The Choice to Choose

 

 It’s 4:42 am and I’ve been awake for an hour and forty minutes. My mind is planning, thinking, wishing, fearing, and running. All things it somehow couldn’t resist doing at this hour.My brain forgets this is the time where it is supposed to stop running and rest for a bit. I guess it can be stubborn too. So much goes through my head at this hour. I think of all the things I haven’t done yet, everything I will still procrastinate tomorrow; everything I could never accomplish; and lately, everything I’m not. Somehow fear seeps in, unnoticed, and plays tricks on me. Fear likes to tell me everything I’m not. I hate that my mind is eager to listen at 4:48 in the morning. 

 

I guess early mornings bring honesty, the kind you really want to hate. The honest feelings you alleviate during the day, but in your stillness they’re effervescent. My honest feeling is that I don’t feel chosen. I constantly battle the thought that, I am the exception, to this or that. That although freedom and healing happened for the woman next to me…I’m positive it will skipover me without a second glance. I assume I’m not chosen for that promise. I overlook the fact that some part of me knows I have a choice to choose where my life is going, but that thought gets overwhelmed in one breath. How do we activate our ‘choice muscle’ when that skill has completely atrophied from lack of use? I guess (painfully) we get our butts into physical therapy and start the hard work of choosing. Choosing others.Choosing joy. Choosing life. Choosing to see that you have a choice in life. Choosing to be chosen.

 

While I recently chose to pursue a major life decision, I struggle daily with two clashing lives that vie for my attention and gaze. One is the current life I am living and one is the life I hope to live. I have become aware that I can’t get to the life I want by living the way I am now. It has become so obvious.They oppose each other and can’t co-exist. So I must choose. 

 

To you, as a reader, this might sound crazy, however, I often think of my future children and what they will be like, particularly, my daughter. I have had dreams and visions of holding her and speaking life over her. One of the biggest desires in my heart is to be a momma and show my babies the love of Jesus. While driving one day it was extremely clear to me I would not have a life that included her if I chose to continue in my behaviors and thoughts the way they are now. It was her or my addictions. In that moment I was overwhelmed with love for her that permeated every facet of my fears and trampled over every lie. I vowed to never leave room for the enemy to tell her she isn’t chosen. I made a very raw, conscious, and truthfully painful choice to choose her despite not knowing her. Over every fear, lie, broken expectation, painful memory, and compulsion; I WILL CHOOSE HER.  

 

Isn’t that what Jesus did for us? He didn’t know me, yet He chose me. He didn’t know you, yet He chose you. He had to make a choice; one that I can guarantee wasn’t easy. He chose the painful and conscious decision to die a torturous death so one day he could tell you and I… “I chose you before I knew you”. 

 

“But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light.” 1 Peter 2:9

 

 

How majestic. How beautiful. How poetic is our God? It amazes me that He will use our dreams and desires to help us make a difficult choice a little bit nicer. He’s nice.

 

Because I have chosen to make a life-altering choice I will, one day, see a dream fulfilled. I have forever made a promise to a dream placed in my heart that, in the future, I will hold my baby girl and tell her over and over again how I chose her before I knew her. 

 

As the sun is now rising, I am accepting that I am chosen. Today holds choices that I get to make and opportunities to walk toward my dream. It doesn’t mean the pain is less, burdens less heavy, or the choices easier, however, I can hold onto a promise that I know will be worth it. Baby girl, I’m choosing you. I choose life. I choose the future. I choose to trust God. One day at a time.

Swimming in Surrender

Everything is quiet today. My mind isn’t screaming, my heart not racing, my feelings not forgotten, and my heart not exasperated. It is just quiet. Dare I say it is even still?

This is a vast change considering only two nights ago I was lying in bed, unable to sleep or lay still, and every sound was ear-piercing and felt chaotic. I even entertained the thought that the cars on the nearby highway were coming straight for me. My mind and body were anything but quiet. I haven’t sat in stillness in months because my fear and thoughts instantaneously take over and appear to have full control. It is hard to live in this state of being. Actually, impossible. It becomes hard to make any decision. It’s even hard to breathe.

“For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”  (2 Timothy 1:7)

Sometimes I hate this verse simply because I don’t understand it. Or I feel forgotten. That I can’t shake the spirit of fear in me or get it out of my head. Like an annoying earworm. You know, when you keep singing the AutoZone jingle or Full House theme song. Sometimes I convince myself God forgot about me and ‘just happened’ to give me the spirit of fear. A mistake he can’t take credit for….or correct. However, when I actually listen to this verse, I realize, I too, get to have the spirit of a sound mind.

Today, I chose to procrastinate my To-Do List, grab a book, and lay out by the pool. Almost immediately I felt peaceful and quiet. There was no one else by the pool, no music, no sounds of construction…..just me, the water, and Anne Lamott (one of my favorite writers). By the time I realized I was melting in the Southern California heat, I found myself already submerged in the pool. As I let the water rise over my head, I could feel the crispness and hear the deafening silence water holds as it finds every inch of you. Everything around me and inside me became quiet. I was weightless. I could breathe again!  I found comfort in swimming along the bottom; as if I was 8 years old again pretending to be the most colorful fish in the ocean. I felt like I had found out a secret I was never suppose to know: that the enemy is afraid of water. I could see the sun shining through the water and felt invincible moving through its rays. I was effortlessly moving again and the enemy couldn’t catch up. I was swimming in union with God, my body, and receiving a sound mind.

It’s easy for me to stop writing when I feel like I have nothing to say, nonetheless, nothing good to say. Maybe you feel the same way? I think we might be wrong. There is always something that needs to be said in your soul, it is just the way you express it that might look a little different. Today I got to express what my soul has been screaming, and it came in the form of swimming. I now get to write about something because I let God take me somewhere. I let him show me something where I wasn’t expecting anything. And as he breathed for me, I found peace, comfort, stillness, and light. Let him hold your breath for you a bit.

When Hope Waits

 While I’m thinking how to start this blog, I’m contemplating how honest I want to be with you. I could write a really uplifting story on how beautiful my relationship with Jesus is, how everything in my life is falling into place, or how awesome it is to be 25 and living in Los Angeles. However, all you would see on your screen are masked, empty words. So, maybe I’ll be honest with you, despite how I fear it will make me sound. After all, if we choose to write, we must write about what matters or what’s the point?

Ernest Hemingway wrote one of the most beautiful, soul-wrenching, provocative quotes I may have ever read. “Write hard and clear about what hurts.” It is that simple. It is that dense. How do we write hard when we can barely whisper words to speak? How do we write clear when it seems every thought is entwined with a lie? How do we write about what hurts when that honestly feels like every fiber of our being? Well…you put your big girl panties on, (maybe grab a cup of coffee), and do it anyway. Do the very thing you don’t want to do. The thing you don’t want to acknowledge. The thing you hoped would leave your mind months ago but you’re still thinking about. The thing that hurts.
Last December I became reawakened to the word, “Lament”, and this word followed me everywhere for a week straight. I heard it in songs, in speeches, in conversations, in books, you name it. Over time I forgot what depth the small word held. Lament: A passionate expression of grief or sorrow. This accurately described that week for me, or perhaps, most weeks since December. I then thought of the book in the Bible, Lamentations, and knew there was obviously a connection. But, let’s be honest… I’ve never read through Lamentations. And I wasn’t about to start now. Especially knowing it was sure to include grief or sorrow.

I felt God nudging me to read it and of course I did the exact opposite. I avoided this part of the Bible like a plague. I was afraid it would only heighten my level of pain and why would I actively seek that? Well 5 months went by until I finally gave in. Want to guess what Lamentations is full of? Pain, grief, and sorrow. Want to know what else Lamentations is full of? Jesus, perspective, and hope.

“I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed. I remember it all—oh, how well I remember— the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope.” -Lamentations 3:19-21 (MSG)
While listening to Lamentations 3, I realized I was hearing my personal story, my personal pain, and very personal hope. Crap. God was right.

I desperately need hope. Hopelessness is daunting and a feeling you can’t magically decide not to feel. I wish it were that easy. Hopelessness brings loneliness, fear and very real shame. It thrives in your shadows and disrupts every forward step you take, locking you in a frozen state. It tells you your situation will never change, you might as well give up now, and hope is for everyone else….except you.
Sweet friend, sometimes you have to wait for hope. I was completely unaware of this truth. I thought if I prayed hard enough and long enough, God was sure to provide it. I prayed A LOT for hope. I still pray A LOT for hope, because many days I feel a sense of hopelessness. But sometimes you just have to wait.

“God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits, to the woman who diligently seeks. It’s a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from God.
It’s a good thing when you’re young to stick it out through the hard times. When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions: Wait for hope to appear. Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face. The “worst” is never the worst.” – Lamentations 3:25-30 (MSG)

This is definitely not what I want to hear, but that doesn’t make it less true. Hope is real and it is for you. Hope isn’t manufactured or ordinary, but tailored perfectly to your specific beating heart. I know it is hard to wait for hope…especially when days turn to weeks, weeks to months, or even months to years. But it is coming! I promise you, and better yet, Jesus promises you.

Waiting for anything pretty much sucks. Let’s be real. Waiting 1 microwave minute seems like eternity and when it is hope you’re waiting for…well, all I can tell you is that I understand the pain and frustration. I am lamenting with you. I am in this with you.

As I type, I am still waiting. However, I am choosing to write hard and clear about what is hurting. Waiting hurts but hope is worth it. Jesus is worth it. Wanna stick it out with me?

Always,
Chrissy

Plain Jane



Let’s be honest with each other. Being a woman in 2015 is devastatingly hard and awesomely lovely. Yes, awesomely is a word. As women, we are expected to portray beauty in countless different ways; and there are countless different ways beauty is portrayed. So why is it that we tend to prioritize our physical beauty more than any other part? More than our unique spirit, our mind, and more than the beautiful intellect that follows an experienced heart. Is it because we are secretly still thinking if our body was perfectly toned, face perfectly pore less, hair perfectly colored, and clothes perfectly fashionable that we will like ourselves more…..which will sequentially make others like us more? I’m guilty of thinking this.

I just heard (as I’m writing this article) that it is International Women’s Day today! I am aware that by the time you have read this blog, this notable day has long passed. However, can we decide to live everyday as if it is International Women’s Day together? Okay GREAT! In honor of this day I must say one of my favorite, most inspiring woman is a fictional one. She is confident, curious, rebellious, gentle, and very… plain. She does not depict outward beauty in any way. She is not your typical heroine. She is Jane Eyre.
I have become quite obsessed with this bare, yet enticingly beautiful woman. She is strong. She fights for others, and just as hard for herself. She is passionate and fierce. The depth in which she feels pain is strangely attractive. She isn’t afraid of pain; she embraces it when it comes and releases it when it is time for it to go. She knows that she isn’t externally beautiful and doesn’t care one bit. She is more concerned with her intellect, her spirit, and her values of staying true to what she believes. Jane Eyre is anything but plain. The way she saw beauty in others is how I see beauty in her. Jane describes a friend of hers like this.

“…a beauty neither of fine colour nor long eyelash, nor penciled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of radiance. Then her soul sat on her lips, and language flowed, from what source I cannot tell…”

Jane knew how to find beauty in others and she knew how to be beautiful in her own skin. She knew how to delight in herself no matter what her body looked like. Now that is a woman to acknowledge, fictional or not!

I have found two books that hold so much written beauty and force that the words attach themselves to my being. The part of my core that is unseen and untouched. The book I have been talking about, Jane Eyre, and The Bible. (I have literally carried Jane Eyre with me in my purse for the last 3 months. And The Bible…well y’all know there’s an app for that, so of course it goes with me!)

These books bring out the texture of the words they encompass. These books help label what we deem as beautiful.

So how can we learn to be content, even happy, with ourselves no matter what we look like? There is one verse in particular that has recently found a little nest in my heart. Zephaniah 3:17 says,

“For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.”

A dear friend of mine helped me realize that God delights in every part of us! EVERY part! He delights in our bodies, our mind, our dreams, our passions, and our weird little quirks. He delights in us when we are exotic and when we are plain looking. When we are young and chase fearlessly and when we are old and give fearlessly. He delights in you with gladness my friend! No matter what you weigh, how many blackheads are on your nose, how many $$ are in your bank account, or if your perfume of choice has gone from Chanel to La Babie (Heyyy Yo Mommas!) HE WILL REJOICE OVER YOU WITH JOYFUL SONGS!

It is devastatingly hard and awesomely lovely to be a woman. This shift from hard to lovely can happen in a matter of seconds, thousands of times a day…but we have the power to choose what makes us lovely. Together, can we choose to use our actions, creative mind, and voice to portray beauty rather than our body? Besides, our body is nothing more than a vessel that carries all the immaculate artwork that is within us. Delight in all that you are just as our sweet heavenly Father does.

Perhaps we could start to delight in the things a surgeon cannot change; the fierce and powerful spirit that is within each one of us.

With final words from Jane Eyre, “Next day new steps were to be taken: my plans could no longer be confined to my own breast; I must impart them in order to achieve their success.” ~Jane Eyre
Always, Chrissy Woodward

{Picture from: http://www.kasamba.com}
Instagram: @chrissylorenna

The Loudest Silence

Sometimes I take for granted the people I have in my life. Sometimes I just forget how great they are because I get accustomed to their encouragement and loyalty, especially those closest to me. My parents, who have supported every imaginative dream and crazy whim this life has taken me on thus far. My brothers, who love to pick on me, yet, secretly I know love me and spoil me in a way only brothers know how to do. My sweet Gommy (grandma), whose comforting words find rest in a heart thousands of miles away. Her fierce heart and strength push me to never settle….for anything… no matter what. My friends, who know when it’s time to sit in the pain with me; when it is time to lend me a hand; when it is time to challenge me further; or when it is time to simply dance it out. I take all of this for granted and I forget it could simply be gone in a split second.

January 14, 2015 marked four years of my Boppy’s (grandpa) passing. This year I found myself getting extremely emotional and desperately wishing he was here. About a week before this day I had a dream I saw my grandpa and immediately embraced him, full of tears. Through my tear soaked face he whispered to me, “Are you doing anything inspiring with your life?”

Boppy was the grandpa who loved expressing how proud he was of us “kids” and never let an opportunity to express that pass. That is something I am so grateful for now. I woke up right after he said that, still crying, and his words were all I could think about on January 14. How badly I wanted to hear him tell me how proud of me he was and how I want my life to be inspiring for others.

“Nothing you ever will, or could do, would change that. And when you need a boost and need to hear him tell you……just close your eyes, and listen. He’ll be there for you. Nothing will ever change that….and you can count on that.”

Those are words Gommy sent me on January 14 about hearing Boppy’s voice. How sweet is it that this truth holds for our Heavenly Father as well? God is constant and we can count on him, even when we can’t hear him.
I know what it’s like to genuinely want to hear from God…expecting to hear from God…and hear nothing. Nada. Just the dang crickets chirping. I know how discouraging and hard it is to keep pressing into him, to keep coming to him with what seems to be the same problem to only continue hearing… nothing. (Maybe the third time’s a charm?) It truly makes me feel stupid. It makes me feel tired and frustrated.

Friends, I have been feeling this way for awhile. Honestly, I feel this way as I type this. My belief reminds me God is with me wherever I go (Joshua 1:9), but my brain reminds me of the silence. Both are very real. Both are very loud. The only thing I know to do right now is cling to the fact that I KNOW Jesus won’t leave me, despite my feelings.

Maybe I just need to take my grandma’s advice to close my eyes, and try listening…again. Can we make a weird screen-to-screen pact to keep listening together? If Elijah can trust that rain would soon be falling from a cloud the size of a man’s hand, perhaps I can trust through the loudest silence I’ve ever heard.

My prayer and truest, deepest hope for you today is that you know you aren’t the only one feeling the way you feel. It’s okay to feel lost, broken, frustrated, annoyed, and even angry. Jesus got angry. But, you’re not unheard. Most people, especially Christians (sorry, we know it’s true) don’t talk about the really hard feelings because it is vulnerable and awkward. However, the feelings still need to be addressed. It is easy to take for granted words you hear often, especially from those people close to you. It’s strange how we can listen to the same vocabulary for so long, yet, never seem to hear it. Perhaps, we need to learn to listen with senses other than our ears.
I hope you are encouraged to keep trying and please remember you are always inspiring someone. You might not know who that someone is at every moment, but that someone exists, and that someone is waiting for you.

May Gommy’s words provide you as much comfort and love as they continue to do for me.

“Unfocus on inspiring others….you already do that, heart….concentrate on letting your beliefs and your faith inspire YOU !!!! You have more to give in so many loving ways….just keep doing it. You are a VERY special person to all who know you, darlin’…..don’t you EVER forget that for a minute.”

Always,
Chrissy

Between the Sheets

I want to address an issue that might make you, (the reader), as uncomfortable as I, (the writer), found myself to be while typing and deleting this blog many times. I want to talk about the over-sexualization of women and specifically, how it is affecting a young woman’s ability to view herself. I realize this is an extremely broad subject that honestly deserves its own research paper, however, for the sake of this blog I must write about the one area that is tugging at my heart.

I know we have all heard the phrase, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”. While that might hold a little bit of truth for some people, one can’t deny the fact that what you may have done stays in your heart and mind (if you were coherent) wherever you may go. The same goes for how women use, abuse, and give away parts of their bodies to more-than-willing men as if they were worth nothing more than piles of dirt. Can I be honest and say, “What happens between the sheets doesn’t always stay between the sheets.” Because of the tempting sexual allure and attention from over-active provocativeness the physical and mental effects on women go far beyond what our society imagines, or cares to admit they see.

I know a handful of women who give away their bodies to man after man, almost effortlessly, and seem as though nothing affects them. Friend, I think it does affect you. Maybe not right now, but it will. Maybe you pride yourself in being strong…maybe you don’t feel much of anything and giving yourself away numbs you out, but one day I believe you will feel again. I believe you will look at yourself and see “you” for the first time….not the woman every man wanted you to be or expected you to be. Then you’ll ask, “Who am I?” When this day comes please don’t look at the media and magazines to tell you who you are because they’re flat out lying.

Our society over-sexualizes all ages of women, degrades women daily, and demands that women fit into this cultural-norm-box of perfection that even Barbie doesn’t fit into. The demand for sex is the highest it has ever been and with that comes expectations that need to be filled. Or do they? What would happen if we, women of this generation, stop giving into the demand for sex? What If we stopped believing the lies that society tells us about who we should be or how we should act? Here is where it gets a little hard for me to talk about this topic….what if we let go of the expectation we hold ourselves to when it comes to pleasing men. Because honestly, there shouldn’t be one.

Personally, I gave away different pieces of myself to different men because I thought each one of them expected me to. Even if they were kind and told me nothing was expected of me, I expected myself to be this image of beauty and desperately wanted to make them happy…even if it secretly destroyed me. I never knew how grave the consequences were to my heart from messing around with men until one of them recently moved on and got engaged. The news made me feel heartbroken, despite not being together for years. I cried…a lot. His face even haunted my dreams multiple times and I had to ask myself why was this affecting me more than it probably should of? I realized it was because there is a part of my heart that is forever entwined with his. This expectation, I had of myself, to be wanted and desirable was no longer how I could view myself. I knew I was worth more than that. Acting out with men, at the time, gave me comfort, stability and control but now I know that was all fake. My heart was searching for love and all it was receiving was lust. I needed God to feel love, not a man’s touch or sweet but always fleeting affirmations.

Our over-sexualized culture tells us that sleeping around is normal, that we will be fine the next day, and that there are no lasting consequences when it’s all fun and games. Well, I’ll tell ya, it’s not fun and games when your heart is breaking more than it’s intended to because you have felt disposable too many times to count. Or each time you secretly hated doing what you were doing but did so just to appease them. Or every time you starved yourself knowing a man would see your body, and you were taught being thin will please them more or make them stay a little longer. Friend…you don’t have to do this or think that about yourself. I give you permission to break this not so normal norm.

Whoever you are reading this, my hope for you is that you look in your heart and discover what is worth it. Discover you are worth so much more than living up to an impossible, flat out stupid expectation from an over-sexualized, disturbing culture. If your heart is breaking a little bit today, mine is breaking with you, but you can believe in yourself. You can believe you are more. I promise.

Always, Chrissy
(Photo from: http://www.dishmaps.com)

Question Mark Land

I have been avoiding writing another blog lately because…well…I haven’t felt like anything I could write would be worth reading. To be honest I have felt like I have nothing to say. At least nothing that could be encouraging or hopeful (and that is what most people want to read). But maybe that’s the point….maybe I need to be okay with not always knowing the ending. Life doesn’t always give us the answer to a problem or the ending we imagined in our heads. Somewhere along the road the punctuation mark that completed our thought or daily worry changed from a period to a question mark. Maybe question marks are actually okay.

I recently heard in a movie, “To write well, you have to write what you know.” Nowhere does it say you have to write inspirationally or perfectly; that I must have the perfect conclusion to make every paragraph flow cohesively. No.  I must simply write what I know. Right now there are a lot of things I don’t know….but there are some things I do know. Can I share with you?

First I will share what I simply do NOT know or understand (which is essentially my life). November has been hands down the toughest month for me this year. (Sorry T. Swift, life has not been a fairytale lately). It seems to be a season of internal and external change, loss, stress, pain, searching and everything seems to have a question mark by it. For someone going through the first phases of recovery change is extremely uncomfortable and let’s be real…it sucks. I want the control back. I want the security and stability I had months ago back. Everything in my life then ended in a period, it had a conclusion. That isn’t that case anymore. Every day in recovery (actually every hour) seems to end in question marks….multiple questions marks. The lack of control has made this disorder rear it’s ugly, yet so tempting, head once again. But if I was honest, in this moment, I don’t feel like I have the strength to keep going through a sea of question marks. Falling back into an old habit(s) gives me security….it gives me a conclusive answer. A period. I am finding myself desperate for that.

Now if you know me or if you have read anything else I have written you will quickly know that I love Jesus. I am passionate for him, I believe in his love, I believe in his power and I believe he is our hope. So, yes, I am aware (trust me) that the only thing I SHOULD be desperate for is Him….his perfect grace. Yet, somehow I lost that desperation over the last month. What do you do when you know everything you believe in, yet can’t seem to believe it for yourself? When you know there is hope after a season of pain, but in all honesty, you really can’t see it and feel like you might be the exception? Is that just part of being human? Being a Christian is really hard when you know how to get out of a situation yet can’t get out of that situation no matter how hard you try. Trust me….I’m trying. Maybe that is why I haven’t been wanting to write to y’all…I feel like an inadequate Christian. As if someone’s salvation or view of God is determined by my ability to get through a situation perfectly. Don’t get me wrong, people do take note of how you handle circumstances and understanding that is important, but they also notice your vulnerability and willingness to simply be human. To show your mistakes and areas you’re lacking in. Being a human being is really hard sometimes. I get it.

So I don’t know the answers to all of the questions above and the areas of my life that are living in question mark land, however, I do know a few unwavering things. First of all, I know that pain is real. No amount of me pushing feelings away or pretending I’m fine can buffer the pain that will eventually surface. If you cry it’s real and if it’s real it hurts. That sucks….but it is necessary.  The pain of different issues that are now begging to be felt go deeper than imagined. Like a strong Oak Tree with roots that reach the center of the Earth. But maybe God allows the pain to go deeper and deeper so he can bring us higher and higher. Just a thought. I know the feeling of emptiness is alarmingly seductive. Contrary, I know that God’s word says in Romans 15:13,

“That I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.”

I also know that ended in a period. There is no question mark there. I know that God graciously and thoughtfully gives us people. People (safe people) have the ability to make pain less painful and crappy weeks/months a little less crappy. People show you your strength when you feel your weakest….and the right ones make you laugh when you haven’t felt the laugh lines on your face crease in awhile. People are unique. People are weird. People are there to help you.

I don’t have a perfect ending to this little rant, I still have a butt load of questions and hurts, and no magic light bulb clicked while writing this but I am going to let that be okay for now. The truth is, for every period, every steadfast certainty I know, there may be 10 questions that follow. I still have to try my hardest to choose, however, some days it may just be acknowledging the fact that God gives us promises…and they don’t end in question marks. Maybe this encouraged you, and maybe it didn’t because I’m not ending in some mic-dropping bomb of encouragement but honestly, I’m okay with that. I’m only human and my life still hurts right now. Either way I want you to know that being human is hard, hard days (or months) is okay and not having all the answers is okay. It’s okay…I’m right there in the boat with ya!  I wrote what I know, and that is enough for me today.

-C

Be Still

There is beauty in the hours of an early morning. Before you discredit what I am about to say just hear me out for the next two minutes. I am the first person to tell you that waking up in the morning is honestly really hard (ask any of my roommates for proof). Most of the time, actually 99.9% of the time, I don’t want to get out of bed. Waking up is just a really hard thing to do. I am not a morning person. However, if you find yourself awake before the sun, let me challenge you to sit in the beauty of this hour.

There is beauty in the stillness of a spinning world. There is beauty in knowing the possibilities of this new day are endless. No one has had a flat tire on their way to work yet. No one has spilled coffee on their favorite blouse. No one has been fired or gotten that phone call bearing awful news. It is almost as if the enemy, the devil, doesn’t scheme during these hours of the morning. This time is reserved for sunrises, the smell of coffee, sleepy voices, and the first smile of the day. While the world is often still sleeping, I’m dreaming for them. Right now, in this moment, I don’t mind one bit. The morning chill seeps into my lungs and with each breath I’m reminded that I’m alive. Not only am I alive, but I have purpose.

God has been gently reminding me, everyday, to be still. To calm the raging waves that crash throughout my mind and let my thoughts fall on him. In the quiet moments, busy moments, confusing moments, lovely moments, challenging moments….no matter the moment, It belongs to him.

I don’t know about you but some days I find myself fighting a battle (or many) that I don’t want to be fighting. In fact, frequently I don’t even know how I got to be in the middle of the battlefield. There was no messenger on horseback coming to warn me, no trumpets to sound the alarm, and mostly no army surrounding me ready to fight. Most of the time I feel alone, surrounded by the enemy, losing the battle…..and losing quickly. This is when the same morning chill that once filled my lungs with purpose now fills my lungs with distress and worry. This is when I need to be still. I need to remind myself of who God is and what He is capable of. This is the moment when God speaks Exodus 14:14 to me.

“The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm. (NLT)”

The first time I heard this verse, two years ago, God whispered it to me while I was pulled over on the side of the road, sobbing. I had just been broken up with by someone I thought I was going to marry. I fought and fought for this relationship and I was so sick of no one fighting for me. When God spoke this to me I honestly didn’t even know it was scripture. I didn’t know His voice two years ago. However, instantly I felt peace. I felt taken care of. I felt like someone was fighting for me.

Some seasons God asks us to pick up our sword and fight; other seasons he tells us to get behind him and rest….let him fight while we are still. Sometimes being still is just as powerful as a stab from a sword.

So, ask yourself….what is so peaceful and attractive (even for a non-morning person) about the early hours of the morning? For me, it is the stillness. It is almost required to be still that early. Maybe I just think it is extra hard to be anything other than still, either way I bring my mind to Him. I let God tell me when it is time to rest and when it is time to fight.

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10 NLT)

Today, God is asking me to be still. Maybe he is asking you too. Guess what? It’s okay to be still. It’s okay to rest.

-C

(Photo credit: http://intertwingled.wordpress.com/2014/07/21/be-still/)

The Flames Will Not Consume You

When I think of the word “Courage” I often think of a hero. I think of someone with great authority. Someone who did something great. People like; Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Irena Sendler, Michael Monsoor, and Malala Yousafzai. These men and women are INSANELY courageous, loyal, valiant, and inspirational to say the least. However, the courage that accompanies heroism isn’t the type of courage I want to talk about. I want to address the courage (or lack of courage) that resides in the lives of everyday people. People like the stay-at-home-mom, the college student, the lawyer, the artist, the barista, the high school cross country runner.

What about the daily tasks that take an immense amount of courage just to think about doing? Maybe for you that is doing the very thing that terrifies you, confronting a friend about something that is bothering you, or maybe it is going to that interview for the job that seems far out of your league. Personally, I felt like I needed an immense amount of courage just to breathe this past week. Somehow courage seems to come in measures. An ounce of courage can mean something so different for different people.

These past couple weeks recovery has been the hardest thing to choose. Painful memories and dealing with every issue I have buried has come to surface. Again. I feel like this has left me in a heap in a corner covered with blankets of pain, shame, hurt, secrecy, and hopelessness. Courage was the farthest from my grasp and felt like thousands of miles away. Eating disorders are about control and I wanted all the control I felt like I was losing back. Aspects of this eating disorder crept into my dreams recently (the one place it has never overtaken…until now) and I was instantly aware of the hold it still has on me. In my dream, this voice was very clear that I was not allowed to eat. A conversation often sounds like this…

E.D : “You know you can’t eat that.”
Me: “Yes, I can. I need food to live. You’re wrong.”
E.D: “You ate yesterday, you haven’t done anything today to deserve it. Trust me, I know what’s best for you.”
Me: “You’re right, I haven’t done anything to deserve it. Okay.”

When I woke up, it was as if my choices had already been decided for me for the day and that I was not allowed to eat. I felt like I had to obey this voice no matter what. For those unaware, eating disorders have their own persona in ones’ mind and it expresses itself in a voice that is constant and nagging to say the least. (I promise I’m not crazy.) I somehow hate and find comfort in this voice at the same time. Maybe it is because he secretly found his way into my mind and I have listened to him for so long. It’s like a relationship you know you need to get out of but you stay out of reassurance. Either way, the moment I woke up from that dream I obeyed his voice and lost all courage. Have you ever felt defeated before you even opened your eyes? I physically couldn’t get out of bed until 2 pm. The moment I thought about doing something good for myself, he relentlessly told me I didn’t deserve it. That day I let the eating disorder win. This voice is the enemy and he comes with purpose and intensity to steal my courage, destroy my purpose, and kill me physically.

Ironically, my Pastor, Holly Wagner, hosted a women’s event Saturday called Godchicks: Day of Courage. I knew I would be serving at this, expected to lead and bring hope and courage to hundreds of women….but how? How do you show courage when your battery is 1% away from giving up? In my experience… you stay committed, put some lipstick on, add WATERPROOF mascara, pray when you don’t want to, and show up regardless of your feelings. Then, let God do the rest. For me, showing up when every fiber of my being wanted to isolate and shut the world out was the most courageous I could be in that moment. The next drop of courage came when I smiled despite pain and prayed, honestly, for the women that would encounter God’s tangible presence. I got more courage when I humbled myself and walked down an aisle to receive healing. The more steps I take in pure obedience to God, the more capacity I have to be courageous. The more I trusted each step before me, the more hope I got back.

I am writing to you now because I am hopeful and I want you to know it is possible. “Courage” is strength in the face of pain or grief. It took strength for me to eat three meals. It took strength to go to the grocery store and actually buy groceries (as crazy as that may sound). I may not have saved thousands of lives today like all those heroes mentioned above….but I did choose to save mine. Every meal I eat, I’m consciously choosing life and choosing to trust God. That takes courage dear friend.

Some days, it’s okay if it takes all the courage you have just to get out of bed and stand. I’ve been there. I’ve felt that. I have been so afraid of what the day would bring that it paralyzed me and molded me into my sheets. I forgot that I had a very important choice to make. I forgot that recovery and courage was my choice. I have to find my own courage to go through this battle. I know that because of Jesus I have already won this fight…..but I still have to go through it. I can’t just ride the tail of someone else’s valiance. Eventually, I will fall off and be left behind with a recovery that is not my own. It is crucial that we know we can be courageous by finding our security and strength in Christ instead of others. Arthur Koestler says it best,

“Courage is never to let your actions be influenced by your fears.”

Your world may look like a tsunami coming at you from every angle but have the courage to stand. It is possible! Know and trust, whether you can believe it or not, that God is standing next to you….holding your hand….keeping you afloat. The scripture that God has been gently reminding me of everyday for the past 10 days has been Isaiah 43:1-2.

“But now, O Jacob, listen to the Lord who created you.
O Israel, the one who formed you says,
“Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.
I have called you by name; you are mine.
When you go through deep waters,
I will be with you.
When you go through rivers of difficulty,
you will not drown.
When you walk through the fire of oppression,
you will not be burned up;
the flames will not consume you.”

This promise gives us something solid to stand on no matter what we are facing. The burning flames of pain, shame, guilt, anxiety, fear, or depression CAN’T CONSUME YOU! The heat will feel like a furnace but it cannot burn you!

As I’m writing this I am watching three candles burn next to me. God reminded me that this fear, this disorder and shame is all 100% contained. This chaos isn’t a wildfire that is too big or all consuming. This will pass! The flame is still burning (the voices are yelling louder) but God’s promises are the glass buffer between the flame and me. For that, I am thankful.

So I challenge you, lovely reader, if getting out of bed seems a little too daunting, or if that voice is telling you that you aren’t doing enough, be confident to declare what is true regardless of a feeling. Listen to the one who has called you by your name, not by your weaknesses. Listen to the one who calls you to be courageous right where you are. God is proud of where you are. Whether you have won the Nobel Peace Prize or not, you are a hero to me. Choosing recovery is no small feat and you inspire me to just get out of bed. You are courage.

-C

Who Is Me?

As I watched the two girls I nanny dance around in their brand-new Halloween costumes, (Katherine is Sleeping Beauty and Madelyn is Cinderella…..*Que Cuteness Overload*) I was quickly reminded of why children hold such a precious place in God’s heart. They live and speak in their raw minds saying things that to, us adults, doesn’t make sense but if you listened closely to their words, they are filled with more truth than we usually care to acknowledge.

When I asked Katherine who she was, I fully expected her to respond with, “Sleeping Beauty”, because she had been wearing the dress and calling herself that all day. Might I add, she wouldn’t even answer me unless I called her Sleeping Beauty or Princess Aurora. To my surprise, she simply said, “I’m me”. Wanting and expecting her to say Sleeping Beauty, (because let’s be honest…it’s just cute) I wasn’t satisfied with her answer so I said, “No, who are you?” She, of course, quickly responded with, “Sleeping Beauty” but it was a beautiful reminder that she is in fact, only, Katherine. A reminder that at the end of the day, I am only ME.

So, how do we find out who “Me” is? How do we stay true to “Me” when the world is asking and sometimes even expecting us to be someone else? We look to the Word of God and seek his answers. You and I, woman of the 21st century, need to know, in our souls, who we are so we don’t waiver when someone challenges our identity. Looking back I was, unwarily, asking Katherine to be someone else because I wasn’t content with her being herself. We let people (even those with good intentions) do this to us all the time! That is why it is crucial to understand how to be more like Jesus, which will in return; make us more of who we were created to be individually.

The Bible says in Colossians 3:10, “You’re done with that old life. It’s like a filthy set of ill-fitting clothes you’ve stripped off and put in the fire. Now you’re dressed in a new wardrobe. Every item of your new way of life is custom-made by the Creator, with his label on it. MSG)”

If you ask me, I would rather have a one-of-a-kind wardrobe that was tailored to me alone, by the original creator, than wear a cheap look-a-like dress of someone I pretend to be. Just because you make someone call you Cinderella doesn’t mean you are her and just because you dress up as the princess you want to be doesn’t make the mask you are putting on permanent. Eventually, that mask will be torn away and what was hidden beneath will be exposed. You will be left with the matchless characteristics, flaws, dreams, personality and beauty that make up who YOU are. Along with finding you, you must be willing to be okay with what you see. Steven Furtick, Pastor of Elevation Church, puts it this way, “What matters most is not what I think I am or am not. What matters is what my Father sees in me and what He says about me.”

I believe that the answer to, “Who is Me?” is an ongoing, ever-changing answer. As we go through different seasons in life, our response may change to wife, mother, grandmother, author, overcomer, CEO, baker, dancer, etc. However, as His daughters, who we are in Jesus and who we are to Jesus will never change because He is constant. Being me means being okay with being the ONLY me. The habitually awkward, giraffe-obsessed, coffee at ANY time of the day, gun shootin, prone to break outs, but UNIQUELY BEAUTIFUL me. And you know what? The more I care about who God has called me to be and less about what others may see me as, the more I am truly learning to love every part of me. Yes, even the things about me that are weird. 😉

I hope this encourages you to be you and always remember…..You are a Princess but you have your own name. You, my lovely, are purely you.

-Chrissy