The Fairytale Facade

When I was a kid, my favorite people to study and admire were women in their teens and twenties. I remember thinking that I hoped to be just like them one day. I dreamed that I would be as confident as they were, as beautiful as they were, and as smart as they were. I remember looking at these women as if they were movie stars. As a little girl, all I wanted was to grow up and love my life as much as those women seemed to love theirs.

One day I woke up and became a woman in her twenties, as if almost instantaneously. However, I didn't feel like the beautiful, smart, and confident women I admired when I was a child. As a kid, I imagined that at this point in my life, I would have it all figured out. That's the thing, I have to stop thinking like I did as a kid. My body may have grown up, but in my head I still imagine this perfect picture of a woman that I imagined as a child.

Despite the fact that I will never attain what my child self thought grown up women were like, I think me as a child would like me now. As a kid I loved it when adults would stop and talk to me, I loved it when they would play with me. That is something that has stuck with me and carried over into my relationship with my baby sister. I absolutely love playing with kids and listening to what they have to say, I hope my five year old self would be proud.

I hope my five year old self can forgive me for deciding not to pursue the "pop star" career I once dreamed of. As a child I had this picture in my head of me singing on a stage in front of an audience, and when you're young, being famous is the only way that makes sense. Somewhere along the line I realized that fame was the direct opposite of what I wanted. Don't worry though, little Kory, I still love to sing and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. I just came to a place where I desired community and family above any hope of being a famous singer. Somehow, I think my five year old self would thank me.

As a child, I had a picture in my head of what love should look like, thanks to Disney. I believed that one day I would be with the right guy, and that it would last forever. My five year old self believed in fairy tales, and to some extent, I think I still do. What I didn't see coming though, was that love is messy and it doesn't actually happen like it does in the Little Mermaid. Unlike Ariel, I have a voice and I often use it directly, and some people don't like that. Ariel literally gives her voice away to find love, she gave up the very thing that made her, her, all for the sake of love. I did that too. I gave up my voice and my true desires and dreams in order to hold onto what I though was love. When that so called "love" came crashing down, I had no concept of how to bounce back, there's no Disney movie for that. My family and my friends helped me to seek Jesus and to find my voice again. My child self may have thought that my dreams were shattered, but what she didn't realize is that people are all broken, and God heals the broken to make us stronger. Disney doesn't have a story like that, but I do. I hope and pray that other little girls much like myself can see the hope and strength I have found by breaking out of the fairy tale facade.

But like I said, I still believe in fairy tales. I just don't believe in the fairy tales written unrealistically. I believe in the fairytale of a girl growing up to serve and glorify the Lord. I believe in the fairytale of a girl finding her confidence and beauty in Jesus. I believe in the fairytale of a girl falling in love with a man who loves Jesus above all else. I believe in the fairytale a that aren't found in movies or books, instead they are found in the lives of my best friends, my family, and within myself.

If you're still hoping your life will turn out they way you had imagined when you were five, stop putting yourself through that torture. We can not attain the perfection we thought we could as kids and there is no sense in punishing your adult self for that. Instead, take a look at your life and find the things your younger self would thank you for. Admire where God has brought you and know that his plan for your life is far greater than any plan or fairytale you came up with as a child.

A Magical Moment

            There was a slight breeze in the air that night. Not enough to make the leaves fall off the trees, but enough to make them rustle. The air was cool. It was a chilly fall night and the moon was high in the sky. The school had lights on inside, probably trying to fool people into thinking that it was still in use. The school was abandoned, and everyone knew. The parking lot was almost always empty, unless two cars were there to meet up and exchange questionable materials. There are no lights on the parking lot, only the gentle light of the moon to display any activity that went on there.

            Off to the right there was a small play structure, from a distance it looked like the parking lot was empty, but with a closer look it was plain to see that there were several middle school aged kids just hanging out there waiting for something to happen. They must have seen the headlights because as soon as the car was parked, they started walking away. The parking lot was empty, the only sounds were the cars on the street and the rustling of the leaves. It was perfect.

            We parked the car, rolled down the windows, and cranked up the tunes. Not the kind of tunes that would play at a rave or exciting concert, these songs were romantic, old timey, and happy. They were the kinds of songs that take you back in time, to a place when simple romantic gestures were commonplace.

            My teeth were chattering uncontrollably. He said, “Would you rather get back in the car?” I said “no”, because I knew that what was about to happen would be worth any teeth chattering and shivers that came my way. He took my hand, placed his other around my waist, and we danced. They were not extravagant, graceful dance moves by any means, but they meant everything to me. In the past I had thought that this kind of thing only happened in storybooks and movies. But this happened, it was happening, and I was in love.

            I can’t remember how long we danced, several songs I presume. Somewhere in there he picked me up and spun me around. I guess you could say that was when I knew I was the happiest I had ever been. People kept driving past the empty abandoned school parking lot, but I was lost in the moment. Every once in a while, a pair of headlights would shine like spotlights on a stage, and we danced all the more. The breeze continued to blow, and the leaves continued to rustle. The moon hung in the sky like a chandelier, and the empty abandoned parking lot became a beautiful, dazzling ball room that only the two of us could see. People say that enchantment and magic aren't real, but I know I was part of a magical moment that night.

                       

Something That Matters

            I want so badly to write something that matters, something that makes an impact. I have such a desire to put words on a page that cause a stirring in one’s soul. I want to cause somebody to think differently about their world, or about themselves. I long to find the words that will come together and change a life.

            I keep taking out paper to write but I never find the right words to say. It used to come so easily, the ability to pour my soul out on paper. Once upon a time I could pick up a pen, write something meaningful, and hardly have time to even blink. But now, it’s so difficult to decide what to write that I have resorted to writing about not knowing what to write.

            Maybe it’s not about the topic of my writing, perhaps all that matters is that I write down something, even if it’s just a sentence. I’m probably out of practice, but I’m also a different person than when I began a year ago. I can’t write like I did then because I am not her anymore. I’m new, and so is my writing.

            I used to write about my internal wounds and my broken heart. I used to write about my insecurities and my fears. I used to write about my unhappy and afraid heart. I looked at writing as a way to get those feelings out, and to let people know that I needed help, that I was struggling.

            But life is different now. I don’t have to write about my broken heart any longer because my wounds have been healed. I don’t write about my insecurities because I have found that seeking God’s truth about me works better. I don’t write about my unhappy heart because I’m the happiest I have ever been in my life.

            Maybe I’m having such a hard time writing because my subconscious is making me feel guilty for sharing joy. Maybe I think that the only writing that matters is writing about pain and suffering. But my subconscious is wrong.

            Writing about joy is just as important as writing about sorrow. In fact, it may be more important. People need to know that even though suffering happens, joy comes in the morning.

            The joy and happiness I feel today is a testament to God’s faithfulness. He brought me through a storm and has filled my life with peace.  People need to know that their pain has purpose, that God will turn their ashes into beauty. People need to know about the hope of Christ.

            Writing about pain matters. It lets people know they are not alone, it lets people know the depth of human emotion, and it makes an impact. Writing about joy matters, too, especially if its joy that comes after a tough storm. Writing about joy and happiness shows the love of Christ, and shows just how much we matter to God.

            Writing about both sorrow and joy is a beautiful way to display the work of Christ, and one day when I walk through another storm, I will be able to go back and read of how faithful God has been in the past. I will have no doubt in my mind that He will be faithful again.

            I think I have been having so much trouble writing because I couldn’t figure out what God wanted me to say. Today, he is telling me to share about his abundant joy in my life. He wants me to write about how much he has changed my heart. He took my heart of stone and turned it into a heart of thankfulness, and that matters. Transformation matters.

            So I will write about my sorrows, and I will write about my happiness. Through every high and every low, Christ is there with me. I hope my joy impacts others even more so than my pain. I hope my new heart displays Christ more accurately than my broken heart ever did. I hope this joy of the lord will be my strength when the next trial comes my way. Both pain and joy matter, and I will write in such a way that proves it.

            

He has Carried Me Through

             

Wow. Finals week of spring 2015, I can hardly believe I made it. What a journey this year has been. It feels like it has gone by agonizingly slow and yet in the blink of an eye. Funny the way time passes, so slowly and then all at once, that you have a hard time grasping the change. I am completing a school year of trials. I started the year in probably the most horrible place someone could begin a school year, however I am ending the school year a much stronger individual. I am still in shock. How could I possibly be here in April 2015? Was I not just packing to come back to school for another school year yesterday? How has so much time passed since then? I simply can’t wrap my mind around it.

            Through the trials, so much good has come. I have made friends that I never would have had before. I learned what it is like to live in an apartment, and what it is like moving out of one. I learned that family can make some of your best friends. It’s okay to change and experience new kinds of things. Test out the waters. Take a risk. You might hate it, but you might love it. Life happens when you are willing to step out of your comfort zone. If you want to get a tattoo, get a tattoo. If you want to work at a summer camp all summer, do it. You are only going to grow if you challenge yourself to be more than you were yesterday. 

            You will only grow if you are nourished. I have been nourished this year. So much love has been poured out on me and so much life has sprouted. Yes, there were many days of drought. Yes, it was a very rough start. God has brought me here, He never left my side. On the many days of pain and anguish, he sent His love in the form of family, friends, and sunny afternoons. He has been faithful. He is allowing me to tell his story through my struggle, and I could not be more grateful.

            This year I found out who I am, without anyone else being part of that identity. I learned that my identity is found in the love of Christ, not in a relationship status. I learned that Kory isn’t static; she is dynamic and ever changing, ever growing. Kory is not predictable. She may even do things that are unexpected, and that is OK. Through the uncharted territory, I have found that there is so much more to life than what I originally thought. I don’t have to be what I planned for so many years. I can change my mind and try new things and make new plans. Life is not set in stone, and neither am I. God will not be finished shaping me until the day I meet him in the sky. I have my whole life to learn, try, experience, and live the life He has for me. How liberating it is to know that I am not stuck in one place, I am free to move about and see the world created by my God. How wonderful is it that I am not defined by a hometown, by a stereotype, by a boy. How beautiful is it that I am known as a child of God destined to live out His plan for me.

            As much as I would like to erase the pain and the trials of this school year, I most certainly would never want to lose the lessons I have learned. As I venture out into more uncharted territory as a camp counselor for the summer, I know God will use my experience for His glory. My experience will relate to campers who need to see the love of Christ. He makes all things work together for my good, and for others. He has nourished my soul and shown me hope. Junior year at Corban University was anything but easy, but it was worth it. Praise Jesus for His unending mercy and love, and his footprints in the sand. He has carried me through.

This is my life and I am SO thankful for it.

I Can't Forget

Oh how my heart longs for romance. Why can't I be content with the love of friends and family in my life? Why do I feel so empty when God gives me relationships with friends to fill me? Why when I'm pointed in God's direction do I strain my neck to look at what I'm leaving behind?

I wish I could keep my eyes on the road ahead. I wish that the past didn't linger in my dreams every night. I hate that my heart can't let go. I want so bad to move forward and yet until keep wondering... what if ? What if I had done this? What if I had done that? What if I had figured out my problems earlier? Would he still love me?

The answer is no. There is nothing I could've done to change the outcome. It had to happen. There is nothing in my power that could have prevented heart break. Nothing. And though I realize that its all according to God's plan, I still question it every single day.

Not a day goes by that I don't wish to start over and try again, to try and erase the pain. That's the thing, the past can't be erased. I don't get do overs. I don't get to forget the good things and I certainly don't get to forget the bad. So many times I have thought, what if I just clip out the parts of my brain that he occupies and just move on with my life for good? But the past can't be erased and I can't forget what it's like to have someone to love and to snuggle with anytime I want. I can't forget what it's like to be taken on a romantic picnic. I can't erase all the happy memories of birthdays, christmas, and easters. I can't forget.

That's why my heart aches. The memories are saturating my mind and keep me up at night. They try and convince me that I'm not worth lovong. They push me and shove me and bruise my soul. The memories hold me captive. The memories make me believe that I need romance in my life to make me happy. The memories sting and burn like a fresh paper cut. Maybe one day I will appreciate the memories but that is not today and it probably won't be tomorrow.

I'm thankful for the people in my life who remind me to make new happy memories. Memories that don't make me cringe with grief. I can't hear it enough that things will get better. I can't hear it enough that God has a plan. There is just something about being told that over and over that has me craving for more. I crave encouragement. Encouragement pulls me out of the dark cave of sad memories and flickers a light of hope. Encouragement brings me back to life.

I thank God every day for the pillars of strength he has placed in my life. He knows that I need a sense of family and love constantly in order to keep me from drowning. He knows that when I'm alone I look through old pictures and sob. He knows that if I spend time with friends that's am able to forget for a little while. He knows I need encouragement.

I can't forget the past but I can accept encouragement and love. Through this past school year I have learned so much about what it is like to be unconditionally loved. Jesus has shown me his unending love through my pain, and that is something I never want to forget. I never want to forget what it is like to be held when I am a crying mess and a puddle of tears. I never want to forget what it is like to be cared for. I never want to forget what it's like to be prayed over. I never want to forget that Jesus has already won the victory.

Everything happens for a reason they say, and I can't deny that truth.. no matter how much I want a redo, nothing would bring me to the place I am now. I wouldn't know God's love in the same way without the hurt. I wouldn't know him and I would have forgotten his great sacrifice.

He is shaping me and changing me. Praise God for his unending grace. And praise God for the encouragement he gives me.

The Real Kind of Love.

                 Every single day I experience some form of love. Some days it’s a happy greeting and a hug. Some days it’s a smile from a stranger. Some days it’s a critical piece of advice. Some days it is a shoulder to cry on. Love cannot be put into a box. It goes beyond my presuppositions of what love should look like, it crosses borders and breaks chains. Real love tears down walls of insecurity and meets fear on its knees. Real love bows down and sits beside the trembling and the heart ache. Real love hears stories that would bring shock to most but responds with a hug and encouragement.

            Love is not limited to chocolates and roses. Love is not upset by mistakes or shaken from uncertainty. Love accepts people as they are, broken and shattered, or standing tall and shimmering. Love celebrates success and mourns with loss. Love is not flattery, but instead is the building up of strength in others. Love is complicated. It’s not always easy to love the people who have hurt us or who have stopped loving us. Love requires work to be authentic. It is not simply just something we give out when we are having a good day. Love requires honesty and sincerity even on the days when we feel unlovable. Love is learning from mistakes. It means that our past is not the defining point of our lives, love gives us purpose to press on.

            Love doesn't look like the movies. It’s not always hand holding and kisses. Love is also the bandager of deep wounds and the consequence giver of bad choices. Love is more than just a fairy tale, its truth in its most potent form. It seeps into our souls like a piece of butter melts into a warm roll. Love reminds humans of their personhood. Love restores and love redeems. Love places an infinite value on the people in this world. Love seeks to turn the ugly in our lives into something beautiful, even if that means taking risks.

            Love. It’s something I have learned a lot about in the recent months. I am grateful for the people God placed in my life for such a time as this, because it is through Gods people that His love is communicated. It is through the effervescent life around us that Christ’s love abounds. Through deep waters and through sunny skies, love travels. Just as Christ laid down his life for His friends, love goes beyond the simplicity of cards and adornments, it goes beyond what fits in a schedule, love asks no questions.

             Love is shouting the ABC’s in the middle of the dance floor because a friend didn't like the song that was on. Love is slow dancing with a friend during a love song because you know inside they are a wreck. Love is doing stupid dance moves just to make someone laugh. Love is disregarding personal needs and taking on someone else’s. Love doesn't have to be glorified outings and presents. Sometimes love can just be sharing a meal together or jamming to rap music really loud and going on a drive. The thing about love is that it can be anything you make it. Love is only limited by our own perceptions. If we seek to find love for ourselves, we will come up short. But if we seek to love others as Christ loved us, love will find us and it will enrich our hearts. Love is washing the feet of even our greatest enemies so that the love of Christ himself is shown through us.

How well are you loving those who are hard to love?

These Little Imperfections

"There's no need to be perfect to inspire others. Let people get inspired by how you deal with your imperfections" - Ziad K. Abseil our

This is something I have always struggled with. I am constantly in performance mode, trying to be that girl who has it all together. She's always on time, never misses assignments, is in good relationship with the people around her, etc. I have always wanted to do good and to do it right the first time.

Everyone knows the truth though. We all know it's impossible to be perfect. We all know that others struggle so why do we pretend that we don't? Why do I try to mask my imperfections only to drive myself crazy when I fail? Honestly, it's the people who struggle and still return with strength and unshakeable faith that inspire me, not the perfect ones. Why do I believe this would be any different for myself?

My brain is in constant battle. One half battling for perfection and a good reputation and the other half is fighting for my humanness and my mistakes. One half of my brain is concerned with what other people think of me and the other is only concerned with what God thinks of me. 

Why do I let the fear of failure scare me so much? Doesn't God tell us that He can make beauty from the ashes? masterpieces from garbage? Do my actions really show that? Do I really believe in His grace? If the God I believe is the God of mercy and forgiveness, what good is trying to achieve perfection?

God does not use perfect people to make an impact. He uses broken ones. Adam, David, Jonah, Paul. Those men were far from perfect and yet they are the ones who tell Gods story. They are the people God chose to impact the world. God uses their brokenness for good, surely He can use mine.

I want to inspire people to love Christ more. He will shine the brightest through my broken pieces and imperfections. He called me His child while I was still a sinner. He says come as you are.

I can't be moved by my God if I pretend that I don't need to be moved. Hardened clay can't be molded and formed of its already covered with a shiny glaze. Wood can not be carved into if it has sat for so long that it has become rock. I can not display the glory of God if I am constantly trying to display my own. Jesus was perfect so I didn't have to be. And yet, He said that we would do greater works than He did.

God use me, right where I am. Use my broken pieces to shine your light. Mold me. Shape me. Move me. I want to inspire other to love you regardless of my faults. Help me break down the wall of perfection and open the floodgates of Your will. Thank you for loving me just as I am. Please help me to do the same. 

Restoring Focus

             Today I received this bit of scripture from a friend:

“And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you STRONG, FIRM, and STEADFAST. To Him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.” 1 Peter 5:10-11

            Today is the day that I needed to hear that. Today is the day that I have been dreading. It is a reminder of things of the past that still stings and yet so many have come along side me and held me up. Today I have witnessed patience. Today I have experienced so much support in such few words. He knew today would be hard, so He sent His love in the form of my wonderful friends and in the form of sunshine and light breezes. He sent His love in the form of an overwhelming chapel and sending His presence. Today I felt God, and I know it’s because I needed it.

            Every day in my Biblical Worldview Class we pray at the start. And every day at the end of the prayer my professor says “Lord, restore to us the joy of your salvation”. I look forward to praying those words every single time. Restoration of the Lord’s joy is exactly what I am seeking. And then receiving that verse today with the word “restore” in it, it is only clearer that God is moving. God moved today. He moved and met me where I am. He showed Himself on a day where fear was all I felt. He wrapped His arms around me.

            Another verse stuck out to me today:

“When you go through deep waters, I will be with you” Isaiah 43:2.

            I saw it scrolling on my Facebook feed and decided that it was something I needed to remind myself of more often. I saved the picture and made it the back ground on my phone. That may seem silly but it has taken me a long time to get back to a place where I believe that. It has taken me months of tears, anger, and encouragement from those who love me to believe that God is with me and that He never left.

            Today was not a dark dreary upsetting day like I thought it would be. The sun came out and I noticed flowers were blooming. I was reminded over and over again that no matter my circumstance, God is with me and will carry me. He is restoring me. And He is using those around me to show his endless love.

            Today might mark a day that really hurts to remember, but today God did not let that be the focus. Instead He became the focus and is restoring my soul to Himself. I could not be more grateful.

The Trouble with Snooze Buttons

             Every single day I wake up just enough to push snooze. I roll over and I fall back asleep until the ringing begins again. Eventually I work myself up to climbing down and fumbling through the process of getting ready all while thinking “I wish I was back in bed”. I find that all day I look forward to the moment when I get to climb back into my bed and forget about my problems for several hours, or at least that’s my attempt. Sometimes I have dreams that remind me of what’s going on in reality, other times I have dreams that are nothing like real life. There are days when staying asleep is really difficult, like I can’t seem to turn my brain off, and yet still, I would rather stay in bed than get up and experience my life. It’s easier to push things to the back of my mind than face them head on. It’s easier to push snooze on my alarm than get up and face what is in front of me. It’s easier to pretend that I am fine when really all I want is to be free from doubt and my heart is begging to come alive again.

            It’s like I am on stay in bed mode all the time. I remember my freshman year of college I could hardly stand sleeping in past 8 am because it felt like I was wasting my day away. Now, I hardly manage to rub the sleep out of my eyes before 10:30 on the weekends, if I am lucky. I am constantly running a list in my mind of all the things I have to get accomplished in a given day, why would I want to get up for that? Why would I want to get up just to get to work? Where did that motivation disappear to? What happened to life being what I wanted to do rather than lying in bed? How do I get it back?

            I know that this is pretty typical. It’s not a surprise that a college student in the trudges of their junior year is exhausted and wants to sleep. I am just craving something that makes me want to get out of bed in the morning. I want something that is worth getting up early for. I want to feel alive again. It’s not just that I am tired and my body needs rest. It’s that I feel almost lifeless, or sort of wandering through everyday mundane things. I am not sleepy. I am uninterested. I am not exhausted. I am apathetic. My bed is just a place where blankets of procrastination and doubt cuddle me in that it almost feels warm. I am dissatisfied with my desire to live everyday life. I am looking forward to the day when the snooze button has no hold over me. I am looking forward to the day when staying inside with my Netflix on my lap no longer sounds better than breathing in the fresh air and admiring the world around me. I am looking forward to the day when I jump at the chance to get out of bed and accomplish something. I look forward to the day when I become interested again.

            The trouble with a snooze button is that it allows me to roll over. It allows me to ignore the things that place doubt in my heart. It allows me to skip past the things that scare me. It allows me to miss the things that are going by. I feel like I fell asleep on the first day of school and have been pushing snooze ever since. Where did my junior year go? How did I even get this far? How is it possible that in just a few short weeks I will be standing in front of a classroom teaching real students about classification of living things? That was supposed to be ages away and now it is here and gaining ground rapidly. Pretty soon I will be standing in the front of the room like a deer in headlights if I don’t find some way to be excited about this upcoming challenge. I want to want to teach these kids. I want to want to do the best job that I can possibly do. I want to want to wake up on the first alarm. I don’t want to snooze. I don’t want to let life roll by without me noticing. 

Appreciating Lightning

Even in the middle of a raging storm, I can appreciate the lightning.

            Driving down the road that was wet with recent rain, I saw a flash of light. I didn’t know where it came from or if would come again. My roommates said that it was probably lightning, but I wasn’t so sure. Lightning and storms don’t come that often. Usually in the Pacific Northwest, all we get is rain. Sometimes it sprinkles, sometimes it down pours, but usually there isn’t anything much more exciting than that.

            We continued on the road toward Corban, and there it was. A bright, beautiful, lavender flash of light across the sky in front of us. There had yet to be a single raindrop on my windshield. I pulled in the parking lot and almost instantaneously loud hail started falling on the car. We opened the doors to get out and were greeted with heavy gusts of wind that made the trees bend and howl. It began to rain as we walked up the stairs, but this rain was not just a sprinkling or a trickle. It was a down pour. We were almost up the steps when yet again another flash of light caused us to scream and run towards the doors of the Psalm Center.

            Inside we found our seats and watched as students filed in, all soaked with rain. Hair dripping, but smiling faces. Abby and I decided we weren’t done watching the lightening. We went outside, standing under the large awning, just waiting for more excitement. We had only been outside maybe a minute when it happened. Probably the clearest view of lightning I have ever seen flashed in the field across from us. It lit up the sky a kind of eerie lavender and with it came a loud boom of thunder. Truthfully, I love thunder. I love the way it makes me feel like a child again, wanting to cling to my mom. I love the way it reminds me of God’s voice as it is described in the Bible.

            We wanted to watch the storm longer but Abby and I headed inside for the event. We kept watching out the windows, hoping to see another thrill of lavender glory strike the ground. They closed the doors and the show began, with only a small flicker of the lights to remind us of the storm rolling on outdoors. By the time the show was over, the storm had passed and the thunder ceased. We were all a little disappointed that we missed the show outside for a show inside, though the talent show was a lot of fun.

            I find it interesting that there is something sort of amazing about lightning. For me, it sends a thrill through my veins. I love the fact that you can see it so clearly and then in a flash it disappears right before your eyes. Something that can be so dangerous and destructive is also incredibly beautiful and breathtaking. In the middle of a storm, I can appreciate the lightning. I can appreciate something beautiful even in the midst of chaos. I find God in those moments. The moments where I am in a whirlwind of stress, exhaustion, confusion, and doubt, He shows me something amazing. He shows me how much the people around me love me and the wonderful small things that are still part of daily life. God reveals Himself in the midst of storms. He is the reminder of strength and beauty when the rest of the world is black, He is the flash of lavender beauty that catches my attention.

 Even though I can’t always see Him or feel Him, He is still present through my struggle. I am so thankful that He reveals beauty in the midst of ashes, or lightening in the middle of a storm. He turns the hurt into healing and the bad into good. He is the refuge for my soul when gusts of wind are making trees in my mind howl with doubt and confusion. He is constant though the trial and the change. He is beautiful.

To My Parents

Throughout my life I always looked at my parents as my authorities. I was raised to obey them and listen to their advice, and really that hasn’t changed. But something I am learning increasingly more so the older I get is that my parents are some of my best friends. My parents are funny and fun to be around. They encourage me and push me to do my best every single day. Don’t get me wrong, they drive me crazy sometimes. But they are the people who have always been there for me, day and night, through laughter and through tears.

            When I am having a tough day I can face time Jamie and we laugh about all kinds of things, and yet if I need to talk about something that’s bothering me she is there with a listening ear. My dad loves to send me YouTube links to awesome music that he finds. He may not know it, but the days that he chooses to send those are the days that I need it most. He finds a way to be a part of my day even though I don’t live with him anymore. My mom lets me call her in tears and she listens and tells me that it’s okay to feel what I am feeling, and then she reads me a list of funny things just to try and make me smile. Kirk likes to send me random quotes he finds online that are encouraging. He loves to send me ones especially about God and how He has a plan for me.

            These past five months have been some of the toughest in my life, but what I have realized is that I have some of the toughest, most caring, and genuine friends in my parents. Each one of them finds a way to love me when I need it and hold me even though I am not with them. Sometimes they have to point out things in my life that need work, and though it may frustrate me to no end, where would I be without that?

            I’m not saying that my friends here at school aren’t amazing, because truly, they are wonderful gifts from God and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. But I am realizing that my family are the friends that were always there, whether I saw it or not. They are the true constant in my life. Yes, there have been ups and downs and bumps in the road throughout, but that never stopped them from loving me and guiding me. All four of them have shown me what it is like to persevere and have faith and trust in God when times are tough. All four of them have been pillars of strength for me to lean on when I am weak. All four of them have loved me, regardless of my mistakes. I am so incredibly lucky to have the four wonderful parents and friends that I have been given.

            I am thankful that through this trial I have found out who has always been there for me on this earth. There is just something about pain and suffering that leads you to see who is really going to stick with you through thick and thin. My parents have done just that, and I could not say in words the gratitude that is in my heart for them.

            Whether we realize it or not, God gives us our family for a reason. In my times of loneliness and sorrow, I have realized the true gift of friendship God gave me through my parents, all four of them. 

What I'm Feeling Now

--Be prepared, this post isn't filled with butterflies and rainbows. I’m being pretty honest with my thoughts in this one--

And just like that I am back to that dark place that is somehow a bitter friend. Instantly I find myself wrapped up in the emotions of it all, searching for answers. It had been weeks since I really felt sad, until last night.

            Out of the blue you crept into my life again, letting me know you were sorry for hurting me. Do I believe you? Do I even begin to think that you are sincere and not just looking for something to make you feel better about what you did? Am I happy that you apologized? Am I mad? Do you really think that I needed to hear it or did you just want to clear your conscience?

            Landing like heavy boulders on my heart, these questions raced through my mind as I ran from the room. My instant reaction was tears, a lot of them. And then shaking. I was in shock. Shocked that after 5 months of silence and uncertainty, you spoke up. Shocked that you had been listening to what God was saying to you. Shocked that you even might feel some kind of remorse.

            I wish I could just accept the apology like normal and move on. But it is not that simple. An apology from someone who broke your heart doesn't just come and go like the wind. It lingers like sticky gum on the bottom of a shoe. You carry it with you for the rest of the day and on through the night, wondering how you should respond, or if you should respond at all.

            Unfortunately, I can’t just let it sit there out in the open. I can’t keep re-reading your words and not think of things I wish I could say to you. Before, I never had a chance to express my feelings about the whole ordeal, you didn't let me. Why shouldn't I tell you now about the struggle I have been through the last 5 months? I can’t rest until I have said something to you.

            You made me feel like I was crazy, that I wasn't normal, and that I wasn't worth loving. Unfortunately, I still hurt because of that. I’m glad you’re able to see that the way you ended things was wrong and disrespectful. You don’t end a 3 ½ year relationship over the phone. You just don’t. Thank you for the apology, I guess. Forgiveness will come in time but I am not there yet. It took you 5 months to even realize you needed to say sorry. It’s going to take a lot longer than 5 months for me to be okay again. For the record, I’m not crazy. There are lots of good things about me that are worth fighting for. You were wrong about me.

            I’m not sure if those were the right words to say, or if I should have said anything at all. But those are the words I want you to read. Those are the things that have been eating at me day and night since August 25^th.  And even though it’s been five months since that day, I still feel the sting, your apology only reminds me.

            As much as I would love to be free of this and move on, I still can’t find it within me to be happy yet. I was doing better, enjoying pieces of each day, listening to love songs again and not welling up in tears. But I feel like its back. The cloud of rain that seems to follow me around. Whatever it is, it went away for a short time but is now hanging over me since last night when I saw your name flash across my phone screen.

            --Pray for me, friends. I need a lot of it. I wish I could tell you that I am as happy as ever and finally moving on, but I’m not yet. Pray that I would hear God’s voice in all of this. Pray that I would find a way to forgive. Pray that the Joy of the Lord would be my strength. Pray that I wouldn't be defined by my hurts but rather by the grace of God--