Create in Me A Clean Heart, Oh God

2018. Holy Cow.

This past year has had so many stories and memories and journeys. Literally, a year ago, my friends and I journeyed in a car to a cruise ship and spent a blissful week enjoying each other, the sun, and life. Just a few months after that, I suddenly lost my job. On the very last day of that job, after getting rejected from one and having to turn down another due to reliability, I got offered a job at a company that I didn’t even really consider. A few months later, I got promoted and moved to a super great team and a new portfolio. A few months after that, I lost that portfolio (like as of a few weeks ago) and have moved to a new, temporary team. Over the course of the year, I struggled. I struggled with being so concerned with where I was. I struggled with who I had become compared to who I used to be. I struggled with fear of failure. Not failing at something, but of failing at me; at missing my calling and messing everything up forever. (Hey, I’m in my early 20’s). I was afraid that my life was going to be this mediocre, non-impactful blob. I feared.

You know what I didn’t do? Pray. At least until I couldn’t do it on my own anymore. You would think that I would’ve learned by now, but old habits die hard. So I started to pray. I asked for God to reveal something to me, to show me my path, to make my destination even just a little bit visible. Well. He didn’t. But what he did do was give me peace. He gave me discernment. He gave me wisdom. He gave me love.

Love. How intricate love can be. Love is the most overstated and underestimated thing in the world. We typically associate that into two, maybe three, categories: romantic, platonic, and I guess familial. But what if there was more? I discovered a lot about myself this year and what love means to me. I used to think platonic and romantic love were as different as night and day. What I discovered is that platonic love is seriously underappreciated. To be in a (romantic) relationship, you need both. To have only one is to be stagnate. Maybe not at first, but eventually. I also realized that was sort of how I loved God. I mean, I loved him, but the kind of love that doesn’t quite take the back burner, but also doesn’t come close to being a solid priority. The love that “taking for-granted” doesn’t even accurately describe. Then there was my love for life. Oh life. Life sucked in the beginning of 2017 and I was absolutely miserable. But the clouds opened and the worst parts of the beginning of that year made way for the best parts of the rest of it. I started to appreciate life’s colors again. It’s music, and the intricate details that made it what it is. And then there was my love of “friends.” My deep, close friends that I see often, the ones that I rarely see but keep in contact with, my new friends, and the people that I meet on the street, at work, or at random events. You see, I love people. I love to connect with them and to love on them. I love to serve and make memories with and give a piece of myself to people.

Due to a breakup, I found myself running to things for entertainment. I was on facebook every two seconds and was so disappointed when I didn’t have a new notification. I was constantly checking snap chat and even started going onto instagram again. I would binge netflix shows for hours and would be so bored but desperate to have something entertain me. Well, that’s super sad. So I decided to do a social media/netflix/hulu/as-much-as-I-could-phone fast starting November 1st that would last the rest of the year. I had a few exceptions since this was to focus connecting more with people. One was that I could still reply to people via social media or other avenues as this was yet another way to keep in contact with people not near me. Also, if my roommates were watching something, I would watch with them. To bond. Obvi. Well I failed at the phone thing, but taking a step back from social media was surprisingly refreshing. I’ve never really had too much of an issue of comparing my life to other’s, but I no longer relied on it for entertainment. I didn’t hide behind my phone, and I forced myself to interact more with strangers and smile and say hi and not pretend that they weren’t there. Just not hiding behind my phone made me crave delving into relationships all the more. I started appreciating my roommates even more than I did before. Although they’re pretty awesome. I started to enjoy hanging out with my friend group EVEN more. And I joined a life group at church that has led to so many great and new friendship that I get discover and develop. I have had so many great memories just in the past two months, with new friends and old than most of the year. I got to enjoy and experience, but I also got to share. I got to grow. I got to learn.

I feel like it’s been a while since I truly learned. Not just academically since I’ve been out of college, but relational and spiritually as well. The most important thing I learned this year was to be loved by God. Truly and earnestly loved. And I learned how to receive it. I have always known how to give, but now I am learning how to give with a truly whole heart. I am learning that I actually may not need to know all the answers. I am learning that greatest moments of love that I have experienced are not what I was expected or planned.
In the beginning of November, I went on a retreat. The experience and what I learned and went through deserves a blog and a half, but one thing we did was sing a song about preparing our hearts. “Create in my a clean heart, Oh God.” I’m not one for resolutions because habits and I are not “friends,” but this year, I want my heart to be open. Open to new experiences, open to change, open to trials and joys. Open to whatever life has to throw at me this year. Last year I worried. This year, I anticipate with joy.

God I Give You What I Can Today

If you have ever suffered heartache or you are at your lowest of lows, you need to listen to Lauren Daigle’s “Once and for All.”

This week has been full of heartache for me in the midst of an exhausting and relentless year. Although I don’t view this year as the best, I have been extremely blessed  and in many ways, am much better off than a year ago. But I feel worn out, wrung out, and helpless. My relationship with God has suffered and in turn my relationship with others has suffered as well. Over the past week I have been trying to take my focus off of myself and put it on God. But it has been so long and I’m so empty that it feels too foreign to give the same amount that I used to give with ease.

So what could I do? I could barely pray, barely utter the words to express what I needed. I could not externally explain what I was internally aching for. So I thought. And I thought. And I thought. As I was thinking, I was listening. Instead of listening to my podcasts and my radio shows, I got back into my music. Not the radio or greatest hits, but my worship playlist that I made 6 months ago and barely used. At the end of it Once and For All came on. This song has spoken to me in so many ways over the past two years. This week all I can focus on is the first sentence… “God I give you what I can today.”

My whole life, my walk with God has had it’s phases, but it was never really difficult to get back into the swing of things when it came to focusing and spending time with him. But this past year has been really tough. So I fell out of practice. Now that I’m not dancing, I have gotten physically weaker and have gained a few more pounds than I would care to admit. The same is happening spiritually. Forget even walking the elliptical, I can barely even make it to the spiritual gym. That got me thinking even more. What if God doesn’t want me to be the star athlete from the beginning? What if he just wants me to start? God is a person that wants to take our burdens and heal our scars. He is our lover, our best friend, and our parent. He cries when we cry and laughs when we laugh and wants us to enjoy life even more than we do. He doesn’t expect us to be perfect and wants our love and effort more than a fast but brief and temporary encounter with him. So what if all I can give is almost nothing in my eyes? Being so weak and hurt and out of shape, I honestly can’t give much. I teach a stretch and conditioning class on Monday nights and have had my students’ do a new exercise that works the arms and core. It triggers muscles that we should use, but don’t as much because they do not seem important. As we start improving our technique we discover that they are actually a secret worker on our behalf so we need to develop them just as much as the obvious muscles. Because the hidden muscles are so weak, my students cannot go very far, if at all. They start to get a little frustrated because they are not moving quickly and they are used to being able to tackle a lot with ease. Each class I have to tell someone “If you are able to move forward, even an inch, you have made massive improvement.” They don’t see it, but I do. And I know that sometimes you just have to think of taking one tiny step. And then the next one. And then the next one. Don’t focus on the next five, but the next ONE. So that is how I am approaching my healing relationship with God. The first day I gave my thoughts. The second day I added my time. And tonight I am adding part of my hurt. Unfortunately for me, I am extremely stubborn and it can be hard for me to let things go. Fortunately for me, I don’t have to run a marathon and I can add on what I give when I am given the strength the give it. Right now I am weak, but little by little, day by day, I will give more and more. I will continue to do this, on my drive in the mornings I will think, “what can I give today?”

An Open Letter To My Online Stalker

You sent me a quote, “Love me or hate me, both are in my favor. If you love me, I will forever be in your heart. If you hate me, I will forever be on your mind.”

This is my last and final response to anything and everything you send me. After this, you will never have the satisfaction of hearing from me, but I have some final words that I would like to say:

1. I will not love you, but I do not hate you. Instead, I will soon forget you which is probably the worst punishment.
2. Although I cannot love you, there is someone who can accept you unconditionally. You asked me why I was different than other girls. My answer is because of my faith. I don’t know what you are looking for or why you think that your obsession with me will fulfill it, but the answers you are looking for are with God. He can fill that void that you are trying so desperately to fill. There is a love there that fulfills, heals, and makes whole. You may not realize that you are empty, but sometimes you don’t realize you were starving until you start to get full. It is amazing how full I feel after reading the Bible and talking to my Creator.
3. I  used to be conflicted about my behavior. I felt that I was not doing my duty as a Christian to show love and forgiveness. However, I am a human and I am not capable of that type of unconditional love for everyone. That is for God. He loves all. Despite our flaws and failures; despite how many times we hurt Him; despite how many times we disobey and disregard His love and the life that He offers. He.Loves.All. Unconditionally. Irrevocably. Implicitly.
4. I am not giving my life up for you. You do not and will not have control over me. I will not lose sleep over you, I will not stress over you, I will not hate you. You tried to scare me, but I do not scare easily. I will continue life as I always have. And I pray that you find your answers and your peace from the Eternal Creator.

May God Be With You,

Jessica.

 

 

I Am NOT a Failure

Today I felt like a failure.

This isn’t unusual and happens more often than I would care to admit. It’s not something anyone says or does, I just have this recurring feeling that I’m not good enough; that I’m not doing enough; that I’m not producing enough.

I’ve felt this way since college. But I would like to point out that I’m not an overachiever: I’m not one of those kids who spent hours a day doing homework or studying to get perfect grades. I’m not one of those dancers who spent most of her free time stretching, practicing or working out. In high school, I didn’t even want be a dance major because I didn’t think I had the skill to do it professionally. If I’m going to be honest, as much as I love dance, I have never had the desire to do it professionally. But I studied dance in college anyway.

Why?

Because of my faith.

I felt like I was being called to something greater than myself. I felt like there was a great path that I was going to take and that I needed to hone my skills. I do not regret my choice, but I do regret losing my way while I was there. Even though I majored in dance for my faith, my “happiness”  and “security” soon became dependent on what others thought of me. Or at least, what I thought they thought of me. My entire college career I felt inadequate. It didn’t help that I wasn’t sure how to explain my life goals. “Why are you a dance major?” “To perform, of course!” That’s the answer everyone expects. That’s the answer everyone accepts. It feels like the only answer. But the stage was never for me. Dancers talk about the performance “high.” There is usually some sort of “peak” whether its in the beginning of the show, in the middle of a routine, or at the end. Regardless of what it is, dancers are typically glowing afterwards. Life makes sense on stage. It just feels right.

Not for me. My “peak” was never on stage. Life always made sense to me during tech when we were figuring out lights, spacing, costumes, and all the chaos that followed. I always looked forward to tech-ing more than performing. Because of this, I felt like a failure. I felt like I NEEDED to want to perform. I tried to make myself want to perform. I took all the classes I needed to take. I took more classes than I needed to take. I filled my schedule with dance classes and dance rehearsals. Yet it never seemed enough. “Why are you even be here if you don’t want to perform?” I heard it over and over again. Never directly at me, but it was always about me since that is what I felt. I loved dance class. I didn’t dislike performing. I just knew it would never make me happy.

Fast forward to graduation. I still feel the need to “do something” with dance. I needed to “try and make it” since why else would you get a degree in the arts? I got an office job and filled my life with teaching in the afternoons, evenings, and even weekends. I teach 17 classes a week and teach 5 days a week. Even with teaching, I still felt like a failure. My two best friends both got jobs with dance companies. I got jobs teaching dance at small studios. They are traveling and/or living on their own and I moved back home. It wasn’t just my dance friends, it was the same for my other friends as well. My other best friend got married. Everyone is living on their own and seem to have jobs that they love. Whereas I have a job(s) that I felt like I “should” have. I would like to clarify that I really do love teaching, but I do not want to just be a “career” teacher. Also, it was never said but implied that you can only be a good teacher if you have performance experience. I want to be a good teacher, but I don’t want to perform just to say that I did it. So again, I felt like a failure.

I wasn’t living up to the expectations that everyone else was. I wasn’t doing enough. I have a huge interest in dance and media. I love how dance can be used to express so much and you can convey so many messages through videos and pictures. Not everything needs to be expressed with words. Working on my own, personal projects brought me comfort. At least I was doing SOMETHING productive. But the reality is that I don’t have time or energy so those projects are left untouched.

Again. Failure.

And then my cousin posted a video on facebook. In this video, Steve Harvey is talking to the audience after a recording of Family Feud. He talked about how we all have gifts. Yes, I’ve heard this my whole life. Gifts: everyone has them. But then he said something that gave me new life. “I have a friend who was gifted in cutting grass. He said “no” to going out with us because he had to get up early the next day to cut so-and-so’s grass in the morning. We all laughed at him but we can’t laugh now because he owns a multi-million dollar landscape company… Because he had a gift for cutting grass.” He then went on to say that God has given us each a special and unique gift. Again, I’ve heard this all before. But the way that he emphasized it made me realize that there was a reason why I was not happy doing what I “should” do. My gift goes beyond that.

To be honest, I couldn’t exactly tell you what my “gift” specifically is. However, I can tell you what I am passionate about: I want to make people think. I want to change the way that people view God, others, and themselves. I want to use art for this. I want to use my words for this. I want to use dance for this.

I realized that I am not a failure. My gifts, my talents don’t just fit into one bubble. Yes, I may not want to perform, but that does not mean that I don’t want dance. I want to use it; to create with it; to speak through it. In order to properly use something, you have to know it well. I needed to know dance intimately; inside and out. Even though there are always new things to learn, I have experienced a lot and I notice a lot. Dance will forever be in my life. I am also drawn to many different elements of life. I love business, I’m interested in the health field, I love spending time with people. When I look at one of those things individually, I feel like a failure. I expect that piece to be the picture when it is really just a piece to a massive puzzle.

God has really been working on me lately. I’m not a New Year’s Resolution type of person, but I do have several themes for this year. My main one is “It’s Okay.” For years, I never felt like anything was truly okay. I thought that there was always something unacceptable about me even though I could never pin point it. This year though, I am going to trust that God will use me. Flaws and all. And I will trust that all of my puzzle pieces will one day fit together.

Technically, I still don’t know what my future holds or where I want my next step to be. What I do know is that God will use me in some way. It doesn’t matter if it is big or small because either way I will consider it successful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Come and Rest Here

So the church that I currently attend started this series called, “I Love My Church.” My first initial reaction was, “oh great. I’m just going to hear about how great this particular church is… awesome.” However, after the first week I was pleasantly surprised at just how wrong I was.

The church is currently under attack. Throughout the years, in one way or another, it has almost always been under attack, but with social media it is way more immediate and spreads much faster than in previous times. With everyone coming out with the problems with the church today, we are forgetting the reasons we NEED church today. Now, I’m not going to go into some political speech about reasons for the church to be the answer to everything, but I want to share why I love my church.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved going to church on it’s “off days” or pretty much every day other than Sunday or Wednesday nights. I loved going into the empty sanctuary and feeling this great sense of awe. I wasn’t struck by the beauty or had some great revelation or got emotionally invested. I was in an ordinary room with out-dated (very out-dated) carpet, the florescent lights on and people walking around the hallway doing everyday work. I loved going in because in this vast, empty room I felt enraptured; I felt secluded in the best way; I felt proximal… like the room was getting smaller and more intimate and it was me and my maker.

I remember either my freshman or sophomore year of high school and going to my friend’s house to hang out. We ended up watching The Sixth Sense which I had never seen before. For those of you who don’t know, it’s about a boy who sees and eventually interacts with dead people. Near the beginning of the movie, you see him go into a church. It is discovered that he goes there frequently and hides away for hours. We find out later that he does this because he is protected from the spirits that haunt him. Now I’m also not going to go into the whole “spirit” thing, but I’ve always loved seeing the church as a type of sanctuary; as a type of refuge.

Once I started taking dance seriously and decided to combine it with my faith, I started to have two sanctuaries: the church and the studio. Along with being a place of refuge, I’ve always loved how the sanctuary, especially, was an open place of worship. For me, I always feel closest to God when I dance. Therefore, the studio became that place for me as well. I have spent countless hours wrestling with God and myself; reveling in his grace and glory; and delving into the inspiration that he had given me. I’ve spent countless hours crying and laughing; praising and why-ing. I go through my spiritual walk in the studio. I have had trials and triumphs in my sanctuary and I feel that I am fortunate to have two places of worship. BUT, even then, the waters can get too rocky for me to always see my path.

This past year, as I’ve stated several times in previous posts, I’ve gone through a lot of ups and downs. Aside from freshman year of college, I have never felt like I was such a failure until this year. I had never felt that God had made a mistake with me – until this year. I had never thought that there was no more hope for me… until this year. I spent a lot time these past few months to try and remember why I did what I did and that, ultimately, I was not meant to be on a journey created by man. I was starting to embrace and yet still struggle with this concept until this summer when I caught a glimpse of what I want my life to be like .

This is why I love my church:

When I first started visiting Northview on Holiday breaks, I was always so disappointed that there was nothing for performing arts. I would actually get frustrated because of how much potential I saw. Over time, this vision died away until a few weeks ago. There was a tug on my heart that yearned to have some sort of artistry to give people a different viewpoint of God; to touch them in a way they had never known before. This wasn’t frustration like the past, but an actual longing and almost sadness. Then the next week, the tug was there again, but this time a vision came along with it. I heard the song and saw the movement and felt the life of it all. That night I talked to both of my parents and the small group that I had joined about my thoughts and ideas and everyone told me to contact the worship leader and so I did. I don’t know if I will be able to dance, or start my ministry the way I want to. I don’t know if it is my time or if this is just another stepping stone to a greater journey. To be honest, most of the time I feel like the most under-qualified person in the world and that is why I feel closer to my church more than ever. It is not meant for the qualified, it is meant for those chasing something greater than themselves.

However, despite my feelings mentioned above, I have listened to the song from my vision (Kari Job’es “Here”) repeatedly every day to work on bringing the movement and message to life. The verse goes, “Come and rest here. Come and lay your burdens down. Come and rest here. There is refuge for you now. You’ll find His peace, and know you’re not alone anymore… He is here. You’ll find his healing. You’re heart isn’t shattered anymore. He is here.” And this, my friends, is why I truly love my church. To me, church is not a place where you go once or twice a week to gather and hear a message, but it is also a place where you come to weep and mourn; to laugh and love; to be healed; to be broken; to be made whole. Church is where I find God. Even though, I can (and typically do) find him everywhere, it is in my sanctuary that my healing process begins and where my life is constantly being evolved. Regardless of if I dance or not, this is my place; my refuge; my shelter. This is always where I find rest.

Teach My Song to Rise to You

For a few months now, I’ve been wanting to write about my experiences during my senior year of college including graduation, worrying about the future, and the rest of the ups and downs that happen your final year of school. Then I went to Rome and I really wanted to write about my trip there. This is sort of a combination of the two. Hopefully I will be able to get back to one or both in the future, but that is not why I am writing today.

During the majority of my trip in Rome, I was emotionally overwhelmed. I was surrounded by worries and doubt along with an overflowing love for the kids that I was about to meet. On top of that, I had an overwhelming sense of loss from the city. For those of you who know me well, I don’t consider myself to normally be this emotional about things. I can get very passionate, but I consider that to be different. Regardless, I wasn’t quite sure sure how to deal with everything and on our first day of camp, I had to fight this unnecessary feeling of anxiety and urgency. “What was going to happen?” I would ask myself. We were already working with the kids. What was I going to miss out on? What would I be doing instead? Nothing. I wanted to be everywhere and be still at the same time…. that doesn’t usually work out.

Thankfully, I’ve dealt with this dilemma a few times over the years, so this time, I tried something new. I went straight to God. Now, I’m not saying that I hadn’t done this in the past, but I had to waste a lot of time worrying before realizing what I should do. When I decided to seek God in the midst of my personal chaos, I found a few songs from over the years that came back to me. One of which was the bridge to the song, “Lord, I Need You.” The words go, “Teach my song to rise to you, when temptation comes my way. When I cannot stand, I’ll fall on you. Jesus you’re my hope and stay.” There are two things that I want to mention here. First, for those of you who don’t know, I am notorious for accidentally switching up lyrics, even songs that I have known for years. With that being said, I kept replacing “song” with “soul,” however, I  think that worked out better for me anyway.

My second note is for, “when temptation comes my way.” This part of the bridge really struck a chord with me. (No pun intended) When I think of temptation, I think of the want to sin: lying, stealing, or other negative distractions/impulses. But as I had that song playing in my head all week, I realized that I was being tempted to fear. I have been dealing with a lot of fear this year. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life right after graduation, while at the same time, I knew exactly what I wanted to (eventually) do, but I had no idea how to do it or what to do in the meantime.

Right before graduation, I got a job as a property administrator. After a month, I was finally settling into my job while also convincing myself that maybe I could settle for something (my current job) that has potential for growth (promotion), that I don’t mind doing, but was completely unrelated to the purpose of getting my degree. Then I went to Rome. I was terrified that I wasn’t going to make an impact or a difference. Then I met my kids that I taught and it didn’t matter. I was sharing part of who I was: my faith, my love for dance and ministry, and I was learning who they were. There was never a moment that I did not love what I as doing, despite jet-lag and exhaustion. My fear ceased because it was meaningless. However, once it left, it came right back. Only this time, it was fear of leaving these wonderful people.

I don’t quite know how to explain it, the huge sense of loss at the thought of leaving a place where I had been at for less than a week, with a language that I only knew three words of, and where I was still very unfamiliar with the territory. Yet, there I was, feeling like I was about to leave home.  Again, I looked for comfort. I hate being irrational, and here I was, having the most irrational thoughts. The words, “Teach my soul to rise to you, when temptation comes my way. And when I cannot stand, I’ll fall on you,” kept coming back to me. I think part of the reason (aside from the fact that I am terrible with lyrics) that “soul” stood out to me so much, is because my spirit needed to be quieted; it needed to be stilled. I needed to rest in the fact that my time was being put to good use and that there was a plan for my future. My comfort was not going to come by relying on myself or others, but instead by relying on my Creator, the one who writes the songs of my heart.

Over the course of that week (and after), I have learned a few things about trusting in God. I have learned, and am still learning, to quiet my heart in the midst of confusion and chaos. I have also been given a new purpose for my future. I was reminded of what I want to do with my life, but I am also learning to have patience and let God continue to mold and strengthen me as he will. I saw a small glimpse of my future in Rome, and I have no idea when that future will be or how it will look, but I know it’s there. And until then, I will continue this chapter in my life and let my song rise past temptation and fear, and into God’s perfect plan.

“One Day My Prince Will Come”

Every girl has thought this at least once. Those who say that they haven’t are lying. Time and time again, when we have those moments when we are coming to grips with our lack of relationships, we think, “some day he will appear and all will be well.” Now, if you’re anything like me, then you have grown up knowing that a relationship is not and will not be an end to a means. Nor will it fulfill any part of us that is lacking. i.e. I will always be happy and everything that is bad will cease to exist because I have found “the one.” However, if you are also like me, then everyone and their roommate is getting married and/or engaged, and or/having babies, and/or celebrating multiple years of marriage.

Now, being only 21 and getting ready to graduate college, I have a slight phobia of getting married.This is not to say that I am against marriage. In fact, my best friend is getting married this summer and I cannot be prouder or more excited for her. For my personal life though, I have no idea where I’m headed, and I do not want to drag someone down this currently pitch-black path with me. Despite this, I still have struggles with single-ness. I have days, weeks, or months were I am perfectly content to be “on my own” and don’t even give the concept of dating or being single a thought. And then I have times where I am begging God to finally give me what I have been wanting for years. When I get to these moments, I always come back to waiting. However, the problem is with the expectation of waiting – the thinking of being released from waiting; of being rescued. The concept of being released into the euphoria that we call love, or finally being in a relationship and joining our friends.

But what if we are our own freedom? Now, I am not going to advocate the being single is the best freaking thing out there, but I am going to advocate how strong it makes you as a person. Even though I am only 21, I have dealt with many things on my own: stress, sickness, meltdowns, serious life questions, and various others things that people go through in their daily lives. I have had family and friends to turn to for support, but those moments when all you want is that one person, I had to turn to myself. Especially this past year, I have gone through a lot of self-doubt, self-questioning, and a sense of total loss. All of which I have journeyed “on my own.” As I said, I have support from family and friends, but they could not help me with any of these situations. As much as I wanted someone to lean on, I only had myself and God. With that being said, every obstacle I have overcome has made me stronger and has allowed me to discover things about myself. I see what I will be able to give my partner in the future and discover what I need vs. what I want.

However, my problem was that I was turning to myself. Usually, after a week or so of feeling frustratingly alone, I realized who I was neglecting – God. I don’t know if you know this, but God does romance. I’m not saying that I am going to became a nun and “make God the only man I commit myself to,” but he certainly has a way of mending a battered heart. With my life the way it is, I have been thinking a lot about marriage lately and one day I jokingly thought about how good of an idea of having an “arranged marriage” actually sounded. Everything would be done for me and I would not have to worry about it ever again. Then it struck me, that is exactly what is going to happen. God, in his infinite wisdom, knows exactly what I need. He also knows who’s needs I will meet. He has someone planned for me (maybe even a couple) and he knows, ultimately, who I should walk through life with. I already have an arrangement set up. I just need to wait. BUT I am not waiting to be rescued or completed. I am not waiting to start walking through life with someone, but rather, I will journey on my own until he has made it clear who he wants my companion to be and when he wants him to be revealed.

So ladies, do not think of waiting for your prince. You are already being courted, romanced, and loved by a King. In due time, he will share with you someone that he has selected for you. To join you on your already-started journey and to continue on the path made specifically for you.

Proverbs 3:5-6  Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.

**disclaimer** This article was written while on Nyquil. Although the point remains the same, any and all grammatical errors or phrase errors are, in part, due to this medication. Also why this random note has been placed in this blog posting.

The Beauty of Brokenness.

“Our greatest strength comes from when we are weakest. Not when we think we are, but when we truly are.”

Have you ever come to a moment where you are suddenly overwhelmed? Not with everything, but instead with nothing? It is where your mind, body and soul collapses and you have nothing left to give and the very notion or idea of breathing is seemingly impossible. Nothing is when you are not stuck, or lost, or frustrated but you simply are no longer. There is no rock bottom because you have moved passed the boundary that is the bottom. It is the feeling of absolute hopelessness where there is no light ahead and no tunnel to soon climb out of; nothing.

This is where we are broken.

We are shattered into a million pieces and we can no longer pick them up; we can longer try and hold them together. This is where we feel like our journey ends, because in actuality, it does. So how is this beautiful? How could our shattered, broken, and dirty pieces be something more? How will we ever gain some semblance of what we were before?

The answer is: we can’t.

Try as we might, we will never be the same again. But this is what is beautiful. In the end, we will be stronger then when we were before, yet it is not the end that is beautiful, but rather the process. The recovery and everything that comes with it is the masterpiece. I know this because I’ve been there. Actually, I still am there.

This semester has been a whirlwind. I normally have a crazy schedule, but this one was by far the worst. However, even before the school year had started, I was already having serious battles that I had no idea what to do with. This past summer I got to spend a lot of time on my spiritual development. I had many walks and talks with God and I felt myself become a new creation. Then, suddenly, I was alone and abandoned. I found myself feeling something that I had never felt before: unwanted. Because of my faith and the way my parents had raised me, I knew that this was crazy. But there it was: this feeling that God had finally given up on me. That was the first of many battles and trials that I faced. Along with the usual struggles of self-doubt, worry about the future, and fear of failure, I now had to fight the notion that God did not want me. Then, about half-way through the semester, another serious battle came along that was just as unexpected as the first one. I was in a dance class and I suddenly thought to myself, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” My life, my dedication, and my future was on the verge of coming to an end. I thought that was my weakest point, but I was somehow able to keep going. However, what broke me was about three-fourths into the semester. I can’t tell you what happened and I can’t tell you how it happened, but I just stopped. I didn’t cry, I didn’t groan, and didn’t react. I just fell to the floor and couldn’t move. After being utterly still for an hour or so, I picked myself up and posted this later that evening:

“I’ve come to this place where I don’t know how to do it anymore. Sometimes I don’t even know when I can take a breath again. For the first time, in a long time, I am at a loss for words. I’ve come to a place and I collapse; my body gives out and I have no strength. But to me, it’s beautiful. My Creator has raised me into a strong and powerful person, but I find myself unable to stand and unable to walk. So I lay down. I lay down in my Father’s lap and say, ‘Here I am. I can’t let go because there’s nothing left to give. I’m done. I am helpless.’ The beauty of having this moment is that I find myself sitting in my Father’s lap. Even though I have no strength or power, I know that I am being mended. I’m being put back together and being revitalized. I also know that I am in the hands of the greatest love that will never drop me or let me fall. He surrounds me even when I may not want Him at first, and He is always there with open arms to say, “I’m here. I am taking care of you.” So even of my lowest of lows I can say there is still hope.”

That day, when I became weakest, I also became my strongest. In sports and athletics, “the wall” is always talked about. It’s that moment where you feel as if you are about to give out completely and there is no way you can continue. Yet you push on to that point where you think you are going to be done and something significant happens. You find yourself to be better and stronger than you were before you hit the wall.

This did not happen to me. Unlike the other instances in my life and throughout this semester, I did not bounce back. There was no quick or sudden recovery. I am still recovering today and will continue to do so for a little while.

But this is where I find myself; where I find my strength because of Who I am relying on. That night, I was able to see not only what was happening, but what was going to happen. I knew I was broken. I felt myself be broken. Some days were a struggle just to breath, yet I did. And at the same time, as I lied there, shattered, I felt myself get pieced together. I felt like a patient getting wrapped up and having strong days and weak days. Or like a patient that leaves the hospital due to recovery but has to return for the relapses. The kind of mending that takes many, many failures and some small successes in order to really “be” again. This kind of process feels the ugliest. It is where we are fully exposed and have no strength to cover or protect ourselves. Instead, we must fully give in to another power and let THEM  put us back together. This is where I find the beauty. All of my broken and shattered pieces have been gathered up. Not by me, but by the One who loves me most. And he is putting me together. It burns and hurts and I am still fragile, because I am like glass. And glass is molded and put together by fire, from which it is cleansed and made new again. Though the flames may burn, I am becoming whole again. And that is beautiful.

Am I Lovely?

Lovely. Now that’s a word that I rarely hear except in movies, music, or when describing things like the weather or flowers. What does lovely even mean? Dictionary.com has four different definitions: charmingly or exquisitely beautiful; having a beauty that appeals to the heart or mind as well as to the eye; delightful or highly pleasing; of a great moral or spiritual beauty.

I’ve been told that I’m “pretty” throughout my life. However, this is mostly by my parents, a few adults, and my girl friends. I generally got comments from guys when they also hinted that they wanted something and it rarely felt that I was given a genuine compliment. Now, I’m not bashing guys, and there could be more genuine comments, but I want to point out a few more things. Even though I have heard that I’m “pretty,” very rarely have I been called “beautiful” and even less rarely have I been called “gorgeous.” At the moment, I can count on my hands the amount of times I recollect being called “beautiful,” and aside from my dad, I think I can count on one hand the times I’ve been called “gorgeous.” And by guys, the most common word was “cute” which I’ve always hated. I’ve never been one of those girls that has over 50 people to “like” my photo’s. In fact, getting over 20 is usually pretty good. (with the exception of, like, 2 out of over a thousand photos. Yes, I have a selfie problem) I don’t get stalkers anymore, and I don’t have a million guys chasing after me or falling at my feet. In fact, I don’t have any. And that’s pretty much how it’s been my entire life.

Now, I’m not telling you this to try and get someone to feel sorry for me, or to try and attract attention, or to try and receive compliments. I’m telling you this because this is how I started to see my worth and started comparing myself to others. Despite the good, I saw more of the bad. I saw the things I didn’t have; the things people didn’t say; and the things that people didn’t do. I remember being so jealous of girls that I thought would be considered “less pretty” than me or had a terrible personality, but still got tons of attention and guys really were throwing themselves at them. Not just one or two, but dozens and here I was, being told that I was supposedly attractive, but finding it harder and harder to believe. I based myself on what I was not instead of what I was.

Previously, I’ve talked about finding our own beauty and accepting who we are. Right now, I think that “accepting” who we are is exactly what we SHOULD NOT be doing. Let me elaborate. I was in a piece two years ago that used the song Que Sera Sera, and this part of the song has been standing out to me lately. “Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here’s what she says to me: Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.” Now I know I could be reading way into this and “misinterpreting” it, but to me, “whatever will be, will be” sounds a lot like settling for whatever. Yes, I understand that it’s about finding the freedom in acceptance, but what if it’s acceptance that holds us back? What if we shouldn’t settle for accepting ourselves, but rather for being proud of ourselves. For years, I accepted the fact that I was an “okay” pretty, or an “average” pretty. I thought that I could almost pull off beautiful if I actually chose to wear makeup and do my hair and wear flattering clothing instead of the sweat pants, sweat shirts and bun that I constantly wear because of dance. I thought that maybe I might reach gorgeous or stunning on my wedding day and that would be the peak of my beauty. You may laugh, but I’m not kidding. I really did think that. Since I had accepted this, though, it didn’t really bother me. I just thought that was my fate.

However, something changed my mind. God….and a little bit of Adventures in Odyssey. You see, I’ve lived my entire life in a Christian home. My parents are wonderful examples of what actively living out your life in Christ is like. My family is nowhere near perfect, but I have learned what it is like to have love and encouragement and grace. I mentioned my dad earlier and how he’s really the only person that I’ve heard call me beautiful or gorgeous. Especially gorgeous. He calls my mom that all the time, and I mean ALL the time. I’m pretty sure that 99% of the time that he compliments me I just roll my eyes. Why? Because he’s my dad. Of course he’s going to say something flattering. But he doesn’t mean it, does he? One thing about my dad is that he’s great at compliments. He has no problem going up to a stranger and telling them something that they did great at or that he was impressed with or that he liked. He’s great at encouraging. But you know what else? He also really does mean it. Whenever I go home to visit, I generally hear a story about how he saw something so cool that someone did or that he just HAD to tell them, even if he had no idea who they were. If he tells complete strangers positive and encouraging things that he truly believes, then why not even more his daughter whom he loves very deeply and knows very well. I’m not a stranger off the street, I have a connection with my dad; a deep and personal connection. Yet, sometimes I act as if I am a stranger. As if some random guy is giving me a random compliment.

This is where God comes in. Just like my dad, I’ve grown up with God. I’ve had a personal relationship with Him and it has grown to be like that of a family member or parent or best friend. I’ve heard about His many traits my whole life, and I’ve also heard my whole life about how God loves “each and every one of us the same.” Now, I realize that this is completely selfish, but I grew tired of hearing that. If He loves me the same, then how am I different than anyone else? What makes me special?

I mentioned Adventures in Odyssey earlier. If you don’t know what it is, then I feel very sorry for your childhood. I will tell you that it is generally for kids ages 7 to 12. I will also tell you that I listen to it online almost everyday. *hashtag* AIOstrong. Anyway, this episode talked about God searching for us. Now think about it, if you do or have gone to church, how often have you heard “God died for us, now it’s our turn to go to Him” in some way or another? I’ve heard a similar sermon or lesson many times, but this episode changed that. In this adventure, God searched for man. Now think about that, God gave up everything. And I mean everything to free us. He poured out His heart and has continued to since we were created. It has been broken time after time after time. When we would have said, “I’m done” years and years and years ago, God keeps saying, “not yet.” He continues to say it despite Him giving everything He loved most deeply. Even when we run away or get lost or give up fighting; even after he put everything out on the table, he still searches for us. Why would he put so much effort and energy into something or someone that wasn’t special; that wasn’t extraordinary?

And were does “lovely” fit into all of this?

Not only did AIO give me a new perspective, but so did the song “Lovely” by Shawn McDonald. This song talks about a boy who has no love in his life and is lost and searching for something. The chorus goes, “Does anybody love me? Does anyone care? Does anybody out there find me lovely?” Then it goes on for a little bit until it talks about a man who welcome him with open arms. The man then goes on to say about how he had been searching for him for a long, long time. And then the song repeats to say how he loves him and does find him lovely. “Lovely” is repeated over and over and over again. Even though this was probably for musical reasons, the fact that it was repeated so many times got me to think. I thought about the conclusions and acceptance that I had come to and then I thought, “what if I am lovely?” What if I was sought out specifically for a reason and a purpose. What if there WAS something special about me? What if I really did stand out?

I gave four definitions for the word “lovely.” I love  the one that said, “having a beauty that appeals to the heart or mind as well as to the eye.” But the one that really got me was, “of a great moral or spiritual beauty.” I loved this one because it was exactly what I wanted to be. So instead of wanting to be beautiful or gorgeous, I realized that I was, indeed, lovely. I am lovely for many reasons, and I did not accept that I was anything less than lovely. Sure, I still have days where I look in the mirror and I think, “Oh boy, Jessica, today is a rough one.” But then I have to look back in the mirror and say, “You were sought out, you were chosen, you are special. Not only are you special but it doesn’t matter if you’re hot, cute, pretty, or beautiful because you are lovely.” I started to realize that the compliments I have received over the years were not for someone else’s flattery, but because people may have actually believed what they were saying. And then I think about all the times I see someone and think, “man, she looks really nice today.” or “I’ve been meaning to tell this person that they have really been an encouragement or example or did this really well…” But I don’t say anything. If we truly think someone is “lovely,” or does something lovely, then why don’t we tell them? Why don’t we show the world that it really is loved, sought after, and that it is not only beautiful, not only gorgeous, but also lovely?

God, Make Me a Candle

Tonight, the first night in my new house, I lit a candle. This isn’t the first time I’ve lit one, but I decided to light a second one that I had not used before. I don’t know if it was my excitement for this new adventure in my life, or just the fact that I was unusually satisfied with lighting a candle, but there was something special about it. I had two candles lit, but one stood out to me. My second candle was adorably decorated with paper, which was cute enough un-lit, but transforms the look of the candle once it has a flame. The paper, as it turns out, is dark at the top and bottom, and light in the center with various decorations on it. Not only does it give the candle a pretty design, but it gave the candle a hollow appearance. However, there is more candle than paper because it doesn’t quite reach the top, but you don’t even know unless you look really closely.

When I noticed this, I thought about what it means to be a Christian. I remember in high school, my teacher and I had a talk one day about being transparent. (I went to a small, private school) He told me about how he felt like, because of his faith, he was transparent; that his skin and bones didn’t matter because of his faith and that THAT was what was seen instead. I never really understood what he mean until one day, a year or two later, when I had come back from church camp. I was in this stage where I was wrestling between accepting my faith as my own, and riding along for the journey from my parents’ faith. The week before, while at camp, I had finally given in and decided that I could no longer hide behind my parents’ shadow, but had to step out into the light on my own. The next week, while at home, I made a decision. I can’t recall if I was praying or reading my Bible or even what I decided, but I set that decision in my heart and although I can’t remember what it was, I remember what happened after: I became transparent. All of a sudden, I felt almost outside of my body. I was in full control, and I didn’t feel weak or sick, but I had this strange feeling like if people were to look at me, they would simply see straight through me to the wall in front of them. I FELT transparent. I think, for the first time in my life, I was unafraid and unashamed to show people who I was: a fully committed, completely in love, Christian.

That feeling of transparency only lasted a few minutes, but it was an electric revelation. I had forgotten about it, but when I lit the candle it all came back to me. Then I found myself asking, “what if that’s what I’m supposed to be like: a candle?” This candle, in particular, appears hollow, yet there is actually more than there looks, and at the top is the light that shines brightly. That hollowness is actually full, and to a degree, overflowing; instead of being nothing, there is more that continues on. 

The first candle I ever bought was actually a four dollar set of 12 candles. That first night I had them, I lit all 12 and my room flooded with light. It was so mesmerizing to be surrounded by this beautiful, warm, and bright light. However, they didn’t last long. As I said, they were only four dollars, which meant that they it didn’t take long for their light to start dying down. They start to get overwhelmed by the melted wax that gets worse the longer they burn and so they either go out on their own or I blow them out. However, another thing about candles is that they can always be re-lit; even the super cheap, super warped candles that only last about 5 minutes before their light starts to dim. yes, even those candles, no matter how warped and disfigured, can be re-lit. 

After I realized how fickle my cheap candles were, I decided to invest in some stronger ones that lasted much longer and were more constant, which allowed me to notice one last major thing about candles.  I noticed that, the darker the world, room, or area becomes, the brighter the light becomes. And when more candles are added, not only the does the light increase, but the presence of the light becomes felt. Earlier I mentioned being in love. I can’t say that I’ve experience that yet, but I believe that you must first be in love with God before you can be in love with man. From what I’ve heard, seen, and know of love, it is steadfast and increases over time. Even when it has moments that it seems like it would falter, it always comes back brighter. I believe, that day when I felt transparent, my candle was lit. That decision, whatever it may have been, allowed me to switch from being a cheap, un-sustaining candle, to a strong, steadfast one. And the reason why I don’t feel it anymore is because I have grown accustomed to it. My light continues to burn and my transparency continues to shine. Believe me, there have been many flickers, many falters, and a few times where I’ve been blown out. Sometimes, I still get overwhelmed by that wax that continues to grow, and sometimes my light dims a little. But I have always been re-lit and my flame may not be the brightest, but it continues to burn with passion, hope, and life. 

 

…You want to know my favorite thing about candles? They can light other ones as well.