After all falls apart, He repairs.

Funny the things you start to recognize when you “grow up,” eh? Why do we become more and more aware of pain as we get older? Is it because there is more hurt, or because we are more aware of it? I know it’s the latter. The closer I grow to the heart of God, the more my heart truly bleeds for people. Yeah, I know, this is starting out pretty heavy. But my heart is pretty heavy now. . . so I guess that’s just what you’re going to get tonight.

Over the pats couple of years, I have known a handful of women that have gone through quite similar battles. The battle is called by different names, but to its core–the roots are identical. The indescribable pain of longing so deeply for child, but having to face the reality that stands before them instead. And in that battle–I have watched, groaned, and mourned (sometimes publicly, sometimes silently) right along with them. I have asked the questions, fought back the tears, and listened as I impatiently jumped to false conclusion about myself. What if I’m not able to have children? What if this happens to me? How will I handle it? Will I handle it?

A dear friend of mine has gone through two miscarriages in the past two years, and while I sat and cried with her as she told me her story–I could not help but hang on her words, “What’s wrong with me? Why do I see other women around me that can carry their children just fine, and I can’t make it past stage 1, 2, or 3?” What–seriously–what do you say to that? Nothing.

This past summer, Kyle and I got the news that we were going to be an aunt and uncle. Kyle’s brother and sister-in-law, Sean and Sheyenne, had tried to have a child for a long time, and had begun the process of adoption when they found out they were pregnant. So much joy filled our family–specifically Sean and Sheyenne, as they had been through the struggle for over a year.

Just before our wedding, Sean and Sheyenne found out that the child they were carrying was in fact a little girl. But along with joy came tremendous pain–the possibility that although she might survive the birth, she would not survive much longer. I won’t go into many more details than that, but needless to say, throughout the waiting, praying, and crying–Whitney Jill died two weeks ago.

Usually with birth, comes life. In Whitney’s case, with birth, came death. And to be painfully, scary honest–my heart hurts. I have made attempts over the past couple of weeks to suck it up, not ask questions, not to be in pain–because I know that none of those things will make any of this go away. Whitney will not survive the womb because of my questions. But the other night, after reading through Whitney’s birth story that Sheyenne wrote, I lost control.

For the past few weeks, my heart has been sort of numb. Numb in the good kind of way–not the kind where I’m isolated, alone. . . but the kind that is a survival-type of numb. Last night, though, the numbness sort of wore off. Finally. I’m not used to feeling numb. In fact, I can probably count on my hand the several times I have not worn my heart on my sleeve in the midst of trying circumstances. But these past few weeks just called for it, I suppose.

Losing composure is never fun. Because in truth, I’m not mad at God. Not for one minute have I been angry. I have been deeply saddened, burdened, but at the same time overcome with joy that Christ reigns SO MUCH IN THEIR HEARTS that in the midst of the most painful experience I could imagine or dream, Christ remained at the forefront. Even when I don’t mean it, even when I can hardly save it, I know that after all falls apart, He will repair.

we’ve got some news…

No, we’re not pregnant. :)

After much deliberation, research, conversation, etc., Kyle and I have made the joint decision to get the dog of our dreams. Blogger world, get acquainted with our soon-to-be puppy, Abigail. A bulldog, you ask? Yes, a bulldog. Because really, what other dog would possibly fit? No other.

This Thursday, we’ll be bringing her home with us. Say hello.

okay with the uncomfortable.

My mind has been wandering a lot lately about my tendency to drift towards people that are “easy” for me to be around. We have bought into this lie that says, “Be around people just like you,” or, “You will only learn from people your age,” or even worse, “You can only learn from people you can stand.” Ouch.

Even though moving states isn’t that big of a deal for some people, it was for me. It changed me in a way that I didn’t expect, and the entire time I fought this battle of wanting to stay the same but not entirely sure how to do so when so many of my circumstances (and many of the people in my life) were undeniably different.

And in some form, all of us are in a place that does not look anything like we thought it would. If we’re not, I’d wonder if we were really living. And I have this scary tendency to run towards the familiar when I am in an uncomfortable place–whether it be with a person or a circumstance, I run to the familiar because I so often fall back on safety.

Beth Moore said something recently that spoke to me in a way that goes beyond what I can express, so rather than try to repackage what she said, I’ll just give you the Beth Moore version verbatim… because really, nobody says Beth Moore like Beth Moore.

“He is constantly adjusting us so that he can bring us into the thought-process of what he’s called us to do. Just because you are in a situation and think, ‘I don’t fit here,’ doesn’t mean you’re not supposed to be there. You probably are supposed to be there. Your biggest adjustments will not be to circumstances, but to people.

You’re going to find that you are in constant flux, constant change. God will put you in situations… but what we want to do is go into a new situation and still be the same old person. You’re in a new situation so that YOU CAN BECOME NEW in your person and in your character. Until we die we are going to keep changing if we’re in the will of God. His whole point is conforming us into the image of Christ. Unless you look just like Him today, and love like Him, and act like Him, you are not finished.”

I was challenged today by that very thought. As I have tried to adjust to this pattern on a weekly basis of preparing to teach–I have also had to emotionally evaluate my own life to make sure that I’m even speaking truth. And in that, I pray and hope I am evolving/changing more and more each day. Although it may cause friction in my life, if it makes me even a hint more like Jesus, it’s worth it.

in pursuit of the sexy.

I have noticed this really scary trend lately amongst twenty, thirty, forty, and well… any-age-somethings. We have confused living a life of “purposeful risk” ” for “sexy.”

When I first moved to North Carolina, back in June of 2008, I did a “sexy” thing for “sexy’s” sake. I moved to another state, pursued something “dangerous,” (I laugh at this now), and thought that by moving somewhere far away–I would find what I was looking for. Something different, scary, unknown, risky, etc.

What I realized during that time was that you don’t have to move 500 miles away to do something risky, different, scary, or uncomfortable. Thankfully, in the midst of the “sexy,” I experienced “purposeful risk” (which does not always happen). This reminds me of that stuuuuupid John Mayer song, Waiting On the World to Change. Honestly? Waiting? Since when did we wait on the world to change and not change our own world? And really, I would ask–why wouldn’t we? If we’re so obsessed with purposeful risk, why do we shut our eyes to the world within five miles of us?

I understand that people move to different places in life, and that’s great. There are some people that truly seek and desire to move around, be nomads, and travel the world for a purpose beyond themselves. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. However-in pursuit of the sexy, I also believe we can actually live without any purpose at all. Is it possible to ever experience the true beauty behind being known and knowing others when you uproot yourself every twelve months?

When you reach that year-mark, something risky happens. People begin to know you for who you really are, and as a result, you have the opportunity to know them right back. And you love them. And they love you. And it’s scary, risky, and crazy good for us. Why do we feel the need to change our zip code? Why do we feel the need to physically plant ourselves in different geographical locations–as if that will cure our unsatisfied desire within our souls? I don’t believe it will. In fact, unless we are currently doing everything we can, with everything we have, in the exact place we are–I somehow doubt that changing our zip code will somehow change our approach to life.

shut my eyes, tell me something different.

Sometimes I wonder, in the midst of chaos, how everyone around me seems to be going through life just fine. Smiling, laughing, filling up their gas tank, going out to eat. . . as though no one around them is suffering. Shouldn’t the world be stopping because ________?

I feel that way right now.

My heart swells for the people of Haiti. I don’t claim to be better because of this. Because, to tell you the truth, although I watched footage on and off all day, spent a better part of it with my soul on its knees, and tried to find ways to get other friends connected, I came home tonight and watched American Idol. I laughed while making dinner. I forgot about Haiti.

I wonder how it is that we can turn our minds off to the things that devastate us. Or is it, rather, that we are no longer devastated because we really are wrapped up in ourselves?

I went to post something tonight on Facebook about an update from some of the people that are in Haiti from Chapel Rock, but instead of finding more ways to support, more people praying–I saw status updates about television shows that were on tonight, weekend plans, new purchases made. And although I judge no one for it (how hypocritical would that be), I am still startled by our ability to turn our eyes and listen to a different song. To hear different screams. I am overcome by our ability to forget that people are hurting. So tonight, I pray for broken hearts and hands that will move beyond our daily lives and into those that are damaged and hurting.

New, newer, and newest.

I am embarrassed to think about the grim and unfortunate truth that I have become quite the boring blogger. I start out every blog with hopes of being witty, clever, and even on a good day inspiring. And yet, every time I sit down to write something on here–no words seem to come to mind.

Perhaps that has everything to do with the fact that my life has been on high-speed lately and I am just now starting to settle in. In case you didn’t know, I got married a little over a month ago. New: wedding. Newer: new last name. Newest of all: husband. Moving swiftly along. . . I started my job. New: a real paycheck. Newer: living in one place at a time. Newest: getting to love and hang out with students for a living. :) Next transition–I finished school. New: not going to class. Newer: not writing any more papers. Newest: continuing to be a lifelong learner in much more conducive environments.

So, there you have it–three major life transitions summed up in a few short sentences. As I have referenced before, transition has always been somewhat of a struggle for me–but living in a perpetual state of transition has definitely softened the blow of making three major life transitions all in one month. It’s been splendid, in fact. When I have more time, I promise to write something worthwhile. Well, I take that back, I promise to write something. Until then, thanks for stopping by.

Wedding Day

Hello all. Yes, this is my wedding day. And yes, I am crazy enough to make time for a post the morning of one of the biggest days of my life.

I’ve always tried to contain memories, whether they be through pictures or journals. Either way, I want to describe a little bit of how I’m feeling this morning so that I know I will not be able to forget it.

Last night was a total and complete blurr to me. Thank goodness the bridesmaids and everyone else had their life together because the entire rehearsal I was in a daze. Is this seriously happening? Are we really going to be the center of attention all day? It’s exhausting to think about.

But here’s the exciting part…

From this day forward, I get to share my life with Kyle. We get to walk through life together–and that, I am more than ready for. So no matter what happens today… if Brynn, Noland, and Shelby don’t make it all the way down the aisle, if something happens to my dress, if the wrong song is played, etc. etc., at the end of it–Kyle and I will be married. That’s what matters. And that whole marriage thing… yeah, I’m not even a little nervous about that. :)

Hope you all enjoy your November 28th. I know I will.

She is thus, man’s glory…

As I’ve been studying and preparing for my NT Seminar presentation, I came across this statement by Gordon Fee in his commentary of 1 Corinthians. He’s actually discussing creation here, and the story of Adam and Eve, but I absolutely love the way he phrases this. I have no direct thoughts for now… but just wanted to share it with you all. :)

“Man by himself is not complete; he is alone, without a companion or helper suitable to him. The animals will not do; he needs one who is bone of his bone, one who is like him but different from whom, one who is uniquely his own “glory.” … She is thus man’s glory because she ‘came from man’ and was ‘created for him.’ She is not thereby subordinate to him, but necessary for him. She exists to honor as the one who having come from man is the one companion suitable for him, so that he might be complete and that together they might form humanity.” (Fee 517)

I love the idea that she is not subordinate to him, but necessary for him. Together… they might form a team. Neither is wholly benefitted without the other. This is so my heart… together they might form humanity.

Positive Patsy.

After living with Stephanie Norwood this summer, the most glass-half-full person I know, I have been transformed. So much so, in fact, that instead of being a Negative Nancy the past week, I have indeed been a Positive Patsy. . . and I owe it all to Steph!

I came down with some sort of virus this week, and although most have been bummed out by illness during this time of year, I embraced it. Illness, you could not have come at more perfect time. And no, I’m not being sarcastic. I’m 100% serious.
I have this problem. I guilt myself way too often over things that are not. my. fault. Someone looks at me weird after a conversation? Think about it for hours. Turn in a half-butt paper? Feel remorse every time I see my professor. Have free time? Wonder what I could be doing instead. You get the idea. . .
So with this illness thing, I realized that the best thing I could do for my body would be to chill the heck out, relax, lay on the couch, eat some pretzels, and be fine with that. And so, my friends, I have composed a list of all the positive things that come along with being sick:
1. I got to be a kid again and make Raspberry Jello Jigglers.
2. I caught up on TV shows that I never get to watch in “adult world,” like Ellen, the Today Show, and other daytime television shows that stunt my brain growth…
3. Now that Hulu has been invented, I also caught up on nighttime television programs, specifically The Office, Modern Family, and Community.
4. I emailed friends that I haven’t talked to in a while (would’ve called, but that whole “talking” thing wasn’t working out so well…)
5. I took naps and felt 0% guilt–it was a necessity.
6. I decided not to take a shower, and actually had a legitimate reason besides just being lazy.
7. During delusional sick dreams, I woke up thinking I was bald and then felt ecstatic to realize I had a full-head of hair. (How often do I get to be thankful for that?)
Can you think of some more reasons why being sick isn’t so bad? Add to the list…