloved by you, God. I'm facing this and I know it's not me." (This video says it even better.)

And after a few minutes of praying, it was like a switch got flipped and those thoughts were gone from my head. Wow. It worked. And I slept through the night without a single bad dream (I've been having those lately).

This morning, those feelings came rushing back again, which isn't surprising. I've been confronting and praying against them through the day. I was looking at my tattoo earlier to remind myself that God is always there for me, even when the darkness comes. God's been reminding me today that my emotions don't define my faith and life. No matter what I'm currently feeling or remembering, God is good and He will never leave me bereft and broken. I'm not the same person I once was, because of His grace and mercy and love. I'm not bound to old ways of thinking and feeling.

This is me now. I don't care that it's kind of a crappy sketch, it illustrates perfectly who I am in Jesus.

Envisioning the future

I'm in the middle of a week off from work right now and have been taking the time to think about what's next for me. I thought it'd be good to devote some time to sit down, look at what I've been doing the last couple years and where I want to be headed in the next 12 months.

I enjoy creating art and trying out new ideas in my paintings, but it's incredibly difficult to pay the bills from that. And I have zero interest in being a graphic designer (which apparently, according to some people, is the only "real job" you can get if you're interested in art). I really love teaching, but it hasn't been a consistent gig for me. And I'd start to feel claustrophobic after awhile, being in a classroom every day. I like a little more variety. Thoughts like this have been running through my head with more frequency, and I was just feeling frustrated trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. 

It's easy in the midst of day-to-day life and work to just go from task to task and lose sight of my passions. I need to remind myself to keep my goals big and not condense my plans to a little bubble. I hadn't realized how small and unfocused my world had gotten lately until I started reading through this book a few days ago:

And I got some For Dummies titles too

It's been really eye opening so far, just writing down my values and what I like and don't like doing. I'm one of those people who enjoys making lists and filling my head with all kinds of informational tidbits. What I'm not so good at is actually doing something with all of that material. There's not much point to learning something new and insightful if it doesn't change anything about your life. I can't just keep writing down and talking about what I hope to do or want to pursue. I've actually got to put my plans into action. There is so much wasted potential in this world, and I don't want to be one of those people who could have done something great but was too lazy or scared to try.

But the hard part has been visualizing what I want to do with my passions and interests. It's all well and good to say, "I want to do something I enjoy," but without a goal to pursue, there's no direction or drive behind it. I also like having money, so I want a job that I can actually support myself with. But there's so many different avenues I could go down and particular passions I could pursue. However, I don't want to isolate just one facet of myself; I'd really like to involve all my strengths and interests.

So the exercise I did this morning was especially insightful. In Chapter 5, you're asked to write out your day five years from now. And it starts with simple things, seemingly mundane moments: What time do you wake up? What's your bedroom look like? What do you see when you look out the window? What do you hear?
At first, you think, "What does this have to do with a job, finding the career I want to pursue?" But as you go through the questions, you realize that you can't just compartmentalize your life into separate segments--"Work" over here, "Home" over there, one not affecting the other.

I ended up typing a whole page and haven't even answered every question so far. And as I was mulling over the answers, I was really struck with how small and safe I've been living my life lately.

I say I believe in a big God, and yet how does my life reflect that? I say I want my life to be like Jesus'....but do I really?  I settle for surfing the Internet and browsing Facebook, filling hours with nothing of importance, making excuses: "I'm too tired...I'll get to that tomorrow....Next week will be better to finish that...I'm not in the mood right now...Oh, that's so much work, I don't know if I can do that..." and blah blah blah.

Do I really, truly believe that God is Who He says He is? If I'm honest with myself, I know what Jesus said his followers' lives should look like...but I'm not living it. Life is not easy, I know that, but am I pushing through the obstacles or just using those roadblocks as an excuse to not try?

Jesus said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." It's tempting to only look at the second sentence, and get indignant that life isn't going my way. But the first part of that verse reminds us that living a full life requires effort and work, that there will be many obstacles to overcome to pursue what we love. Not that there might be hardships, there will be; it's a fact.

My dreams--the ideas that I've only shared with a few because they seem so audacious, so amazing, so big--will only ever be just that if I don't step out in faith, being bold, remembering that God has called me to something bigger than what I'm currently living. It's scary though. I like being comfortable. I like ease, I don't like having to lean on anyone else, trusting they will come through for me. I like to be my own savior. But if I keep on that path, nothing will ever happen. And that's not the life I want.

Reaction to The Porn Path

I just finished watching this message, The Porn Path preached by Mark Driscoll, and it was heart wrenching. And I don't just mean, "Oh, that sucks, I feel sad about that." It feels like my heart is clenched in my chest right now. I can't really even adequately describe what my emotions are at the moment.

I usually make it a point not to blog when I'm feeling an extreme emotion, because things get said in the heat of the moment that are regretted later. But in this case, I want to write while I'm still feeling the weight and impact of what Pastor Mark spoke on and the former porn star he interviewed said. I don't really want to be logical and removed about this. I'm not writing in hot-headed anger or woe-is-me despair or I-want-attention-look-at-me low self esteem......it's just this heavy brokenness over what I've just heard.

I cried multiple times, and not just over the broken lives spoken of in the sermon, but for myself, how my life has been affected, in ways both overt and subtle. From a broken relationship to the way I feel walking alone on the street.

And also for those I know who are afflicted by the plague of pornography: My ex who felt bad and oh-so-sorry every time, but who eventually cheated on me, refusing to see how little sins lead to bigger ones, more concerned over having a good reputation than being honest and seeking help. (I can only hope he's changed since I broke up with him....)
The guy who molested me--I can only imagine what led him to do that. Perhaps he was abused himself. Maybe he was just acting out what he'd seen somewhere. Either way, his view of sexuality and how to treat females got messed up somewhere along the line.

I mourn for the innumerable men who are currently in Bible college, destroying future ministries, disqualifying themselves, paving the path to the ruin of their marriages, setting themselves up for limited or no eternal impact, stunted spiritual lives....because they've gotten sucked in to the black hole of pornography. Their relationships with their wives and children being eaten away with every page view.

My heart is broken for the women and children whose lives are being shattered. Not only the wives and girlfriends who feel second rate to a 2-D Photoshopped image, feeling like they can never measure up, but for the porn stars as well. Those women are being destroyed too. Thinking that they'll find acceptance or love...and only getting shame and emptiness out of the bargain. They're just as much a victim.

It's not right. I don't care what you think, it's. just. not. right.

I don't want to share my future husband with a computer screen.
I don't want to feel unsafe in my own neighborhood, because men view women as something to be used and not cherished.
I don't want my sisters' future relationships to end the way mine did.
I don't want any more broken marriages, because porn is more titillating than your spouse.
I don't want more women destroyed, because they're only wanted for their bodies and not their hearts.
I don't want children's innocence ripped away from rape and abuse, predominantly by adults they know and trust to protect them.

How many more hearts need to be ripped to shreds before we get it?

And the answer isn't found in just changing our outward behavior, adjusting what we do. The only way that healing and true change is going to come is to realize that we need to go to our hearts. We can modify the behavior all we want, but the addiction will still be there. The emptiness still won't be filled. The longings for true intimacy won't be met. And we will still be trapped in sin.

The cliche' way to end this would be to say, "What we need is Jesus! And it'll all be better!" The world does need his love and grace. But we also need his destroying our sin, removing the person we once were and transforming us into his likeness. And that's not easy. People get discouraged because they think once they repent, everything's going to be cupcakes and roses. It's work. It takes dedication and perseverance to keep going. We don't break habits in a day. And addictions don't generally magically go away.

Just.....watch the message. Be broken. And be changed.

To love is to risk

"Jesus followers join churches because they want to be like Jesus and will risk loving others deeply. Don't even deny the pain of this risk and naively think that truly living in community as the church with sinners is easy. Church squabbles do injure innocent people. Church leaders do disappoint when they don't live up to their calling. Other believers do betray trust and cause disillusionment. Every Christian both suffers these pains and causes others to suffer harm. To love is to risk and grow through pain, and those who want to love well choose to suffer pain rather than self-protect by abandoning church." ~Mark Driscoll, Doctrine, pg. 340

This is true, but it's not easy to live out. I have been betrayed deeply, to the core of who I am, by people I looked up to and thought were friends.
As a tween, my heart was shattered by a childhood friend--I know from experience what it's like to go through what the Bible calls the dark night of the soul. To weep yourself to sleep is a nice poetic phrase, the reality is something I don't ever wish to repeat. People use "It broke/breaks my heart," so flippantly. You feel like you're dying when it truly happens, like you're being torn in half. To love someone so deeply and innocently as a child....and when it's so callously thrown in your face, and you realize you are esteemed so little by them....it's very hard to overcome. As a kid, you haven't gained the coping skills and maturity yet to process that. An adult is hurt and wounded but knows how to move on, a child is destroyed.

I've mentioned before about being abused as well by a neighborhood boy who was several years older than me. "Love" is twisted into something weird, but you don't realize it at the time. As a child, you just believe that someone older than you knows better and that what they're doing is okay. You look up to this person, you love them and do what they say. Later, you figure out that it's not okay, but you feel scared and worry that you'll get in trouble if you say anything. Maybe you try to tell someone, but it doesn't come out right, you chicken out, it's too weird or uncomfortable to talk about...so you just let it drop. Or maybe like me, you blocked out the memories and they didn't come back until years later. Then all of sudden you're thrown into a tail spin.....what is this? Am I going crazy? What...what are these memories? What do I do with this? I don't have the words to talk about this.......I'm just going to pretend I didn't remember.

But you can't. You've become a different person and how you interact with others has been forever altered. You become harder, detached, independent (who needs people, I'm fine on my own), never getting too close, just waiting for the day when they fail you, always holding back part of yourself so you never have to feel that pain again. You are strong, capable, you protect others but don't let anyone protect you. God helps those who help themselves, right?

And how you see God? Well, He's God, so He's loving....but maybe He's not as powerful as the Bible says. Because why would He let your heart get destroyed like that? Why do you feel so alone in this pain, haunted by these past wrongs and unable to move beyond them? Where's the healing, Lord? Why on earth should I trust your people to help?! We barely talk about healthy sexuality in the church....no, it's better to keep it to myself.

And so it goes. Too afraid to open up, the fear of discovery of your shame, fear of being let down, scared of what people might think or say, scared of being broken again (you'd never pull the pieces back together again), afraid, fearful, terrified.......Fear rules and reigns in your life. It chokes you, determining every interaction you have with another person, chases you at night and hinders your sleep.....and it just never lets up. You just want it to stop. You try your hardest to move beyond it, stuffing it down, pretending you don't feel it......but the fear comes back. You tell yourself you're being silly, irrational, a stupid teenager--it's just hormones, but you feel the same anyway.

Finally, one night, you're at the end of your rope and cry out from the depths of your soul. You've prayed before, but tonight something is different. You feel some peace and sleep heavily, looking forward to this youth group conference you're going on tomorrow. It's the start of something new, though you don't know that yet. God shows up, you feel His presence in such a way that you are forever changed. You cry and admit that the wounds of the past still hurt so much. It's the beginning of a journey towards healing and renewal. You are alive again!

And now, here I am almost a decade later. God's brought me on a crazy journey since 2002. It's not all sunshine and sparkles, but it's better. I have come far and overcome much, and the road still stretches on in front of me.

Why do I tell all this in a post about loving others and risking my heart to be in real relationships with other Christians? To show that it's not just words, naive churchy speak. To say, "God doesn't want me to be alone," is easy. I truly believe it....even though I still struggle with taking down the walls around my heart. Even though I have been wounded and betrayed and hurt....I still need His people. I need love, I need to be connected with others, I can't live live alone. I don't just need Jesus in my life--I need His followers too. His messed up, hypocritical, gossipy, sinful failures who can be pretty mean sometimes...because that's me too. I need forgiveness for my failings just as much as I need to extend forgiveness to those who have wronged me.

I hang onto the fact that God is love, and there is nothing evil about Him. He says He is all powerful, and I do doubt sometimes, but I believe Him. He's just and good, and says all evil will be accounted for and judged. He says He holds me in the palm of His hand, so I'm protected, even if I might not feel like it. He says He has a plan and hope for my future, that everyday His mercy is renewed in my life. It's not just pithy Bible verses, it's what I hold onto when Fear comes whispering, when my heart quivers and fails. My faith is not based on what I feel at any given moment; my foundation is that God is love.

I need to trust Him. That if I open up, share of myself, risk being vulnerable (in a wise and healthy way), dare to build deep relationships, moving beyond shallow "how are you?" to "I love and care for you," that He will be there for me. If people fail me, God won't. If I'm rejected, He will always be there. I don't want a lonely, empty life because I let fear rule me. I don't want to hold back because I'm afraid of getting hurt. To really love, I have to let go of my heart and trust that God will take care of it. I realize that people will fail me, might betray me, may leave me.....but I my worth is not found in them.

Jesus loved and shared His heart and life freely, then was betrayed by one of His closest friends. He knows what that pain feels like. He knows what it's like to feel utterly alone and abandoned. He knows what it's like to be stabbed in the back. He knows. And that gives me comfort, because my God has experienced what I feel. And He loves anyways. Not because He's stupid, but because a life without love is empty and meaningless.

Christmas Car Crash

Three years ago, just two days after I graduated from Northwestern College, I got in a horrible car accident on my way to work. It was a very cold day--a freeze-your-nose-hairs-when-you-breath kind of cold.
This was before I had my own car, so I normally would have driven the Saturn that my sisters and I were sharing. But that day, Leah had to work at the same time as I did, so my Dad let me use his Impala. It was icy and a little slippery as I set out, but it didn't seem unusual for Minnesota in December. I got on the highway, driving very slowly due to the ice on the road.

As I was going along, I saw a car that had spun out up ahead. Being the conscientious driver that I am, I moved over the the left lane to give the driver more room (in MN, you're supposed to move over away from cars on the shoulder). Well, I changed lanes right into the same black ice that guy had just spun out on.
I was only going about 35 mph, but I hit sheer ice and lost control of the car. Thankfully at that moment there were no cars around me. I spun around and around, headed straight for that other car. All I remember seeing was the front of that vehicle as I smashed into it.

BAM!!

I think I might have blacked out for a moment, because I couldn't hear or see anything for what was probably only a few seconds. I just remember hearing the crazy, insane beating of my heart, and then slowly, my hearing faded back in and I could hear the Celtic Woman CD still playing in the stereo. I had impacted on the driver's side of my car. I took a mental inventory of myself -- I was okay. Nothing felt broken. The airbags hadn't gone off. I looked down and saw that the seat was smooshed in. If that chair hadn't been so wide and taken all the impact, I definitely wouldn't have walked away so easily. I looked to my left and realized that the door was punched in, like a giant fist had smashed into it. But strangely, the top of the door was leaning away from me. The window hadn't even broken. My left thigh started hurting, and I realized that it had smacked into the steering wheel. Without even thinking about it, I put the car in park, and took the CD out and put it back in its case (it was from the library and I didn't want it to get scratched--funny what your brain focuses on in moments like that).
The other driver came running over as I was shakily taking stock of myself. Thank goodness, he hadn't been in his car when I hit. He had the same kind of Saturn that I would normally have been driving, and it was completely totaled. It looked like a giant had crumbled it up. All I could think was, "If I had been driving the Saturn, I would not be okay right now." Impalas are a much more heavy-duty vehicle than the chintzy Saturn.

When I crawled out on the passenger's side and walked around to see the damage, I was shocked. My car was totaled too, though not so bad off as the other vehicle; the frame was bent, the door was deeply punched in, the windshield had huge spider web cracking. My heart still was going a mile a minute, I could barely breath and I couldn't stop shaking.

I went to the hospital and got an X-ray of my leg, just be safe, but it wasn't broken, just spectacularly bruised. Thankfully, my Dad had full coverage on his Impala and got a new car pretty quickly. I went back to work two days later, with a sore leg and head ache.

It took me a little longer to get back on that highway though. It was hard to get behind the wheel after that. I wish I had a picture to show you of the accident, it was pretty spectacular. I had a slight panic attack the first time I drove after the accident. It was still winter, I still had to go to work and I couldn't have someone else drive me forever. Thankfully, I can just as easily take city streets as the highway to get to work, which is what I did for the next month.

Not giving into fear either

Three years later, I still get a tight feeling in my chest when the first heavy snow and hard freeze hits, and I have to drive in it. I have to remind myself to relax and breathe, and that within a couple weeks I'll be driving just fine in this weather. I push through the fear, because I don't want to be captive to the past. I'm going to live my life, which means I have to drive around the city year round. I refuse to let that bad experience hold me back from doing fun things. The fear is there, yes, but I won't give in to it. I'm definitely more cautious than I used to be when it comes to winter driving, however I don't freak out over every little slip and slide. Seriously, it's MinneSNOWta, the majority of the year it's cold and snowy here.

The weather today is what prompted this post--it's cold and icy. And I drove on the highway "like a baller," as my tattoo artist likes to say. (which means, awesomely)