Freedom.

 My grandfather passed away last week and though my family is certainly mourning the loss, we are also rejoicing in him being with his Maker in perfect wholeness and healing. This has me thinking about the abundant life that Christians have and what abundant life means.

It was a few years ago around this time when I sat my mother down on a rainy evening and confessed that an eating disorder had wrapped its gnarly fingers around my heart and my health. It would still be a few months before I allowed Hope to shine its rays into my darkness and anchor my soul to the mercy found at the feet of Jesus. And even when I came to the point where I personally wanted freedom from bulimia, I have an enemy who wants to destroy every inch of freedom achieved.
When I went to a Christian college for my first semester I learned to become more comfortable with my testimony. I learned to tell my story not out of shame or disgust, but out of the attitude of "look how Christ has walked with me in my struggles." In the past six months, however, the enemy has found some chinks in my defenses. These fiery arrows that were shot at my heart turned into valuable lessons. Maybe I have not handled these circumstances with great spiritual maturity in the heat of the moment, but I have walked away from them as a much stronger person. I have learned the great value of speaking words that bring life to myself and to others, the importance of bringing thoughts captive, and that my heart must first and foremost be submitted to the authority of Christ.

There are certain things that I find sometimes trigger negative thought patterns and actions. I think it is incredibly hard to speak kindly to myself when others speak negatively to their bodies (or mine). It also is more difficult to think kindly about my body after a day of splurging or not exercising, or when I am tired or stressed. So this evening, after a weekend consisting of potlucks dinners, buffet-style meals provided to my family, and unhealthy road snacks for the trip to my grandfather's funeral I was almost surprised to find myself showing grace to my body and speaking life instead of encouraging a downward spiral in my thoughts. I realized that I am FREE, so why should I expect myself to still act or think in the ways I did when I was chained by my sin?
This led me to think of just how far I have come and what it's like to taste abundant freedom in this life, to know that chains no longer shackle my heart but to know beyond any doubt that I AM FREE. Sometimes I am tricked into thinking that I have to earn more freedom and only can lose one little chain at a time. This is a lie. When I surrendered my heart to Christ, He bought my freedom. He did not buy a short supply or one chain at a time. He paid for it ALL.
In Christ, I am not my struggle. I am not defined by the authority I chained my heart to in the past. I am not bound by what the enemy says to me or about me. My worth is not determined by others.
Every wrong that I have done is swallowed up in the right of Christ and wrong done to Him. My chains are swallowed, death is beaten, and sin has lost the battle.

And so today I am thankful for the glorious and abundant freedom that I have found and I choose to proclaim His excellencies to others.

Yoga's Life Lessons

Confidence and endorphins from a good workout led me tonight to add a longer yoga routine to my daily ritual (I definitely recommend this one!). I have my normal set of Sadie Nardini, Jillian Michaels, or BeFit yoga practices I enjoy but after a week of free styling my own practice I was in the mood for something structured and slightly different. Despite the familiarity of the poses, something about them felt especially challenging.
After holding each pose for what felt like an obscene length of time, Nardini's words, "Hold this pose for 3 more breaths" offered hope for shaky muscles and a tired mind. While inflicting such pain and weariness, however, Nardini repeatedly reminded that transformation does not come without pain. Transformation happens through the burn, the holding of poses, and the pushing through of those final breaths in the practice. Without those key ingredients, there is no transformation.
All of Nardini's talk of body transformation brought to mind a motivational (and, for once, not ominous) quote of Jillian Michaels. During one of her yoga instructions she states that "it's not about perfect. It's about effort. And when you bring that effort every single day, that's where transformation happens... It is not a future event, it is a present day activity."

Though these instructors mentioned transformation in relation to yoga, I find them true for life. Sometimes transformation cannot come without great pain. The sticky situations must be endured just a little longer and it may be tempting to give up or give in to discouragement when the best does not feel good enough. Life, however, is not about being perfect, it is indeed about effort. Transformation happens when effort is delivered. When the heart begins to shake from weariness the exhausted soul should not give up. Just as muscles have to shake and endure uncomfortable positions to see growth, the heart similarly must walk through fire. But push through; the path of seeming fire may lead straight to transformation.

I close with the words of C. S. Lewis:
"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: It would be a jolly site harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad."

Handiworks and Workmanships.

This is the sunset I followed all the way home after a long day at school. My heart was in awe of the beauty and creativity of God. I did not try to suppress my worship for the majesty but took advantage of the opportunity my commute provided me to bask in God's presence. 
The words that kept repeating in my mind were, "Your handiwork is glorious!"
Because really, that's what it is. It is beautiful and glorious and majestic; there are hardly words enough to describe the goodness of God in His creation, and certainly too few words to describe the Creator. The heavens declare God's grandeur. 
I have never once looked at a sunset or some other spectacular "handiwork" and scoffed at it. I've never seen it and stated, "You know, you really left a lot to be desired today. You actually are quite flawed. You didn't meet the mark of what I thought you should look like. Your colors were not vibrant, your originality was lacking, your beauty was in incomplete. Really quite inadequate." 

Back up 8 hours in my day to my commute to school when I listened to Ephesians on the YouVersion app. Chapter 2 states that we are God's workmanship, created in Christ to do good works. When I think of handiwork I imagine something designed by hand but not requiring the degree of skill or technique that a workmanship might. Still valuable, still important, and still beautiful but not a workmanship. Workmanship... Generally, when I think of qualities of a workmanship I envision an artist at work before a tapestry. He devotes every waking moment to crafting something glorious that will bring fame to his name. He pours his creativity, his time, and possibly his very soul into his workmanship. A good artist will ensure that each of his masterpieces possesses a unique character of himself, as if he imparts a piece of his image to his work. 
And when the artist completes his work, he takes a step back and admire his artistry. He will be proud of his work and overlook the flaws it might possess. He devoted his heart to creating it, why would he be quick to point out its shortcomings? He views it and sees its potential and goodness. He declares his art exceptional because it is his workmanship.

How fascinating that I cannot bring myself to speak negatively about the handiwork of God (his creation in nature) but daily speak harsh and disrespectful words to the workmanship (the image bearer). When I bask in the glory of creation, I bask in the very glory of God. The creation points to the creator. But I was struck that when I demote the creation, I likewise reduce the Creator. 
I recently have found myself slipping into the nasty old (yet very familiar) pattern of self-disrespect. I notice only the shortcomings and inadequacies. I pick a fine tooth comb through failures, faults, undesirable events and incompleteness. Yet when I take this workmanship and declare it unsatisfactory, I imply that the Creator and his creativity are faulty.

And so this is a daily reason to sing. When the creator looks at this creation he sees his image bearer. He does not see it as possessing too much of this or too little of that. He chooses not to see the glaring faults or not-so-glorious inadequacies. If God can believe in the beauty of his workmanship, the workmanship should believe in the beauty, too. 

Sneaker Emotions

Some emotions are reliable, and it is easy to predict when they will arise. They are the steady ones experienced throughout the day, the week, the normal drone of life.
Recently, I have been surprised by a wave of sneak emotions. I tend to take advantage of the reliability of my "feels" - generally happy, generally optimistic, and generally a little slowed down after a string of cloudy days. These sneaker emotions came like a sucker punch in the gut. They appeared with zero warning yet invaded with optimal force. I despise the general feeling of sadness and often am guilty of covering them up with happiness (fake it till you make it, right?).
I have felt this set of sneaker emotions before and I hoped to not feel them again. A large portion of disappointment, an unhealthy pressure, a tinge of sadness, a darkening discouragement. When these sneaker emotions left me the last time, I remember pleading that I would not feel them again. I shook my finger at God and declared I was not strong enough to endure a second round.
It is tempting to cave to the popular idea that I have to be ok/fine/good. I believe the more courageous decision, however, is to allow oneself to feel all the feels sometimes.
And so today I decide to be brave. It takes far more courage to look these emotions in the eye and actually process and plunge deeper to the heart of their meaning than shoveling fake happiness over them. Growth is not easy and the adventure of experiencing the growing pains is rarely comfortable - but He who calls on the journey is faithful. Oh, He is faithful!
I was never created to be depressed, guilty, condemned, ashamed, or unworthy. I was created to be victorious. Victory does not mean never experiencing those feelings but it does mean I will have to look them in the eye and declare that in the end they do not have power over me.

I conclude with a quote by Edward Vernon Rickenbacker: "Courage is doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you are scared."
So today, though I am afraid, I will feel all the feels coursing through my veins. I will feel them, face them, and conquer them.
Today, though I am afraid, I will put my trust in Him who feels the feels with me but is the author of all peace and joy and fulfillment.

The Irreducible Minimum

This semester of college has presented me with numerous different experiences than I faced last semester. One of these new aspects is the commute. To redeem the 40 minute drive in the mornings, I decided to start listening to podcasts by motivational speakers or pastors. (One can only listen to the top 40 hits before memorizing every word and growing weary of the tunes.)
This morning's message was about the irreducible minimums in an individual's life. The speaker, Louie Giglio, posed the question of, when everything else is stripped away, what is the one thing (the irreducible minimum) that you cannot live without?

At first I gave the obligatory Christian response: The one thing I cannot live without is Jesus. Jesus is always a safe answer in Christian circles.
I almost forsook the podcast believing it would be just another preachy message about how Jesus needs to be first in a believer's life. I halfheartedly thought of the trivial things that add pleasure to my life but that I could easily (or not so easily) live without, such as coffee, Instagram, dark chocolate, Ella Fitzgerald, hot tea... these things are nice but in a life or death situation I could probably survive without them (though I am not too sure about the coffee).
Then the contemplations began (this 40 minute drive provides almost too much time to think). When someone has a revelation of the one thing they cannot live without, if they are wise they will do everything in their power to make sure they always have a steady supply of this, whatever it may be. They will chase it and pursue it and grab onto it with a persevering grip. It will be the prize that motivates their very existence. Pondering this somehow hit the nail on the head in my thoughts.

I have spent this semester chasing so many things, acting as if I only achieved them this growing hole in my heart could somehow be satiated.

I realized one "reducible" minimum when I viewed a test grade on this fateful Monday morning. My grades have been both a topic of pride and insecurity. Something whispers to my soul that my grades reflect my competencies not just as a student but as a whole human being. I am guilty of surrendering a piece of my worth to those numbers circled in red. I became comfortable and dependent upon my A average, mistakenly believing that my identity, worth, and competency were all reflected in that. I have often stated in the past that I would "not be able to handle" making anything less than an A. On this fateful Monday while the B swam before me through a few immature tears, I took a deep breath and repeated the words of Aibileen Clark from The Help: "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." Achieving all As is certainly a good goal, but it is merely a reducible minimum. Life goes on, even with Bs.

There is a more prominent, yet very reducible irreducible minimum that I have recently established in my life. I am attempting to convince myself that it is reducible and life will continue even though it has not gone as anticipated. At my former college, I took advantage of the very deep, vulnerable, honest, and close connections I made with people. In my optimistic spirit, I believed that life at my new school would be a continuation of my former college. I would make friends and establish a brand new identity in this brand new large circle of friends. These connections, too, would be deep and personal.
Unfortunately, my new college very much has the mindset of a commuter school. Connections are few and far between. I began keeping tally of the people I would speak to and conversations I would have in one day, in a desperate effort to challenge myself to speak to people even when these attempts were hardly productive. This tally soon began to feel like a number representing my silent pleas throughout the day, begging for that feeling of connection and belonging in social circles. The desire to establish friendship connections motivated a piece of my existence that simply was not being satisfied.
I firmly believe that friendships are important and I will not abandon either of these goals, to make As or to make friends, but when I elevate these goals to a position of being irreducible minimums, my hopes will be sorely disappointed and my heart never satisfied.

Instead of pursuing these goals and placing them as highest priority in my life, it is imperative to remember the goal that will not disappoint. "I run straight toward the goal to win the prize that God's heavenly call offers in Jesus Christ" (Phil. 3:14).
As I pursue the prize of Christ, my grade will not be a reflection of my worth but of a best attempt - an attempt that brings honor to the One who is truly deserving.
As I pursue the prize, I will not seek to talk to others for my own benefit. I will connect with them so that I can love extravagantly and not prioritize my own "need" for friendship.
And really, as I pursue the prize of the call of Christ, this should be my goal anyways. To love extravagantly, to put others first extravagantly, to be extravagantly faithful, and to be extravagantly hopeful, joyful, and persevering.

All of these ponderings still do not answer the question. What is an irreducible minimum?

Making Lemonade out of Lemons

During my last shift at work, I was tasked with making lemonade.
The first step was assessing the state of the four cases of lemons, weeding out the moldy and rotten ones, and cleaning the lemons that remained.
Where the first step focused on outward appearance, the second began changing the lemon's shape by cutting them in half to make the next step easier.
The third step was by far the longest. It was time to squeeze the lemons - change their shape, transform their nature, and remodel their image. As I hovered over the motorized squeezer, I smirked a little thinking that I was fulfilling the cliche saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."
And then my smirk disappeared when I had this crazy revelation that a walk with God is like making lemonade.
God, the squeezer, takes each individual lemon (or human, in this case) and assesses the state of their being. While looking deep into their hearts he sees them not just as what they are in that moment but everything that they could and are meant to be. He is not hindered by the messy appearance - he looks beyond the moldy nature to consider the true purpose. Meanwhile, the lemon is oblivious to the plans the squeezer has. She does not know the pain and discomfort set before her, she knows only that in her current form she feels like she just isn't quite existing in her most productive state.
The squeezer then takes his lemon in hand and splices it right down the middle. The lemon soon adjusts to this new form of existence. Changed. Different. Never going back to the old. Which is true, the lemon has encountered the squeezer and no lemon should ever be the same after this. The squeezer always brings change.
The lemon cannot remain in such a state for very long. Though it is easy to become comfortable this way, if allowed to rest in this form the lemon will soon become wrinkly and some of it's worth might begin to wane. The squeezer then takes the lemon again in hand and this time truly changes it. The lemon is exposed to the wringer and the flesh is separated from the heart and squeezed down to pure juice.

At what point in this process does the lemon have any right to say to the squeezer, "I know you intend me for different purposes, but I would like to forego the hard work and take the easy route?"

How often recently have I, a mere lemon in the hands of the Squeezer, tried to wave my pointy little finger at the one holding me and tell Him my different plan? The squeezer will not abandon the work He has begun until he sees it to completion. He sees me in my meager form and deems me worthy of the call of Christ - it is not an easy call, though. My nature must be changed, my heart separated from my flesh, and my image completely remodeled. This change is uncomfortable. There are times of doubt, questioning, and uncertainty. Does the Squeezer really understand what is best for me? Does He really mean what He says when He states this new form is necessary for growth, that I must push through to see the goodness? And if I do push through, will the goodness really come?
The answer is yes. Even in the dry, the lonely, the confusing, the uncomfortable, the wearisome, and the painful seasons, the Squeezer knows what form in which the lemon will best function. He understands the pain inflicted by the squeezing and wringing of everything on the inside, and He promises to never leave in these seasons.
And He definitely means what he says when the goodness will come. The beautiful thing is that, when in lemonade form, there is only a small ratio of lemon juice in the sugar and water mixture. So it is with God. There is only a little of us remaining, but the rest of our beings are filled with God. We are in Him and He is in us. He fills the cracks and inadequacies presented by our slight strength with His goodness and never failing strength. When we are poured out into others' lives or into the trivialities of life, God is there always ready to fill us with more of Him and His grace and joy and strength. On its own, the lemon is nothing. It is quick to rot and fade into a state of worthlessness. But with the Squeezer, the lemon is given immeasurable worth and purpose. I was encouraged by making lemonade not to be discouraged or dismayed by the squeezing and pressure of life but to hold onto to the hope of the goodness of the call presented to me.

A Red Light Encounter

Today was one of those days.
Left alone with my weariness and overwhelmed thoughts after a hectic day of classes, I sat behind a long line of cars delayed by the seemingly-endless red light that separates the students from the free world. I had Jason Derulo's latest hit cranked to the highest possible decibel, bringing a strange sort of comfort to my exhausted mind and body. My dinner of an Atkins Diet snack bar was frozen in my lunch box. I am unsure whether the moisture on my face was rain or tears (probably a mix of both).
Out of my peripheral vision I noticed the man in the car next to me had his interior lights on and was frantically motioning for me to roll down my window. Not caring to turn down my music, I slowly lowered my window and stuck a tearful head out to hear him shout,

"Tell me what first comes to your mind. Who do you love?
"Uhh... God?" I said this with a slight eye-roll and scoff in my mind. This guy was obviously feeling as nuts as I was.
"Good," he nodded eagerly. "What do you love doing?"
To this I responded without hesitation. I might as well humor the poor man. "Yoga!"
"Love God and do what you love!"
I could hardly think of a response before he excitedly shouted again, "This saves lives. The world needs to hear and the world needs to know. Don't just keep it here, take it wherever you go. Love God and do what you love!"

Then the light was green. The man was gone. Jason Derulo was quickly silenced. And the jumbled "conversation" rattled joyously in my mind. Somehow this stranger (possibly Jesus, an angel, a man on a queer witnessing mission, a man just released from an asylum, or a figment of my imagination) knew the question I regularly contemplate and discuss. Granted, it is probably assumed that this question is asked by probably every college student. But by a strange chance he echoed a couple of beloved voices that have recently spoken into my life with words like "Love God with all of your being and do what you want. Your desires will be His and His will be yours" and "Ask not simply what the world needs but also what makes you come alive, and go do it."
Something about this encounter at the stop light shook my world a little bit. I've had time recently to think about my current top two choices for a college major: one option is secondary education with an English focus and the other is some sort of shebang of a major that combines exercise science/nutritionist/yoga instructor certification (there would then be further certifications I could obtain in the exercise science and nutrition fields). I have heard no profound direction from heaven as to which path to take so I continue to ponder and pray.
But this man made it sound so simple. Love God. Do what I love. Hearing these words in the specific context of yoga made it exceptionally exciting. It raised all sorts of possibilities. What a thrilling prospect to consider joining my love for God with my desire to improve not only my life but others' as well with the benefits of yoga. The fact that the man went a step further in saying not to keep this skill here but to take it with me wherever I go sends shivers along my wander lusting skin. How perfect to take both Jesus and yoga on traveling adventures.

I am uncertain how to process the unexpected words said by this unforeseen man. I feel almost silly for considering his words so seriously and allowing myself to become this awakened by them. I do not understand the meaning behind this chance encounter. But this I do know - God is so kind. He was acquainted with my tired and questioning heart and knew the encouragement I needed. He hears my daily question of  "What would you have me do?" and cared enough to remind me not to drown my own dreams and desires. Tonight reminded me that it is okay (heck, it is good!) to dream something with an element of unknown, that requires one to walk courageously and imagine wild possibilities. It also reminded me that following God, the author of dreams, involves unexpected risk. Though I do not generally advise the risk of rolling down the window to converse with men on a rainy night.

I end with the words of T. E. Lawrence:
"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible."

Fifty Shades of Grey: Musings.

I recently began plunging my way through the sometimes scandalous pages of Fifty Shades of Grey. This book more than any other I've read makes me feel like I need to justify my reasons for reading it due to the controversial reputation it has, especially in Christian circles. I will quickly summarize by stating that I simply believe it valuable to establish a personal opinion about this book so that I can participate and be informed in the conversations it spurs among my peers.

Though I am only halfway through the book, my opinions thus far are frustrated. The main character, Ana, is infatuated with her counterpart, Grey. Ana is innocent and inexperienced whereas Grey is filled with devilish tricks. Having known each other a short time, Grey presents Ana with a contract she must sign and obey exactly if she wants to be in a relationship with him. I scoff using the term "in a relationship" to describe what Grey wants from Ana.

If Ana agrees to this relationship contract, she must surrender everything about herself to him - her body, her mind, and her spirituality. She must make herself available to him at his every whim. She must sacrifice her friends and any sense of normalcy. She would no longer be able to make decisions for herself, think independently, or even wear the clothes she wants. She cannot even keep her name, but will rather be known to Grey as "The Submissive" (similarly, Grey would become "The Dominant"). If she agrees to Grey's terms, she will no longer be permitted to look him in the eye or touch him unless on command. The contract demands everything from her, but it is posed in such a way as to seem that it is for her benefit. She will be allowed to explore herself and her desires in a freer and safer manner.

I have yet to read to discover if Ana agrees, but I can only assume she does sign the contract and surrender every part of herself since there are three books in the series. The reader is held privy to the angst Ana has over this life-altering decision. Her wavering beliefs cause me to want to reach through the pages and shake sense into her. It seems obvious to an outsider that this contract will not benefit her life like Grey claims but rather will destroy every sense of well-being she once enjoyed.

I am judging Ana fiercely for even considering surrendering her soul to this man and struggling with the implied consequences.Though I have not had time to read to the point of the signing of the contract, I have had plenty of time to mull over the contents of the book.While solving linear equations in a dark and cramped room in my college, a thought hit me.

To what do I daily (and often willingly) surrender myself?

The first thing that comes to mind is fear. I allow fear to have power over physical aspects of my life, over my mind, over my well-being, and over my spirituality. Fear prevents me from living the abundant life I am offered in Christ. Instead of submitting myself to Christ, I obtained the title "Submissive" under Fear the Dominant. When I surrender to fear, I sacrifice the ability to make confident decisions and think independently apart from that domineering voice. In short, I am guilty of committing the same act for which I am judging Ana. I surrender myself to beings who want only to destroy and control me, fear and shame. They are quite the controlling duo when given reigning power. I allow their lies to take hold, the ones that tell me I am not enough. Not good enough, not fit enough, not smart enough, not Christ-like enough, not worthy enough, the list goes on. If I dwell on these lies, they lead to believing I am not acceptable enough to draw near to my Savior, look into His eyes, and be near enough to touch Him for Him to alleviate the fear and shame.

Though I use my fear and shame as a covering, they leave me vulnerable. I believe there is hurt in God's voice as he prods me out from my blanket of fear:
Who told you that you are not enough?
Who told you that you were ugly?
Who told you that your dream was foolish?
Who told you that I would not satisfy?
Who told you there is something you need outside of Me?

In Christ, I am not vulnerably dressed in my fear and shame. They hold no power other than what I give them.

"He has clothed me with the garments of salvation; He has covered me with robes of righteousness." 

New Adventures

"God is not only a God of the unexpected call, but also the unexpected fulfillment. When God gives the unexpected call do not run from it or ignore it. With the challenge comes fulfillment. Answer the unexpected call. Embrace the unexpected challenge. Rejoice in the unexpected fulfillment." (The words of a wise chapel speaker at Toccoa Falls College.)

One week from today I begin a new and unexpected adventure. I call it unexpected because had someone told me six months ago where I would be today I most certainly would not have believed them. Six months ago I had a stable plan for my life, though I was not overly excited about it (and we all know they saying about "the best laid plans often go astray"). I planned to move to school in Georgia for four years, get a solid education and achieve a degree, and find someone with whom to spend the remainder of my years. We would then live happily ever after traveling the world, drinking coffee, wearing TOMS, and reading inspiring books.

My four year stay in Georgia, however, turned into a four month stay that taught me more than I ever imagined. It taught me how to open my heart and my arms to those around me in order to establish a deep level of community. I learned that, though not always comfortable, in order to form such deep relationships certain levels of vulnerability and accountability are required. I know this will serve me well in my future as I continue to seek to create and grow relationships.

I had a glorified view of attending a private school and moving away from home, but an enhanced outlook is rarely realistic and things are not always as one imagines.

I determined how to make decisions (both serious and trivial) for myself which, as an indecisive person, can prove to be a very challenging task. While seeking to make the decision on my own to transfer to a school closer to home, I learned to seek God in a way that I had not done in the past yet confidently move forward.

A few months before leaving for Georgia when an attractive and Christ-loving Coast Guardsmen caught my eye in church, I told myself (and almost everyone around me) that anything more than being acquaintences would be impossible due to our age difference and varying life experience. I quickly realized in Georgia as this relationship blossomed that the word "impossible" needed to be eliminated from my vocabulary. Many months later, this Coastie has completely stolen my heart and I would have it no other way. (This also goes to show, "Never say never.")

I learned that God can use even my areas of glaring weaknesses for his glory.

I expected to learn great things in Georgia, but the greatest lessons were those that were unexpected. This, too, goes for adventures. I expected the adventures involved with moving but the ones that will stay in my heart and continue to bring joy are the ones that I did not see coming and took me by surprise. This is why I look forward to my new adventure starting one week from today. Though I expect it in general terms, I know that chances are I am not yet aware of the grand ones that will catch me off guard and be the most memorable. Many adventures will sneak up on me, some might shake my world a little bit, and some might make me feel overwhelmed, but those will be the ones to leave the greatest and lasting mark. They will be the ones to etch lessons in my heart, to strengthen me, to help me grow, and help me to see life from a new perspective.

I believe God not only gives the unexpected call but also beckons the brave on unexpected adventures. The One who calls on the adventures is faithful and offers unexpected fulfillment for those with hearts willing to accept the challenge.

Here's to Adventures!

A Lover of All Things Good

In this period of struggle between adolescence and adulthood the question “Who are you?” is constantly being posed or implied, both by myself and by others. In a season of change, eloquently answering this question can prove to be a daunting task. When not over-analyzed by my sometimes critical self-evaluations, the answer is summarized in the overly simple phrase “I am a lover of good.”

I am a lover of God, who above all is good and faithful. He provides the good things that make my heart smile and my soul sing.

I am a lover of family. This includes not just the family into which I was born but also the family I have been blessed to choose through friendship. Family provides a community, a sharpening of one another, and warm embraces to share.

I am a lover of coffee and books and sun shiney days. I am a lover of cozy blankets and fragrant candles, of my puppy, and of yoga. I am a tea-drinking lover of sentimentality and laughter, of the warmth of the ocean and beauty of the mountains. I am a lover of travel, of beauty, and of explorations and adventures.

Though I am lover of all things good, I often forget the many reasons I have to choose joy. I become preoccupied with life’s little conundrums and let their trivialities consume my heart. I search my heart for a reason to sing yet countless reasons stand before me if I would simply open my eyes to glimpse their beautiful goodness.

I dedicate this blog to celebrating the good things in life. To continue in my identity as a lover of good I must remember the good things that bring my heart to life. Every day poses a new reason to sing even if it involves finding joy in the little things, such as a delicious brew of coffee or completing an assignment. My heart will find reasons to sing to God, who is always loving, always faithful, and most certainly always good. If I cannot rejoice in the Giver of good things then how can I rejoice in the gifts he pours into my life?

May this be the year of finding things to be passionate about and pursuing them, of having the courage to dream big, spreading kindness, loving with all my heart, facing the unknown with confidence, and rejoicing in the little things. Good things are in store for those who have eyes open wide to see them.