On Mixed Emotions, and The Final Two Months...

It occurred to me this weekend that I am entering into the last two full months of living in Oklahoma. Two full months, and then a few days in August, and I will be boarding a plane to return to my "native land" (as my dear friend put it) of Canada. Wowsers. 

When I think of having 80+ remaining days before I leave Oklahoma City, I experience what feels like a myriad of emotions. Over the past year, I've learned the importance of recognizing my emotions, but not getting stuck in them. During this season of transition, I am recognizing and feeling the emotions I have, so that I embrace, grieve and grow in a healthy manner. So I'm taking a moment to walk through some of what I'm feeling, and you're more than welcome to share that short walk with me. 

I do feel excited about returning home to my family. Four and a half years away from my family, with a visit once a year, is a very long time to be away, when you grew up within close proximity of your entire family. When your family is close-knit, the homesickness can be heartbreaking. So, I am excited to be reunited with my family, once again. I look forward to sharing birthdays, anniversaries, Sunday dinners, game nights, and so many other events that I've missed out on over the past four years. I especially look forward to spending time with my nieces, three sweet little ladies who have had to be loved by their auntie, with 2,500 miles in between.  

I am excited to be with my friends, and with my church family in Charlottetown, again. I've been able to stay connected, and even reconnect, with several dear friends whom I'm thrilled to share life with, face-to-face. I'm looking forward to ministering with my church family, and I am seeking God to show me what that will look like...I am also asking Him to grant me patience, as I wait for Him to reveal that. Anyone who knows me, knows that I love to just jump in and do, do, do, right away. God is showing me that I will be entering into a brief season of rest, but also that He has great plans for me, and ways that He will use me to extend His love and grace to others...but oh, how I must be patient, and allow Him to lead. This business of obedience, as I told some of our kiddos at the corps this morning, is a skill that must be learned and practiced, both as a child and as an adult. It makes me smile to think that God reminded me of that this morning, through a Sunday School lesson taught to little ones. His Word is for everyone. 

I did say that I am experiencing many emotions, and with excitement and anticipation, also comes periods of sadness. Oklahoma City has been my home for almost five years, and I have made friendships and Family of God connections that I hold so very close to my heart. So I am experiencing sadness, as I think about the final 80+ days I have here in OKC, as I will soon bid farewell to those many friends that I've made, here in the city, and across the Division and Territory.

I will greatly miss my precious corps family at the Oklahoma City Citadel. I have to grieve and experience this emotion in small digestible bites, because the thought of leaving my sweet corps family still overwhelms me a bit. This family has watched me grow over the past four and a half years, much closer than many, praying with me, rejoicing with me, crying with me, and everything in between. I've watched babies come into the world and grow up into beautiful little people. I've mourned with families who've lost loved ones. I've celebrated achievements with our kids and teens. I've helped others tackle some tough personal and spiritual issues. I've made numerous trips to and from camp, gotten a bus stuck in a Sonic Drive-In stall on slushie runs. I've seen kids come to know Jesus. I've watched Corps Officers transition in and out. I've seen so much, shared so much. When roots are planted deep, it's painful to pull them up. But, if I'm honest, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love deeply and invest deeply, and that's worth the pain of having to dig the deep roots. 

I look to the future with a mixture of anticipation, excitement and fear. The fear part is tough, and as I've learned over this past year, I've operated on fear for a long time. I experience fear of the future, and what's ahead. I want to see how every detail of my future will unfold, and I become anxious when I don't have all the answers and the big picture. But oh, how thankful I am that my Heavenly Father does indeed know those details. He is so gently leading me, and reminding me, through loved ones, to be patient, and to stay tuned to His Voice, and His Voice only, to guide each step. I take those steps of obedience, as He leads me, and rest when I must rest. I work through the fear, and He helps me to see it for what it is, and to counteract it with His Truth. 

I think this only skims the surface of the many emotions I'm experiencing, and will be experiencing, over these next 80+ days. When you've suppressed and dealt with these emotions in an unhealthy manner for so long, it can be overwhelming to experience them with fresh eyes and a fresh heart. But I recognize the difference, this time. This is not the first time I have had to make a difficult and bittersweet transition, and I am encouraged to see that I am approaching this one in a much healthier way. I am so thankful for the immense growth and change God has brought me through over this past year. Little did I know that His bringing me through this season of growth and change was preparing me for these next 80+ days, and for the season ahead. Incredible. 

This morning, in our holiness meeting, our Corps Officer reminded us of the need to recognize God as the Light, Salvation and a Stronghold that we can cling to. What Mrs. Gilliam reminded us of, that is resonating with me, is our need to recognize God as our Light, our Salvation, and our Stronghold. We can trust the promises that God makes to us in His Word, and we can believe and say, with conviction, the truth of His character, and who we are in Him. 

I've been chewing on this, tonight, as I write. There are so many emotions that I'm experiencing, as I prepare to transition back to life in Canada, some positive, and some challenging; but I am learning that amidst those sometimes overwhelming emotions, which can sometimes feel shaky and unstable, I have a solid foundation that I can stand upon, in the Word and the person of Jesus Christ. I am learning to replace the negative and distorted beliefs about myself and about my relationship with Him and with others, with the Truth of His Word that sets me free. It's not easy, but it's essential to my soul's growth, and it's necessary to living life as a woman firmly planted and rooted in the Word. 

So I rest in Him, tonight. And when my heart becomes anxious or sad, I pray that the Holy Spirit will draw me back to the Truth that I find in the Word of God, so that I stay connected to God, my Light, God, my Salvation, God, my Stronghold. 

Thanks for taking a walk with me, tonight. 

Blessings. 
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On The Pain of Refining, And The Importance Of Asking For Help...
One of my favorite quotes from Jennifer Rothschild's
Hosea: Unfailing Love Changes Everything Bible Study.


May I be real, for a moment? It's been a rough couple of days. The details of why it's been rough aren't really necessary to delve into; but it's been a challenging 48 hours. I now laugh to myself, as God gently reminded earlier today that it's really been 48 hours of His further refining me. Aye yie yie! There are days when I would like for Him to slow down on the refining, but I know He's right. As I was driving home this afternoon, the melodies of Hawk Nelson's Diamonds rang through my speakers, and I heard the words: "He's making diamonds, diamonds, making diamonds out of dust. He's refining, and in His timing, He's making diamonds out of us." In that moment, God reminded me that, while I've been having to do the hard thing, even when I don't WANT to do the hard thing, it's all part of His refining my heart and my mind to be more like Him, to be healthier. 

And then I turned to my Bible Study. I'm still finishing up last week, but it's okay, because I needed to read the words you see above in the photo. And then, I scrolled a little further down the page, where my eyes met this paragraph: 
"Your identity is not your failure or past. Your identity is not your success or virtues. Your identity is not what you do, what you did, haven't done, should have done, or wished you'd done. Your identity is a chosen, loved woman whom God calls His beloved. Can you begin to accept the you that God accepted?" (Rothschild, Hosea: Unfailing Love Changes Everything, pg. 33)
I need to sit with that for a moment. See, what I'm currently working through involves learning the fine art of internalizing the truth about who I am, not the lies, not the negative distorted reality I've picked up somewhere. And it's hard. Have you ever tried to learn a new way of doing something that's always come naturally to you, in the past? Wowsers. Unfortunately, for me, I've gotten really good at internalizing a lot of distorted truths about myself, and at 32 years old, I'm learning how to re-write that script. It's tough. So very tough. But with God's hand upon me, I'm slowly turning that tide. And let me tell you, sometimes it feels like I'm trying to turn the tide of the entire Atlantic Ocean, as I break down and sift through the lies that are ingrained in my mind. It takes a lot of repetition, and sometimes it involves a lot of tears; but by golly, I'm doing it.

So, I look at that phrase, "Can you begin to accept the you that God accepted?", and I have to stop there for a second. Even after being a Christian for several years, I still struggle to accept the "me" that God has accepted, and is refining...but I can begin, can't I?

I grabbed my journal, and started writing. I used an exercise that I've been learning and using to help counteract the negative beliefs I have about myself, debate them with the truth, and consider an alternative response to the event.

Y'all. It's blowing my mind. How long have I had such distorted beliefs about myself and God? Well, unfortunately, it's been for far too long, if I'm honest. And I have a feeling that I'm not the only one.

But it's not too late to begin turning that tide.

I've been believing for a long time that I'm not worthy of God's love, and I've not been able to accept who I am in Him...but it's simply not true, and there are so many promises in His Word that completely counteract the distorted beliefs I've long held. I've believed His promises for so many others, and it's time to believe them for myself. It's time to turn the tide. It's going to be tough, and it's going to require work, and faith, big steps of faith...but it's time.

Friends, we can't do this alone. First and foremost, we need God's help. Immensely. But we also need each other. Today I realized a very important truth that I've been distorting for years: "I DON'T HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF." I don't give up control easily, and I can comfortably say that because I know there are others who can relate. Yesterday and today, I had to reach out and ask for help, and it was probably one of the healthiest choices I could ever make, far beyond what I eat or for how long I exercise. Realizing that there are people surrounding me who love me and will help me when I reach out really rattles the mind of a woman who believes that she has to be everything to everyone, and do everything all the time. It's not a popular response, to reach out and ask for help, but I learned today that doing this very thing saved me from what could have been a much longer and much more painful healing process, had I chosen not to. We are so quick to help others who reach out to us; why do we struggle to reach out, ourselves?

So many lies to combat, so much tide to turn...but I'm doing it, one step at a time.

Where are you in your process of being refined? Are you trying to do it all yourself? Where is God in the picture? Are there others surrounding you who are willing to help you?

Reach out. Start turning the tide. With God's hand upon you, it's possible.

Blessings.






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On Gas Station Inspirations and Learning to Grow...

"And now, just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord,
you must continue to follow him.
Let your roots grow down into him,
and let your lives be built on him.
Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught,
and you will overflow with thankfulness."
Colossians 2:7 (NLT)

This past weekend, I was honored to be part of a celebration that concluded four years of college for my dear friend Angela. Her journey has been so many things: exciting, adventurous, scary, challenging, stretching, sometimes even miraculous, and I know she would agree. I've been there. The day I received my diploma, I did two things: I took a long and deep sigh of relief, that this chapter was complete; but I also sucked my breath back in, wondering what on earth God had in store for me in the new chapter that was about to begin. I have no doubt that my sweet friend has done the same. But more on that, another time. 

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to share some of my heart and my journey with my friends, as we made the long drive home to Oklahoma City from Kentucky. I shared some of the challenges that will lay ahead in this leg of my journey. I have shared openly in previous posts my need to address and work through some of the emotional struggles that have been connected with my eating and weight issues. Over the next few weeks, I will be called to unearth, process and work through some issues I have worked hard to suppress over several years. I will face fears, learn new ways to cope with life, and work to rewrite the negatively-fueled script of a tape that has been playing over and over in my head for as long as I can remember. Loved ones, it really will not benefit you to know the details of what I will be working through and, if I'm honest, even I don't know all of those details yet. But what I do want you to know is that this will be a very challenging feat. It will be exhausting, in every sense of the word. There are times when I will want to avoid it, walk away from it, give up on it completely. But, as I've reflected on recently, I've begun to experience and taste the sweetness of freedom and walking in victory, and once you've experienced it, deep in your soul, you don't want to go back to what used to be, no matter how comfortable or seemingly easy it was. 

So, in this regard, please pray for me. Pray for wisdom for myself and for the person who will be walking this journey with me. Pray for encouragement and support from the wonderful people who are surrounding me throughout this journey. Pray for God to be glorified, even in the midst of challenging times. 

It was important for me to express the above, because, as I was able to share my heart with dear ones, yesterday, God brought something to mind that really rocked my spirit. As I was standing in a gas station, during a quick restroom break, the words came to me, and I immediately reached for my phone and feverishly put the words to "paper": 


"Sometimes saying "yes" and walking in obedience requires doors to be opened that we never wanted opened. Sometimes it allows for wounds to be opened that we've fought for years to keep covered. It's messy to unearth things of our past that we haven't previously dealt with...but we know that a dead plant won't grow. A covered wound won't heal. Darkness remains darkness until the light of an open door breaks through.

Healing is messy, but it's necessary for growth. It's messy, and it takes work; but when the cycle is broken, you become free to walk in victory."


Wow. I remember writing those words down, then catching my breath. In the middle of that gas station, God reminded me of the dire importance of this journey's next leg. Because, believe me when I say this: yesterday, in that gas station, there was a part of me that did not want to take another step down this road God is calling me to walk. This stuff is messy. It's exhausting to dredge up the hard and dried-up, dehydrated soil of your heart and mind. Problem is, though, in the past, I dredged up these issues, and simply replanted them, not resolved, not dealt with, and even buried them deeper and farther into the ground, never to see the light of day. Anybody else note the unhealthy flaw in that? Because I sure do. How could I ever expect healing and change and growth to come from seeds that were still infected, going into soil that was still hard, dried-up, parched and dehydrated?

It won't happen. It just won't. And it's taken me years to finally figure that out.

So this morning, as I was taking a shower and getting ready for my day, I asked God to help me with these words He brought to mind. I know that He inspired the words I wrote above; but I wanted to know what His Word said about all this. My mind particularly stuck to the phrase, "...we know that a dead plant won't grow." I vaguely remembered a verse about being "rooted", which I found out later came from Colossians 2:7 (quoted above), but then I came across the book of Hosea, and I was reminded of the Scripture that was used as part of the theme of this year's Women's Camp, "Standing...Dancing...Singing in the Rain":

"I said, 'Plant the good seeds of righteousness, and you will harvest a crop of love. Plow up the hard ground of your hearts, for now is the time to seek the Lord, that he may come and shower righteousness upon you.'" ~ Hosea 10:12 (NLT)

Do you know much about the book of Hosea? I'm a little embarrassed to say that I didn't. I know that I've read it. I know that I've heard sermons on it. I know I studied it in college. But when I returned to this book in my Bible, this morning, I needed to be reminded of what this book was all about.

I'll give a few broad strokes of the background. The prophet Hosea was writing to the people of Israel, who were living very sinful lives. Hosea was warning Israel of the turmoil and destruction they would face because of their sin and idolatry. If they didn't return to God, they risked war and famine and a life separated from God. It's all about context, right? Look at what Hosea goes on to say in verse 13:

"'But you have cultivated wickedness and harvested a thriving crop of sins. You have eaten the fruit of lies - frustrating your military might, believing that great armies could make your nations safe.'" ~ Hosea 10:13 (NLT)

Going back a little further to the beginning of Chapter 10, Hosea talks about "how prosperous Israel is - a luxuriant vine loaded with fruit." (10:1). But he reminds us that the more aware Israel was of its prosperity, the less aware they were of God. Then the altars were built. The idols were erected. He says in verse 4:

"They spout empty words and make covenants they don't intend to keep. So injustice springs up among them, like poisonous weeds in a farmer's field." (10:4)

Hosea doesn't sugar-coat a thing, in this book. He tells Israel exactly how it is, in The Lord's eyes. His words are hard to swallow; but if we were really honest, can we not relate to what Israel was doing? Isn't this pretty relevant to our world? Sit with that for a moment.

But, God being who He is, He reminds us of His faithfulness to Israel, and of the importance of returning to Him, later in Chapter 13:

"'I have been the Lord your God, ever since I brought you out of Egypt. You must acknowledge no God but me, for there is no other savior. I took care of you in the wilderness, in that dry and thirsty land. But when you had eaten and were satisfied, you became proud and forgot me.'" (13:4-6)

Ouch. Am I the only one feeling convicted by that? Well, read a little further, down to Chapter 14:

"Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God, for your sins have brought you down. Bring your confessions and return to the Lord. Say to him, 'Forgive all our sins and graciously receive us, so that we may offer you our praises.'...

The Lord says, 'Then I will heal you of your faithfulness; my love will know no bounds, for my anger will be gone forever. I will be to Israel like a refreshing dew from heaven. Israel will blossom like the lily; it will send roots deep into the soil like the cedars of Lebanon. Its branches will spread out like beautiful olive trees, as fragrant as the cedars of Lebanon. My people will again flourish like grain and blossom like grapevines. They will be as fragrant as the wines of Lebanon.

O Israel, stay away from idols! I am the one who answers your prayers and cares for you. I am like a tree that is always green; all your fruit comes from me.'"

 A dead plant won't grow. Seeds that are infected, not planted and cared for properly, will not grow into something that's fresh and healthy and prosperous.

Friends, let me be the first to admit that there are weeds and poisonous roots and infected vines growing around my heart and mind. And because they've been growing for years, it's going to take a lot of time and work to cut these things away; but it's time. It's time for change. It's time to dredge up the soil, and seeds and roots that are infected. It's time to deal with the pain of my past, and replace the dead plants with new ones, ones that are deeply rooted in God's promises and truth, so that a beautiful garden, fresh, new, bursting with color and health, begins to grow.

But I know that I'm no master gardener. Anyone who knows me, knows that my "green thumb" is a bright purple. So I need help. Once again, I must submit to God's leading, and trust in Him. I need to allow Him to show me where to dig, what to dig, and what to replace. I need to allow Him to work through those who are walking me through this journey, to help me rewrite the script, and to find what's true among what feels like a million lies that the enemy of my soul has plagued me with for years.

It's time.

Oh, I have so much more to write about this. And I have a feeling that I'm going to be hanging out with Hosea for a while. But for now, I will allow this to sit. And I will ask you a question:

Is it time for you?

Think about it. And check out the book of Hosea.

Blessings.
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100 Pounds...

Where My Journey Began...
August 2016

As of today, I have hit my first major weight loss milestone. 100 pounds. Wow. Even as the words leave my lips, I'm still in shock. 

I look at this picture above, where I started this particular leg of my journey. I get a lump in my throat. That was the heaviest I had been. Ever. But oh, the heaviness in this picture is only depicted physically. There was so much more weight there than you could ever see - that is, unless you really knew me, and were walking the journey with me. Only few took the brave step of coming alongside me for these next steps, and tears come to my eyes, as I think of these people. God used them to save my life. 

See, to date, I've lost 100 pounds, in the physical sense. Fat, cells, water, you name it. If I was a little more scientifically-minded, I could give you a whole scenario of what that looks like for my body. But what matters to me tonight, is all the other things that have weighed me down, that I am letting go of, by hitting this milestone. For the past nine months, I have been losing 100 pounds worth of...

...shame...

...anger...

...insecurity...

...fear...

...anxiety...

...low self-esteem...

...self-hatred...

...resentment...

...sin...

...avoidance....

...loneliness...

...and more than my mind can even bring to paper. And friends, I'm not completely there, yet. But let me tell you: God has brought me through so much over these past months. He has given me the ability and the strength to dig deep and start working through issues that I have been stuffing down inside of me for years. 

And there's more to come. Tonight, as I was reflecting on what losing these 100 pounds means to me, I thought about what I've been calling this particular milestone: "The First 100". On paper, I still have 116 pounds (or somewhere around that) to lose in order to reach my goal weight. So I have another 100 or so to go. I have a "Second 100" to hit, and by golly, I'm going to get there. See, I look at that picture, and that lump in my throat reminds me of what I carried during that time. It was so much more than weight. It was dark, and scary, and frustrating, and agonizing. I felt the true heaviness of that season, more than I wore it on my body. 


April 2016

I look at this picture. I'm smiling. I'm wearing makeup. I'm carrying myself differently. 

Friends, for the first time in a long time, I really do like what I see, here. Not just the physical. I like this girl. I like this girl who is learning to feel, again. She's learning to be confident, again. She's learning to take risks, again. She's learning to love her Savior more deeply. She's learning to let go of the scars of her past, the resentments and hurts that weighed her down. She's realizing that she's not perfect, and that her value and worth aren't found in her perfection, or lack thereof. She's learning that her worth is found in Christ, her Savior, that paid an incredible price for her freedom. She's learning the importance of walking in that freedom. 

 Day by day, step by step, this girl is giving control to her Savior, to change her from the inside out, as hard and painful as it may be. 

And there's more to come. 

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways, submit to Him, and He will make your path straight." ~Proverbs 3:5-6

So, on to the "Second 100". Here's to another 100 pounds, and the next leg of the journey. I'm trusting my Lord to continue walking with me through a new season of growing, stretching, risking, changing, shaping. It will be challenging. Sometimes it will hurt. Some days I am going to want to give up. But I won't. I won't go back to the way I was, in that first picture. I won't go back to that place of spiritual, mental, emotional, physical heaviness. Not when I've tasted the sweetness of victory, of deeper intimacy with the One who made me, shaped me, who loves me far too much to leave me in the darkness. 

 He's bringing me into the light, one step at at time.

 Pray for me. Encourage me. Hold me accountable. I can't do this alone. I knew that, the day my dear friend spoke the words to me that resonated right down to my very marrow: "Do you want to get better?" I will never forget those words, because that was the phrase that jarred me, and awakened me out of the darkness. I tell her often, but I hope my friend realizes just how The Lord used her that day, to wake me up. He's used her, and He's used others to show me, and He's even shown me in the quiet moments, just me and Him, that I'm not alone in this journey. 

 So walk with me, friends. The next leg starts tomorrow. 

 Blessings. 
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All The Way My Savior Leads Me...


"Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways, submit to him,
and he will make your path straight."
~Proverbs 3:5-6~


It's funny how sometimes, on the same day, a year later or even years later, you find yourself in a very similar place, perhaps not geographically, but in your journey with God. Call it a cycle, call it history repeating itself; but today, I call it a timely reminder of God's faithfulness. 

This morning, I came across a post on my Facebook, where I quoted the lyrics from the song, "All I Have, I Am Bringing To Thee" by Richard Slater and Herbert Howard Booth. It's a beautiful and simple song, but I remember where I was in my journey with God the day I was asked to sing that song in the Sunday service, and the words from one particular verse resonated very strongly with my heart and mind: 

Though by darkness, my future is veiled,
Here's my all, for thy love has prevailed,
I no longer doubt thee,
I know thou dost save me,
My life shall be wholly for thee.

See, around the time that I was asked to sing this song, I was in a place of questioning exactly what God's calling was on my life. Not many people knew that at the time, but if you happened to see the tears that were falling from my face or hear the slight sobs that I choked in my throat to make it through the song, you probably had an idea that something was going on. Little did I know that, just around the corner, God had a new chapter to my story, a chapter that would involve doing the very thing I sang about that morning:

All I am, I am bringing to thee,
All I am, I am bringing to thee,
In thy steps I will follow,
Come joy or come sorrow,
Dear Savior, I will follow thee...

This morning, I found myself in a very similar place. The lyrics of the song were different, the placement of the song in the service was different, but there I was, still very much in a place of questioning exactly what God's calling was on my life. I sang the very familiar words of a song that I've been singing since I set foot on Oklahoma soil back in 2011: I Surrender by Phil Laeger. 

But oh, the words caught in my throat, this morning. If you read my entry from yesterday, you read about how I've been discovering the "Things I do" and the "Things I don't do". I was pretty brutally honest about how I have spent a long time trying to be everything to everybody, to the point where it has become difficult for me to realize just exactly where I fit in the realm of ministry. If I'm honest, moving back to Canada will involve a lot of "returning to the drawing board" for me, and rediscovering the passions that God has placed on my heart, not to please man, but to please Him, and to serve Him. 

I have turned over and over in my head, trying to figure out what on earth I'm going to be doing when I return home to Canada. I'd love to tell you that I have grand and extensive plans of what the next step is for me. But, if I'm honest, I don't. Aside from working to make ends meet, spending time with my friends, family and church family, I'm not really sure of what exactly God has in store for this next chapter, as far as ministry goes. I am very confident in the fact that He will use me somehow for ministry, and I have countless grand plans that I could carry out; but this morning, in the midst of my Corp Officer's sermon, God reminded me very quickly of the fact that He is the one who leads me, that the plans for my life and ministry are His to show me. He gives me wisdom to think through things and to plan, but He also knows that I can very quickly plan and think to the point where His plan is completely out of the picture. He showed me this morning that I need to follow where He leads me, not where "Chelsea leads me", and that especially involves how He will use me in ministry back home. 

I often play piano during the Time of Commitment and Prayer, which follows the sermon, and so I often find myself reflecting and praying after the service, once the hustle and bustle have calmed a bit. I spent a lot of time at the altar, praying and reflecting, but even after that, once everyone left the building, I found myself in my office, sobbing and pouring my heart out to God, just me and Him. Suddenly the Holy Spirit was interceding, and bringing the groans of my heart to words, about the confusion I am experiencing, the insecurity I feel about where on earth I fit in ministry, because of all the time I spent trying to be everything to everybody, and how it's a very scary place to be, not knowing what is next.

But see, God, being the very Abba that created me, knows exactly how much this next step scares me, and He knows just how much I want to know every detail of the next step. He knows how frustrated I get not knowing how to prepare every single step and every single move for what's next. And in that moment, that ugly-cry, tear-stained face, smeared mascara, puffy red eyes moment, God brought to my lips the very Scripture that I wrote under the photograph above: 

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways, submit to him,
and he will make your path straight."
(emphasis mine)


How thankful I am for God's Word that is hidden in my heart, that He brings back to me in the moments that I come completely unraveled. He reminded me, in that moment, that what I need to do, right here, and right now, is to trust Him, and to submit to Him. No matter how scary it may feel, or how uncertain the next step may seem, or how my stubborn head may not want to submit, I must trust Him and submit to Him. 



And so, amid the intermittent sobs I choked in my throat, I sang the very same words I had just sung in the service, I Surrender. But oh, I was now singing those words with such a deeper understanding of what God is calling me to, in this moment, right here, and right now: 

You took up Your cross, with the joy set before You,
And now with my life, Lord, I adore You,
For all that You are, and all You have given,
Jesus, I come.
Jesus, I come.

I surrender my life to Your blood,
I surrender my name for Your glory,
I surrender my heart to Your will,
I surrender my dreams to the plans You have for me.
Thank You for showing me the emptiness
Of all I held on to.
I surrender it all,
I surrender my everything for You. 

Tomorrow morning, at our Women's Auxiliary Monthly Meeting, I have been asked to share a song with the ladies. God has been continually bringing the song, "All The Way My Savior Leads Me" by Chris Tomlin to my mind, and I plan to sing it. What I knew about this song was that Tomlin adapted the lyrics from a well-known hymn. What I didn't know was that this was a hymn written by none other than Fanny J. Crosby. Anyone who knows Crosby's story knows that she was stricken with blindness from almost birth. At six weeks old, her blindness was discovered, and it was determined in her early childhood that she would be permanently blind. But Crosby stood in the face of adversity, and has written countless poems and hymns of faith that are still inspiring people the world over.

I wanted to know what inspired Crosby to write this particular song. Here's what I found from author Kenneth Osbeck, who wrote 101 Hymn Stories: 



Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories (Kregel Publications, 1982)

"My first thought was, it is so wonderful the way the Lord leads me." Did you catch that? Oh, how I want to be a woman who says that of my Lord, especially in this chapter of wondering what He holds for me in these next months and years. 

What you may not know is that there is a deeper connection to this song for me. See, this song, with the adaptation and arrangement by Chris Tomlin, was the very song I sang on my last Sunday as Pastor of Arts and Worship at Hartland Wesleyan Church, around this same time, in 2009. I was in a very similar season of wondering what the next chapter of my journey would look like. Like today, I was afraid, unsure, and frustrated that I didn't know all the details. Little did I know that God would soon take me on a whirlwind adventure to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, for a four-year chapter filled with ministry, new friendships, a beautiful church family, challenging lessons, and so much growth. 

Tomorrow, I get to share this song with the Women's Auxiliary. And I get to say, in word and in song, that while I don't know exactly what the next chapter of my journey will look like, that in this moment, right here and right now, God is calling me to trust Him, and to submit to His leading. I will hold Proverbs 3:5-6 very close to my heart, and I will sing these words, hopefully with less sobs to choke in my throat:
All the way my Savior leads me.
Who have I to ask beside?
How could I doubt His tender mercies?
Who through life has been my guide?

All the way my Savior leads me.
Cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the Living Bread.

You lead me and keep me from falling.
You carry me close to Your heart,
And surely, Your goodness and mercy
Will follow me.

All the way my Savior leads me.
O, the fullness of His love!
O, the sureness of His promise,
In the triumph of His blood!

And when my spirit, clothed immortal
Wings its flight to realms of day,
This my song, through endless ages-
"Jesus lead me all the way!"

You lead me and keep me from falling.
You carry me close to Your heart,
And surely, Your goodness and mercy
Will follow me.

All the way, with ups and downs, joy and sorrow, uncertainty, tears and laughter...

...my Savior leads me...

Blessings. 
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On Recognizing "Things I Do" and "Things I Don't Do"...


I like lists. I live and die by my To-Do Lists, and when I don't use them, my less-than-perfect organized life falls apart. But after reading the chapter "Things I Don't Do" from Shauna Niequist's "Bittersweet", I'm thinking about my "To-Do's" a little differently...

I realize that I've been writing a lot lately about my discoveries from reading Shauna Niequist's Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace and Learning the Hard Way. If this is not your thing right now, don't worry. I'm sure I'll be coming back with some thoughts on single-hood and such, soon! :-) But, for the time being, if you'd like, come along with me on my journey. 

It takes a lot for me to underline ANYTHING in a book, partly because I hate to disturb the pristine pages, if I'm honest. But this particular chapter found me underlining something in every other paragraph of Niequist's chapter, Things I Don't Do. The title jarred me at first, wondering where on earth she would go with this. It turned out that her insights resonated with me in a way that caught me completely off guard. 

I'm a self-professed people-pleaser. I desire harmony in everything that's around me, and I will kill myself (metaphorically, of course!) to ensure that harmony takes place. And so enters the neverending To-Do List. And so I instantly identified with the author on her journey of people-pleasing, be-the-best-you-can-be endeavor. 

What struck me in this chapter is how Niequist found herself one day writing the words in all-caps, DO EVERYTHING BETTER, on one of her to-do lists. I will confess that I've never physically done this before; but man. How many times have I thought this, in my day-to-day living? How many times have I endeavored to "be all things to all people"? 

I've been discovering, throughout this particular season of my life, that I can't be everything to everybody - at least, not in a healthy manner, or without sacrificing my health. And for a self-professed people-pleasing harmony-seeker, this is often soul-crushing for me. And this reality hit me especially, last summer, after a crazy few weeks of late-night office-dwelling, countless drives back and forth to camp, nights with less-than-ample sleep, and absolutely no healthy self-care or downtime, that I was crashing and burning, in every sense of the word. My emotions and moods were way out of control, I was super-edgy and tense, and every time I dropped the ball on something, I launched into days of beating myself up because I couldn't measure up. Today, I am very thankful for a friend and mentor who took me by the shoulders and helped me realize the very unhealthy and dangerous road I was on, and would continue on, if I didn't get some help. Turns out, that was very close to the point where I would embark on my journey of weight loss, making healthy lifestyle choices, and allowing God to grow and change me daily, from the inside out, through personal writing and reflecting, allowing myself to take time and truly rest and devote time to connecting with my Savior, and through seeking the support of those who struggle with the very things that I do. Hard to believe that was almost a year ago, shy of four months. 

So Niequist has challenged me. She talked at length about her own personal discovery of "Things I do" and "Things I don't do": 
"And this is what Denise told me: she said it's not hard to decide what you want your life to be about. What's hard, she said, is figuring out what you're willing to give up in order to do the things you really care about...

...Deciding what I wanted wasn't that hard. But deciding what I'm willing to give up for those things is like yoga for your superego, stretching and pushing and ultimately healing that nasty little person inside of you who exists only for what people think."

Niequist then went on to give a very honest and vulnerable list of the "Things I Do" and "Things I Don't Do". And she talked about the freedom she experienced when she was really honest about the things that she "doesn't do", the things that don't come naturally to her, and maybe even the things that are not necessary for her to do. I have to tell you, even as I read her list, I myself felt an immense amount of freedom for the author. 

But what about me? Am I brave enough to be honest about the things I do, and moreso, the things I don't do? Phew. That's a toughie for me. But I also want to experience the freedom of knowing that I am not perfect, but a beautiful work in progress. The words imperfect progress have very much been a theme in this leg of my journey. And, if I'm really, brutally honest, I've tried to be so many things to so many people for so long, that I think I've lost sight of the things I do, and the things I don't do. 

But I'll take a step forward, towards discovering, being honest, and experiencing freedom. 

So, here we go...

Things I "Do":

I do love my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and I want to be more and more like Him. I try to devote my life to following Him, as much as I possibly can. I still struggle with things like daily devotions, consistent and personal prayer (although I love to pray for others, any chance I get), tithing (which I'm getting much better at), and probably other things. But I'm committed to learning and growing in my relationship with Him. 

I do music. I love making music with others, especially in worship settings. Music ministers to my heart in a way that nothing else can. I find an immense freedom in being able to lift my voice in song or sit at the piano and create melodies, completely unstructured and raw. I am so thankful that God gave me this beautiful and special gift. 

I do love writing. Blogging over the past month has been an incredible outlet of self-discovery and self-expression for me. I've fallen back in love with it. As a child, I loved reading and writing poetry, which I imagine is fueled by my love of music. As an adult, I have recently discovered journaling and blogging to be a large part of how I process and digest information. 

I do love people. Despite my raging introverted personality, I just love being around people, particularly friends and family. I've discovered in my ministry that I love working with nursery and elementary aged children. I am fascinated by how they learn and grow, and I long to see them "just be kids" in a world that demands their maturity to expedite long before it ever should. And, because I work with at-risk kids, I see the need for all this to take place in a safe and nurturing environment. 

I do love my family, so very much. I've discovered especially how much I love my family, as I've spent the past four years living a few thousand miles away from them. I deeply miss the physical connection of having them close by. Despite difficulties, differing personalities, and maybe even heartbreaks, my family has my back, even when I've made poor choices, or when I've not always reciprocated that same support. Being part of the "Family of God" has taught me the importance of reciprocating that love and support, unconditionally, just as my many "adopted families" have done that for me. 

I do advocate discipleship, as Christians. I believe very strongly in the importance of strengthening the Body of Christ, so that we can be equipped to reach those in the world who are still lost and without hope. 

I do value quality time with others, deeply. I value the heart connections with others, the deeper questions and thoughts, sometimes shared over coffee, or across a desk, or at the altar on a Sunday morning. I feel honored when I get to come along side somebody, and walk their journey with them. Sometimes I ask the tough questions. Sometimes I listen. Sometimes I give an abundance of hugs and kisses on the cheek. But I love every part of this gift that God has given me. Even as I type those words, I feel my heart beat faster, and that affirms that this deep passion I possess.   

Things I Don't Do:

I don't do finances well. I never have. I am getting a little better at it, learning to budget better, practicing the discipline of tithing, and learning to be a better steward of what God provides for me. It's a work in progress, that will probably never be perfect. But it's a work in progress. 

I don't do balance well. I am extremely goal-oriented, and I can develop a singular focus on tasks pretty quickly. That works to my advantage when I have a project at hand that demands my full focused attention; but there is a disadvantage when it leads to my neglect of everything else around me. Again, it's a work in progress. I've had some great support from my officers on how to tackle some of these challenges, like using a calendar and setting reminders for myself. 

I don't do clean well. I just don't. I've always been a pretty untidy individual. That being said, as an adult, I have discovered how much my stress level goes up when my bedroom and my office (two places where I spend a lot of time) get out of control (tornado-level damage). Living with a roommate for the past few years has really helped me to get into cleaner practices, like keeping common areas clean, and washing my dishes consistently. To many, that's a natural bend...not so much for me. It takes some work for me. 

I don't do confrontation or approaching hard things well. Somewhere along the way of my life, I have developed an unhealthy habit of avoidance. I'm very happy to say that I'm getting better at changing this habit. It's hard, very hard. And it will never come naturally to me. But I want to be able to approach the tough stuff of life, rather than avoid it, with grace. 

I don't do being teachable well. I'm a naturally stubborn gal, and I really enjoy being right. But I am so very thankful for those in my life who have taught me to have a attitude of "teachability" (my dictionary is telling me that this is not technically a word, so I'm making it one.),d and have stuck around, even when I fought back tooth-and-nail. Because, despite how much I'd like to think I'm always right...turns out I'm not! :-) So I pray constantly for God to help me to remain teachable, to learn and grow. 

I don't do happy-go-lucky. I love to laugh, and I love to smile, but because of my melancholy and deep-thinking nature, it's not always a natural thing for me. So I tend to gravitate towards those who are a little more light-hearted and happy-go-lucky. Those special people in my life help me not to look at life so completely serious all the time. Many of them still love and admire my tender and deep heart; but they also remind me to live in the light a little, too. :-)

Wow. I'm not gonna lie. I do feel a real sense of freedom in releasing some of those things. Isn't it amazing how much freedom can be experienced, when you realize that you're not perfect? It doesn't mean that I ignore the things that I don't do, or that I only focus on the things I do. I just allow myself to live in that place of imperfect progress (just get used to the fact that you will see those two little words showing up a LOT in my blog!). 

And here's something I've discovered through this entry. Not everything comes naturally to me. There are things that are not my forte...but they're someone else's forte! Why have I spent all this time thinking that I have to be everything to everybody, when there are those in my life who have so much to offer to the world, as well? I'm sorry if that seems like a "duh" moment to many of you, but for me, this is a pretty huge revelation, and I know that it would be the same for many other people-pleasing be-everything-to-everybody individuals just like me. 

I am so thankful to God for wisdom, in this moment. And I'm thankful for the people He puts in my life, including authors like Shauna Niequist, who help me get outside my familiar ways of thinking, and see different perspectives. 

I'm telling you, friends: If you're going through a similar journey to myself, and you haven't picked up Niequist's book, Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way, I would highly recommend that you do. 

Blessings. 




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On Facing The Inevitable...

From Friends, Season 2, Episode 16
The One Where Joey Moves Out
One of my favorite moments of this show,
that "hits me in the feels", every time!

It appears that I brought back a lovely little bug from camp, and ended up spending Tuesday in bed, sleeping off and on throughout the day. Being without a voice, I have taken many opportunities to read and write. After finishing Shauna Niequist's Bread & Wine, I noticed that she had written another book entitled Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way. Let me tell you, I know that Shauna Niequist did not write this book specifically for me; but oh, how God is using her writing to minister to my heart, as I've begun this season of "lasts", here in Oklahoma. This particular passage, from her chapter, The Closer You Get, is really speaking to me: 

"How many nights did we spend on Annette's upstairs porch, watching the light fade, listening to the barking dogs in the distance? How many times did we go to the Real Food Café? And how many times did she order her toast dry, and then ask for butter? How many late nights in South Haven or Saugatuck, how many mornings at Uncommon Grounds? How many times did we deliver dinner back and forth, or maternity clothes or baby clothes or maybe-it-will-fit-you-but-it-doesn't-fit-me clothes? How many times did we walk back and forth from Paris, along Hoyt, across Madison, and over to Aurora?

Of all the things, of all the thousands of memories and snapshots of our lives together, from college to trips to weddings to the last three years in Grand Rapids, there is one thing that rises above everything else like a siren, like a smoke signal. It's this: the closer you get, the closer you get. I didn't always know how to open myself deeply. Moving to Grand Rapids, a town that was tricky for me for all sorts of reasons, and the fear and the loneliness of it, snapped my heart shut like a drum.

And then Annette and Andrew moved across the country and into our neighborhood and day by day, phone call by phone call, breakfast by breakfast, Annette taught me that the closer you get, the closer you get. That when you allow someone past all those doors you were taught to keep closed, what you find behind those doors is a kind of friendship I didn't even have a category for. I've spent most of my life and most of my friendships holding my breath and hoping that when people get close enough they won't leave, and fearing that it's a matter of time before they figure me out and go.

 And every time I told Annette the truth, or asked for something difficult, or opened a scary conversation, when I thought she would back away, she walked forward. And by walking forward, she changed me, and now, everywhere I go, everywhere life takes me, I'll be looking for this, for this kind of friendship that my dear friend Annette taught me." 

 I read those words, and I let them sink for a second. And then I felt the emotion come to the surface. The thought of those goodbyes. Those last hugs shared with friends like this, friends who have helped me to open my heart, to get closer, to share the deeper recesses of my heart, to risk, and to discover that they didn't leave when I did. I felt my breath leave my body for a moment. I didn't want to feel that, and yet, I knew that it was necessary to feel those things. With the ending of this season comes a bit of grieving, and being a person who spent so much of her life stifling the tough emotions that she didn't want to deal with, I have to allow myself to grieve the changing of these beautiful friendships I've made in Arkansas and Oklahoma. Not ending. Just changing, with some distance in between us.   

 But it's hard. It's so very, very hard. It's easy to feel the good emotions, the joy, the excitement, although I even struggled with feeling those. But the joy, the excitement of being with my family again? I'm getting used to feeling those feelings. And it's good. 

 But lately, I've struggled to feel the harder emotions. Surprisingly, I've not wanted people to express how much they're going to miss me. You know something? It just might be that, if I allow people to express those feelings, and if I feel them right alongside of them, it becomes real. With just four months to go before I move back to Canada, it has to become real. 

 Being an INFJ (Introverted Intuitive Feeling Judging - Sometimes the Judging changes to Perceiving), I'm a person who feels emotions extremely deeply, and if I stay in my emotions too long, it becomes unhealthy, and I don't move on. But, on the flipside, if I go to the other extreme, and I don't feel emotions at all, it becomes equally unhealthy for me. I find other things to help distract me from working through the tough stuff, the "what ifs", the tears, the anger, the grieving. If I'm honest, that's what got me into trouble with my eating, or overeating, rather. I'm now learning how to cope with these emotions in a healthy way. It's not perfect, just yet, but I'm making imperfect progress, as I've heard many say. 

 So, for the moment? I press on. I trust God to show me how to feel these emotions without dwelling and becoming too comfortable in them. When I start to think about those so very dear to my heart, here in Arkansas and Oklahoma, whom I will soon be separated from by distance, think about embracing them for the last time for a long time, I pray that I will let the knot in my stomach come, the very real ache in my heart sting, and that I let the tears come. I pray that I will feel those emotions for a moment, acknowledge them, realize that this is part of my journey, and that it shall pass. Then, I pray that I shall move on, and remain present in my ministry, in my moving preparations, and in my day-to-day life, throughout these next four months. 

 Pray for me. While I have a beautiful support system gathered around me during this season, there are some moments that I need to walk through alone, at least on earth. 

 Father, help me to remember that You walk beside me, that You see each tear that falls, hear every sob from my throat, feel every knot in my stomach and ache in my heart. Remind me, often, that You are with me. 

 Blessings.
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