Tag Archive for: pain

When it feels like God screwed you over.

/in ,

I’ve never been able to compartmentalize my feelings to one situation. If someone has wronged me it spills over into our entire relationship until I have properly dealt with it. But until I do, it affects everything. I don’t love that about myself, but I know it’s a part of who I am. It goes hand in hand with being empathetic and sensitive, always asking deep questions and needing the answers.

I know I need God. My head believes in a higher power that looks out for us in ways we can’t comprehend. I believe that there is good in every situation and that angels surround us, stroking our hair when we cry and as the world falls apart around us. But the God in my head and the one In my heart just aren’t the same.

I came to this conclusion a few weeks ago with the help of my therapist. I have been feeling distant from God, craving lots of space from the evangelical normalcies I had grown up with my whole life. I can’t connect to many of the things that the modern church stands for, and yet there’s so much I love as well. I’ve realized that there’s a divine being that I know that I need, one I’ve been searching for my whole life, and then there is the God I’ve been hearing about my whole life. And the two are not the same.

As I grow and gain life experience, I am not willing to pretend anymore. I will not accept answers that explain away doubt and fear. I will not settle for another bible verse to stick into every situation. I want way more than that.

But in order to get there, I know I have baggage to resolve with the God of my heart. My past is riddled with painful moments where I don’t believe with my heart God was present. Everything I have learned might tell me that of course, He was. But I’m not there. I’m not feeling it. I need to work through the junk standing in my way so that I can cling to the feet of Jesus once again and fully believe that He is with me as has been with me this whole time.

Denying that I feel this way won’t help me. Walking through life submitting to the beliefs of others won’t free me. This is my journey to a deeper relationship with God. A deeper knowledge of this higher power who I am sure is much less like the God of the modern church than many of us think.

Are you there? Are you desiring God but unable to fit yourself into the box He’s been put in? Do you need to know it’s okay to rearrange every piece of your faith? Tear it all down people, rebuild brick by brick. Take the time to figure out who God is. Learn to separate that from cultural Christianity and find freedom in the beauty of both. You are not alone. So many of us are doing it. A journey to die to our own selves, and to really be more like Jesus-not who others say He is, but who He actually is.

Happy Friday dear friends!

Even if.

/in , ,

I’ve always known I had a choice. I can live in constant fear of the worst happening, or surrender to the fact that I have no control.

This is the lesson that I have been learning my whole life in various ways, but parenthood has really slapped the icing on the cake. Because now there’s this teeny tiny person who relies on me for everything and yet I ultimately have very little control over her life. Yes I make choices that affect her on the day to day, but in the grand scheme of things, her life is out of my hands.

It happened on day one. I had already been wrestling with how my relationship with God might navigate parenthood. Pregnancy had brought with it more anxieties then I had expected. But when Lilah was born she was taken to the NICU. This was it, the moment of deciding what kind of parent I was going to be. Eric and just looked at each other and I said, “I guess this is parenting. We don’t have control of this.” And we didn’t. She only spent five hours in the NICU and ended up being okay, but at the time, we had no idea what was happening. I wasn’t happy about it, but I knew that if I was going to survive the rest of my life without fully breaking down mentally, then I was going to have to learn to take things as they come.

That’s always been quite hard for me. I come from a long line of senseless worriers and so I come about it honestly, and have lived most of my life walking in the ever pacing footsteps of my anxious relatives. But I’ve always wanted it to be different. Deep down I know that the only way to live a life free of deep worry is to open my hands and say “God, even if, you are with me”. Ugh but that is hard. Because how can God really be with us if the worst is happening all around us. If God is good, and just, and loving, then why is there so much pain and suffering? Well I don’t claim to be the theologian in the family but I can tell you that on my best days I believe God is all those things despite the horrors that may unfold around us. I believe that there is more to the story than we will understand. I believe that God mourns with us. But on my darker days, I can’t imagine how any of that make sense. And that’s okay too. Wrestling with these things is crucial, I believe.

But this is what I know without a shadow of a doubt. That even if, for reasons we may never understand, God does not heal your loved one, or prevent that hurricane, or stop that shooting, he is there in it all. When we hear stories of joy and goodness coming out of pain, that is Jesus. That friend who lost a loved one, but feels a strange sense of peace, that is Jesus. It may not always make sense, but we see it, right? We can feel it.

While the questions still remain, I can offer this: Even if, God sees you and is holding you and loves. If you don’t believe it that’s okay, I don’t always believe it either. But I do cling to it, because I’ve experienced it and seen it and choose to believe that it is true.

When your joy has jumped ship.

/in

What a loaded season. For all of the joy and festiveness, there is equally as much pain and sadness. Wounds are that much deeper around the holidays. The loss of loved ones, sickness, mental health struggles, financial struggle, relationship hardship, loneliness. The holidays seem to open the wounds and pour salt directly on them. For many, the holidays are a time of memories and tradition, so when that is lost or doesn’t feel like it used to be, there is much pain.

I’ve experienced both types of holiday. The ones where joy and laughter abound, and the ones where I can’t keep my head above water. But as a general whole, I always feel stressed around the holidays. Expectations are high, and consumerism is rampant, and my heart gets bogged down with it all-trying to find balance, rest, and peace in the midst of it.

What happens when our joy has jumped ship? When we’re trying to find that bubble of wonderment in everything we do but it’s just gone missing? The messages around us are clear-do more, be more, buy more. I wonder what would happened if we moved into the lack of joy. If we didn’t find fear in it or judgment, but just acknowledged its presence. Could we find the bittersweet? That place where pain, joy, and gratitude meet? Could we honor the journey and not wish it was something different?

It’s okay if your joy has jumped ship. In fact, it’s normal. Most of us are faking our way through the holidays in one way or another (and life for that matter). Its just not human to keep it together all of the time. I would even argue that we were created to journey, not just to arrive.

Having joy in every circumstance is a tall order, one that gets a bit misunderstood I think. It’s more than a smile and a warmness in your belly. Joy can be a distant understanding of Gods ultimate goodness, or a fractured memory of a loved on peeping through the darkness. It might not look like you have any joy, but I bet it’s there-looking so much different than the Christmas decorations say it should look. It might be tattered, broken, dusty, dirty-but it’s there!

Your joy hasn’t jumped ship, it’s just in a different package than expected.

Love you guys, wishing you true peace and rest this holiday season and throughout your lives.

**special note. Let us be sensitive and overwhelmed with awareness and empathy for those around us suffering this holiday season.**

The Place That Brought Me Back To Life.

/in ,

I look at this picture, stare straight into the eyes of this woman, and I catch my breath. There was a time I hated the eyes that stared back at me, banged my head against the mirror in agony, shuddered at the thought of my future. My life is not perfect, but there is a strength and a hope that was never there before. I am thankful for my journey. So thankful.

Spring triggers the memory for me. The smell of new rain on the earth, bonfires, the feel of warm sun on my face. The most unlikely of places brought me back to life 12 years ago.

We weren’t really a camping family. Sure, I ran around barefoot all summer and climbed trees like a monkey, but nothing that quite prepared me for this.

I arrived terrified beyond anything I’ve ever felt. The truck bumped along the gravel driveway for over a mile before grinding to a hault next to a brown ranch building. I went in the front door with only the clothes on my back, and came out ready for the next two months of my life. My hiking boots pinched my feet, and the cargo shorts they’d given me clashed terribly with my new yellow t-shirt. I climbed back into the truck, refusing what they called “the last supper”, a Big Mac and fries, before making our way slowly up the mountain to the drop off point.

We stopped at the edge of a thick forest, and the door opened beside me. My driver helped me out of the truck and clipped my pack to my back. Another man was waiting for me by the woods, ready to take me to what was next. I wanted to scream and cling to the bearded man who’d brought me here. I’d only known him for a few hours, but the sound of his truck driving away felt like deep abandonment.

The new man hiked in front of me as I stumbled along behind. My pack was too heavy for my small frame even though it had barely anything inside. By the time we arrived at the campsite, my hips had been rubbed raw.

Little did I know the hardships I’d experience over the next two months; the agony of missing family events, of finding out I would not be going home again, the physical pain I would overcome as I hiked through the Blue Ridge mountains. But deep suffering does something to us doesn’t it? When we are stripped of everything we find something underneath it all. We find grit we didn’t know was there. We find those many wonderful things God gave us as babes that we forgot were even there.

I struggle with suffering. I want it to go away. In fact, I spend much of my life subconsciously trying to avoid it. But when I stop and really consider, suffering is what grounds us. It grounds us to God, ourselves, each other, our humanity. Over the years has come this understanding that for us to fully live as we’ve been created to live, we must experience suffering. Our choice is how we to choose to navigate through the hard.

Trust me.

/in , ,

I’ve been wrestling with anxiety over something I can’t control.

There’s really no statement that better describes my life struggles. It always comes back to this need for the illusion of control, to know the outcome before it happens, to be prepared for every uncomfortable thing.

Anybody else? I hear a chorus of “Amen!” Out there. Because life is a series of events that we don’t see coming and cannot often prepare for. Some of those experiences are breathtakingly beautiful and others are much more difficult, steal our breath away, leave us feeling like the shell of who we thought we were. And while we can often find pieces of beauty in life’s difficulties, it doesn’t always make it that much easier. Maybe for a moment. Maybe we feel a deep peace in the midst of the darkness, but the pain still comes in waves.

So it makes sense that life feels scary at times. I sometimes feel so attacked by the “what-ifs” that I actually freeze for a few moments of time, unable to function for fear of all that could occur.

But recently a still strong voice has followed my anxious thoughts. “Trust me”, it says. I know it to be God’s voice, the certainty is not my own. For no matter how much I stir up on my quest for Jesus. No matter how frustrated I may become with the old traditions and ways of thinking. I believe in a good good God. One who walks with us through this journey of life. I don’t believe he saves us from pain, I think He respects us more than to shield us from heartache. And while it often feels confusing and scary to me to serve a God who allows (as I see it in my limited understanding) the pain of this world; Something deep within in me just knows it all makes sense somehow. “Trust me”, He says. “For the love, just cling to me as the world falls apart all around you, as it all seems so scary and daunting. Feel your feelings, feel your doubts, but somewhere deep inside that wrestling heart of yours, “just trust me”.”

Why We Do Hard Things.

/in , , ,

I’ve wondered for as long as I can remember: Why do we have to endure hard things? Why can’t life be just a little bit fluffier, easier? Is it really necessary to suffer? I don’t presume to have all the answers, but through the years I have realized one thing: hard things are so necessary.

Yesterday Eric, Lilah, and I flew to Florida. No big deal right?

WRONG!

I hate to fly. I hate everything about it: the teetering above the clouds in a metal contraption, being stuck next to strangers in a small space, not being able to move around with ease, tiny cramped bathrooms. I’m a claustrophobic control freak. You do the math. Flying is not for me. And in case you don’t really believe it’s all that bad, I once got out of my seat during take off and demanded that the stewardess land the plane immediately (and no that wasn’t yesterday, I was 16 at the time).

This wasn’t necessarily a trip that I HAD to go on. It was a three day work trip for Eric, so it might seem a little odd that I would want to take my neurotic self and teething 16 month old to tag along. But something inside me knew I had to do it.

I knew it would be really really hard. I knew that I might have a million panic attacks, and maybe barely get through it. I knew it might be miserable. And deep down inside I just wasn’t so sure I could handle it. Especially with a baby. And I’ve been challenging myself to push back against those lies that I won’t make it through hard things. So here we are, in Florida. Yesterday felt like a nightmare, but we did it. We boarded that bare bones, possibly made of tin foil, aviation contraption, and we lived to tell the tale (I’m nothing if not dramatic FYI).

But why the hard stuff, right? Why the pain, the suffering, the adversity? If God was really good, wouldn’t He/She lighten things up a bit? There can’t really be a point to all this madness. Listen, I’m not going to get into the black hole question that is “why is there suffering”. But I think it’s important to note that without suffering we would be empty shells. The hard things are what teach us who we are, and who God is.

Anyone who really knows me knows that I believe in a complete correlation between knowing and loving ourselves, and knowing and loving our God. They work in tandem. And how do we really learn about ourselves and our God? By journeying through life’s ups and downs and realizing that we will make it, that God is with us.

Please hear me, I am not suggesting that this is in anyway easy. As someone who struggles with anxiety, depression, and has been an empath my entire life, I pray daily for “easy”. I still don’t want the hard. But when I take a deep breath and dig down deep, I know that it is the key to so much of what I am searching for in my restless soul.

What can you do today to embrace the hard? Can you let yourself feel sad, heartbroken, disappointed, angry, and still leave your hands open to what it is teaching? Can you take a deep breath and lean in, knowing that it might be the hardest thing, but you can do it. We will be more empathetic, more whole, more in tune with ourselves, more in tune with God and the world around us, because we have chosen to press into the hard.

Much love you on this journey my friends.

When your joy has jumped ship.

/in ,

What a loaded season. For all of the joy and festiveness, there is equally as much pain and sadness. Wounds are that much deeper around the holidays. The loss of loved ones, sickness, mental health struggles, financial struggle, relationship hardship, loneliness. The holidays seem to open the wounds and pour salt directly on them. For many, the holidays are a time of memories and tradition, so when that is lost or doesn’t feel like it used to be, there is much pain.

I’ve experienced both types of holiday. The ones where joy and laughter abound, and the ones where I can’t keep my head above water. But as a general whole, I always feel stressed around the holidays. Expectations are high, and consumerism is rampant, and my heart gets bogged down with it all-trying to find balance, rest, and peace in the midst of it.

What happens when our joy has jumped ship? When we’re trying to find that bubble of wonderment in everything we do but it’s just gone missing? The messages around us are clear-do more, be more, buy more. I wonder what would happened if we moved into the lack of joy. If we didn’t find fear in it or judgment, but just acknowledged its presence. Could we find the bittersweet? That place where pain, joy, and gratitude meet? Could we honor the journey and not wish it was something different?

It’s okay if your joy has jumped ship. In fact, it’s normal. Most of us are faking our way through the holidays in one way or another (and life for that matter). Its just not human to keep it together all of the time. I would even argue that we were created to journey, not just to arrive.

Having joy in every circumstance is a tall order, one that gets a bit misunderstood I think. It’s more than a smile and a warmness in your belly. Joy can be a distant understanding of Gods ultimate goodness, or a fractured memory of a loved on peeping through the darkness. It might not look like you have any joy, but I bet it’s there-looking so much different than the Christmas decorations say it should look. It might be tattered, broken, dusty, dirty-but it’s there!

Your joy hasn’t jumped ship, it’s just in a different package than expected.

Love you guys, wishing you true peace and rest this holiday season and throughout your lives.

**special note. Let us be sensitive and overwhelmed with awareness and empathy for those around us suffering this holiday season.**

When it feels like God screwed you over.

/in ,

I’ve never been able to compartmentalize my feelings to one situation. If someone has wronged me it spills over into our entire relationship until I have properly dealt with it. But until I do, it affects everything. I don’t love that about myself, but I know it’s a part of who I am. It goes hand in hand with being empathetic and sensitive, always asking deep questions and needing the answers.

I know I need God. My head believes in a higher power that looks out for us in ways we can’t comprehend. I believe that there is good in every situation and that angels surround us, stroking our hair when we cry and as the world falls apart around us. But the God in my head and the one In my heart just aren’t the same.

I came to this conclusion a few weeks ago with the help of my therapist. I have been feeling distant from God, craving lots of space from the evangelical normalcies I had grown up with my whole life. I can’t connect to many of the things that the modern church stands for, and yet there’s so much I love as well. Ive realized that there’s a divine being that I know that I need, one I’ve been searching for my whole life, and then there is the God I’ve been hearing about my whole life. And the two are not the same.

As I grow and gain life experience, I am not willing to pretend anymore. I will not accept answers that explain away doubt and fear. I will not settle for another bible verse to stick into every situation. I want way more than that.

But in order to get there, I know I have baggage to resolve with the God of my heart. My past is riddled with painful moments where I don’t believe with my heart God was present. Everything I have learned might tell me that of course He was. But I’m not there. I’m not feeling it. I need to work through the junk standing in my way so that I can cling to the feet of Jesus once again and fully believe that He is with me as has been with me this whole time.

Denying that I feel this way won’t help me. Walking through life submitting to the beliefs of others won’t free me. This is my journey to a deeper relationship with God. A deeper knowing of this higher power who I am sure is much less like the God of the modern church than many of us think.

Are you there? Are you desiring God but unable to fit yourself into the box He’s been put in? Do you need to know it’s okay to rearrange every piece of your faith? Tear it all down people, rebuild brick by brick. Take the time to figure out who God is. Learn to separate that from cultural Christianity and find freedom in the beauty of both. You are not alone. So many of us are doing it. A journey to die to our own selves, and to really be more like Jesus-not who others say He is, but who He actually is.

Happy Tuesday dear friends!

Even if.

/in , ,

I’ve always known I had a choice. I can live in constant fear of the worst happening, or surrender to the fact that I have no control.

This is the lesson that I have been learning my whole life in various ways, but parenthood has really slapped the icing on the cake. Because now there’s this teeny tiny person who relies on me for everything and yet I ultimately have very little control over her life. Yes I make choices that affect her on the day to day, but in the grand scheme of things, her life is out of my hands.

It happened on day one. I had already been wrestling with how my relationship with God might navigate parenthood. Pregnancy had brought with it more anxieties then I had expected. But when Lilah was born she was taken to the NICU. This was it, the moment of deciding what kind of parent I was going to be. Eric and just looked at each other and I said, “I guess this is parenting. We don’t have control of this.” And we didn’t. She only spent five hours in the NICU and ended up being okay, but at the time, we had no idea what was happening. I wasn’t happy about it, but I knew that if I was going to survive the rest of my life without fully breaking down mentally, then I was going to have to learn to take things as they come.

That’s always been quite hard for me. I come from a long line of senseless worriers and so I come about it honestly, and have lived most of my life walking in the ever pacing footsteps of my anxious relatives. But I’ve always wanted it to be different. Deep down I know that the only way to live a life free of deep worry is to open my hands and say “God, even if, you are with me”. Ugh but that is hard. Because how can God really be with us if the worst is happening all around us. If God is good, and just, and loving, then why is there so much pain and suffering? Well I don’t claim to be the theologian in the family but I can tell you that on my best days I believe God is all those things despite the horrors that may unfold around us. I believe that there is more to the story than we will understand. I believe that God mourns with us. But on my darker days, I can’t imagine how any of that make sense. And that’s okay too. Wrestling with these things is crucial, I believe.

But this is what I know without a shadow of a doubt. That even if, for reasons we may never understand, God does not heal your loved one, or prevent that hurricane, or stop that shooting, he is there in it all. When we hear stories of joy and goodness coming out of pain, that is Jesus. That friend who lost a loved one, but feels a strange sense of peace, that is Jesus. It may not always make sense, but we see it, right? We can feel it.

While the questions still remain, I can offer this: Even if, God sees you and is holding you and loves. If you don’t believe it that’s okay, I don’t always believe it either. But I do cling to it, because I’ve experienced it and seen it and choose to believe that it is true.

The thorn in my side.

/in , , , ,

This thorn in my side anchors me to Jesus.

My eyes wander, my heart flutters to other things to fulfill it; but my anxiety, that thorn in my side, it is the most uncomfortable blessing. It keeps me clinging to Jesus because I have no other choice. Even when I’m unsure of my faith, the theology surrounding me, my place on earth-there’s this still small voice experiencing something greater than myself.

When I was a teenager I was sure I wouldn’t live to be 21. In fact, I didn’t want to live to be 21.For someone whose life felt like constant turmoil, It seemed like an absurdly long time to be alive. Childhood trauma had festered into wounds I had no idea how to heal. I was self medicating and limping my way through life. Christianity was a muddle of “dos” and “donts” that I couldn’t keep up with. I felt deserted by the God that was supposed to be with us in our pain. But regardless of it all, I still found myself clinging to Jesus in the recesses of my subconscious, on the off chance that he actually existed and cared. And so it’s been my whole life.

I’m 28. I’ve lived well past my 21st birthday. In many ways I am so different than I was 10 and 15 years ago. But even though I’ve worked through so much emotional pain, I will always be an empath, sensitive to others and the world. Earth will always feel a little unsettling to me. But when I find myself seeking comfort in things that ultimately give me no true joy- like endless shopping, seeking the illusion of perfection, self medicating. I am reminded of the gift that I’m too much of a mess to ever think I can do it on my own. Thankfully. If I didn’t wrestle with daily anxiety, emotional ups and down, chronic OCD and perfectionism, I can’t say I’d cling to God in the same way or be able to acknowledge my need for that relationship regardless of whether or not I am angry at God in that moment.

I’m not in love with Jesus all the time. I ask lots and lots of questions and demand answers from God which may or may not include a few expletives. I am daily confused by modern Christian theology and cannot stand the constant use of Christian buzz words.

I’m just figuring it out. Still navigating through past traumas and shame, still experiencing panic attacks and dark days and lots and lots of messiness. But I do know that whoever God is, whatever he or she is really like. It resonates deeply in my soul. So when nothing else makes sense and I don’t know quite where I belong, I just cling to that.