Tuesday, April 28, 2020

bittersweet eighteen

Today marks 18 years with Jesus. I've been looking forward to this day for a long time, thinking it would feel glowy and resplendent. Strangely, it is much less dazzling than I thought it would be. Maybe if life were a bit different, it would feel more exciting and like the coming-of-age party I thought it would be. However, life is heavy right now. A lot of things feel hopeless. It feels like every day there's something new to discourage us. The world is shut down. No one is hiring anyone, at the exact time that Casey and I are looking for jobs. We have to consider the possibility of moving during a worldwide pandemic and quarantine. Casey's mom is sick and we can't visit her, just have to watch updates of hospital visits and scans and bad nights.
I probably shouldn't be writing while feeling so melancholy, but here it is. Life feels too heavy for me right now. There is too much to grieve and not enough to hope for. And these aren't even "real" trials for us yet. I feel wimpy for being so affected by so little; however, I know this is how He works my faith muscles and the only way to gain strength is to experience His power in my weakness.

For most of these past two years, we have felt unstable. Don't get me wrong, we are incredibly blessed to have wonderful jobs and friends and Church family and the best relationship as friends and spouses, but we frequently feel like a hard circumstance will be un-handle-able. I keep going back to a verse that struck me last summer, Isaiah 33:6- "He will be the stability of your times, a wealth of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge." That solidifies me again every time I get wobbly, offers my heart a strong hand to grasp hold of.

We are in a season of even more wobble, I think. Out on the end of the limb, as my parents often say. Waiting for God to come through. I know He will. I know it won't be in the way I expect or probably want Him to. I know He is always only ever good, and faithful, and steadfast.

Today, in reading Sara Hagerty's book Every Bitter Thing is Sweet (I fully embrace the perfection of reading such an aptly-titled book at this specific time), a line struck me- "As with any calling, we dip our toes in the water of yes and hope to God that this is the biggest yes we'll have to utter, the biggest move our hearts will have to make with such trust, only to find ourselves submerged years later." I have been hoping that saying yes to moving and changing jobs was enough, but I'm afraid that it isn't. The yeses only get bigger so as to deepen our trust and submerge our hearts in Him. That scares me, but I want it. In the same chapter, Sara also writes, "Instead of letting all that I lacked consume me, I was being made ready to delve into unknown frontiers of Him." If I'm honest, it's been five years since my last 'growth spurt' with God. It feels like a new one is beginning. It's always in those dark, scary times that we grow the most, isn't it? Maybe someday I will be mature enough to "delve into the unknown frontiers of Him" without a deep, scary thing in front of me... but I'm not there yet. Right now, it takes the terrifying to push me there.

I think I mentioned in my last blog that I felt a "holy unrest" in me (thank you for the PERFECT terminology, Priscilla Shirer). I realized I had grown stagnant with God, and knew He was preparing me for something, but I couldn't tell then. I still don't know what it specifically is, but I know it is this season we are walking into that He was beginning to stir up.

So, here I stand. On the cusp of something big, that I can't see or comprehend. Looking over the cliff, into the darkness, preaching to myself through song:
"In the valley of the shadow, I remember You are strong, God, You are strong."
"I put all my hope on the truth of Your promise, and I steady my heart on the ground of Your goodness."
"You don't give Your heart in pieces. You don't hide Yourself to tease us."
"You revive me, Lord, and all my deserts are rivers of joy."
"I will trust here in the mystery... You taught my feet to dance upon disappointment, and I will worship."
"There's no place I can go Your love won't find me, no place I can hide where You don't see, no place I can fall Your love wouldn't catch me."
"I am not alone- You will go before me, You will never leave me."
"Where there was death, You brought life, Lord. Where there was fear, You brought courage. When I was afraid, You were with me."
"When the night is holding on to me, God is holding on."
"I'm still in Your hands, this is my confidence: You've never failed me yet."

It doesn't feel much like an 18th birthday party. It feels dark and foreboding and like a lot of bad stuff is about to happen. Probably not the happiest bundle of thoughts to share publicly, but I know my God is a God of full-circle and completing what He starts, so I share this for the day when we can look back to the beginning and remember where it began. I share this to hopefully comfort someone else who also wonders what sort of vast unknown they are walking into, and how it will change them. I share this to reflect on these 18 years so far and remind myself that He has never failed me yet and He won't start now.

Finally, I can't get this quote out of my head. This season will certainly require all of these attributes of me, and all I can do is eek out my little "yes" to seeing how God makes me more like Him through this.
__________________ ____________ ____________ ____________ __________________
music for this season:
Good to Me- Audrey Assad
Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus- hymn
Pieces- Amanda Cook
Jesus, Rock of Ages- Christy Nockels
I Am Not Alone- Kari Jobe
King of My Heart- John Mark & Sarah McMillan
Do It Again- Elevation Worship
God With Us- Brian & Katie Torwalt

Wednesday, January 01, 2020

this is a jumble and I don't like it.

Well, it's been a year. Every time I've come here to write, I closed the tab. The words just wouldn't come. There was a time in my life, about four years ago (actually exactly four years ago), when I had nothing but words to type. Everything was pent up inside me and the only way to process was to write. I suppose I should be thankful that it's not that way anymore, but I developed an attachment back then, and I still haven't let go.
When I think about it, a little voice inside me says, "Bec, you're still a writer," but I've always had trouble claiming that title. It seems so lofty. However, I cannot deny that there are always words inside me, winding themselves around in my head, attempting to find clever ways out. Is that all it takes to call oneself a writer?
Anyway, I'm a good bit ashamed of this post, because it jumps around and isn't very coherent and is NOT the type of writing a TRUE WRITER would produce, I tell myself. But I'm really not here to prove myself as a writer. I'm here to share my heart, to be open and honest, and to hope that God uses it to speak to someone. I'm pretty sure this post will end up being a big jumble of thoughts and emotions, and I dread that, but I know I need to just DO THE THING. Please bear with me.

Life lately has been... different. Kinda funky. It's a lot of self-discovery and avoiding listening to the news and trying to not be so hard on myself.
Here, I must admit that I'm a basic white girl and am VERY into enneagram numbers right now. Which, I believe, is leading to some really beneficial learning-about-myself time.
For a long time, I thought I was a Two- caring, people-pleasing, helper. Then I started seeing a lot of Four tendencies in myself.
Then I listened to Annie Downs' That Sounds Fun podcast on Enneagram Fours and I spent the entire hour going, "WAIT, THIS IS ME! IT'S ME, I'M A FOUR!" and crying along with the speakers.
It's been so beautiful and refreshing and rewarding to hear my tendencies and personality traits explained through the lens of the Gospel, and how those traits can be used to serve and love well. I can't tell you how many times I've cried about that.

And I must say, it tastes so sweet and feels so freeing to realize that part of my Four-ness and Individualist-ness and highly-sensitive-person-ness is a TOOL that God has given me to encourage and empathize and spread words of Truth. My ability to cry at the drop of a baby squirrel is not a weakness, not something I should apologize for, or hide, or feel ashamed of. My ability to cry while listening to any slightly emotional story is a TOOL that God has given me to be able to relate to people and to love them viscerally (tbh, not sure if viscerally is the right word there, but it's the best I've got).

So, needless to say, that made me fall in love with the That Sounds Fun podcast all over again-- I already liked it, but now I have feelings for it. Naturally, I then consumed it like crazy for about a week. I listened to some of my favorite authors and musicians being interviewed- they all made me cry. I learned a lot from all of them, but my favorites were Robin Jones Gunn, Mandisa, and Priscilla Shirer (you should go listen). Robin Jones Gunn reminded me of the importance of friends and of God's sovereignty in all our disappointments. Mandisa spoke about learning to stop hiding from the parts of us we are ashamed of, and instead to speak truth to ourselves and those around us. Priscilla Shirer really got me- she said she was in a season of "holy unrest", and that resonated deeply in me.

I feel like all of me is in that state of holy unrest right now. I'm uncomfortable, almost itchy, and I know there's a reason for it. He's making me uncomfortable for some reason that I can't see yet. I feel the need to get up and do something new in this season... but I can't tell what season this even is. It doesn't feel like any of them. Maybe Winter? I can't tell yet. I just know I'm transitioning to a new season and He's preparing me for something.

(I must remind myself that it isn't a coincidence that these podcasts that I listened to months after they aired, out of order, spoke to me. Every one of them was provided to me by my Father. That makes me weepy, thinking about the fact that He cares enough about me and my worries and my heart to give me some truth in the form of PODCASTS.)

I don't know about you, but I find myself most frequently battling one emotion: fear. I think, if we're honest, that's true for all of us. I'm terrified of what He's preparing me for, of the season He's introducing. I feel very certain that it will be hard and He will require some things of me that I don't think I can do. I'm scared of that.
That's why it is so touching that God's perfect love drives out fear. His ability to show us love in these insane, earthy, human ways is meant to drive the fear out of our hearts and lead us to Him.

As much of my writing does, this will circle back to Casey, so if that annoys you, just skip this bit. When Casey and I first broke up in August 2014, I was terrified. I realized that I loved him and I was terrified that losing him would scar me, or he would never come back to my life. I remember many days of waking up scared that I'd lost this guy who had quickly become one of my best friends, asking God, "Do I have to give him all the way up?"
The answer, of course, was yes.
At that time, I stumbled upon the perfect song- All We Are is Yours, by Daylight Worship. I cannot tell you how many times I listened to that song in the fall of 2014. The lyrics say,
"Whatever you say, whatever the cost, all we are is Yours

Wherever we go, whenever You call, we give all our strength that Your name would be known."

That resonated so perfectly in my heart. As much as I wanted to still be Casey's girl, to still be friends, to hold onto what we had, I knew the only way to move forward was to offer "us" up to God. To open my heart to the possibility of a call that I didn't like, or a cost that felt very unaffordable. To prioritize my relationship with Him over Casey.
I'll finish the story quickly by telling you what many of you already know- Casey came back in my life eight months later with all the beautiful timing and truth only God could orchestrate. We dated for 3 more years, and when planning our wedding, the one song we knew we had to have included was All We Are is Yours. This time we had many of the same feelings I'd had years before: fear, trepidation, nervous excitement. I think every time you fully place your trust in God, those emotions are to be expected. We knew that we would do what He said, go where He called us, whatever the cost. But that's scary and our human minds had a hard time wrapping around the idea of His ability to provide for us at every twist and turn.

That's most of why I wrote the waiting and believing post, about our marriage, life in Hattiesburg, and all that God has brought about here: because I had been terrified, and my little heart relied on His love to get us through. And it did. We waited. We believed. He loved us. We survived. He drove out our fear. We grew. That was enough.

And it still is enough.
Sometimes I feel like life is happening so fast, there will never be enough time to soak up all the lovely moments that go flying past me every day. I fear forgetting these days. I will never be able to memorize every detail of Casey's face, but I need to have it memorized because there is a 50/50 chance that I will have to live without him at some point. There is not enough time in this future of beautiful things blazing past me. It literally makes my throat get tight, the fear of missing all the good stuff. It paralyzes me sometimes and lays in my chest, heavy and dark. Ironically, the fear of missing all the good stuff leads me to missing stuff, because I'm letting fear settle in me. I'm giving it a place to live. And I'm tired of doing that.

In those moments over over-awareness, I feel every little moment so deeply. Kids smiles. Tears. The sound of dragonfly wings. The silliest things. I want to use that over-awareness to cherish life, not to fear missing things. Since it's January 1, I strongly feel the need to have succinct resolutions, or a word for my year, or some sort of vision... but I don't have any of that.

I have things I feel God has spoken into my heart:
I will see salvation this year.
He will provide for the scary unknown that is the months of 2020 after May.
I can trust Him.

That's all I've got. No cute picture. I don't even have a verse yet. But I think His voice is enough.

songs that have been resonating lately:
-Barter (SSA arr. by Clausen)
-High Flight (SSA arr. by Karen Linford Robinson)
-Embracing Accusation (Shane and Shane)
-All We Are is Yours (Daylight Worship)
-Music of My Heart (Nicole C. Mullen-- man I miss her)

Monday, December 31, 2018

welcome to midnight.

Do you ever feel like your path with God is a big ol' question mark, instead of a straight line like it seems it should be? 2018 has been that for me. Don't get me wrong, it has been one of the best years of my life, but it has also been one of the most trying years in every way. This year has been wibbly-wobbly, unsteady, and constantly changing.

I found out my school was closing. I left my job. I got married. We moved to a new city. He got a job, I didn't. I was unemployed. My sister left the country for two years. I worked part-time. We found a church. We found out my mother-in-law's cancer came back. We had to make new holiday plans and traditions. We had our first holiday season without Lauren.

It's been a lot of change, and I've been a heck of a mess. Through it all, through all the tears and doubts and questioning God's purpose in this wiggly question-mark-of-a-path, I found He was building a new foundation of trust in Him. I realized He was building my faith muscle the only way it can be built- by working it out. He was training me in discipline and faithfulness. All those days of wondering where He was leading and what my next step should be were like the marathon-training before you actually take the steps down the road. I felt like I was running in place, and I kind of was, and maybe it benefitted me.

I feel like I've grown more in 2018 than I have in many years. Thinking back across all of these months, I began trying to sum up the main lessons I've learned this year. I won't ramble too much about it, but if you'd like more details or would like to talk about any of these points, I'm more than happy to hear your thoughts and questions and share mine as well. 

Some things I learned and grasped tightly to in 2018: 

  • I refuse to spend my life trying to make myself skinnier or smaller or less. I will not be mean to my body just because I have been conditioned to believe that big numbers are shame-inducing and fat is bad. Body positivity and fatness are such complex issues that cannot be neatly summed up, but this year I really started to live happily in my body and be proud of it and treat it well. Fat is not bad. My body has much more purpose than pleasing others. I like to work these abs out, and also feel my belly soft and squishy when it's relaxed. This year, I finally stopped wanting my body to be something other than what it is, and it has been so freeing to not constantly live at war with myself. 
  • Responding to conflict with rigidity and harshness only worsens the problem. The only 100% effective method to solving interpersonal issues is selfless kindness. Whether you're a teacher, a friend, a sister, a coworker... all the people around you want from you is kindness. The only way to soothe and resolve problems is to approach them gently and lovingly.
  • God is always always always providing and caring for His flock. Even when it feels like He left. Even when you made a decision and then realize it might have been the wrong one. Even when it is down to the very last second. Even when it has been three years, and you thought that stir in your heart had died... He is growing you. He is providing you with lifelong treasures. He is teaching you the priceless gift of learning to walk with sorrow and suffering as your closest companions. He is gifting you a present, painting you a future, and redeeming you a past more beautiful than any earthly accomplishment or item you could ever covet.
  • The best gift you can ever give anyone is to be a soft place for them to land. My favorite moment this Christmas (maybe this whole year) was sitting across the kitchen table from my mom, cutting up food for Christmas recipes, talking about our pain and being a little weepy together. You can take all the jewelry, books, tickets, clothes, and cute stuff away from Christmas, and that's enough for me. If you're left with time spent beside loves ones cooking and watching tv and talking about tough subjects, it was worth it all. In three years- heck, 3 MONTHS- I won't remember what I got for Christmas, but I'll remember sitting in the Alabama Theatre sandwiched between my brother and my husband, watching my parents hold hands, singing Hark The Herald Angels Sing and feeling like I was living in It's A Wonderful Life. The best parts of this year were when I was able to be fully myself, ugly parts and all, and was embraced and loved in the midst of it. 
I hope you found some hopeful lessons and grasped tightly to them, too. I hope you discovered parts of yourself that you didn't even know were so strong and beautiful. I hope you began to see another human's extraordinary magic (to steal Ben Rector's words) and felt the miracle of love. I hope your eyes were opened to areas of God's heart that are so much deeper and kinder than you were ever taught.

This year, I met some darkness that I didn't see coming. I felt, for a bit, like more of a burden than a light. You've probably felt that way before, too. Before this year ends, take some time to celebrate the small victories and pinpoints of light in your life. Don't give up. Let this new year be one that you look back on as the year everything changed for the better. On New Years Eve, I always think of these words from one of my favorite authors, Jamie Tworkowski. 

"Wouldn't it be nice if change took just a moment?
Wouldn't it be nice if it were that easy?
Midnight and we're new. Midnight and the past erased. Midnight and we're free.

It seems to come slow. It seems to be a surgery.
Forgiveness. Healing. Sobriety. Letting go. Starting over.
It seems to happen slowly over time. 
One day at a time, the choice made new each morning.

Will you fight?
Will you fight to be healthy?
Will you fight to be free?
Will you fight for your story?
Will you fight to get the help you need?

Change takes more than a moment, but maybe there's also something to this celebration of a moment, something to the way it speaks to us, something to the way we fear it, and dream it to be true. Maybe it's the most honest moment of the year.

It's possible to change.


I cannot close this blog without mentioning some of the art and artists who made this year lovely for me. Not sponsored, just honestly enjoyed:

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas
Remember God by Annie F. Downs
Come Matter Here by Hannah Brencher
Body Positive Power by Megan Jayne Crabbe

Magic by Ben Rector
Look Up Child by Lauren Daigle
CRAZYTALK by Mat Kearney
Let It Be Jesus by Christy Nockels

I Was Here by Beyoncé
Pieces by Amanda Cook
The Heart That Slows Down by Canyon City
Simple Gifts (American Shaker song)

Saturday, November 10, 2018

the waiting and believing

"My hands hold safely to my dreams,
Clutching tightly, not one has fallen.
So many years I've shaped each one,
Reflecting my heart, showing who I am,
Now you're asking me to show what I'm holding oh so tightly.
Can't open my hands, can't let go-
Does it matter? Should I show You? Can't You let me go?

Surrender, you whisper gently.
You say I will be free,
I know but can't You see
My dreams are me?

You say You have a plan for me,
And that You want the best for my life.
Told me the world had yet to see
What You can do with one that's committed to Your call
I know, of course, what I should do,
That I can't hold these dreams forever.
If I give them now to You, 
Will You take them away forever, or can I dream again?"

I can't tell you how many times I listened to these lyrics of Surrender by Barlow Girl during my high school years. For some reason, my 16-year-old-self felt like I was surrendering a lot by not getting to date guys I liked, or do 'cool' teenager stuff. Then, a few years later when I returned from my semester abroad in London (very much against my will... I should never have agreed to round-trip airline tickets), the lyrics resonated in a new way. Living in London and teaching there became a dream that I held dear and begged God to fulfill, but eventually had to surrender as well. Then, of course, there was the time Casey and I broke up. That was an entire castle of dreams built up that I had no choice but to surrender. Since we got back together all those years ago, there hasn't been much surrendering of dreams. Everything came pretty easily, and while my job was definitely a challenge, life didn't require much surrender. It continued like that for a long time, until this summer. 

When Casey found out he got accepted to USM's Sport Management grad program, we started praying for God to lead us to the right home, church, friends, and jobs. The home was a pretty clear and easy decision. Church has taken a while, but we've finally been going to the same one regularly (whenever we're in town on a weekend, which is not much). Friends are still a process. The job part came simply for Casey, but has felt so convoluted for me. We were blessed when Case was offered a grad assistantship- it was such a miracle, and made me feel so sure that God was preparing such a miracle job for me, as well. I had a couple really hopeful interviews, but nothing ever turned out well for me. 

Naturally, I got angry. Casey started work, then class, and I was still sitting at home every day bringing nothing to the table but occasional baked goods. I gave up on a full-time option and started trying to sub. August passed. Then September. I was waking up every morning at 4:30 trying to check subbing availability, and nothing was coming my way. I subbed two days total.  It felt like God was intentionally keeping me from steady work, and I was struggling with it more each day. We were (slash are) majorly poor, surviving only off the savings we had wisely accrued while teaching, and generous wedding gifts (prepaid rent and a lump sum of cash) from our parents. My emotions and heart condition varied from day to day. Some days I was borderline depressed. Some days I could ignore it and pretend I was ok. Only occasionally was I actually trusting God and at peace with this waiting He'd forced me into. Casey, of course, has been so loving and supportive through every bit of this, but I have struggled to accept it much more than he has. 

Finally, in the beginning of October, I was offered a long-term sub position at one of the best elementary schools in the state. It has truly been an answer to prayer, in more ways than just financially (though that has been the most pressing one). Somehow, though, I have still felt unsettled and am concerned about the rest of this year, and next school year. I worked so hard for my degree, and I love teaching Music so much, it's hard to accept that there may be a chunk of my life where I just don't teach Music. I've always felt and believed that God led me to Music Ed for a reason, and that He placed me in the schools I've taught in so far. This season has worn me down so much, and made me question even those beliefs in God's plan for me that always seemed so logical and steady before. A few days ago, 'Surrender' played on my drive to school, and touched my heart all over again. I don't think I'd even realized how much I had tied my self-perception to these dreams I've had of growing into a better Music teacher, and someday getting to be that teacher who's been at the same school for 25 years. I felt like those dreams WERE me, so I felt like this season not fulfilling them meant that I was losing part of myself, or not being who I'm supposed to be.

A few months ago (a bit after Easter), our pastor shared a beautiful analogy of how God reveals things to us, which I frequently think back to. He first shared a video of his grandchild hunting Easter eggs. In the background, you could hear the dad, behind the camera, saying, "Look over here! Do you see that egg?". When the toddler couldn't find the egg that was hidden in plain sight, the mom would go stand beside it and point down to it, saying, "Look, buddy, what's this?" until the child waddled over and gleefully grabbed the egg to show to his dad. 

You can probably see the analogy coming. He remarked that we often feel like God is hiding explanations or plans from us, when really He is standing over some Easter eggs saying "Look over here! Open this up and look what I have for you!". The 'eggs' are hidden in plain sight, but sometimes our infancy keeps us from recognizing what God has put before our eyes. 
I love the way Amanda Cook references it in her song Pieces:
"You don't give Your heart in pieces.
You don't hide Yourself to tease us."

God's delay to lead me where I think should be led says nothing at all about His sovereignty or ability to bring good to me, and says everything about how He wants me to stop questioning and trust Him. Recently, I saw a post from one of my favorite writers + instagrammers, Sara Hagerty, that felt like it was made especially for me. Every day she posts a "daily adoration" recognizing a Scriptural attribute of God. This one was based on Psalm 62:1- (You can find the full post here)

And man, if He hasn't been delaying and growing my belief these past few months. He's been leading me to surrender some old dreams that maybe aren't lifelong dreams, or maybe they just aren't for this season. He's been doing a lot of uncomfortable things- things that cause me to be vulnerable, needy, and dependent on Him and my family. I'm not going to tell you I've liked it, or that I'm happy with it all the time... but I am telling you that the waiting and believing God is a good place to be. 

Saturday, July 28, 2018

new shoes

A little over a year ago, I wrote a blog post about being in a weird phase of relationship with Casey- we were very emotionally and spiritually serious, but still "just" dating- which we called "outgrowing our shoes". If you missed it, this post will make a lot more sense if you go back and read it now.

That post was written in February 2017. Little did I know that 9 months later, we would get engaged, and 15 months later, Casey and I would be married. The outgrown shoes season was very difficult for me, especially as the months ticked by and we still weren't engaged. I was dead set on a Spring wedding and a 6-9 month engagement, so I felt we "had" to get engaged between June and November 2017. I loved dating Casey, and I loved being his girlfriend, but the longer we were together, the more I wanted to just marry him already. When each month ended and we got closer to winter, I started getting sad that my dreams of a Spring wedding would have to be put aside for a Summer or Fall wedding, or worse, put off for another year. I cannot tell you the multitude of times I begged Casey to give me some hope of an engagement-- and in true Casey fashion, he wiped my tears away and asked me to trust him, without giving me any details or surety.

Looking back now, that was a really sweet season. It was the beginning of me learning to trust my (now) husband more than my doubts, my fears, or my own plans. At the time, however, I resented it.
Finally one night, at the end of October/beginning of November, I sat on the couch beside him and said: "Look, I know we aren't getting engaged anytime soon. I'm trying to be fine with that, but it's really hard for me. The hard thing for me is I'm keeping my hopes up for a Spring wedding and I just need you to tell me we're not having one. I just need you to say a Spring wedding is out of the picture, just so I can get over it."
So he did.
I cried. A lot.

Thankfully, he was lying. He'd had the ring made for me, picked the diamonds himself, and was waiting to pick it up on a day I wasn't with him.
Less than a month later, he proposed to me on Thanksgiving at his grandparents' house. Their 60+ year marriage has been such a blessing and inspiration to us, and we've always talked about how much we want to be like them, so I'm sure you can imagine the tears, giddiness, and relief that came with starting our story there.

We were engaged for 6 months and 4 days (HA! God and His impeccable timing! He gave us a 6 month engagement AND a Spring wedding)- which I mean to write about sometime, but not today.

We've been married for 2 months. Just typing that makes me stop and go- WAIT. WE'RE MARRIED?!
Yep, it's cool.
Anyway, we've been married just a few days, and already I'm finding the 'new shoes', as perfect as they are, are much different than I imagined them to be.
Though they don't bring the pains of wearing shoes that don't fit, they do bring the pains of breaking in shoes that no one has worn yet.
Everything is new. Everything has a learning curve. Everything is a little bit fun and a little bit scary and a little bit "what if I totally mess this up?"

Please don't take this as ungrateful or unsure of my commitment- I couldn't be more thrilled to be Casey's wife. It's just different than I expected. My perfectionist tendencies REEEAAALLLYY don't like having to figure married life out and get some stuff wrong along the way- I liked knowing what I was doing dating Casey and having a pattern to our minutes and days. Right now, it's weird trying to figure out our new patterns. The shoes definitely need to be broken in.

I can't tell you how many miscommunications we have had. How many times I've taken offense at a tone I thought he was taking with me. How many moments we have been so frustrated with each other, only to talk it out and realize we're aren't good at being married yet. Not good at understanding each others tone's, reading between the lines, knowing what tools or words will help the other person feel more loved or calm down or feel settled. We just don't know how to be 'married people' yet.

I definitely didn't see that coming. We dated for 4 years, I felt I was pretty good at reading between his lines and not getting offended at his introversion but GUESS WHAT? I knew nothing.
I think marriage is really just Revisiting Every Discussion You Have Ever Had 2.0 (not in the rehashing old arguments way, but in the spiral curriculum way {sorry that I only know how to make teacher analogies}). It's deeper and sweeter, but the hard stuff is harder, and the ugly parts of us are uglier- it's like marriage just gave us magnifying glasses for each other.

Casey and I have frequently referred to our relationship as if it's a college degree we're working on. "I think you're a Senior in Becca Studies by now," and the like. If getting married was graduating undergrad, then being married is pursuing a Master's. However, there are no online classes for this- it's a 24/7 internship. As frustrating as it is to have magnifying glasses for each other, what a sweet gift it is to be able to study and know and understand Casey Key that deeply. Deeper than any other human ever will (eventually. I do not claim to be there yet.)

So yes, I'm working on my Master's of Knowing and Understanding Casey Key. The new shoes are hard to fill, the learning curves are trying, and every.little.thing. feels like an experience that grows me, which is awesome, but uncomfortable. I strongly recommend marrying your best friend, it's a lot of fun, and a dose of reality at the same time. However, let's not turn this into a Becca's-life-is-better-than-yours session. Don't think I am better off because of who I am, who I'm with, my relationship status, or any way my life appears to be in this post or on social media.
My life sucks sometimes too.
The other night I got irrationally mad because I fell asleep while Casey was playing Words With Friends.
go ahead, laugh at me.

I suppose if I'm trying to boil all of this down to one thing, it's this:
you can be thrilled and terrified at the same time. you can be satisfied and frustrated at the same time. you can hate change, but also embrace it. Life is, for me currently, a lot of contradicting thoughts and feelings and events that happen at once. Most of the time I really like it, but sometimes I really hate it. That's okay, and normal, and part of this season of transition, and part of breaking in the new shoes I think.

Tuesday, February 06, 2018

through my weary eyes, You're giving vision for Your Kingdom.

Let me start by saying I don't feel that these words are eloquent or edited or polished enough, but for some reason I feel the need to share them raw, so here they are.

     They say every person sees colors differently. If I pointed to a leaf, we would both recognize it as green, but your eyes will see it a slightly different shade than mine will. Of course, we don't have language complex enough, or adjectives specific enough, to differentiate the exact differences we see; however, I think we could all agree that this seems like a truth to us. We can't prove it, we can't explain it, but we know it must be true.

     This morning, as I was driving down the interstate, I started thinking about spiritual sight. From out of nowhere, I realized there has only ever been one human who had 20/20 spiritual vision. Only Christ was naturally able to see absolute truth, because only Christ was fully God and fully man. The rest of us, with God's power and Spirit at work in us, are walking around with glasses and contacts. We don't just see varying shades of the same spiritual activity- our eyes are blind to God's heart and spiritual truths until we choose to see through His vision. We are born blind, born into darkness, born into sin. It is only through the Light of Christ that we are able to see.

     Some of us are lucky enough to have been raised around people who had seen the Light and were able therefore to cast Light into our lives. Some of us are more like those Isaiah refers to when he says, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone." (And, sidebar: I love the wording of that second phrase. We dwelt, were comfortable staying in, a land of deep darkness. Yet He shone His light on us.) Just as we all see varying shades of the same colors, we all come from various shades of darkness. Some come from deep darkness, and some come from dusky, there's-a-lamp-on-in-the-next-room darkness. No matter the shade of darkness we come from or currently reside in, we all need a remedy.
If you've ever walked from a cozy, dark house into the brightness of midday, you know what it feels like physically to go from 'deep darkness' to 'great light'.  Maybe you've been deep asleep in a pitch black room and had a flashlight shone straight in your face. It hurts your eyes, they might water, you have to squint or shield your eyes for a solid minute until they adjust. The only remedy is to stay in the light, because once your eyes adjust to it, it stops hurting. If you go out into the light, realize its brightness, then say "Nope, going back inside," the only thing that does is delay the discomfort or pain. At some point we each have to face the light.

     For each of us, the Holy Spirit becomes the vision correction we need. Whether He is correcting nearsightedness, farsightedness, or anything in between, the beautiful part is that He isn't just the go-between for us to approach the Father, He is our teacher. He isn't just our 'glasses', He is our eye surgery. He teaches us, slowly, to see everything in the light of God's truth. To see things in the light of Christ. As He teaches our eyes how to see, He is healing them. With each opportunity to see our world and our lives God's way, He is giving us an opportunity for our impaired vision to be redeemed and healed a bit more. Each time you and I choose to step out of our darkness and filter our lives through the truth and light of God's Spirit, we become a little less impaired, and our spiritual eyes see things a little bit more like He does.

     The problem is, sometimes I don't want to do that, because that is when I see myself most clearly, and I don't like that self a whole bunch, especially in comparison to Christ's unblemished perfection. I'm realizing, however, that seeing my attempted 'righteousness' as filthy, excrement-covered rags is really good for my puffy, prideful heart. We all need that dose of humility from time to time (for me, from minute to minute). When I see my flesh and human heart as they truly are, it makes me incapable of puffing myself up above others or against Christ. It flattens me, and pushes my teary face down to the foot of the Cross. What's insane is that God is more good-filled (is that a thing? Does that make sense? I'm making it a thing) than just that. He doesn't leave us crying at our own filth. He washes us and clothes us in His true righteousness. He give us His eyes. Thankfully, just as God gives us the ability to see the things around us with His vision, when He saves us, He also gives us the ability to see ourselves as He sees us- washed by the blood of the Lamb. By His grace and sacrifice, we too stand unblemished but humbled by His goodness.

     I love that His vision makes it impossible for us to take Earth too seriously. You know how when you get self-focused, it's easy for everything good to puff you up with pride and everything bad to make you wail, "this is the end of the world! It has never been worse than this!"? I'm noticing that when I see with His eyes, it balances out the highs and lows. Keeping my eyes focused on eternity and Christ's absolute truth keeps my heart and spirit stable. When I'm viewing my life through the eyes of Christ, I see just a few things that are truly meaningful, genuine, or worth anything. It's like that old hymn says, "The things of Earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace." I wonder if seeing with God-vision is part of the easy yoke Jesus mentions in Matthew 11. "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” When I look around at this world with my self-vision, it weighs me down. It makes me feel heavy- do you feel that sometimes, too? Yet when I 'put on' God-vision, it is so much easier to rest. To see and react with gentleness and meekness and calm, soul-rest.

     My eyes and yours may see things differently, but when we view life through His eyes, all the shades and variations don't matter. His view of sin, of sorrow, and of joy don't change. He is always giving His children good and perfect gifts, like the gift of His vision. He is "the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change," James 1:17 says. The world around us may change, may bring us to our knees, may knock the air from our lungs, but He is constant. We may not like or understand the way he's working in us- that's how you know it is good and true work, when it is agonizing and uncomfortable. But the bottom line us that He has given us the ability to see clearly if we choose to. "God doesn't give smog, He gives clean air," as J. Vernon McGee says in his commentary on this passage in James (which I highly recommend listening to.)  It is up to you and me if we want to see the world through the smog of humanity or the the clear vision of Christ.

music that inspired these thoughts:
Mighty by Commune (from which I got the title for this blog. AND the band is some of my incredibly talented friends! Search them on iTunes!)
Today by Common Ground Band
Reckless Love by Cory Asbury
You Are My One Thing by Bethel
Be Thou My Vision by Ginny Owens
I Will Lift My Eyes by Bebo Norman

bittersweet eighteen

Today marks 18 years with Jesus. I've been looking forward to this day for a long time, thinking it would feel glowy and resplendent. St...