Crying At The Sad Parts

I heard a quote today, “Knowing the end of the story doesn’t mean that you can’t still cry at the sad parts.” And I was immediately moved by it. I don’t know if the speaker was Christian or intended this particular quote to be in the context of the Christian faith – but I’m not sure any of that really matters because it moved my heart, regardless of the intentions behind it.

As Christians, we know the ending, right?! We know that eternity in heaven awaits us because Jesus Christ died on the cross to save us from our sins. We know that we are broken, sinful humans who – no matter how hard we strive and work to live outside of sin – still fall short on a daily basis.  We are constantly balancing repentance with grace towards ourselves and towards those around us. Then again – repentance is its own form of grace, right?! Knowing that we can come before the King and ask for forgiveness and that we will be granted it – no matter what the fault was that we committed?! That is the epitome of grace.

I haven’t written much lately because there has been too much that I’m not ready to say. There is a lot going on in my personal world – which typically I am very ready and willing to share with others, however this time it is different. I have wrestled with this and thought about what it might be like to be more vulnerable in this little corner of the internet, but the truth is that I am just not there yet.

{Insert grace towards myself here.}

But I CAN share this with you: As Christians there is this idea of rejoicing through our trials and hardships; being strong and courageous and having unshakeable faith.  I believe that all of those things can successfully co-exist with pain and suffering…but I’m here to share with you that I also believe it’s okay if they don’t.

We can know the ending of the story and still cry at the sad parts. I have found myself feeling like “less than” because I have doubts and fears and sadness that can’t be shaken.  I know the ending – I know eternity awaits me, so how can I still struggle with these issues that make me feel as though I am a “fraud” of a Christian?!?!

Jesus wept at the graveside of Lazarus even though He KNEW that He was about to raise him from the grave and bring him back to life. Jesus sat in His sadness and grief and, even though it wasn’t pretty or comfortable or neatly wrapped in a box, He mourned with those around Him. He knew what was coming and yet He still shed tears of pain and heartache.

I have no idea what’s coming tomorrow or next week or a few years from now. Not the slightest clue.  But I know what’s coming when I cross that bridge into eternity. I know I’ll see Jesus face to face and dance on streets of gold and let me tell you – I CAN NOT WAIT! But right now – here in this very small moment in time – I am sitting in the thick of it.  I am grieving and mourning. I am scared and filled with fear. I am sad and I have doubts about what’s coming.  I know the ending, but yet, I’m still shedding tears daily for what I’m walking through in the moment-by-moment trials of life this side of heaven.

That’s okay, friends. We can know the ending, know what our future holds, and still be terrified in the moment. The doubts we experience in the trials of this life don’t negate our active faith in the Lord.  In fact, when dealt with appropriately, they often times only increase our faith in Him.  Let the tears fall and don’t ever think you need to handle grief a certain or specific way in order to still call yourself a Christian.

Jesus cried over the tomb of His best friend even though He knew He would see him, hug him, and speak with him again.  It’s okay lament over the here and now even though we know we can rejoice in where we’re ultimately headed for eternity. God doesn’t care how big or small the burden may be, He longs to help us carry it – no matter the weight! Take it to Him – unashamed of the baggage you bring, unashamed of the struggle…even though you and I both know the glorious ending that awaits us in heaven!!!

“There is a sacredness in tears….They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love.”
― Washington Irving

Hustle and Bustle

I am guilty of filling up my silence with busyness – especially during difficult seasons of waiting. I would much rather occupy my time with insignificant activities than to feel the frustrations of delayed promises. The days get shorter yet my to-do lists continue to get longer – filled with insignificant odds and ends just to prevent me from having empty time to fill with my own thoughts.

I maintain my daily “quiet time” with Jesus – it’s just that it seems to be getting progressively less quiet (inside my head) because when I come before the Lord in true and complete stillness it often times feels uncomfortable. It forces me to come face to face with my disappointments. So, here I sit – staring my own grief in the face and doing my absolute best to lay it down at the foot of the cross.  The to-do lists are quiet now but my heartache is screaming through the deafening silence.    It’s in these moments that I have to choose to rely on God’s presence for peace.  In His presence there is peace, joy, wisdom, strength, and so much more waiting for me – for YOU – if we will only come bow before him and receive it with open hands.

Psalm 62:5 “For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.”

Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will exalted in the earth.”

Psalm 37:7 “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices!”

Snow’s Story

The fireplace is on, the only light in the room is coming from our MASSIVE Christmas tree in the corner. I am curled up on the couch with my two best buds (Rachi and Ember) right next to me. The world outside is blanketed in a fresh sheet of white. The trees look beautiful bathed in white – their limbs hanging just a little lower due to the weight of the cold and the snow.

I love the sky in moments like this – it is still dark out but because of the way the snow reflects any light around it, the sky looks gray…as if it isn’t 6am in the morning. It’s almost eerie and haunting. Everything is dark and calm. The only noise is the occasional passing of a train on the tracks at the end of the street.

Why is it that the visual image of snow coating the earth seems to make things seem more…silent?! Why would something visual evoke such a sense of auditory quietness?! I know that by lunch time it will all be melted and things will be muddy and gross so I am sitting here, staring out my big window in our living room and trying to soak it all in. I am trying to be present…here in this very moment, open to receiving whatever God has for me. I’ve already spent time with Him in prayer and doing my devotional routine. But my heart is still heavy – still messy. I want to be like this fresh coating of snow – clean, pretty, still, quiet, undisturbed by time and people, and…I also envy the way it just melts away at a moments notice. Time and environment leave their mark and the snow just disappears. It doesn’t have to remain dirty, worn out, trodden upon, weary, bruised and broken.

Every time the snow falls it gets to write a new story. It evaporates and then falls again – totally new, totally fresh. But when I fall, I get up and struggle to wipe myself off…never able to fully remove the scars I collected on my way down. The snow lasts anywhere from a few hours to a few days before it gets a fresh start, a new story. Whereas my story is weaved together over years of mistakes, experiences, events, people, places, and so much more. My story is a compilation of complicated, messy, beautiful, and even sad. Snow’s story is a simple one – it falls, looks beautiful, gets messy, evaporates and then falls again only to repeat that very same cycle. My story is rough around the edges – uncomfortable, difficult, painful, but also somehow joy-filled and miraculous. My story is far more difficult than the story that snow tells every time it falls. But maybe there can be beauty in that difficulty and the scars that we collect over the years.

Maybe snow is beautiful, in part, because it is so simplistic.

Maybe we are beautiful, in part, because we are not.

“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
― Rachel Carson

Middle Ground

There is pain in the changing.
In the transitions.
In the wonderment of what’s to come.
There is pain even when going from something good to something greater. There is the suffering of a loss that comes at every turn of a page – every start of a new chapter. It’s a confusing place to be, mentally and emotionally…you know what’s ahead is better and will be filled with hope and joy, yet you’re still caught up in this strange, foreign middle-ground.

The middle-ground is the growing place. The middle-ground is what stretches you. You never walk away from the middle-ground unchanged (although sometimes we never fully recognize the change that occurs while we’re there).

I am in the middle-ground right now. I am soaked to the core of my being, chilled to the bone, surrounded by the vast waters of “not knowing.” And yet, my growing is evident – one aspect of it is accepting that being soaked has left me cold, weary, exhausted, burnt out, and so much more. My middle-ground is teaching me how to help myself get unstuck from these chilly places that we can’t survive in for too long on our own.

My middle-ground is also people – my tribe of humans who send out life boats daily and remind me of who I am – underneath the surface. My middle-ground is a husband who is selfless, loving, patient, forgiving, and so very, VERY kind. My middle-ground is sprinkled with grace…and the biggest blessing is that when I’m too weary and exhausted to open my eyes enough to see that grace for myself, I have people who come alongside me and patiently (yet assertively) open my eyes for me and help me see that God is here.

God is here.
And He is working.
He knows all the change before it ever happens.
And He won’t ever leave us alone or abandoned in the middle-ground.

Growing A Garden Starts In The Dirt.

Jesus interacted with women.

Jesus interacted with lepers.

Jesus interacted with thieves, crooks, murderers.

Jesus interacted with prostitutes.

Jesus interacted with sick and dying people.

Jesus interacted with the most broken and outcast in society.

Question: How should this shape the way I interact with today’s “socially outcast” individuals?!?!

Question: How can I “hate the sin, but love the sinner” in a culture where most have the mindset “if you’re not for me than you are against me.” ?!?!?!

EVERYONE is worthy and has a God ordained purpose.

ALL sin is equally damning but NONE IS UNFORGIVABLE!

Question: How can damaged people best love damaged people in a world of “you do you” and “woke culture” and truths compiled from moral relativism?!?!

God did NOT make a mistake in creating you.

He has a plan for your life.

He’s ready to change your confusion to clarity, giving you full access to His ABUNDANT LIFE by HIS design!!!

Romans 9:17

“For the Scripture says to Pharaoh, “For this very purpose I have raised you up, that I might show my power in you, and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.”

Matthew 19:26

“But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Talk to me. Share your stories, your ideas, your thoughts, fears, dreams, and so much more! I won’t pretend as though I will do it perfectly. I just ask for grace along the way as we learn and grow together, friends.

{December 10, 2017}

For the past 1,095 days I have had a headache.

At times it’s been far worse than others. I’ve cycled through multiple diagnosis’s and spent (cumulatively) 3-4 weeks in the hospital. I’ve had three lumbar punctures done as well as every single scan that exists. I’ve tried 38 different prescription medications and 4 different self-injections. I’ve tried home remedies, natural supplements, and yes – even yoga (insert eye roll here ).

It’s been 1,095 days and I still shudder at the word “chronic” when my (most recent and most accurate) diagnosis is stated aloud. Because…just how chronic is chronic?! Is this really a life sentence or can miraculous healing ever occur?! The thing is that I KNOW miraculous healing occurs for others – but I always wonder….will it occur for me?! For this?!

And if not, how do I keep existing in this space where the next moment is always unknown?! On most days, I would tell you the many ways I’ve seen God move through this experience. I would tell you of the things I’ve learned, the way He has helped me come to depend on Him more, and the way this has enriched my prayer life.

But today is December 10, 2020. And today I am grieving for my life before chronic migraine. Today I am sad because I don’t know the why or the how or the when. I am desperately trying to be okay with the not knowing – more often than not, I would say I’ve come to terms with it. But then sometimes there are days like today, where the pain of what this disease has stolen from me is simply overpowering the good that I am able to see while in the midst of the experience itself.

It has been a tough, grueling season. It has felt relentless and never ending. But we serve a God who has felt every human ache and pain that we could ever possibly experience. And because of that, I’m allowing myself to grieve this season and to let others see my sadness over this thing that I never imagined for myself and never would have chosen.

I will leave you with this, my friends (it’s my mantra for days like today):

And if not, He is still good.

…because we were never promised a pain free life, in fact….we aren’t even promised healing in any form while we’re earthside. But we ARE promised eternity in heaven with the very same God who spoke each and every star into existence – the same God who has seen every tear I’ve cried and has wept alongside me (and you, too). Now THAT, that’s a promise to look forward too

Collecting Acorns

A few weeks ago, Jake and I traveled up to northern Michigan where we spent a long weekend with some dear friends of mine! We had never visited their lake house before so when we arrived they gave us a tour of the place.

Their yard was a beautifully rich green color with grass that spanned the entire stretch of property. The steps down to the water were lined with wood – they looked natural, as if they’d developed of their own accord over the years. It was a beautiful, serene, and peaceful setting. The steps eventually lead to a beach-y area where the lake sweetly kissed the shore.

As M and I walked the steps and she told me about how the property has been in her family, I noticed that there were acorns all over the yard. Something was said about how many acorns there were this year and I bent down to pick one up, turning it over and over in my hand. “I love acorns” I said, more to myself than to anyone in particular. “Why?” she asked me.

When I was in the second grade there was a writing contest at school. The topic was “My best older friend” and we could write about anyone we wanted to write about. I chose to write about my grandmother. Whoever won the contest got to read their essay at an award ceremony. I don’t remember exactly what I wrote, but I remember the acorns. I remember writing about how my grandmother and I would spend hours collecting fallen acorns from her yard so we could toss them over her back fence into the woods and the deer would come and eat them. I talked about how I got my love of animals from my grandmother – she would always feed the deer, rescue hurt stray cats or squirrels, and she probably would take a bullet for her dogs.

But I have this very vivid memory of collecting acorns with my grandmother. And as I turned that acorn over in my hand, I realized that, for whatever reason, I hadn’t really seen an acorn in what felt like years. The memories of the essay came rushing back along with an abundance of memories involving my grandmother. I had to smile painfully as I attempted to hide my emotions from others, worried they might ask about my sudden change in demeanor.

Despite our weekend get-away, life was still proceeding as usual and my husband had school work to complete and M and D had an online meeting to attend, so I sat on the sandy area near the shore while they each fulfilled their own obligations. As I sat there, starring out at the water, I rehearsed positive memories of my grandmother over and over in my head, trying to be sure I could still recall them and could make them permanent in my heart. I want to remember the good things. I want to remember collecting acorns.

We had a wonderful time with these dear, dear friends – memories I will cherish forever! We returned home a couple days later and life went on as normal. Collecting acorns faded into the background as life resumed and things went on. But two weeks ago, a friend of mine lost their grandmother. She was in her late 90’s and had lived a long, beautiful, fulfilling life. Thankfully my friend and her husband were able to be in the room and holding her as she passed on to heaven. My friend wrote this beautiful little excerpt about her grandmother and a specific memory she had with her and sent it to me – it made me tear up and get all emotional inside. All I could think was about how beautiful my friends heart is and also how I would probably never have that experience or those feelings when my grandmother passes.

My grandmother is still alive and, although I have become stronger emotionally and mentally which has lead to us having a more…predictable…relationship, we no longer have the type of friendship and camaraderie that I wrote about in my 2^nd grade essay. It broke my heat a little bit to feel and notice the stark contrast between the emotions and feelings of 2^nd grade Sarah Catherine and 26-year-old Sarah Catherine. It made me yearn for the same type of relationship my grandmother and I shared in my younger years.

But, there’s no going backwards – only forwards. And although I am deeply adamant about knowing and believing that God can redeem ANY situation, I have also accepted that my grandmother likely won’t want to be collecting acorns anymore.

Things change. People change. And this was a sweet, sweet reminder that, despite all of that – God NEVER changes. He is always ready and willing to accept us with open arms, no matter what we’ve done or how far we’ve fallen. He is always going to welcome us home and shower us with His unending grace and mercy. I want to be like that – I want to find the strength within me to always be willing to collect acorns.

“I can see in the acorn the oak tree. I see the growth, the rebuilding, the restoring. There is so much we can draw understanding from. One of the lessons is the development of courage. Because without courage, you can’t practice any of the other virtues consistently.” Maya Angelou

When Life Gives You a Headache…

Chronic Migraine is a vicious disease. It’s so much more than JUST a headache. It’s pain that can’t be touched by excendrin migraine or any amount of ibuprofen. It’s a neurological mis-firing between circuits in your brain. It’s agonizing, nauseating, tear-inducing pain. And when you tag “chronic” to the front of that – you have an entire host of life-changing decisions to make.

I’m navigating life with a diagnosis of chronic migraine, but it wasn’t always that way. I developed my first headache on December 10, 2017. I thought it was due to stress because I was finishing up the first semester of my Junior Year and exams were fast-approaching, plus I was recovering from having had shingles just 4-6 weeks earlier. But that same type of headache kept appearing day after day after day…it wasn’t preventing me from living my life but it sure was making it hard to enjoy it!

The medical bills began to pile up as I saw specialist after specialist and had every scan in the book! God bless my grace-filled parents who so generously helped me out! Things got increasingly debilitating and I was eventually hospitalized for almost 2 weeks to try to conquer and manage the intense pain. Nothing seemed to work – not even IV treatments of DHE every 6 hours (my fellow migraineurs know what that stuff is, but for those of you that don’t, it’s a drug notorious for knocking out migraines as if they’re a sandcastle built by a toddler!) A lumbar puncture that I had while hospitalized revealed that my CSF pressure was high – much to everyone’s surprise!

It was at that point that I was diagnosed with Intracranial Hypertension. To be honest, I was thankful for a diagnosis – no matter how terrible it may have been. To have a name, a way to label my pain, was a relief. And so, at that point doctors began pumping me full of diuretic medications and injections of all sorts. But still, nothing seemed to help the pain. Plus now I was having SEVERE GI issues with include (but weren’t limited too), bleeding, vomiting, along with fainting, dehydration, dizziness, etc. I was navigating this physical battle alongside my senior year of college AND planning an out of state wedding. Looking bad, I literally have no idea how I managed to make it through all of that. It was literally an act of God that I made it to the other side of those painful, brutal months.

After many months of failed medication pain-management and few more lumbar punctures – all which came out on the high side of the normal range, the dreaded words arose: brain surgery.

I’M SORRY, HOLD UP – WHAT?!

Before I was letting ANYONE cut into my head (to be very vulnerable and honest, I was mostly afraid of them having to shave my head before my wedding – even throughout pain, vanity is still present ha), I decided to get a second opinion so I reached out to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, MD. I figured if the leading hospital that’s known to have the best neurologist and neuro surgeons in the country can’t fix it – then who else could?!

So, add to that list: senior year of college, medical mystery that’s making existing very difficult, planning an out of state wedding, and now…flying to and from Baltimore every 4-6 weeks.

But I wouldn’t have traded that experience for the world. The doctors at Johns Hopkins were, and continue to be, so thorough and validating of my pain/symptoms. They are genuine, caring, and attentive – it was the first time in my life that I’d had that experience with ANY doctor outside of my primary care physician.

Johns Hopkins didn’t agree with the diagnosis and ordered repeated scans, testing, and…a dreaded lumbar puncture. So, in July of 2019 (after my wedding – thank goodness!!) I went there with my parents for a few days of multiple tests and tons of prayer surrounding me. Here is something I wrote while boarding the plane that day:

This is where my heart breaks a little bit. I thank God for the fire that I’m walking through because without it, I would still be a solid block of metal – cold, hard, with pointy, sharp, cutting corners. The fire is scorching and almost always painful – though the type of burn is constantly changing, but God is molding me and making me into someone and something that I don’t recognize…in the best ways possible. This is a very terrifying process for a human like myself who needs to always have a plan, who strives to always be in control of situations. But nevertheless, I am so grateful for this process, no matter how painful, and I’m grateful that I have a Savior who loves me enough to accept me as I am (but who also refuses to leave me that way.)

This grace…what a wild, unimaginable, mind-boggling concept for us as a fallen human race drenched in endless amounts of sin that threatens to drown us. I once read a statement – I’m not sure who it’s from – that said, “It’s not falling in the water that drowns us. It’s staying in the water that causes us to drown.”

And I realize that the only reason I haven’t drowned is because of the grace of God. We fall time and time (and time and time and time) again and yet our Lord dives in headfirst and pulls us out from under the rough, rolling waves. We make the same mistakes over and over…and yet He loves us unconditionally, unreservedly, and despite our questioning.

So, as I prepare to board another flight for more medical treatment and new doctors and more testing, I’m finding myself in awe of this God we serve…oh Jesus, what a Savior!

And if not, He is still good!

And this is why I felt compelled to write this – my story is not one of a simple migraine diagnosis. My story is complicated and messy and still filled with unknowns. I was mistreated and misdiagnosed and my body is STILL recovering from all the damage that was done. There is so much anger, sadness, and grief tied up into this messy story I’ve had to live. There are things I would do differently if given the opportunity to go back in time, but there are also so many blessings that have come from the past few years of my life – no matter how painful the seasons have been.

I’m no stranger to struggle. But because I’m no stranger to struggle, that also means that I’m no stranger to grace – to both the receiving of it as well as the giving of it. I know what it means to be shown grace, forgiveness, mercy and love. I know what it means that the Son of God died for me on a cross. I know what it means to pick up my cross each and every day and carry it – no matter how heavy it feels or how weary and worn down I may be. I know what it means to put relationships above achievement. I know what it means to savor quiet moments, to count blessings despite the hail storm around us, and to express gratitude for both the good and the bad. Because do we ever really know the difference between the good and the bad until we get to heaven?! What if the bad is being used to form more good in our lives?! What if the bad is the key to getting us to where we currently are – or to where God calls us to be?!

The struggle has made me who I am today – it has been the foundation of my reliance of the King of the World. My struggle has taught me that I must surrender, that I am not in control, that all I can do is raise my hands in worship and prayer to the God of the Universe. My struggle has taught me utter and complete dependence on the Only One who makes the moon reflect the sun.

It is painful.

It is a struggle.

I am changing.

I am growing.

I am becoming.

And where He calls, I will go!

“Every moment is granted for purposes we can’t see. Every breath is issued for eternal things left undone. We brush against people in check-out lines who will live forever in heaven or hell, and we contain God. Try to tell me your life is insignificant. Try to tell me that anything about this life is insignificant.”
― Jennie Allen

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Information about Chronic Migraine:

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/9638-chronic-migraine

Migraine Facts

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/migraine-headache/symptoms-causes/syc-20360201

Covid19 Blessings

It feels a bit weird to admit that there have been blessings from this season of my life – a season filled with fear as a pandemic has run rampant across the world and demolished daily routines with unemployment, sky rocketing death rates, and total government shut-downs across our country. It kind of makes me worry that people will think I’m a jerk for saying that my life has drastically improved despite morgues filling up all around me, unemployment soaring to new heights, and so many businesses/organizations/and individuals struggling just to make ends meet.

But acknowledging the blessings doesn’t mean that I’m ignoring all the pain and suffering. It has been a season of IMMENSE loss and grief and I have felt that alongside those around me. However, I also want to acknowledge one of the biggest life changes and blessings that has evolved for me throughout these past few months.

By far the biggest blessing for me during this season (and there have actually been MANY blessings) has been the evolution of my thought processes regarding planning/making plans.

The heart of man plans his way,
but the Lord establishes his steps.

Proverbs 16:9 | ESV

I am queen of “future-tripping.” What that means is that I get stuck in the future and the trap of intricately trying to plan it all out – down to the year/month/date/time/etc. I live by a calendar and I plan things out as far as the calendar will allow me too – sometimes years in advance. I have a daily schedule broken down into 15 minute increments and by Sunday evening I usually have the upcoming 7 days already planned out. It’s an art form. Some would say it’s impressive – it creates the illusion that I “have my life together” that I’m “organized” and “with it.” And most importantly – it makes me feel safe because it creates the illusion that I have some semblance of control over what happens, when, where, and how.

But covid19 arrived in the United States and completely obliterated my plans – my calendar was wiped clear within a matter of hours when the Michigan governor shut down everything and put a “shelter in place” order into effect. My schedule was unable to be adequately updated in a timely manner because things changed with executive orders and with legal parameters almost daily, if not multiple times throughout a given day. Not to mention, the general fear and anxiety surrounding sickness and the fact that people were (are?) scared s***less by this virus.

To be brutally honest with you (and this is more a reflection of my own insanity), I was WAY more anxious about the lack of control and lack of ability to make plans than I was/am about getting sick myself. As things slowly begin to reopen and we see a second wave of increased cases, I am far more apprehensive about the fact that by simply being sick, I wouldn’t be able to be around other people and participate in fun things! I have more worry surrounding the possibility of my getting OTHERS around me sick as opposed to actually being sick myself. I am young and strong and – despite my ~frequent~ complaints about how fragile my body often seems to be – the reality is that my body is SUPER, DUPER strong to have survived all it has been through and I’m proud of how it’s been able to sustain me, despite me! But that’s a whole different topic…

Covid19 came in and it wrecked my calendar…and kept wrecking it…and will potentially KEEP wrecking it. Covid19 made it impossible to make plans with any ounce of certainty about whether they would actually happen or not. Things – important things – got canceled. We had to improvise like none other, and I’m proud to say that my husband and I got pretty good at it.

We still make plans for the future…I’m taking a trip in just 2 weeks to visit my parents and my husband and I are going to New Mexico in a couple of months. We have dreams and goals of things we want/need to accomplish but we are facing them all with open arms. My husband is extremely flexible and spontaneous so he hasn’t been too phased by all of this. It was a HUGE learning curve for me and it continues to be a growth process. But I’ve been so much happier learning how to throw my arms up in the air and say, “Oh well, we’ll figure this out like we have everything else.” And it helps that this is a world-wide issue that we are all facing for the first time together. We have had amazing support from church, friends, family, etc. as we all try to navigate these uncharted waters together.

Covid19 has forced me to loosen the reigns on my calendar – it’s helped me lay down the compulsive need to plan out everything and it’s given me the opportunity to raise my head and look around me. It’s helped me have fun with the extra time I’ve been gifted to spend with my husband and family/friends. It’s helped me appreciate nature more and get outside (my vitamin D levels have risen SIGNIFICANTLY). It’s helped me discover the things that add value to my life and it has taught me multiple new ways I love to connect with the Lord.

Covid19 has taught me that “normal” daily life is not a chart made up of 15 minute increments – it’s an ebb and flow of grace for the moment we’re currently in. We can make plans for the future, but we can’t worship, trust in, or rely solely on those plans, because we never know what the Almighty God we serve might have in store for us – and although I would never claim that He planned a deadly pandemic to sweep across the world, I think He has been able to use it for good for so many of us (it just may take a little searching and heart-checking to find that good).

Now that I am back to work and discovering yet another “new normal” it is more clear to me than ever that a REAL normal doesn’t exist. We can have plans, we can have routines, but we NEED to have open arms. We can’t be so focused on the to-do’s set before us that we neglect the God-given opportunities to look up at the beautiful world around us and take in all the Lord’s beauty and His magnificent blessings.

Yesterday, our Pastor preached on thankfulness and discontentment…it was awesome and if you have a few minutes, you should check it out by clicking here. 

DESPITE all the pain, loss, and grief (which needs to be acknowledged) I am so grateful for this season of respite – a break from the race of this life, a lesson in the fact that “normalcy” is an illusion that we should never chase after, and that God is here in the thick of it all with us – He is providing in new, wonderful ways, and we will ALWAYS be taken care of…even if our plans we’ve made for ourselves get completely wrecked, we can rest assured knowing that He has something far better in store for our futures.

“You have to thank God for the seemingly good and the seemingly bad because really, you don’t know the difference [until we get to heaven].”
― Jennie Allen

On To A “New Normal”

I go back to work on Monday! In this crazy weird season I’ve learned a lot – about life, about the world, about myself. A few days ago I sat across from one of my dearest humans and we discussed the past few months. There has been so much that has occurred during this pandemic crisis.

January 2020 was down right scary for me. I was NOT in a good place – not a good way to start off a new year. I spent 12 days in the hospital – they weren’t fun in any way shape or form, but they were life-saving. I am forever grateful for those painfully long days where I learned how to cope with this chronic illness mess and was able to learn skills to help me get back up on my feet and keep pursuing life. I was given the opportunity to be a shining light for the Lord in that dark place. I was surrounded by others who were struggling (often times much more severely than I was) and I was able to speak life to them. I was able to show them Christ-like love by accepting them where they were at, loving who they were in their brokenness, and sharing the inner parts of my life with them. That was immensely rewarding for me – despite my circumstances at the time.

February came and I finally got into a regular rhythm with work and music. Then March – and by mid March the entire world was crumbling at the seems. Schools had been closed, work was off, and people were shut inside their homes, terrified of catching corona virus which was sky rocketing it’s way through the United States at startling speeds. Once my husband and I were both released from work due to the virus, we decided to retreat to my parents house is central Virginia where corona virus was practically non existent! We stayed there for THREE WHOLE WEEKS – hiking mountains and spending quality time with my parents. Never before (and likely, never again) will we have the opportunity to have three weeks of uninterrupted vacation time with one another, let alone with both my parents. I was able to continue teaching my sweet students via zoom – which I HATE, by the way. But it’s far better than not seeing them at all, so I’ll take it!

My heart was so happy in Virginia. The mountains are my soul-home. I feel happy and free there and I love the challenge of hiking to the top of a mountain to enjoy the view – to feel small in the presence of our all-mighty Savior and to revel in His glorious creation. We eventually headed home though and my husband and I continued to have an addition 3 weeks of vacation time together! It was amazing – we enjoyed spending so much time together and when he finally had to return to work, I was so sad that we no longer had all day to relax together, explore together, and to just be in each other’s presence (even when we were doing totally separate things – just being in the same room together brought me SO much comfort and joy).

It was my introverted souls dream to get to spend long days at home with just my husband and my dog! I still saw a select few people and enjoyed going for walks around neighborhoods – one of us on the sidewalk and the other in the street (keeping that 6 foot distance, ya know?!)

I have to brag for a minute here—my husband and I make a great team! We are committed to figuring things out together. We figured out medical things, financial things, boundaries and limits with friends and family, we maintained our relationships with the Lord despite not having our regular church community contact that we rely on so heavily and cherish so closely! During what could have been a very terrifying time, we made things work. We took advantage of the time we had off from work to grow closer than before and…there just aren’t words for how much I love him and his heart for God. My husband is my hero ❤

Anyways, church is opened again – with limitations, of course; and so I’ve dived back into participating with worship team and being involved in all of that. I’m still teaching regularly and that’s been such a joy. And now, this week I get to see my sweet baby J again who I’ve missed SO much AND I start working with a new additional family!

I am excited. I am anxious. This is good change – but change nonetheless. And I always get a little on edge when any change occurs (even the best changes bring with them some level of anxiety). I am so outrageously non-confrontational that things like this (negotiating contracts and such) are so uncomfortable for me and it’s really difficult for me to believe that I have a certain monetary value and for me to ask for that compensation. But this new family I’m working with has made the entire process so easy and so open-for-discussion that it has been a relatively simple transition. I can’t wait to love on their daughter and to become a part of their lives (and them, a part of mine). They are Godly and upstanding and I know that we will get along because I cherish raising my own children (hypothetically, at this point) in the ways they are raising theirs. I can’t wait to learn from them – both as a future parent and as a Christian and I am hoping and praying that they feel the same way about me.

2020 is halfway over and there has already been so much growth and change. Corona-virus has taught me that it is CRUCIAL that I protect my “space”. My mental and emotional energy are not always as available as I would like them to be (for others) and so it is imperative that I carve out time to refuel in my own introverted way. I am trying to navigate yet another “new normal” as I begin this season of returning to working regularly and I am excited (and nervous) to find my new balance and to see where the Lord is taking me and leading me. I know He knows the end from the beginning and that He makes no mistakes – so I’m apprehensively awaiting the display of His glory in my life all while trying to stay present and recognize the small miracles that take place around me daily.

God is so, SO amazingly good and I’ve been astounded to see how He has been working in this season! My husband and I are so glad to both have strong relationships with the Lord and to allow Him into our marriage and let Him take the lead! We make a great team and I can’t wait to see all that the Lord has in store!

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

“Nothing is more dangerous, more compelling, more freeing, more radical, more real, more satisfying, more powerful than a person holding a smidgen of faith. A sincere faith in Jesus and all He wants to do around us wakes us up, rattles our lives, shifts every perspective, issues hope in pain, and ignites purpose.”
― Jennie Allen