Tried & True

Sometimes, I sit and ponder my life. Ok, sometimes might be a little bit of an underestimation. 98% of my life is internal processing. Those who know me well are reading this and saying, "Amen." 

Anyways, back to my point.

There are moments when the reality of my position in life just slaps me upside the head. Like... When on earth did I turn 25 (almost 26!), when did I enter the realm of being asked to be a professional reference (that means you're old), and most recently, when did I become ready to get married?

In these moments, my life seems to be in slow motion. It's almost as if it's waiting for me to catch up with reality.

That happens to me a lot.

The present is often a blur and once I'm a few months down the road, my prior circumstance becomes more real… The curse of an extra slow-processor.

Now that I'm almost 26, age 25 has settled in. But as I get thrown overboard from the boat of parental health-insurance, I'm sure the cold waters will quickly awaken me to 26. And rounding up to 30 still doesn't sound too good. I am honored to be asked to be a reference for jobs and school committees that I was once on, but I never thought it would be my turn to help a student's "dream" come true. And though I've got that streak of my mother's independence and adventure-seeking spirit, I've met a man that is far more godly and kind-hearted than I could've dreamt. I am most definitely processing that one, but I praise God that I'm the girl that gets to marry him. 

What's my point? Thought you'd never ask.

No matter how hard, devastating, life-changing, astronomical, exhilarating, or fresh life may be in the moment, I have yet to look back and not understand the purpose God has in it. Our God is a God of order and restoration. Nothing that enters my life will go against that immutable character of His. I've been burdened yet blessed to learn that truth in my younger years.

He's proven Himself to be tried and true. 

Our disposition and character are only possible as a result of His. 1 John 4:19 says, "We love because He first loved us." He enables us to receive, to give, to love, and to follow Him. In myself, I would be so far from Christ. It is only because of His graciousness to me that I have been able to journey through the past 7 years of trial and continue to follow Him. That's not me. That's all Him. 

Don't get me wrong. I totally have my "bad" days. We all do. And that reminds me that I need Jesus. He's God, and I am not.

At almost age 26, I would have never thought I would have been through multiple surgeries, medical tests, or to be forced to leave college and then graduate school – as a result of poor health. But we all get put through the fire. I have just been blessed to be put through the flames earlier on in my life.

Blessed? Yes. Blessed.

Could I have said that a few years ago? Absolutely not. And there are still days where I cannot. And please do not take this as some, “God won’t give you any more than you can handle” speech. Because that’s a common lie circulating Christianity today that could not be more against the truth of the Word of God.

The truth is: He did give me more than I could handle. MUCH MORE than I could handle.

And because of that, I’ve learned to trust Him in ways for which I never would have had need. I know Him in such a deeper way than I would have otherwise. There’s truly nothing sweeter than that. He loved me enough to allow health trials to enter my life so that I could grow through pain and adversity. 

Nothing has entered my life that He not only foresaw but also allowed.

And because I’ve experienced Him to be tried and true, I’ve gained more strength to be a reflection of His faithfulness. I am and have only been able to present myself as tried and true because He has been that for me… abundantly.

My greatest aim is to be faithful to Him even in circumstances that leave me speechless and broken. It’s a confusing thing to watch someone walk through the dark hour of the soul with grace. But that’s the image of someone who has seen and felt Jesus in such a tangible way.

When you encounter the presence and faithfulness of Jesus, it doesn’t leave you the same.

“Great testimonies” of our faith don’t become so over night. They are forged in the fires of sorrow and devastation.

I’ve been tried, and He’s been true. And because He’s true, I pray I continue to remain true to Him.

Treadmills & OJ

I tend to be one to ignore awkward or embarrassing situations. Over the years, I’ve become an expert at acting as if I have zoned out or simply have not recognized that an extremely uncomfortable event has just occurred. Before long, people go back about their business. It’s quite a useful skill.  Unfortunately, now my secret is out of the bag.

Sometimes, though, no matter how carefully I’ve cultivated this “awkwardness avoidance” tactic, embarrassment just gravitates toward me, and it is painfully unavoidable. I’ve debated sharing my most horrifying moment in my almost 25 years of life – all over the blogger sphere. But I decided to take one for the team.

For those who know me well, you know this story just by simply reading the title of my blog. Ironic enough, I am detailing this happenstance from a coffee shop close by the location of this event.

Here goes nothing.

It was Spring Break. I was a junior or senior in high school, and I was in one of my favorite places on earth. Tucson, Arizona. It was a brisk, sunny morning and my Nana and I decided to go to her women’s club to exercise. As a high school athlete, I was all in for that. When we arrived, it was evident that I was by far, the youngest one there. I hopped on a treadmill beside Nana and began to jog. Now before I go any further, I must issue a disclaimer. I grew up with a treadmill that required you to run to make the tread move… None of this automatic craziness. That fact alone should have caused me to think twice before becoming overconfident on this self-propelling machine.

Well, it didn’t take long for disaster to ensue.  Nana was walking and reading beside me. As I always do, I was listening to music to keep me going during my workout. Everything that happened next is a blur. Nana said something or asked me to look at something in her magazine, and without a second thought, I took my eyes off the view in front of me and turned my head. BIG mistake. My equilibrium isn’t the best, so I quickly lost my balance and began to fly off the back of the treadmill. Thankfully, my ninja-like reflexes allowed me to catch myself just before I flew completely off the back and into the wall of mirrors behind me. Yes. A wall of mirrors was behind me. Which meant the whole occupancy of the women’s workout club just saw this athletic teen about breathe her last. “Death by treadmill”… what a lame way to go.

I happened to grab the rail but my shin had already struck the tread and blood was everywhere (sorry for those with weak stomachs). As you can imagine any grandmother’s reaction, Nana wanted me to immediately stop and tend to the tennis ball size gash in my leg. I was almost at the mile-mark, however, and refused to stop. So I finished my run and limped to the locker room. I could hardly walk for the following week. I will forever have the scar on my shin. You can still see where the black pieces of tread had been embedded into my leg from the blow of my little tumble.

It made for a good story at the lunch table after Spring Break that year.

Some still tease me. If I had a dollar for every time a friend has sent me a YouTube video of someone flying off a treadmill, I would be well-off. I’ve never been a runner, but I am definitely not a fan of treadmills now. I vowed to myself that I would stay away from those dangerous machines from that point on.

The past year and a half of my life, however, has required me to face my rational fear and climb onto a treadmill many times. In September of 2013, I began experiencing odd symptoms that I still struggle to describe. Those with POTS, a disorder of the autonomic nervous system (ANS), understand my inability to put the unique sensations into words. I began to have moments of great fatigue, like I had hit a wall. I couldn’t stand up without my heart racing. I knew I wasn’t in the best shape, but I wasn’t that out of shape. I began to have moments where I could not focus on what was being said to me. I was in graduate school and spent much time doodling in class because I became unable to look at my professor and retain what he said simultaneously. I blacked-out often, and there was no pattern to any of it. After 7 months and 3 trips to Cleveland Clinic, I was finally diagnosed with POTS, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. Looking back on all those crazy moments I felt and experienced, it all makes sense now. My blood pressure had often crashed dangerously low… something like 70/40. Chaos in my body followed as a result.

As a result of this diagnosis, I have been on a journey for the past year to strengthen my heart and retrain my autonomic nervous system. The ANS is in charge of controlling all involuntary processes of the body such as breathing, circulation, heartbeat, etc. There is nothing wrong with my heart anatomically, but the “brain” of my heart has forgotten how to work properly. Henceforth, I’ve spent much time with cardiac exercise to remind it how to function as it should, once more.

I am thankful to say that a year and a half later, my heart is much stronger and my symptoms have greatly lessened. I am now in the maintenance phase, and as long as I continue to keep my heart strong, POTS is mostly manageable.

I have now graduated to the elliptical for workouts, but I had to get through the “treadmill phase” to get there. The cardiac rehabilitation unit at Parkview Regional Medical Center became a familiar place for me for about 6 months in 2014. Because my BP could get dangerously low, I needed to be monitored as I began to strengthen my heart.

This meant that I spent 3 and eventually 4 and 5 days a week in a hospital unit where 65 years of age was the average for a patient. I was by far the youngest one on the whole unit. I had a few ask if I was in the wrong unit (even after seeing me around for a month) and was asked numerous times if I had experienced a heart attack. It wasn’t exactly what I had planned for my 24^th year of life. That was definitely an experience I never would’ve guessed would be a part of my story.

I also struggle with my blood sugar and because of this, I drank a lunchroom-esque container of OJ before I began each workout. It seemed to make all the difference. After weeks of treadmill work while watching the Samaritan helicopters land on the neighboring roof, I had a moment of epiphany. As I was briskly walking (seemingly up a mountain with the crazy incline), I couldn’t help but remember my first dreadful treadmill experience.

And it hit me.

It wasn’t as if I lacked the coordination to maintain exercise on a treadmill. That’s not why I about flew off to my death. It was because I took my eyes off my target in front of me. I had lost sight of my goal. I became overconfident. I would’ve been just dandy had I not shifted my gaze.

I paid for those few brief moments of looking away.

But isn’t that how it goes? It doesn’t take long for our lack of focus to cause us to fall hard. We get so comfortable in our walk (or run) that we let down our guards.

We become “treadmill pros” in our own hearts and minds.

When in reality, we are no such experts. It is our focus and intentionality in our walk with Christ, friendships, families, and any aspirations and goals we may have, that get us anywhere.

Good intentions do not come close to replacing hard work, sacrifice, and perseverance. 

Intent may be good, but it doesn’t do the legwork for us. Good intent can be dangerous if it tricks us into believing we have done all we can to strive for excellence in life.

Because at the end of the day, simply looking at a treadmill doesn’t magically put miles of sweat into it.

Philippians 3:12-14 ESV states,

“Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me His own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

That passage is jam-packed with active pursuit, focus, and determination. Paul states that he will “press on” to receive the blessing that comes when one “shares His [Christ’s] sufferings, becoming like Him [Christ] in His death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead” [v. 10].

Paul also makes up his mind that he will forget what lies in the past and will strain toward what’s ahead of him. “Straining” implies that adversity is present. Whether internally or externally, and more often than not—both—as followers of Christ, we must push forward through the blood, sweat, and tears to win the Ultimate Prize—Christ Himself.

If you have yet to encounter adversity in this life, spoiler alert… it’s coming. We are not called to a life of ease. We are called to push through countless hardships and heartbreaks to see the face of Jesus. To do our absolute best to ensure that others see the face of Jesus as a result of coming into contact with you and I.

Who knew a cold cup of OJ and simply keeping my gaze fixed straight ahead—keeping my head and heart in the zone—would be the key to not only keeping myself on the treadmill but also to keeping my dizziness at bay. I know that in large part, I can attribute much of my success to those two aspects of my approach.

In a world full of pain and struggle, this Great Race cannot be won unless one is running in such a way as to win it.

Which begs the question… Are you running to win?

Q & A

I was that child that always… and I mean, always, asked the infamous question. It is often found coming out of the mouths of toddlers… but I have carried the question throughout my entire life.

Why?

I’m not sure that I inquired as to why the sky was blue or why the grass was green. Those questions didn’t seem worth my time or investigation. Instead, I wanted to know why bad things happened or why hard work did not always pay off. I’m sure my parents were exhausted by the end of the day.

As I grew older, this questioning transitioned into arguing my point. If my parents’ reasoning was illogical, they were going to hear it. “Because I said so” was not an acceptable response for me. Junior high was a bit rocky… especially as I began to think abstractly about life and how things work.

My parents were certain that I would be an attorney… or that my unceasing questioning should at least somehow be put to use. They were so patient with me. Looking back, I think they humored me more than I realized at the time. I’m sure someday, I’ll be on the receiving end of all the questions, and I’ll just smile and brace myself for some interesting years of parenting. And when all else fails, I’ll just ship the little “questioners” off to the grandparents.

This past year, however, I’m discovering that there are many questions I have failed to voice.

At age 24, I think I have some much overdue questions to ask.

Although I was reared within the church—and praise Jesus for that—I am not sure I was ever taught that it was valid and beneficial to pose my favorite inquiry to God.

It was almost as if the question “why?” was directly tied to doubt. And doubt was bad. So although everyone around me was receiving my question, God was not.

But as I’ve experienced the muck and mire that comes along with living on this planet, I have learned that it is impossible to go throughout life without asking God some tough questions.

And furthermore, I’m finding that maybe God has been waiting for me to ask Him about the hard stuff. But instead, I’ve often tried to find my own answers… as if my questions were not worthy of His attention. Maybe I was just supposed to take Him at His Word, and never wonder beyond that.

But I’m not sure that mindset allows for much of a relationship.

I have a handful of close friendships, but none of those relationships were built without inquiry and investment. Our knowledge of and interaction with others is only as deep as we choose to dig. If we never asked each other “why?”—our relationships would be pretty lacking.

One of my biggest struggles is small talk. I can only do it for so long before I want to vomit. That’s a pretty strong dislike, I know. The first month of college was rough… every conversation consisted of “What’s your name and major?” and that was about it. I remember thinking to myself that if this is what it looked like to start over in friendships, I didn’t want any part of it.

Eventually, some of those small talks led to incredible conversations and later, great friendships that God has used to immensely mold and shape my life.

But at some point, there had to be a transition in conversation.

Sometimes, I think I’ve missed that transition in my relationship with God.

I know the facts.

I can recite Scripture up and down.

I know how to pray.

But what I’m finding I’ve often missed is the act of diving deeper into the heart of God.

After all, isn’t that what our questioning does?

It creates an opportunity for us to delve deeper into our relationships. To refuse to settle for small talk and superficial nonsense.

What if God has simply been waiting for me to ask Him some difficult things?

What if He’s been waiting for me to pursue His heart for me? To pursue His heart for the world?

Questioning another demonstrates a desire to take interest in his or her life, thoughts, and dreams.

I think I’ve missed out.

I was recently told that God doesn’t fear our questioning. And actually, questioning in and of itself is not unbelief. Rather, it demonstrates desire to better understand.

And understanding leads to deeper relationships.

I may not always get a black and white answer (I love those), but at least I’ve asked right?

At least then I’ve done my part to build a relationship with God.

A relationship that consists of depth and trust because I’ve taken time to ask Him the hard stuff.

And although I may not always get answers to my questions, I will learn more about the character of my God and get a deeper look into His heart.

And just maybe, the answers I need aren’t really answers at all.

Maybe I just need to open up a deeper conversation with the God Who created my heart and knows it best.

And I would say that’s worth it.

I think it’s time I get back to the art of asking, “Why?”

TRAN[sit]ION

This word is probably my least favorite word in the entire English vernacular. I don't know why. Maybe because I have never understood how to go through this life without getting attached. To people. To places. To phases. And why not? There's a fine balance to be found for one who is not promised tomorrow. 

And that sums up us all.

So why not dive in deeply to the place and hold on tightly to the people who surround us? Why not invest all we have today in order that we may arrive (or not) at tomorrow, leaving the soil around us a richer ground?

But unfortunately, it isn't that simple. 

The problem is this: The ground beneath can shift at any time at all.

No warning signs.

We are torn from the familiar and wonder what happened to the "comforts of yesterday." We try to keep up with the winds of change as we gasp for breath.

"If only life would just stop… just for a moment." I can't keep track of all the moments I have uttered that very phrase. Only if… then we could reconfigure our footing and stand strong once more.

But... what if we just sat down?

What if we just began to sit in the midst of the chaos roaring around us?

It hit me the other day that right smack dab in the middle of "transition" is the word "sit."

Now bear with me. I know it's a stretch.

But what if?

What if we began to just rest and allow our hearts to slow in the process of seemingly constant change? What would life look like?

Now if you're anything like me, you struggle to even wrap your mind around this concept of truly resting--in general… Nonetheless in the center of a swirling vortex of change.

Fair enough.

But hear me out.

Change reminds us that we are not in control. At all. We live with a strikingly false illusion of control. Even in the midst of the utmost mundane in life--we are not the least bit in charge.

Sorry if that rattles your cage.

I know that my world has been shaken by that concept the past few years.

Back to sitting.

I like to remain relatively active but sometimes I challenge myself to simply sit. To take it all in. As my mom says, we all need to take time to "smell the roses." I'm not a pro at that concept, but I'm working on it. And that's what counts, right?

When we are stationary, our vision is able to become more focused. I'm in a season of "blurred vision." Big time. And I can't wait for it to end! But despite my blurry vision, God has begun to enlighten my eyes to not only my stark "smallness" in light of His glory… But also to clarity I would have missed had I not decided to sit in the midst of some pretty drastic storms.

Transition forces us to move forward. It cuts out the possibility of stagnation--the very thing I fear most. Because as much as I despise the challenges that ride on the coat tails of transition, I fear apathy and mediocrity much more so.

As I write this, it is a tough pill to swallow… because I am sensing another round of transition approaching. And I'm going to be stretched and prodded a bit. But what a great reminder of my frailty! What an opportunity to draw closer to the One who IS in control of my every breath. My every heart beat.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a fan of transition. Much less, choosing to sit in the midst of it.

But it's going to occur either way.

What if I chose to soak in the value it can bring to my heart and mind rather than trying to escape it as quickly as humanly possible?

Because I don't believe God purposes change or transition to make us miserable… but rather to prepare us for future Kingdom work that presently--in the state in which we are--we are not yet best equipped to do.

That's a game-changer for me. It lightens the load and eases the pain of the sudden impact.

So what do you say?

Care to take a seat?

| In-Between |

I'm the very definition of Type A. It's in my blood. The very fiber of my being. Not sure what all that encompasses exactly... but I do know that it takes more discipline for me to rest than it does to work hard. And I've always thought that was a positive trait of mine. I am a "Workman" after all.

But I don't think it's completely beneficial. Actually, I know it's not. You know it's a problem when you moved to college and your parents called you... just to make sure you were having fun. Yes, you read that correctly. My parents have never once asked if I have completed all my tasks. That's just a no-brainer. They called to make sure I left the library every now and then.

But what happens when you are forced to start spinning one too many plates? Or when you're forced to stand in the midst of an awkward season and have no idea when that season will end? Like living in your parents' basement at age 23 (which I completely understand is normal in this day in age... just not my preference!) and there is no light at the end of the tunnel... or at least, that's how it seems.

Type A can't really fix things like that. I mean, technically, yes. I understand that I'm fully capable of moving out and moving on. But for some reason, as of this exact moment, it's just not time.

I have found myself (once again) in the midst of the vast In-Between. I'm just gonna be honest. I don't like being caught in the In-Between. It's not fun. It complicates my plans and ruins what I think is best for my life.

But the truth is... I don't know what's best for my life.

The "secret" is out. I have NO IDEA.

I thought maybe entering my 20s would shed some light on how to escape this uncomfortably awkward world of In-Between... but it just became more awkward. Really didn't think that was possible. Type A! You're failing me! Big time.

But let's be real. You can be Type Q, R, or S and still find yourself caught in the Battle of In-Between.

Ecclesiastes says that "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven..." (Ecclesiastes 3:1, ESV).

So it's inevitable. At some point in life, whether we've experienced it yet or not, we will find ourselves stuck between Point A and Point B.

But what if we aren't really stuck?

What if the very purpose of the In-Between is to better prepare us for Point B?

"Well, since you say it that way..." you might be thinking. Hear me out.

First, let me be real.

I'm great at waiting... when it comes to waiting in the grocery line. Or waiting for a package to arrive. Or waiting for Christmas. Or waiting for my birthday.

What I struggle with... is living in this place called In-Between. I'm not so great at that. And for the 23 years I've been blessed to breathe, I've spent much time in this place.

And as I've thought extensively about this place in which I seem to always be, I couldn't help but reflect on Hebrews 11. Talk about people who lived the In-Between. Their whole lives were spent there!

And then it hits me.

Maybe the entirety of our lives will be spent there too.

That's a 2x4 to the face, isn't it?

What if Point B doesn't exist on this side of Heaven? 

I'm starting to realize that it doesn't.

"The Hall of Faith" (Hebrews 11) expounds on this thought. I'll show you what I mean...

"By faith, Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God." (Hebrews 11:8-10, ESV)

"These all (Abraham and others) died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared them for a city." (Hebrews 11:13-16, ESV).

"And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect." (Hebrews 11:39-40, ESV).

[In order to get the full picture of the power of these verses, I encourage you to check out the whole chapter of Hebrews 11.] 

It's obvious that part of our journey as followers of Jesus is learning to steward the In-Between. Because until we see Jesus face to face, we won't reach Point B. The Ultimate Point B, I should say. We will reach many Point Bs throughout our lifetimes. I will eventually find myself moving out of my parents' basement. I will survive graduate school. And praise God for those little Point Bs along the way!

So I've come to find... the In-Between isn't a season of earthly terms. It isn't like Spring, Summer, Fall, or Winter.

The In-Between lasts until we take our final breath.

Only then will we breathe in Point B.

So the question becomes: What do we do with the In-Between?

We breathe it in deep. We soak it in for all it's worth. We make the most of the time God has given us between Point A and Point B.

Because In-Between is getting us ready for the Ultimate Destination.

I think most of the battle is just accepting the fact that our In-Betweens don't look the same.

But that's ok.

Because someday, we will share in the Ultimate Joy of Point B...

Together.

And realize that the In-Between was a treasure... all along.

under PRESSURE.

It's interesting to me how the application of pressure to any simple entity can completely transform that object. The degree of which an object changes form as a result of applied pressure provides a lucid demonstration of that object's strength or malleability. For example, if a car crosses paths with a banana, the car will obviously win that face-off. It will splatter that soft source of potassium into oblivion. But if a grand piano fell from the sky, that car would greatly resemble the banana.

Following me?

Well, I sit here PRAISING GOD that it's August 1. July 2013 was a bear of a month for me. Amongst studying for my graduate school entrance exam, working full time, financial decisions, and other changes, I feel like I've been running a marathon. Really, my life has been extra crazy since the beginning of April but for some reason, July just brought the pressure and turned up the heat (both literally and figuratively).

July made me feel like that unfortunate banana lying in the path of that overbearing car. And it hurt. Big time. There were moments that I felt the pressure like never before in my short 23 years of life. And if I'm being real, panic attacks were even a part of that picture. And the thing is, I knew the truth. I knew that God has been faithful to me in MIGHTY ways. In ways that have left me speechless. The past 5 years of my life scream of His sovereignty and faithfulness. So honestly, the magnitude of which I struggled this past month made me angry.

Some people are great under pressure. In fact, some shine in the midst of pressure. I am not sure I would place myself in that category. Actually, I know that I wouldn't. My brain needs time to think and process. Sudden pressure does NOT go over well with me. Just isn't my strong suite. But give me all the time in the world to prepare, and I'm set.

That's the problem.

Life doesn't give you time to prepare. It comes at you like a 90mph fast ball.

I've learned a LOT from that fast ball the past few months.

Which leads me back to that banana. It doesn't take long at all for one to recognize that a banana is not at all obdurate when it meets that car tire. In fact, it splatters everywhere. That pressure reveals what that banana is made of in an instant.

Life is the same way. One day while washing dishes for a good 3 hours at work (where most of my writing inspiration was gathered), it hit me. The marathon I was thrown into was revealing that of which I am made. I was seeing who I am at the very core of my being.

Wow. Talk about a wake up call.

More importantly, I was being provided with a harsh reality of what it is I truly believe about my God and His character. I'm good to go until that car approaches and I'm lying helpless in the wake of it's magnitude.

The pressure was forcing my insides... out.

It's easy to trust Jesus when I can see that my path is clear and without obstacles.

But those moments that shine light on that which lies within us... that prove what we believe to be true in the midst of the storm... Those are the moments that sincerely display what or in whom our trust lies.

And despite the fact we are often greatly unprepared for those moments, those are the moments that matter most.

Looking back over this past month especially, I can easily see the pieces of my heart that struggle to trust Jesus. The parts that, when under pressure, don't exemplify what I know to be true of my God. But you know what? I'm not sure I would have seen those parts of my heart unless it had been broken this past month... over and over again.

So I can reflect and thank God for bringing that "car" my way. After all, I know Him better now. But most importantly, I know that whether I'm crushed or whole, He is the SAME yesterday, today, and for all eternity (Hebrews 13:8, ESV).

Who are you... rather, to Whom do you cling... under pressure?

__FOUNDATIONS__

Ok, so I have a confession to make.

I've never built a sandcastle.

... Ever.

And I've been to the beach... several times.

Some may say that my childhood was robbed. I could potentially agree with that. However, burying my younger brother in the sand seemed like a much better use of my precious time in the sun and surf. And I'm sure he had earned it in some way. But I buried him in love... of course.

I have, however, contemplated over the years as I've seen many attempt to make such structures in the sand. Yep. I was (and still am) that kid on the beach that sat quietly, watched the sea gulls, observed other kids, and thought about the logistics of the faulty designs constructed... that would surely just lead to each castle's demise when swept up with the next tide. An overly-analytical perfectionist of a child.

That was me.

So I guess it would've taken me too long to build a proper sandcastle anyway.

Foundations are kind of important. And by "kind of," I mean that they are irreplaceable. Most children (who know what it means to be imaginative at least) do not spend time considering the laws of physics or the importance of placing an appropriate foundation before building their fairytale-esque creations in the sand.

But then again, sand never made a strong foundation to begin with.

In Luke 6, Jesus talks a little bit about foundations... and how His words are to be the bedrock of our lives. He says,

"Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and not do what I tell you? Everyone who comes to Me and hears My words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock..." [Luke 6: 46-48a]

Basically, Jesus is saying... His words cannot merely be an addition to our lives.

No. In fact, nothing can even be added without a foundation. A true Foundation.

"...And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built." [Luke 6:48b]

These words of Jesus are not simply a gentle request for us to make sure our lives are built on Him. He knows that the result of anything less than a foundation built on Him, the Only Rock, is pure devastation.

You see, just like at the beach, storms come in life. Sometimes without a warning. But even with fair caution and time to prepare, storms have the power to destroy much.

Jesus continues...

"But the one who hears [My words] and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great." [Luke 6:49]

If you told someone that you were going to build your house without a foundation, they would (if they had any sense at all) tell you that you were out of your mind. That it isn't possible.

And they would be right.

Because anything built will have a foundation... By default.

What that foundation consists of, is the question.

The Message paraphrases Luke 6 in an interesting way. I love the phraseology it uses... It refers to the words of Jesus as "foundation words, words to build a life on."

Just as you cannot skip the foundation when you are building a house... So it is with the Christian life!

I've heard the words of Jesus since I was... well, born actually. And what a blessing that is! But let me be honest with you. Merely hearing the words of Jesus does nothing.

Because the words of Jesus weren't meant solely for hearing. They were meant to be THE FOUNDATION of our lives!

And this Foundation must be BUILT.

Built.

That's the key word. An action verb, in fact.

It takes work. Effort. Blood. Sweat. And at times, tears.

This Foundation won't just spring up from the ground! Sometimes though, I think we, as followers of Christ, live like we think that is the case.

And it surely... is not.

We must be actively laying down the truth of Jesus' words... On a DAILY basis.

So that when the storms come... And they will come...

We stand STRONG.

Not because of our own strength.

But because, our Foundation is the Rock of Ages Himself.

And no storm can bring that Foundation to the ground.

limp [no more].

Have you ever landed wrongly? If you have, you'll get what I'm talking about. That sharp pain that immediately shoots through your whole leg? Yep, it's definitely not on my list of Top 5 most pleasant things.

But the thing is... That pain can result from not only landing wrongly, but also from standing up under pressure.

Life has its way of knocking you down. Knocking the wind out of you. Giving you a low blow.

And the thing I've come to find, is that it's the moments we least expect in which we experience that "shooting pain." It sure can catch you off guard. Maybe that's what is most painful about the whole thing. The lack of ability to prepare for the pain. For the heart ache. For the lack of mobility... at least temporarily.

Sometimes, we just have to get up and begin walking. Take that crazy risk. Jump off that "cliff" so to speak... Whatever that may look like.

It's almost as if we need to prove to ourselves that we don't have to limp any more. That we actually remember how to walk... Without that limp of which we've become so accustomed. And sometimes, even has become comfortable.

What better way than to stand up (despite the struggle that may result) and walk? Even if that means dreadfully stumbling with those first few steps?

There's such power in that.

Trust me, I've felt it before.

But it's not just a one-time thing.

Limping can become a way of life. It's like we forget how to walk freely... Much less, live fully.

We begin to think that we were made with a limp. To stumble through each day with - what can seem - to be a lack of purpose. Lack of identity. Lack of hope. But this could be no further from the truth!

NO! We WON'T limp our entire lives... Jesus makes the lame to WALK! With boldness. With gumption. With PURPOSE. He says "Get up and walk!" [Matthew 9:6] And you know what happens? We GET UP.

But don't miss this.

We have the strength to get up only because of and through HIS power.

And you know what else?

We get up...

Completely healed.

Because we were made to stand up. To walk. And even...

To run.

And eventually, the limping will be no more.

c|h|a|p|t|e|r|s.

I'm not an avid reader of fiction. My brother has always told me it's because "I have no imagination." Maybe that's partially true. Ok, so maybe it's very true. I struggle to picture a world that isn't reality. Books are "black and white" for a reason right? Literally. Well, that's my 2 cents.

Nevertheless, I'll give the fiction genre this prop - each chapter builds on the one before it.

I simply love that.

Although it seems as though a character has left the story, he or she is there nevertheless. The essence. The footprints. The impact. The story, where it is presently, cannot exist without the presence of that particular character at one point in time.

But this is what I hate. One chapter cannot begin without the ending of another. That's the part that breaks my heart. Shatters it actually... If I'm being completely honest.

There are just some characters that are meant to play a small role in the story. But this is not the case for every character. That gives me hope... Not to mention, gives me the desire to keep reading.

The best type of books (and the only type of fiction books I occasionally read) are those of which the ending is not predictable.

The story may seem never-ending. All hope may appear lost. But the greatest books are those of which you read the last page and are left in awe.

Sheer amazement.

Those books of which you can look back on prior chapters and see that the ending was really clear all along...

You just had to experience every page to see it.

Life is very much the same way.

I'm only 22. That sounds old to me. Yes, yes, I know. I'm not old. Technically, I'm still considered to be in that wonderful "young adult" category. But to be real, there are parts of my life I can't really recall clearly. Sure, some of that time forgotten was before my brain was fully developed and my capacity for memory was truly existent. Most of those times, however, are just simply a blur. Like my first day of junior high or my first date. You'd think I'd remember those moments... But nope, I don't. Don't ask me why. I guess I only remember the "important" things in life.

Although... The one thing I never forget (even if I try) are those "characters" that walk in... and sometimes out, of my life. Like I said, the characters make the story what it is. After all, you could argue that without additional characters, you have no story.

Because part of living your story is colliding with others along your way. Along your journey.

The impact waits in the collision. The thing about collisions is that they stick with you. Sometimes literally. Sore muscles, broken bones. But more often, these collisions result in overflowing hearts and freed minds.

The Author of the book called Life planned the contents of each page. Every event. Every character. Every struggle. Every victory. All culminating to the words on that last page... Whenever it may be written.

We may not be able to choose every character who enters our stories. If you haven't figured it out yet, you're not in control of your life. Sorry if I just let the "cat out of the bag" on that one. Better sooner rather than later, right? However. We can decide with whom we will collide. Those whom we will allow to become a "leading role" in our stories. Slowly but surely, chapter by chapter.

That's why it is never fulfilling to skip to the ending of a book.

Because the joy is in the journey.

You cannot experience the joy of the completion without truly and fully understanding the blood, sweat, and tears... and the love, life, and determination it took to get to that last page. Last paragraph. Last sentence. Last word.

There is no ending without first, a beginning.

Nor is there an ending without the middle.

The secret lies in embracing each and every chapter along the way.

aLIVE.

Sometimes we just need to be recharged. We lose energy. It's all been drained. Used up. Our "battery life" quickly falls from "green" to "red" in a matter of moments. The energizer bunny is no longer beating his drum.

If the heart is beating, there is life within. Nevertheless, we can reach the point of having no interest. No passion. Apathy and indifference set up camp in the deepest parts of our souls. Or maybe it's just a feeling of defeat.

At times, the heart even seemingly stops beating altogether. We quickly forget what it is for which (or for Whom) we're living... Or forget that we are even alive at all.

There is something about hearing another's heartbeat that is inspiring. We can so easily forget this distinct and irreplaceable "sound of life." But when we hear it, something begins to awaken within us. There is no other sound like it. We so often struggle with the issue of purpose... But why is it that we have an unmistakable feeling of desire and urgency to help those who cannot help themselves? It doesn't take much for a fire to be set aflame within our spirits. We are driven towards justice and compassion. There it is... look closely, that is called...

Purpose.

That strong, deep passion to reach out and get beyond ourselves.

Maybe that's our problem. Our focus on our "quest for purpose" keeps our eyes fixed greatly on "me, myself, and I"... when really, our purpose is waiting in the eyes of those who are burdened and hurting.

Our heartbeats awaken one another.

To newfound purpose. To forgotten dreams. To a place of openness. Trust. Brokenness. Transparency.

And... Dependence.

But this is a unique form of dependence. This dependence bears its roots in broken soil. You see, soil must be broken, or stirred up, in order for life to be planted... or replanted.

As the Body of Christ, we are called to be "one in spirit" (Philippians 1:26-28, ESV). I have always understood that concept... Yet, I had not had the opportunity, until recently, to truly experience the miracle of unity of spirit, heart, and purpose. There is a reason, a vital reason, why Jesus stated that unity was and is essential. He knew that there would be times when our heartbeats would slow... and even become so soft, that we would no longer be able to hear the precious sound... at least, on our own.

That's where the unity comes in.

Because although we sometimes forget the sound of our own heartbeats, they are not silent.

They simply just need someone--anyone--to take the time to hear them. To listen intently for any sign of life.

Because it's there.

God is never early and never late. He knows full well when our hearts will be ready for awakening and who it is that He can and will use to "jump start" our flat-lining spirits. Sometimes, we just aren't quite ready to "wake up." Our hearts become comfortable. Stuck in the comfort zones of apathy and complacency... Surrounded by the walls of distance and self-protection. We tell ourselves that we will never be in a position to hurt... or to feel ever again. But what we don't realize is this...

Unless one truly feels, he cannot truly live. And he definitely cannot live to his fullest potential... as God intended for him to live (John 10:10, ESV).

Abundantly alive.

And so eventually, our hearts begin to beat as one. If that isn't a display of unity through the power of the Holy Spirit, I'm not sure what is.

When our hearts beat together, it's a beautiful sound.

So answer me this:

Are you truly and sincerely...

Alive?

♥ ♫

flat land.

What is it about flat land? Why is it that "flat" journeys are attractive to the human heart? Is it the ease? The lack of stress? The fact that no "muscle" is needed? Anyone can walk a smoothly paved road.

But what if we weren't created to walk flat terrain? There is something about the human heart that yearns for adventure... wonders if there is something more. More than simply picking ones feet up... over and over again.

You see, we often think we accomplish more or travel further as a result of the effortless landscape. But we instead, become numb... Complacent. We get "lulled to sleep" by the repeated motion of our simplistic steps.

Have you ever stopped to think that the heart longs for a struggle of sorts? A challenge? I firmly believe that is true. But our hearts are innately infused with a desire to excel. To succeed. To reach our utmost potential. And because of our brokenness, we think we need to settle to reach that success, whatever that success might be. But settling never got anyone to the top of Mount Everest.

The view after climbing a mountain is irreplaceable. Trust me. This past March, I experienced the biggest workout of my life as I climbed to Romero Pools in Tucson, Arizona. The views, however, were worth it all. Don't get me wrong, there were definitely times I wanted to turn back. After all, this Indiana girl is not accustomed to the drastic incline of the Southwest. But every time I had the desire to return to the flat, desert land, I would simply stop and take time to view the horizon. You can't see a view like that without some sort of struggle or effort (unless you own your own private plane). But that's besides the point.

With that said, mountains cannot exist without the presence of valleys. It's impossible. At some point, you have to come down. Experience the "lows" of life. For those who know me even slightly, you know I am not a fan of emotional roller coasters. But life is not a "walk in the park"... nor is it a stroll down the lane. We are hit with reality... with moments when we discover our view is no longer thrilling... but rather, mundane and lacking luster.

But obviously, we must, and will encounter both. The highest peaks and the deepest valleys alike. Lessons learned in the valleys are not the same as those learned on the mountain top. Nor are they purposed to be. The uneven terrain is a paradox. The unevenness is necessary to keep us "grounded." It keeps us looking ahead, and behind, with the proper perspective.

When arriving in the valley, one can look behind and see the peak from which he came... while also knowing that he can face the peak that lies ahead. I think we have to face a peak, before we can begin to understand the strength of Christ in our weak, and sometimes lazy, legs. To awaken the knowledge that is is He that is ordering each and every step. That even the most mundane steps... as well as the most trying treads, can be overflowing with purpose.

I've climbed some mountains the past few years... both literally and figuratively speaking. I've journeyed through some valleys as well. And if I'm speaking honestly, I've been worn out countless times. My legs have felt like jello. But that "jello feeling" only lasts for so long.

We were created to adapt. To thrive.

Although the journey is often trying and tragic, the heart has an opportunity to soak in some crazy views... from both high and low standings.

My memory has been flooded with some incredible scenery. The journey was not and is not always pleasant. But at least I'm not walking comatose through this life. Because when you consider the views to be seen, that would just be a shame.

All I know is this...

I was not created for flat land.

4 Years Later...

You may have noticed that I have added a handful of blogs in one day... I did not go on a blogging rampage! These "new blogs" were written from 2008-2010 before I began a blog. Wanted to have all my writings in one place! They are dated as to when I wrote them... but start reading from the bottom of my blog and scroll up! 

Nothing is more humbling than looking back on your life and seeing how far God has brought you. Take a read if you wish... Thanks for continuing to walk with me on this journey!

Dwell.

July 31, 2010

Have you ever slammed on the brakes? There's not too many things that gets your attention as quickly and effectively as having to suddenly try your hardest to avoid becoming part of a giant pile up on the free way. But I've also noticed something else after briskly implementing the use of that very vital part of a vehicle. The speed at which I was once traveling becomes quite apparent. So often on the interstate I find myself wanting to go faster. Why is that? I'm already going 70+ mph. Isn't that fast enough? But after thinking about it for quite some time now, I'm discovering that it stems from a deeper issue...something programmed deep within my heart.

Dwelling is not an easy task. To dwell causes one to have to stop. To cease any and all courses of action. To stop analyzing, planning, running, hiding, and striving. Striving. Now there's a word that I have come to know quite well. Dwelling simply requires one to wait...and rest. Not strive. I think that's the hardest part...striving is second nature to me. Twenty years of practice has pretty much cemented that in this stubborn brain of mine.

But that's just it. The more I continue to seek the heart of my God, the more I recognize how wrong I've been for so long. God never asked me to strive. To put on a "I've got it all together" show. Who am I fooling anyway? Certainly not Him. Rather, He invites me to cease. That sort of leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Kind of like that cheap-o coffee you get at that last resort gas station (there's not too many things I despise more than that). But why? Why is it that the very thing I was truly made to do leaves me miserable, feeling like I've missed the mark? Maybe because my heart has majorly missed the true source of satisfaction. Not the kind of satisfaction that comes from the completion of a task (although I do very much enjoy that sensation). But the immense joy and peace that comes from the difficult, yet worthwhile recognition of my own incapability. That my life is not within my control. Ugh. A part of my Type A mentality dies every time I utter those painful yet freeing words...

As I was spending time with the Lord the other day, I turned to one of my favorite passages. As I began to read Psalm 27, I pleaded with the Lord to bring something new to light within the chapter, to teach me something fresh from His Word. Praise Jesus that He always, always, always answers that prayer with a resounding "Yes, I will!". But as I continued to read, I kept getting distracted...so it took a few times for me to get hit with a simple, yet mind-blowing truth from the life of David. David got it. The first couple verses relay the truth of the sovereignty and goodness of our God while also retelling the troubles (and current trials) of David's life. But then you get to verse 4. This is my favorite part. And that's when it hit me like a crisp, October breeze in Indiana. Even after all that David weathered in his life, he uncovered the secret.

[v.4] of Psalm 27 says: "One thing I ask of the LORD, THIS is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek Him in His temple."

Wow. David blows me away. He knew that life throws its fair share of junk at us. He didn't live under the illusion that this life is a walk in the park. He knew better than to be that naive. He certainly had the experiences to back that up. But David did know what to do in the midst of his storms...dwell.

My mind and heart are in constant combat. What my heart truly (and was created) to desire is the very thing my mind fights to believe...that surrender is stronger than striving. Surrender is freedom. Paradoxical? Most definitely. Yet, I am finding that it is the key.

OK, so back to the whole dwelling gig. David understood the secret within the storm. That to dwell was safer than to strive. That his (maybe innocent) strivings would only stir his storm even more so. But dwelling...that merely caused him to sit and rest in the midst of the storm. Crazy? To some...or most rather, yes. Absolutely. But this "madman" was referred (by God Himself) as "a man after God's own heart." So obviously, I've missed something quite important along the way...

David was a man of focus. He had a focus I envy. His gaze was fixed. Fixed not on his storm...but on His God. David could dwell peacefully in the midst of his chaos because he was so caught up in the beauty of His Lord. In the beauty that comes only from the realization that I am not in charge. That I don't measure up. That I will continue to (always) fall short. Now that sounds like borderline insanity. Maybe it is. But something comes alive in one's heart when he reads that and lets it sink in to the very depths of his soul. Did you feel it? That was your heart beginning to awaken to the truth that you were created...to dwell.

Sure, you can fight it. I surely have...and most days still do. But thanks to the grace of my Jesus, that's begun to change. And He is inviting you to the same paradigm shift. To throw off the performance-based striving. To simply bask in His radiance. His abundant and furious love...for you. Honestly, it is a painful thing to slam on the brakes. Ceasing to strive can result in some pretty powerful whiplash. But the view...much clearer now that you've stopped, is more than worth the temporary discomfort. It will blow your mind. Your God is beckoning you to dwell because He knows that it is in His presence alone that you are safe. That only there, will you truly be healed.

So what do you say? Care to join me for the view?

Flames.

May 17, 2010

I absolutely love camping. Everything about it relaxes me and helps me forget the momentary troubles of this world. The campfire, however, is most definitely my favorite part of the entire outdoor experience. There are few things I love more than sitting in the crisp air on a June evening listening to the flames crack and whistle. 

Fire is a curious entity. It has never ceased to captivate me. I could gaze upon its flames for an eternity. Not only does it constantly flicker but also seems to present an endless dance of power, yet also simplistic purity.

However, the thing that always has puzzled me about a flame is its ability to destroy but, when used carefully, instead refine. How is it that a single substance has been used for the destruction of millions of people and yet the making of countless masterpieces? As I have considered this, I have come to find that the power of the flame is held in the hand of its master. What the master desires, so the flame will accomplish.

The past two years of my life have been nothing less than a whirlwind. They have been full of excitement, joy, new thrills, and victory. However, in spite of the sun, there has been rain. I have found myself in the midst of a seemingly never-ending storm. This life has had its share of pain, suffering, and sorrow. It is in these present experiences that I have begun to recognize the power of earthly circumstances and trials.

Last February, I began to have much pain whenever I ate. It began slowly. As time went on, however, the moments occurred more frequently and the pain increased. By June, I found myself in the emergency room. As the months carried on, I went through medical testing and multiple appointments. By December, I had four procedures and a handful of blood tests under my belt. Between my undiagnosed illness and the pressure of a semester of Pre-Med, I was spent. I have never before felt such fatigue or defeat.

Christmas break wasn’t much of a break. I was sick and worn out the majority of my time at home. I was beyond discouragement and the ability to hope. I couldn’t eat without getting sick for days on end. I lost the desire to even try because I knew it would only worsen my physical health. At the beginning of January, my mom suggested I see another doctor for a second opinion. To be honest, I didn’t care much anymore. I had begun to accept the fact that no one could help me feel better. It had been eleven months of searching with no answers…but I went anyway to have one last blood work done.

At the end of my first week of second semester, mom called me letting me know that my blood had tested positive for celiac sprue. I had celiac disease. They finally had found it. I still remember where I was when I heard that I would have this illness for the rest of my life. I didn’t know what to feel in that moment. I felt both relieved yet overwhelmed by the discovery. I barely had strength to get out of bed in the morning. How was I going to gather enough tenacity to continue about my new major, regaining my health, and beginning this journey of adjusting to a major lifestyle adjustment? I had no idea. I was close to surrender…it was all I had left.

Where am I going with this? Just bear with me. This is not something I enjoy talking about. In fact, I have been fighting bitterness, despair, and defeat for over a year. Not because it seems like 90% of food has been eliminated from my diet but because of the physical toll this disease has taken on my body. Anyone can adjust to eating only a handful of foods day after day. You might believe otherwise, but after months of illness, it’s amazing what you are motivated to do to feel healthy again. It’s not that I want the whole world to know this aspect of my life. Not the point. Actually, the exact opposite is true. I have tried for so long to ignore it and just move on. However, I have learned that circumstances that remain captive to Satan’s power become the very things that cause us to become destroyed by the flames—flames that have the potential to strengthen and transform the brokenness. So I have chosen to embrace the fire.

I feel as though the theme of my life right now is refinement. I’ve felt the flame countless times over the past few months and continue to presently. It’s as though I seemingly conquer one battle only to fall again when the new one approaches. But maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe, just maybe, this fire that has been overcoming my days is meant to mold and shape me…not leave me in ruin.

So this is what I’m getting at. I’m finding that the key to this overwhelming mystery of pain, toil, and struggle lies in the hand of the master. There are days when I have felt that everything is out to get me. But what if these hardships are opportunities in disguise? What if God is giving me the blessed privilege of proclaiming His grace and faithfulness in my moments of despair and weakness? What if His plan for me is to constantly be a picture of one who can do nothing but remain at His feet in constant surrender?

I’ve heard it said that the shadow proves the sunshine. Looking back on the past two years of my life, I can tell you from experience that statement could not be more true. I have felt immense discouragement, defeat, and have come quite close to giving up this fight to regain my physical and emotional health…multiple times. But in the midst of my darkest days, the light of hope has prevailed. When I had no more strength, God upheld me. I now personally know what Paul meant when he said, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9b-10)

What an amazing proclamation of faith! My daily prayer is that the pain would become less and less but in the moments of struggle, God would give me an opportunity to share the story of my refinement. How He has remolded my view of trials. How He has reshaped my perspective of pain. How He has renewed this broken spirit.

I will never look at a campfire the same way again. I have learned much about the power that lies within the flames. You see, fire has been used for centuries to purify. Some of the most broken things have been put to the flame only to emerge beautifully refined. Praise Jesus that He alone commands the flames that enter my life! He has redeemed my trials and moments of despair! No longer do my flames lie in the grasp of the master of destruction…but in the hands of my Mighty Creator…in the gentle care of my God.

Who holds your flame? 

Leaves.

January 3, 2010

Fall has always been my favorite season. Something about the vibrant horizon and crisp air never ceases to leave me captivated. I love driving down country roads and breathing in the unmistakable scent of leaves while taking a mental photograph of the landscape before me. It is almost as if God paints every tree with a unique pattern of color and texture every fall season. However, something else has always blown my mind even more so than the overwhelming beauty of my hometown scenery. Did you know that in the midst of leaves changing their appearance they are slowly dying? As my life has taken a few unexpected turns in the course of these past few months, fall has not only remained to be my favorite time of year but also a time that causes me to reflect and bask in the overwhelming grace and sovereignty of my God.

It was during my Anatomy and Physiology class my junior year of high school that I truly felt I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. From that year on, I set out with the aim of doing everything in my power to attend Physician’s Assistant school. It was that simple. I planned to attend Indiana Wesleyan and enroll in Pre-Med Biology to build the foundation I would need for graduate school and that is exactly what I did. My first year of college was an uphill battle full of failure, struggle, and confusion. There were countless days that I doubted my ability to make it through the Pre-Med program successfully, much less alive and well. It was a common occurrence for me to attend a full day of classes only to spend an average of six hours a night following in the library. I quickly found that God was revealing to me some major lessons that I needed so badly to learn. I had never before found myself in a season of life when I truly had to rely on the strength and grace of the Lord. I began to discover that I was not as strong and capable as I once saw myself to be. My pride was shattered, as I would spend numerous hours studying and preparing for an exam only to receive a grade that was less than average. There is nothing like taking a Type A person and completely rattling their cage with academia. I was a mess.

Looking back on that first year of college, I am able to chuckle because even in the midst of my sweat, tears, frustration, anger, and defeat, I made it through. The classes I thought I would surely fail, I passed. It was during those tears and trials that God broke down my walls of stubbornness and pride. He truly became my foundation. It is by the grace and provision of Jesus Christ alone that I have made it through a year and a half of Pre-Med at Indiana Wesleyan. My time thus far at college has been the most trying yet sweetest time of my life as I have begun to learn the meaning of surrender and perseverance. It was this past September, though, that God began reading me the opening chapters of a story that would be the beginning of a brand new journey.

During my first Mammalian Anatomy class this fall it was as if a voice resounded deep within my soul saying, “This is not where you belong, Lauren, I have something else for you.” I knew in that moment that God was beginning to lead me in a completely different direction. To be honest, I was a tad irritated. I had returned to school thrilled that I had already conquered the infamous college adjustment and thought the worst of it was behind me. Obviously, God had other plans. I was quite flustered to say the very least. After all, I was Lauren Workman, the one who never failed to have a plan!

Over the next months, I began realizing brand new aspects of myself that I desperately needed to allow the Lord to change, shape, and mold. I stood in awe as I felt the Lord take my hand and destroy the fears that had been entangling me. My heart ached as the Lord gently remolded my life plans, intentions, and dreams. Nevertheless, with each new day, I saw that my heart was becoming more aligned with His as He continued to reveal His purpose for my life. It was an immense struggle for me to let go and allow myself to wait on the Lord but God remained ever faithful in my moments of doubt and stubbornness. I discovered that it was in the days that I most surrendered to His plan that I began to see more clearly all that He has for me. My heart is slowly awakening to the purpose that God has created me to fulfill in this life of mine. The more aware I become of this dream, I continue to wonder why it has taken me so long to see what seems to be overwhelmingly evident to me now. However, I know that the sum of the events in my life thus far have been sovereignly determined by God Himself.

So here I am. All of the moments and experiences I have mentioned above have truly opened my eyes to the freedom I have in Jesus Christ. Coming from a Christian background, I had heard of this freedom countless times but never truly had a moment in life that caused me to claim it for myself. I quickly found that it was in the valleys that this freedom began to “click” for the first time in my heart and mind. I am free from the expectation to have everything figured out! I am able to live freely in the fact that God holds me in His hand and sovereignly guides me in His time, not my own. The change in my countenance and perception of life is undeniable! Jesus has completely revived this heart of mine and has given me a brand new dream. I have so much joy in the newfound purpose that I have come to find in my Creator. I am free to simply be all that He has made me to be!

I have officially decided to double major in Psychology and Addictions Counseling next semester. I have complete peace that God has led me to this decision and has clearly affirmed it for me along the way. I cannot deny that this change of heart and direction has been from the very hand of the Lord as I have waited upon Him. I can no longer be silent. God has infused me with such a passion to speak on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves. I strongly desire to tell the world of this freedom I have found in Christ and how He has made me new by His grace. My heart aches for those who are living in bondage of things that claim to satisfy but do not. I have encountered the living God who calls every man out of death and into life! How could I continue on this journey called life and not proclaim this love that is unlike any other?

As I have continued to seek God and all that He has for me, He has begun to give me more clarity regarding this dream deep within my heart. My heart is restless as I see countless faces full of despair and souls immensely burdened. I am discovering that my heart beats in order that I may proclaim freedom and salvation for those who cannot see. I absolutely adore the passage in Isaiah which states,

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair…" (Isaiah 61:1-3, The Bible)

After graduating from Indiana Wesleyan, I hope connect with or establish a Christian organization that reaches out to battered women and children to give them a fresh start. I am also quite burdened regarding the revival of the God-established institution of family. I obtain no greater fulfillment or joy than simply having the opportunity to come along side someone else and walk through life with them. God is continuing to awaken my heart to an immense passion of seeing people redeemed by the blood of Christ to truly live in freedom by His matchless grace. God has freed me and has given me such an overwhelming desire to reflect His heart to the broken and despised of this world. Without Christ, I am nothing and can do nothing. I pray that with each new day I begin to look more like my Creator. My desire is not that others would see Lauren Workman but rather, Jesus Christ shining through me. He alone is my salvation, purpose, and hope!

So what does all of this have to do with a bunch of leaves? I was hoping you would ask. The most bright and colorful leaves are those that are closest to death. Likewise, much must die within me before the Lord can make something beautiful of this life. Through this entire season of change and transition, God has been so faithful to me and has blessed me beyond measure. I have been convicted, broken, and changed as my heart is stirring to the see Kingdom of God move throughout all the earth. My heart yearns to pour into people and to share this joy and hope that I have found. Nothing else will satisfy this fire deep within my soul. God is too good and life too short for me to do anything else.