Snapshots of Christmastime

Christmas Retreat with Summer Staff 

The Most Magical Place to Spend a Christmas Retreat 

Gift Swap with Lovely Friends on the Eve of Christmas Eve {New Tradition}

Breakfast on Christmas Morning with Dad and Brother {New Tradition}

Christmas Day with the Newest Local 

Good News of Great Joy

Without realizing it, Christmastime reminds me of what I have lost.

Each year I hope I won't be sad about the divorce-- but that's not the reality

It's been about 4 years. Although the grief of it is not a constant fixture in my life, and our "new normal" feels more normal than it did 4 years ago, there is still room to feel the loss.

I think about my Aunt and Uncle, who for the first time will experience Christmas without their son. The bleakness of that tragedy is still present. And they might not ever feel like they use to again.

But the Holidays are suppose to be filled with comfort and joy, presents and Christmas trees, hot coco and warm cider. 

When I was younger, I saw it as my family's lack of perfection.

We didn't look like the other families at the Christmas Eve service, and that was my measuring stick.

It was painful for me but the reality is no one's family is perfect.

Through the loss of my cousin, I have seen this Christmas with more freshness than ever before.

I use the word "fresh" because the reality of the birth of Christ resonates on a different level than before.

The "good news of great joy" is that Jesus was born to give us eternal life. 

We know that. If you've ever been to church, you've heard that. 

But the lens of loss makes that truth more desiring.

I long for restoration for myself and my family. 

I still get upset about having two Christmases and two separate families

I feel sad about our "new normal"-- even if it's been that way for a while now.

The other day, a friend quoted an author named Wendell Berry (I haven't read anything by him/ don't know anything about him but I love his quote) that said, "It gets darker and darker, and then Jesus is born." We know we need Jesus because of the darkness here on earth. 

I also love the Jesus Storybook Bible's interpretation of Luke 2. It says: 

"This baby would be like a bright star shining in the sky that night. A Light to light up the whole world. Chasing away darkness. Helping people see. 

And the darker the night got, the brighter the star would shine."

That is the "good news of great joy"--we are not left in the darkness. 

Thank you God for Your Bright Star chasing away darkness and helping us see. 

Something to Share

My dear friends, who happen to be amazing counselors and authors, have launched a parenting website and blog! I am so very excited. Even if you don't have children it's worth the read.

During my freshman year of college, I went to one of their parenting talks-- probably one of the few present without children-- and sat there with tears in my eyes the entire time. Their insight touched me deeply. It is very relevant and applicable.

So drop on by. Here's the link:
http://www.raisingboysandgirls.com/

For Gray

The Lord is always working and preparing hearts.
It brings tears to my eyes thinking about the events of the past week, and seeing how the Lord was beside me before I knew I needed him.

Last week, on Thanksgiving Day, my cousin Gray passed away. It was unexpected and shocking for my entire family. He was 16 years old-- humble, adventurous, and rooted in Jesus.

Looking back on this week, the days feel hazy and heavy. Grief is a gripping thing. It comes in waves-- some moments feel surrounded by sadness, others are filled with joy. It's strange to fluctuate between the two extremes. One moment we were laughing about memories, gathered with the entire family. Then the next we were holding each other crying, missing the one who was gone.

But I know this... I have experienced Jesus' great love more this week than I have in a long time.
Jesus used Gray to remind me of the promise we have in Christ.

It's a promise that our sinless Savior died so that we can live eternally. It's a promise that all our deepest longings are met in Jesus. It's a promise that we will be fully restored in heaven and all our tears will be wiped away.

Thank You Jesus.
Thank You that this world is not our home.

"When Satan tempts me to despair, and tells me of the guilt within,

Upward I look and see Him there Who made an end to all my sin.

Because the sinless Savior died, my sinful soul is counted free;

For God, the Just, is satisfied to look on Him and pardon me."

{Before the Throne of God, Hymn}

We sang this hymn at the funeral, and I cannot stop thinking about this specific part. 

What a beautiful image, and what a beautiful truth.

I love the visual of looking up and seeing Jesus while we are feeling tempted by Satan. 

Such relief-- we cannot be brought to "despair."

Because of this, we continue to grieve with hope.

We deeply mourn our loss but never forget that Jesus has rescued us.

Gray, 

I love you very much. I am thankful to be your cousin.

I am proud of the man you became here on earth. Your faith was strong and true. 

You are Home now. 

Thanksgiving Preparation

I love being back home for thanksgiving. It is filled with warm familiar faces, laughter that holds hope, and people that soften my heart. I am so bonded to the people at home because we have endured life together-- long, sad seasons and light-hearted, joyful moments. It takes both.

One of my favorite places to return is a little yellow house. Each thanksgiving it opens its doors for an event called soup night to all of us who return home. 

Last night at soup night, one of my friends was sharing about how the opposite of anxiety is thanksgiving. She was saying that it is natural to think about your day in lists. I make lists about what tasks needs to be accomplished or what is bothering me or who I should worry about. It sounds funny to write out but the ritual sneaks in subconsciously, and before I realize it I feel anxious. Then she said if we replace those anxieties with thanksgivings it becomes a more productive, life-giving list.

Since I've been wrestling with thanksgiving this year more than ever, I decided that in order to prepare for it, on the eve of thanksgiving, I would write a new list.

I want to dwell on scripture that speak about true thanksgiving. Here are a few I am thinking on...

 "If I'm sleepless at midnight, I spend hours in grateful reflection. Because you've always stood up for me, I'm free to run and play. I hold on to you for dear life, and you hold me as a steady post."

{Psalms 63: 6-8, The Message}

"Thanksgivings will pour out of the windows; laughter will spill through the doors. Things will get better and better. Depression days are over. They'll thrive, they'll flourish. The days of contempt will be over."

{Jeremiah 30:19, The Message}

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petitions, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

{Philippians 4:6-7, NIV}

Giving & Receiving Grace

It's very difficult for me to give grace to myself and to others
But I'm learning... slowly but surely
I found out this week that it is even harder to ask for grace.
Somehow I need to learn this one as well.

Asking for grace puts you in an vulnerable position.
It feels like begging on your knees in front of the person.
Asking for grace is saying, "I'm a mess and I'm trying but I'm still not getting it right."

That was this week for me-- mess up, try again, mess up again.
Repeat the cycle.
I'm just so human sometimes.

I had to ask for grace today because I struggle with being a people-pleaser. This isn't breaking news to me; it feels like I've always been this way. But I was hoping that I had left it back in high school.

So it's still here, and I've been pretty frustrated with it lately. When my goal is to please people it means I end up holding their faults against them instead of practicing forgiveness. And that does not leave any room for grace to enter.

The ironic thing about grace is that you give as much to others as you give to yourself.

This week I was not giving myself grace for struggling, which means I have not given the people around me a break... And that's exhausting for everyone involved.

Giving grace invites freedom into places of struggle.
And receiving freedom sounds so much better than striving for perfection.

"It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don’t use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that’s how freedom grows. For everything we know about God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That’s an act of true freedom."

{Galatians 5: 13-15, The Message}

Wise Words

Today, my dear friend showed me this excerpt from Anne Lamott's new book Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope, and Repair. We share a love for this lady (along with many other things).

This part really resinated with me...

"Almost everyone had at one time or another been exposed to the world as being flawed, and human. And that it was good, for the development of character and empathy, for the growth of the spirit. Periods in the wilderness or desert were not lost time. You might find life, wildflowers, fossils, sources of water.

I wish there were shortcuts to wisdom and self-knowledge: cuter abysses or three-day spa wilderness experiences. Sadly, it doesn’t work that way.

I so resent this.

The American way is to not need help, but to help. One of the hardest lessons I had to learn was that I was going to need a lot of help, and for a long time. (Even this morning.) What saved me was that I found gentle, loyal and hilarious companions, which is at the heart of meaning: maybe we don’t find a lot of answers to life’s tougher questions, but if we find a few true friends, that’s even better. They help you see who you truly are, which is not always the loveliest possible version of yourself, but then comes the greatest miracle of all—they still love you. They keep you company as perhaps you become less of a whiny baby, if you accept their help. And that is so much easier said than done."

{Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope, and Repair, Anne Lamott}

Open Hands

'Tis the season to "give thanks"
It's time to start thankful lists and journals and notes and paintings... etc.
But I'm going to be honest here: I feel bitter towards the idea of giving thanks.
Oops.

So where does that put me in the month of November? I'm not really sure.
I know thanksgiving is an important part of walking alongside Jesus-- it's good for me to give back to the One who gave me so much. But I still have a messy life on my hands so I feel reluctant to do that.

Around my sweet college town, messes are not generally acceptable. Really hard and yucky things are often tied up with a ribbon of thanksgiving. I often see my dear friends crying about a frustrating, awful situation in their life. But then they wipe their tears and say something along the lines of "But I shouldn't be upset. I have a good life and I'm really thankful for (fill in the blank)."

It is so scary to be honest and say "this situation hurts and it's hard to find good in it". I've found a lot of freedom in not having to always find the lovely bright side in a dumpy circumstance.

But walking around in bitterness can be harmful to yourself.
I already feel my bitterness developing into cynicism-- and I don't want that.
The balance between cynicism and optimism, which feels more like walking in tension, is hope.

Real hope is not a silver lining. It does not discount your sadness, loneliness, anger, abandonment, etc.
Real hope carves joy into your sorrow.

It's a really strange (maybe miraculous) thing to still be deeply saddened but find hope in the Healer of everything.

It's the Healer that brings the hope.

So when the thanksgiving paraphernalia increases (because we're only a couple days into November), I need to remember that being grateful does not mean discounting my difficult season. It means opening my hands to hope.

"Thankfulness isn't a matter of forcing yourself to see the happy side of life. 

That would be like returning to naive optimism.

Thanking God restores the natural order of our dependence on God.

It enables us to see life as it really is."

{Paul E. Miller, A Praying Life}

Season of Refining

It's been one of those weeks where I have deliberately chosen not be with Jesus. I do this sometimes, and when I do I know it's because I feel an internal stirring. And when Jesus is stirring inside of me, urging me to listen, sometimes it's too hard to turn my ear to Him. I build up an idea that something terrible might emerge from "the talk"-- and that's why I chose to run from Him for a couple days.

But He always pulls me back.
It's a bit scary at first but then I finally sit down and ask, "alright, Jesus, what is it?"

I am always so surprised with how tenderly he treats me in my return. He does not scold me for not coming quicker, and he does not tell me how awful I am for running away.

Jesus treats me with tenderness.

So here I am, trying to be open, and what He tells me is not exactly happy and rosy. And a lot of times it's not easy because He is making us in the image of Christ. But the words are never harsh or cruel-- we are still His children.

What in the world did Jesus finally open my eyes to?
That I think I know better than other people. I like to believe that I have the best idea of what morality, kindness, my future, etc. all look like. If I believe that about myself, not only does that make me judgmental towards other people but it also puts me as my own savior.... Yikes.

That is not a place I want to be... but here I am.
And when I finally see the little mess I've created, I know that I need Jesus.

I keep remembering the image of being refined (talked about in Daniel and 1 Peter). The process of refining gold is painful-- it is actually placed in the fire. But once it comes out of the fire, and is even more beautiful, it is proved to be gold. All these messes in our life, whether they are self-created or inflicted upon us, are refining us. That's what is happening in our faith: our trails and suffering are like the fire, and our faith is being proved genuine. All to display the glory of God.

"I know how great this makes your feel, 

and even though you have put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. 

Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; 

genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine. 

When Jesus wraps this all up, it's your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of his victory."

{1 Peter 1:6-7, The Message}

I'm thankful for the promise that trails are not in vain. Jesus is refining us for something much bigger (and more wonderful) than earthly victory. 

Snapshots of October

weddings with {the absolute best} summer staff

formal with my {one-of-a-kind} roommates 

formal with my {favorite} date 

trips to the sunflower fields with {the dearest} friends 

And cheers to turning 21 {can't even believe it}

Truthful Words

"Most of us figure out by a certain age-- some of us later than others-- that life unspools in cycles, some lovely, some painful, but in no predictable order. So you could have lovely, painful, and painful again, which I think we all agree is not at all fair. You don't have to like it, and you are always welcome to file a brief with the Complaints Department. But if you've been around for a while, you know that much of the time, if you are patient and are paying attention, you will see that God will restore what the locusts have taken away."

{Help, Thanks, Wow by Anne Lamott}

"I will restore to you the years the swarming locust have eaten..."

{Joel 2:25 ESV}

Unforced Rhythms of Grace

So what is this blog really all about?

To be completely honest, I do not have a clue.

I have always had an itch to start a blog-- maybe it's because I like to write or (most likely) because I like to think and think. I guess this blog is a thinking ground. A place to ponder about what the Lord is doing (and why in the world He is not doing exactly what I want).

That's the thing, He really is not following my set of ideas. Some days I'm upset by that because life can be a mess. One big wreck-- and there is really no point to sugar coat that. If it was not that way, we would not need Jesus.

So the deal is being a mess really allows God to work. You have to smash the pot in order for His light to shine through. For me that's learning the "unforced rhythms of grace". In my life that means not trying to make everything better. It is about letting go, which is an extremely hard task. I particularly like being control of my life and value how other people see me.

Unforced rhythms of grace mean being honest about your life-- it's not so lovely when you take a closer look. Mine is filled with doctor's appointments, dealing with a chronic illness, having divorced parents, and all the many tasks that come with being a college student.

Are you bummed out?
Yeah me too...
But then something truly amazing happens.

God does not leave you in that muck. He redeems and restores you and your situations in amazing ways. I'm not trying to smack a Jesus band-aid on really nasty situations because it is not an easy process. And a lot of times, you move on from something hard and then another crazy thing comes along. It makes you want to throw your hands in the air, and give up.

And maybe that is what we're suppose to do...
Throw our hands in the air, and give up.
If we stop working so hard to fix our mess, then Jesus can come in and transform it.

I kind of feel like I'm preaching to the vast blog world... and I'm not trying to do that. I'm currently in messy situations, and I have no idea how the Lord will change that. But I am waiting and trying to give myself grace in the midst of this season. That's really why I am writing. I am hoping to gain a better understanding of what in the world Jesus is doing.