Even So, It Is Well

I've got an anxious heart. I have emotions that battle with reason, so that even when I know I'm safe my brain says fight or flee. Despite a notoriously calm demeanor, I have a mind that is often anything but calm. When I became particularly restless last night, I found my way to the beach. The sun was just beginning to set, the breeze was light, and the waves were steady and soothing. All thoughts were washed away but this: The God who holds this all together is holding me. It is well.

Listening to those waves I acknowledged that my emotions are sometimes out of my control. I can't always drive away anxiety or make myself feel hopeful or loving or kind. My head sometimes feels like a mess of clouds and overcast, a heart that doesn't know how to fully rejoice in this life.

Even so, my God speaks to storms, "Peace, be still." His face hovers over the water. The Lord comforts me. He talks of peace like a river, glory like an overflowing stream, and I know it is well with my soul.

When anxious thoughts fight for control, even so it is well.
When the storm is rolling and the waves are crashing, even so it is well.
When I don't feel loving or lovable, even so it is well.

There Will Be Nights Like This

My dear friend Abby got married last weekend. She was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. Dancing with so many Trinity friends was a blast. And the sparkler send-off was the perfect way to end the night.














I cried on the way home.

Overwhelmed with happiness. God gave me the most wonderful gift by giving me this group of friends. His goodness was so evident to me in that moment. And I couldn't help thinking about me as a freshman, in the valley of depression, and how much I needed to know then that there would be days like this. There would be friendships and weddings, dancing and tears of joy. There would be nights when I fall asleep with this last thought: life is good.

Be All There

“Wherever you are, be all there.”

I am teaching myself to be fully present each moment. To not rush through the moments, the minutes, the days, the seasons. To believe that the next moment is not guaranteed, but there is this moment.

So I don’t hurry to arrive early to class. I take time to notice sunlight through golden leaves.

So I don’t check my phone habitually. I appreciate the people in front of me and I laugh with them.

So I don’t anxiously speed read the textbooks. I soak up what I can and thank God I get to learn about something I love.

So I don’t dread the moment the sleeping baby wakes up. I hold her and watch her smile at her dreams.

So I don’t stuff down the feelings. I let myself feel it all, the disappointment and the joy.

When I am fully present in the moments, life becomes full of moments, and that sounds like life abundant to me. My life is FULL, and I am thankFULL.

Riding the Wind

I am loving this blustery day.

I see falling leaves, and the spinning seems more like riding the wind than chaos. Maybe because I’ve stopped thinking of life’s turns as a loss of control and started letting myself be carried along.

Because the idea that I can control everything is an illusion, one I use sometimes when I need to feel secure.

But I don’t want to be a leaf that fears leaving the tree so much that the natural descent to the ground feels like spinning out of control.

I want to be a leaf that knows the seasons change and doesn’t fear the fall. A leaf that dances all the way down, swirling and spinning because this is exactly where I’m supposed to be so I might as well enjoy it.

Identify

Next Sunday I’m going to walk into Lake Michigan, fully clothed, and be dunked under the water. There will be some clapping, maybe some shouting, and then I’ll walk back to shore.

I’m going to be baptized.

This may be confusing to some who have known me for a while. I made a commitment to Christ eight years ago and have been actively pursuing a life of discipleship and ministry for the last four. Why get baptized now?

Eight years ago, I didn’t think it was necessary for me to be re-baptized. After all, I had been baptized as an infant. So it never crossed my mind.

The fact that I am now being baptized does not mean that the decision I made eight years ago wasn’t the real thing. Baptism doesn’t provide me with salvation, but it publicly identifies me as a believer. Marriage is a commitment made visible by the exchanging of rings, and so my commitment to trust Christ as my Savior is about to be made visible by my immersion in the water.

Let me be perfectly clear. I’m choosing baptism now because I want there to be no question about who I am and whose I am. My baptism is a public declaration that I believe in the saving grace of Jesus Christ. I am a new creation. The old has gone; the new has come!

“Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. 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.”   Romans 6:1-11

Brittany

Testify

As a young teen, I was weighed down by feelings of loneliness, low self-esteem, and bouts of depression. Not knowing how to cope with these feelings, I would cut myself to release some of the tension I was feeling. I felt trapped in my own mind, not knowing who to talk to or even how to talk about what I was going through.

At the time my family didn’t go to church a lot, but I had a friend who did. She invited me to her youth group, and it was there that I heard the gospel of a God who loved me and sent His son to die for my sin, releasing me from the grips death. I learned that this same God knew all about me and wanted to love me and lead me. In December of 2006, my freshman year of high school, I accepted Jesus Christ as the Lord of my life.

Shortly after that, my family decided to start going to church regularly. I learned how to talk about what I was feeling and spent a lot of time in prayer and journaling. I stopped cutting, but the depression is something I would wrestle with for years. Becoming a Christian didn’t mean that my life was instantly easy, but it meant that I had a hope to hold on to and a God who listened to my cries. Each day I had to choose to put my hope in Him again and again.

Today God is still working in me, sanctifying me and preparing me for a life of ministry. In a French village He spoke to me, saying, “Be like the sunflower, forever seeking my face.” That’s exactly what I plan to do for the rest of my life and for eternity.

Abundantly, As From The Deep

I have been back at Trinity for almost a week now, and already I am being called into places of deeper trust. Mostly this trust is being required of me in areas of finance and provision. I made it a goal this summer to take steps toward financial peace and, in general, better money management. I knew it would require trust in God’s faithfulness in order to practice giving as the first priority with my money. But then it hit me. Hard. How do I practice trust and giving when I have next to nothing? When, in fact, I am actually starting with a negative balance.

Here is the reality of my situation:
I have about $20 left on my credit card for groceries. I owe some people quite a bit of money. I don’t get paid for another two weeks. On top of that, I need to replace two tires on my car.

This, also, is reality:
I have a Father who knows what I need. A Father who sustains life. A Father who gives good gifts. And I can count on my Father’s faithfulness.

This I also know:
He has given me the gift of faith, so I firmly believe that He will provide for me. Even more than that, I have faith that He will provide abundantly. Because He fed 5,000 and there were leftovers. Because the widow’s flour and oil was renewed every day. Because He loves to give me good things. Because He is unlimited. And because He is the God who looked at nothing, spoke to it, and created everything.

So yeah, I still trust Him. And because He gives generously, I will also give generously.

“He split rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink abundantly as from the deep.” – Psalm 78:15

When It Doesn’t Look Like It Should

I graduated from college two weeks ago. And anyone who has been there knows the question that undoubtedly comes after: “So what’s next for you?”

If I did all of the things I was supposed to, if I had all my things together, if I followed the plan the answer to that question would be pretty easy, respectable, maybe even impressive. I would probably say something about landing the perfect entry-level job in my field or getting a great internship for the summer that will prepare me for graduate studies in the fall.

Instead, I get to admit that I spent this week moving furniture, counting mattresses, and picking up garbage on campus.

Not exactly the answer you’d expect.

But this works for me. This is what my life looks like for this season. And I’m working on being okay with that and not comparing my progress to the progress of everyone around me. I’m working on celebrating with those who have their post-grad plans lined up, and I’m working on accepting that not knowing is totally normal.

There are people who have things figured out more than I do. And that’s okay.

There are people who have things figured out less than I do. That’s okay too.

I am in this place for a season, and this season has a purpose. God’s got a plan for it all and maybe He will choose to reveal it to me, maybe He won’t. But I trust that He is still good and He still knows what He is doing, even when I don’t.

“In the hands of our Redeemer, nothing is wasted.”

Shake Your Mane

“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bears his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
-The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

It’s been a hard winter
Shake your mane

Five long months of
Heavy snow, biting wind
Shake your mane

Schools close
Roads slow
Boughs break
Shake your mane

Tears don’t flow
They freeze
Holding cold hands
Joints crack like pavement
Shake your mane

For Brittany, Four Years Ago

In this life you will have pain
You will want to sleep
You will want to close your eyes
Wake up, keep them open

Remember that beautiful things spring forth
From cracked earth, cracked jars, cracked hearts
You will want to be awake to see them
You will wonder with eyes wide

Spring Came

 

My heart was so heavy with winter, but Spring came.
My hands were frozen in writer’s block, but Spring came.

Spring came, and the Sunflowers turned their heads
To face the Lion who had just shaken his mane.

Spring came.

A Walk with Papa

“Remember that on this walk together, where we are going is a surprise, a secret that only I know. At times on this walk you will not see me. Remember that I am still with you. Trust my voice to instruct you in the way you should go. I know where I am leading you; trust me. I do not leash you or bridle you, forcing you along. No, I desire that you would follow me, walk with me, willingly as one who loves and trusts me. You can trust me, Brittany.”

We Shall Have Spring Again

“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bears his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
-The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

It seems that winter has decided to stay for a while. I am so tired of the bitter cold. So done with snow and ice. So over hard, dead ground.

Let the roaring lion shake his mane and shake the snow from these limbs.

A Quiet Afternoon

A quiet afternoon
Old sweater, steady snow
A blanket for cold skin and raw earth
Insulated, undisturbed
Open arms, bitter wind
An invitation to come in

Fall Gently, Lightly

Fall gently, lightly
Not like crashing, breaking glass
Like dust settling in a room
Quiet even when stirred

Fall gently, lightly
Not like heavy, driving rain
Like a soft afternoon snow
A call to slow down

Fall gently, lightly
Not like painful, gasping breath
Like a sleepy exhale
Natural in its rhythm

That Time of the Year

I haven’t made any resolutions for 2014.

I’m not against the concept of New Year’s resolutions, but the way they’re usually done doesn’t seem to work. You all know how it goes: you declare that this is the year you’re going to lose weight/quit smoking/stick to a budget/travel more, etc. But by February you have forgotten all about those resolutions (if you hadn’t already failed by mid-January). So you make those same resolutions again the next December.

I’m not on board with that.

This year I’m trying something different.

It’s hard to keep focused on resolutions throughout an entire year, especially when those resolutions are vague or hard to measure. But short-term goals are a lot more manageable. So this year I am trying something new: making goals every three months in the physical, financial, intellectual, social, and emotional areas of my life.

In the interest of accountability (whatever accountability there is in internet sharing), I am putting my goals out here.

Physical – Get back down to my original goal weight of 150
After a lot of hard work to reach my goal weight earlier this year, I got off track when my schedule changed. I haven’t gained back a lot, but I would like to get back to the disciplined eating and exercising I had before. Setting a concrete goal like the number 150 will give me something measurable to focus on.

Financial – Understand where my money goes
Admittedly, I’m not very good at saving money. This year I have recognized that I often go shopping simply because I am bored, and often money feels like it’s eating a hole in my pocket until the urge to spend results in mindless shopping. So this week I have been researching the basics of budgeting, and I plan to document my spending in order to better understand my habits and see where I can start saving money.

Intellectual – Complete all reading assignments on time
When the my grades for the fall semester came out, I was so proud of the work I put into my classes. But I know I could have pushed myself a little harder and gotten more out of my classes had I done all the readings for all of my classes. So this semester the plan is to write down all of the reading assignments in my planner ahead of time so I know what is coming up, and to carve out time in my weekly schedule specifically for academic reading.

Social – Stop initiating and engaging in gossip
Recently I have recognized a disturbing habit of gossiping about certain people in my everyday conversations with some friends. I acknowledge this as an unhealthy habit that prevents me from loving some of my brothers and sisters in Christ. So the gossiping has to stop. I want to stop initiating it, and I plan to have a response ready for when others initiate gossip in my presence.

Emotional – Journal five days a week
One of the best practices for my emotional health has been journaling. It may be obvious, but I process my life by writing about it. In the interest of working through my thoughts and emotions, I want to make journaling a more disciplined part of my life.

So there it is, my short-term goals for January-March 2014. My hope is that breaking up the year into shorter intervals will make my goals more manageable. I hope that I have put enough thought and intentionality into setting these goals that they will be clear and success can be more easily measured.

Because I’m tired of failed resolutions.

Here’s to goals and growth in 2014,

 

P.S. Feel free to share your goals for the New Year in the comments. Or share any suggestions you may have for making my goals more clear and measurable. Thanks for reading!

Sitting Down

I am sitting here drinking coffee and watching the snow fall as the She & Him Christmas album plays in the background. My world is calm and quiet and slow.

But it’s not supposed to be like this.

It’s finals week. I should be drinking my third cup of coffee, switching frantically between Facebook, Pinterest, and a Race and Ethnics study guide. My world should be full of distraction and anxiety.

But it’s not, and I won’t pretend that it is.

Sure, I have things to do. I have tests to prepare for, gifts to purchase and wrap, a room to pack up. But, thank God, I have learned am learning the skill of time management (that’s right, it’s a skill, not a gift). I have studied what I need to, so I have time to take a break. I’m not in over my head. I am not sleep-deprived. I am not hurried. But I realize what I am feeling (or not feeling) is not normal.

College culture glorifies busy and celebrates stress. Overwhelmed Tweets in all caps and Instagram pictures of to-do lists serve as badges we can show off to say, “Look how busy I am.” Because busy means responsible, right? Because the more assignments and meetings in my planner the more important I am? I have to prove that I am more stressed out than the person next to me to prove that I am the harder working student?

What the heck is up with that?

Luke 10:38-42 says, “Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.’ But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.’”

Martha was busy. She was “anxious and troubled about many things.” And, in her busyness, she complained.

Mary chose what is good. Close fellowship with the Lord, sitting at Jesus’s feet, was considered to be the greatest possession.

So this finals week, I am trying to be a little less like Martha and a little more like Mary. I want to complain a little less, and sit a little more. And that’s something that Mary chose. She had to choose to sit down instead of let herself be overwhelmed with work.

Lord, help me choose to sit with you this week.

Story Time with Papa

As I sit on the couch, the morning sun sends warm, golden light through the window. I sip my coffee and close my eyes. My face instinctively turns toward the sun. I am, after all, a sunflower. At least that’s what my Papa calls me.

I am His daughter. The one at whom He smiles. The one who often climbs into His lap and asks for a story. That’s what I do this morning. The soft couch is His lap; the golden sun, His smile. I ask Him for a story.

Papa tells me the story of my sister, Esther, the lovely one. He tells me of her beauty, how it won her the favor of the king. He tells me about her love for her uncle and her people. Such love that gave the young queen courage to petition the king. Because of her courage, and because the king favored her, the entire Jewish race was saved.

Papa knows I love this story. I love imagining the palace, the banquets, the robes, the celebration feasts. I admire Esther’s obedience and integrity. Papa leans in and whispers, “The king favored Esther because she was beautiful; you are beautiful because your Papa loves you.”

The sun shines brighter as it rises higher in the morning sky. I smile back and thank Papa for the story. I uncurl myself from the couch and prepare for the day, still smiling because I am His daughter. Because I am His beautiful sunflower.

Praying the Same Prayer

It does not take much courage to talk about the things one has overcome. It takes a great deal of courage to talk about the things that are still in progress. I say that as prelude to this next confession: I struggle with anxiety.

Looking through some old documents, I found this prayer I wrote down almost exactly two years ago:

God, I really need you.

I am overwhelmed. I can barely breathe with the weight of all these mixed emotions. There’s so much fear and anxiety. I feel overworked and exhausted and uncomfortable. I want so much for this to be a growing experience, but I feel trampled. God, use this place and this situation to mold me. Help me learn from the stress and the fear. Rid me of the emotional baggage I’ve brought here and be with me as I encounter even bigger obstacles this summer. Be my rock, my strength, my guide, and my light. Be my teacher, my lover, my father, my friend, and my savior. I don’t know how to handle any of this on my own, so I need you. I am weak and easily swayed, but you are strong and firm. I ask that you walk with me through this camp, giving me words to speak and ears to listen, revealing yourself to me in new and bold ways. Holy Spirit, take away my spirit of timidity and fill me instead with a spirit of passion. Replace fear with love.

All for Your glory, Amen.

Two years later and I am still praying the same prayer.

I still struggle, but, thank God, I do not struggle on my own. He is making all things new.

Catharsis and Contentment

I am convinced that there is not much more satisfying than reading a good book on a stormy day. There is something so beautiful about the sky opening up and a soul letting out a deep sigh. The sky’s catharsis and the soul’s contentment. There is something about a warm, dry room with a view of a cold, wet world that feels safe. As the sky cracks and clouds roll, there is a world inside a world. The magic of a story is easier to imagine when accompanied by the percussion of rain. I can put myself in Sophie’s World and let the garden of my mind be watered. I am lulled to sleep, carried on a thundercloud.