For my Parents

I packed a box today.

And as I did I was reminded of a reality that’s been slowly sinking in over the summer.

I will, in all likelihood, never live with my parents for any extended amount of time ever again.

I have said some form of that phrase in numerous conversations and varying emotions. It has been said with excitement, happy that I am spreading my proverbial wings and embarking onto what must inevitably be the next chapter of my life. But it has also been said with stark terror, laced with panic as I consider leaving the shelter of the nest for the last and most permanent time.

I’m such a homebody. When I broke up with my boyfriend last fall, I could be found curled up on my parents’ couch, waiting for them to come home on a Saturday night. And my ex knew exactly where to find me. He knew that, in my most vulnerable moment, I just wanted my parents.

I didn’t intend to go to school in my hometown, just a short fifteen minutes from my parents, but I did. And I loved it. They kept me well-supplied with food, fixed my car, moved me in and out each spring and fall, and kept me afloat in difficult times. As I said, it was to home that I turned when I ended the most difficult relationship of my life. They listened, encouraged, protected, and rebuilt what had been so broken in me.

I called my mom once when it was all simply too much and I just needed to hear her voice. During the course of the conversation, I shared a lot of things about my ex relationship that I had previously hidden from her. It was, for me, simply a moment of sharing and of letting go. But after that conversation, I got a card in the mail each week, rebuilding me, and reaffirming that they loved me and were always there for me.

It’s simple things like that. I don’t think they’ll ever know how much those meant to me. How deeply it touched me that my words were taken to heart.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m in a reflective mood. This back-to-school season has got me pondering lasts and firsts, changes and adventures, losses and gifts.

And so, yes. I am losing something. It is the last of something. It is a change from what has always been.

But it is also a first, a gift, an adventure.

Here’s what I mean. I think this time is a strange one between parents and children. The children are, for all practical purposes, adults. They have graduated high school, are nearly done with college, and have, at least hopefully, assumed most of the responsibility for their lives. Yet, they are still children. Still the sons and daughters of their parents, still the baby girls and firstborn sons. And in many ways, they always will be.

And so this transition to adulthood, this flying from the nest, is a loss and a change. And it is a difficult time. Children want to assert their independence and parents, as much as they understand it must happen, often react against it. They simply want to keep their children close. Fear of loss is a powerful thing.

This fear, this assertion, can often drive them apart. It is a classic case of miscommunication, of clinging and struggling, of misunderstanding, of terse words and hurt feelings. It is loss, loss of relationship, of communication. And it is tragic, really.

Because, quite simply, it doesn’t have to be. I honestly believe that such a time of transition can be beautiful.  It is, at least in my eyes, a transition from parenthood to friendship. For yes, we as children must always honor our parents, must always respect, always, in some ways, submit. But it is no longer parent and child. It is parent and adult. It is adult and adult, two lives, lived, connected, shared.

And this is the chance. The moment of truth. When children given a choice. No longer are they required to speak to, respect, or even acknowledge their parents. It is a moment of utter freedom, in which they choose what the course of that relationship will be for the rest of their days.

I guess in many ways, that’s where I’m standing. And in many ways, I’m simply really freakin scared. I don’t do well with change and I kind of want to be the baby chick that hides in the corner of the nest and never comes out again. I want to look at this as loss, as losing the shelter of my parents and going off alone.

But it’s not. It’s transition. It is adventure. It is gaining a new dimension of friendship with the people who gave me life and gave me a foundation. There was never a question whether or not I would maintain relationship with them here. Never. I simply cannot imagine my life without them.

But it’s still scary. It’s still hard to realize that our relationship is changing, that it is no longer up to them to support, protect and shelter me. It is for them to offer wisdom, advice, and friendship. A new kind of support, protection, and shelter. Not physical, but the support of advice, the protection of shared wisdom, and the shelter of their continuing friendship. 

For Jake

I’m dating a teacher.

That thought became very real to me today. And I was struck by the realization that I am profoundly proud of that fact.

Prior to this, I had never really given much thought to the fact that my boyfriend is a music ed major. It was simply something to tell those who asked the polite questions of Oh, who is he, how did you meet, what does he do. Well, he’s a music ed major and we met in choir. Awkward end of conversation.

Simply put, I focused far more on the music aspect, simply because that is where we connect. I myself was a violin performance major for two years before changing my major to theology & philosophy, and am still heavily involved in music of all sorts. Our mutual nerdiness over music brought us together and continues to connect us.

And to be quite honest, the education department at USF was, for the most part, simply something to complain about, to BS one’s way through, and to be constantly frustrated by. So we stuck to the music.

I don’t think a lot about teachers. And perhaps that is the problem. Most people simply don’t think about teachers. We live our busy lives and forget to take a moment to reflect. To live the examined life that Socrates spoke of. I certainly had not. But now that I have, I, inevitably, have the urge to write about it.

And here are my thoughts on teachers.

Teachers exemplify passion. Whatever area they choose to teach, they have fallen in love with it enough to literally spend their lives sharing that passion with others. They believe so strongly in what they love that they believe it is worth sharing, that indeed, it should be shared, must be shared. For the teacher, silence is simply not an option. Their burning hearts will not allow them to contain what they love so dearly. It has touched their lives in a way that nothing else have, and they believe it will touch the lives of others.

They believe. They believe more deeply than almost anyone in this world, I think. In order to teach something, you must believe it in the depths of your soul. Anything else is simply sharing information. But to teach. That is to share at the level of the soul. To transfer passion from one human being to another.

It is a lonely task, I think. It simply cannot be otherwise. After all, we do not all share the same passion. And to teach is to daily lay out the deepest passion of your heart, often to classrooms full of bored youngsters who simply want to escape. You are, in many ways, simply a cattle-herd, trying desperately to guide hyperactive children or recalcitrant adolescents through nine months of lesson plans and standardized tests.

It must be terribly discouraging sometimes, to be so often rejected. To so often look out on ones students and wonder if they understand, wonder if they will ever understand your heart’s cry or if they will simply stare blankly at you for a year until they can be shipped off to the next grade. And yet they soldier on. They are eternally creative, trying every possible combination to break the lock on their student’s mind and imagination. Because, you see, they believe their passion is worth sharing.

And I think, for every teacher, there comes a moment when they wonder if it’s worth it. Worth dealing with not only the tangled web of teenage emotion and the pure energy encapsulated in a second grader, but with the minefield of red tape that is school boards and administration. Throw in budget cuts, government mandates, and perpetually unsatisfied parents, and it must seem that forces are conspiring against them.

To share passion. That is their only goal. And too often it is the most difficult thing in the world. It is difficult practically, and it is difficult in the most gut-wrenching, personal kind of way. Each failed student is a rejection of what they so dearly love. It is a lost opportunity to help that child discover something beautiful, something they could have loved as well. Simply put, it is personal. It touches the deepest part of them.

But there comes a moment, there must always come a moment, when they manage to touch the deepest part of a student. When they meet a kindred spirit, so to speak, one whose eyes light up as they speak, who hangs on every word, and who leaves their classroom forever changed. I think those moments keep them going. Those moments are what they live for. What they sacrifice each and every day for, what they fight for, struggle for, spend sleepless nights for, weep for, long for.

Moments when they ignite passion.

And I must believe that at that moment, it is all worth it. All the struggles are forgotten, and they devote themselves to pouring as much as they can into that young life.

I have been transformed by such individuals. Such selfless individuals whose office doors are always open, who provide feedback, who challenge, who inspire, and who lead into adventure. In fact, as I reflect upon my life, most major changes in my life have been inspired by brilliant teachers who poured their heart into my life.

There are names that will forever live in my heart because of their willingness to give themselves away to their passion and to sharing that passion, whatever the sacrifice it requires. I can in all honesty say that I would not be who I am or where I am without these individuals. I only hope I can express to them the difference they have made on this one life, this one small life.

So yes. I am dating a teacher. And suffice it to say I couldn’t be more proud. 

A Thousand Things

So. I've been reading this book called 1,000 Gifts by Anne Voskamp. She was challenged to write a list of 1,000 things she's thankful for. I'd like to try my hand.

Obviously, this will be a work in progress. But here's a start. In no order whatsoever.

P. S. The further into this I get, the more beautiful it becomes. Try it, my friends. It is beautiful.

1. The smell of coffee beans roasting

2. Grace

3. Words

4. Sweaters

5. Jake

6. Big, comfy chairs

7. The ability to curl up in said chairs because I’m tiny

8. Hats

9. Summer nights

10. The first chill of fall

11. The colors of fall

12. Espresso

13. The ability to dream

14. Coffea

15. Coworkers

16. Sunsets

17. Tattoos

18. Courage

19. Scars

20. Stories

21. The sound of typing

22. Philosophical conversations

23. Whispers in the dark

24. Trees

25. The smell of autumn

26. Bonfires

27. Texting

28. Joy

29. My parents

30. My family in all its painful forms

31. Melinda

32. Photos

33. Memories

34. Acne

35. Makeup

36. Macbook

37. Music

38. Coffee

39. Mugs

40. Patience

41. Waterbottles

42. Mustard yellow

43. Promises

44. Hope

45. USF

46. Dr. Hiigel

47. Dr. Bender

48. Dr. Gregg

49. Lessons

50. Homework

51. Papers

52. Transformation

53. Repentance

54. The Ransom

55. Freedom

56. Downtown

57. Tornado sirens

58. Instagram

59. Moccasin boots

60. Big comfy sweaters

61. New mercies

62. New mornings

63. Wisdom

64. Second chances

65. Newsie hats

66. Hugs

67. Belief when you can’t believe on your own

68. Warm roasters

69. Brew methods

70. Learning

71. Growth

72. Espresso machines

73. Lattes

74. A place dedicated to excellence

75. Cupping

76. Mustaches

77. Goats

78. Israel

79. Travel

80. Adventures

81. Arrowhead Park

82. Thunder buddies for life

83. The courage to face the geese at Arrowhead Park

84. Sunshine

85. Clouds

86. Aloneness without loneliness

87. The shade of a grandfather tree

88. Blogging

89. Flowers

90. Surprises

91. Rest

92. Assurance

93. How I Met Your Mother

94. The fact that I’ve found a love like Marshall and Lily

95. Audrey Hepburn

96. Thoughtfulness

97. My nephew

98. Fedoras

99. This list

100. A change of identity

101. Nose rings

102. Pixies

103. C. S. Lewis

104. Philosophy

105. Theology

106. Wonder

107. Mystery

108. Syphon brew

109. Bread crumbs

110. Terrifying geese

111. The pure joy of a child’s giggle

112. Wind that nearly sweeps you away

113. Hearing the same short jokes over again

114. Shorty specials

115. Support

116. Encouragement

117. The kone

118. Experts who share wisdom

119. Perfect microfoam

120. Beautiful customers encountered every day

121. Connections

122. Regulars who know your name

123. Regulars who know your name

124. Learning even Rhonda isn’t crazy

125. The courage to realize that others are hurting

126. A moment that lights up a day

127. A best friend

128. No pressure

129. Leeland

130. Esther Ruth Rainbow

131. Friends you can actually, really, truly turn to in need

132. Ipod touch

133. Painted toenails

134. Inspiration

135. Iced coffee

136. Raw sugar

137. Something to look forward to

138. Brews

139. Nights at Esther’s apartment

140. Nights under the stars

141. Camping

142. Guitars

143. S’mores

144. Palisades

145. King Rock

146. Fishing

147. Worm guts

148. The feeling of scales

149. Giddy joy

150. Happy dances

151. Childlike abandon

152. High fives

153. Hugs

154. A moment when two souls meet

155. Wondering how your life became so blessed

156. Charlie

157. Bright eyes

158. A smile only for you

159. A fantastic boss

160. Peace amidst stress

161. Courage in the face of fear

162. New life where there has only been death

163. One who believes you are beautiful

164. Hollister jeans

165. Sales

166. Clearance

167. History

168. Character

169. Vintage

170. Lace

171. Coffee bags

172. Failures learned from

173. Mistakes transformed

174. Pain made joy

175. Scars made stories

176. Disfunction

177. Mailboxes

178. Terrible Saturday nights and the grace that prevails

179. Pausing to bow before the Lord

180. Grace

181. Moments of Holy Spirit takeover

182. The hope of transformation for all

183. Prayer

184. The hope it provides

185. The comfort

186. The reality of help

187. A boyfriend who wants to pray

188. Pesky flies

189. Footstools

190. An ex who makes my love appreciated

191. A love of my life

192. Indescribable eyes

193. Dreams come true

194. Mukluks

195. Notes of thankfulness scrawled across my life

196. Burundi Kiryama

197. God’s omnipresence

198. Realizing He is always there. Surely God is in this place

199. A never-ending list

200. Salt and pepper shakers

201. Grilled peppers

202. Leather

203. Slowing down

204. Living a moment

205. Treasuring life

206. Every day beauty

207. The return of beautiful people

208. Comfort among friends

209. Weakness among trusted friends

210. Grumbling turned to thankfulness

211. People-watching

212. Artwork on walls

213. Pandora

214. Water bottles

215. Warmth derived from steaming coffee

216. Compliments read over shoulders

217. Funerals

218. Wooden doors

219. Stucco

220. Childhood memories

221. Treehouses

222. Healing brought to the past

223. Showers

224. Whitening strips

225. Smooth legs

226. Teal

227. Feeling fabulous in whatever you happen to be wearing

228. Getting to know new coffees

229. Free coffee. Errrvry day.

230. Cupping a mug in your hands as you slowly wake up

231. Long drives to work

232. The breeze on your skin

233. Silent looks that say it all

234. Connections

235. Staff meetings

236. Thankfulness quelling panic

237. The power to overcome

238. The word of my testimony

239. Worship at the Ransom

240. Summer days given to reflect

241. The power of words

242. Scones

243. Warm ovens

244. The Via Delarosa

245. The streets of Jerusalem

246. Street vendors

247. The hope of travel

248. The power of truth

249. Spoken truth

250. Prayer spoken over me

251. How easy it is to find things to be thankful for

252. Moonlight

253. Toes in sand

254. Swings

255. Summer nights

256. Nighttime talks

257. Missing someone so bad it hurts

258. Needing people in your life

259. Unexpected phone calls

260. Moonlight walks

261. Thankfulness transforming a night.

262. Music videos

263. Soulmates

264. Choosing to trust

265. Every day stories

266. Foot massages

267. Mischief

268. Alison’s smile

269. Shenaniganery

270. Driving with the windows down

271. The cool of nighttime after summer heat

272. LIfelight

273. Datenight

274. Coldstone

275. Free coldstone

276. Confidence in everything you were created to be

277. Good books

278. Lessons written across every page

279. A lifetime

280. Anticipation 

281. A morning run

282. Sweat

283. Exhilaration

284. Determination

285. Running further than you thought you could

286. Cramps

287. No cramps

288. Worship mid-run 

289. Praying with eyes wide open

290. Sunrises

291. A morning breeze

292. The smell of freshly mown grass

293. Situps

294. Dietrich Bonhoeffer

295. God’s clear hand working every day

296. Sunglasses

297. Prayer mid-conversation

298. Written prayer

299. Forgiveness and repentance

300. Realizing you were the one in the wrong

301. Seeing transformation in those around you

302. Coloring books

303. Comics

304. Calvin and Hobbes

305. Paydays

306. Optimism

307. A set jaw

308. Gungor

309. All things new

310. Packing

311. Change

312. One more year

313. Timely reminders

314. God’s unending faithfulness

315. Waking up to texts in the morning

316. Conversations

317. Working

318. Accents

319. Surprise visits

320. Conscience prompts

321. Being new every morning

322. Always having a choice to be new

323. Choosing to see God

324. Choosing to acknowledge His glory

325. Choosing to be thankful

326. Ugly things made beautiful

327. Caffeine when you really need it

328. Catnaps

329. Fabulous wall posts

330. ….. Walsh?

331. Dubstep

332. Inside jokes

333. Movie quotes

334. Thunderstorms

335. Running in the rain

336. Finally. Kissing in the rain

337. Dreams come true

338. Knowing more are to come

339. The best first day back ever

340. Lazy days

341. Lazy boy chairs

342. Nap time

343. Work schedules working out

344. Cheesy comments

345. Friends

346. Fears draining away

347. Being new. Every day

348. Admitting the wrong inside of you

349. Notes from mom

350. A window to watch the lightning

351. The best memories of home

352. Growing up

353. A giant Yankees bat sprawled across the living room

354. Couches

355. Chalkboards

356. CB feeling like home

357. Nikki

358. Sierra

359. Lauren

360. The year that is to come

361. Grocery trips

362. Cereal

363. Moving

364. Unpacking

365. Time alone

366. Lists

367. Free groceries

368. Car insurance

369. Jones soda bottles

370. Jacob Arie Versteeg

371. Forgetting the past

372. A new relationship

373. Hope for the future

374. Peaceful moments

375. Not needing words

376. Savoring a sunset

377. Being unable to keep the smile back

378. Real hope, based in Christ

379. Theology classes

380. Not starting work for another week

381. My mommy coming with me to validate for the fourth year

382. A small bill for school

383. No debt

384. Getting to validate with Jake

385. Knowing we are meant to be together

386. Trusting in God’s plan

387. Resting in His love

388. Confidence in who you are

389. Silent nights in the apartment

390. The sound of rain

391. Free food

392. Leftovers

393. Realizing you have let go of the past

394. Owning your own bitterness

395. Jake’s blog posts

396. Realizing you are with someone you truly admire

397. Peace where there has always been stress

398. Constant love and support

399. Freedom from emotions

400. Time to be thankful

401. My last first night

402. My senior year

403. Four years at USF

404. Community

405. Learning to be new

406. Headaches

407. Medicinal coffee

408. Someone to miss

409. Opportunities to get to know new roommates

410. The rush soon to come

411. Choir retreat

412. Pausing to be thankful

413. Finally finishing the book you’ve been working on

414. Time to blog

415. Opportunities

416. Free groceries

417. Parents too generous

418. Parents to adore

419. Parents to turn to every time

420. A paycheck bigger than expected

421. Learning how to be a friend

422. Learning to live fearless

423. Crafty projects

424. Roommate time

425. Random visits

426. Masala lattes

427. Homework time at coffea

428. Homework

429. Greek

430. A meticulous personality

431. Bowling

432. Coffee bags

433. A room full of coffee lovers

434. A good first day

435. British accents

436. 30 Rock

437. ModgePodged notebooks

438. Keep Calm and Carry On

439. Planners

440. Stepping out

441. A devotion that says exactly what you need

442. Baking pies

443. Perfect fall weather

444. Esther 4:14

445. Discovering how much Folgers sucks

446. A classroom full of wonderful people

447. Professors you respect and admire

448. Futons

449. Reminders to be faithful

450. Falling Slowly

451. Learning, slowly.

452. Nights spent reading the Bible

453. Abandoning bowling for prayer

454. Learning from mistakes

455. Zephaniah 3

456. Learning to accept the silence

457. Seeing the adventure in life

458. Challenges that stretch

459. Simple peace

460. Returning to where you should be

461. A page full of Greek letters

462. Homework time with friends

463. Simply being in the presence of others

464. Silence

465. Sunshine through a window

466. A moment to bask in the sunshine

467. My own tree

468. Fighting panic

469. Silencing demons

470. Learning, every single day, to be new

471. Remembering to honor

472. Washing feet

473. Patience when it’s the last thing you want

474. Grapes

475. Hummus

476. Getting homework done

477. Being pleasantly surprised by a class

478. The opportunity to learn from a story

479. Facing challenges as adventure

480. Seeking inspiration wherever it may be found

481. Being nearly halfway there

482. Naps

483. Saying no to anxiety

484. Discovering lasting, real hope

485. Coffee stickers on a computer

486. Working out my faith

487. An infinitely patient boyfriend

488. Learning how to stay

489. Life groups

490. Returning to a list

491. The urge to write

492. Homework time at Coffea

493. Messages that pour out a heart’s cry

494. Goosebumps at God’s power

495. Haircuts

496. Considering God

497. Realizing the upside-down nature of the kingdom

498. Small smiles

499. New tattoos

500. Opportunities to write

501. Learning endurance

502. Learning we are in the fight of our lives

503. Lifegroups

504. The Ransom!

505. Courage to kneel

506. Owning addictions

507. Willingness to fight

508. Others willing to help you fight

509. Gut-wrenching honesty

510. Simple smiles, simple pleasures

511. The opportunity to pray for others

512. Someone to freak out with over classes

513. Random conversations

514. The ability to think deeply

515. Nights spent overwhelmed

516. Emotions that seem to overwhelm

517. The ability to be thankful for the things you don’t understand

518. God’s power to redeem

519. God’s power to teach through the worst

520. Unlimited Gravity shows

521. Unlimited Aspect

522. Choosing to honor

523. A fantastic boss

524. A wonderful job

525. The longest Thursday ever being a fantastic day

526. Learning lessons in the most unlikely of places

527. Post-it notes

528. Advanced comp

529. Reminders to get back on the path

530. Always, always hope

531. Quiet days of homework

532. Homework I can actually enjoy

533. Getting over myself

534. The courage to share myself

535. Lifegroups at The Ransom

536. Excitement

537. Anticipation

538. Surprises

539. Bread fit only for geese

540. Homework time at Arrowhead

541. Getting to see the love of my life

542. Yawns

543. Flashcards

544. The opportunity to learn Greek

545. Senioritis

546. Collier-Baker

547. A family to live with

548. Clipping my nails

549. Randomly discovering I have made an impact

550. Little milestones

551. New mercies and new mornings. Every. day.

552. An amazing job

553. Things that I can be thankful for over and over again

554. A quiet Saturday

555. Getting over myself

556. More post-it notes

557. Jackets

558. Fall

559. Leaves finally changing color

560. Grinning while you drive, seeing the colors

561. The impossibly blue sky of fall

562. Night of worship

563. Being set free from anger

564. Learning how to express anger

565. Sunday dinners

566. Pie. Seriously. Pie.

567. Madrigals

568. Weeding out sin in my life

569. Too many things to be thankful for to count, but still trying

570. Hope for those who have always seemed lost 

Let the Light In

I am the biggest barrier to my own happiness.

Why can’t I just let myself be ok?

Why can’t I just laugh at myself, laugh at my own meltdowns, and move on?

Perhaps it is as simple as that. Let yourself smile. Let yourself move on. Let yourself forget. Gain some perspective. Let the light in. Don’t stand in front of the door.

Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead and Christ will shine on you.

Have the courage to move on, to let go, to smile.

I never want to be ok on my own. I always want to somehow let others know I’m not ok.

And make them fix it for me. Make them make it all better.

But the truth is, only God can fix it. Only surrendering to Him will make it all better. And, like it or not, that’s something you have to do yourself. Others can point you to the truth, but you have to be willing to take the first step in that direction. You have to allow the Spirit in for Him to do His work.

He can’t change an unwilling heart.

So when you’re feeling overwhelmed, stop for a moment. Just hit pause. Let the Spirit in. Smile. Seriously. Physically smile. Laugh. And let it melt away.

To be ok, you have to be willing to be ok.

“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coast do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

Luke 6:27-36

I wrote the first part of this piece a while ago. I added the scripture today, planning to write some slightly melodramatic piece “to help me process” my most recent heartbreak.

You know what I did instead? I watched youtube videos.

The Harvard Sailing Team series entitled Boys will be Girls. Seriously hilarious. You should watch them.

But you know what I did after that? I texted the person I was mad at.

And I let go. Sometimes it really is as simple as that.

See, all my life I’ve been a bit dramatic. Chalk it up to my artistic personality, my sensitivity, hell, just chalk it up to my vagina, but whatever the reason, it’s true. And writing, for a long time, served simply as a way to prolong my drama, help me stew in my hurt, and internalize my bitterness. I got really good at the whole woe is me tragic stuff.

And I justified it by saying that writing helped me process. I just never realized that processing simply meant reliving all the hurt over and over and over again. It never meant moving on, forgiving, letting go. It simply meant dwelling on me. My hurts. My scars. Me. Me. And more. Fucking. Me.

Well you know what? I’m done with that. At least right now, in this moment, I’m done with that. Because you know what I realized? You don’t have to be dramatic. You don’t have to wait for some magical feeling of “letting go” or peace from God. Sometimes you don’t even have to process.

Sometimes you know exactly what you have to do and you just have to grow a pair and do it. And yes, I use that phrase intentionally. As girls, we need to learn a lesson from the wonderful men in our lives about how to stop being dramatic and just chill out about things.

Yes. I’ve been hurt. Yes. Life has, in many ways, been unfair to me. Yes. It sucks.

But you know what? There’s absolutely nothing I can do about that now. All I can do is choose to live all the things that I say I believe. And that Scripture up there says Hey. Bitch. Stop just being nice to the people who’ve never hurt you. Stop being dramatic about all the hurt you’ve supposedly suffered. You know that guy you say you love? The one who took the punishment for the sins of the entire world and endured being rejected by God for sins He didn’t commit? Yeah. He forgave you. Try showing that love to someone else.

My personal paraphrase there.

So the other day, I was pissed at a friend. She had done some stuff I didn’t like, said some stuff about me, just generally had pissed me off. And this conflict had dragged on way too long. And finally I just said you know what? I’m done with this. And I started being nice. I let go of the past, I said today is a new day, and I was there for her when she needed me.

And it turned out great.

So girls. Let’s stop being dramatic. It’s ok to hurt. It’s ok to process and cry and have moments of Yeah, life sucks. Life is pretty shitty right now. And lean on those who will always be there for you.

But after that wipe your tears, stop wallowing, put on your big girl panties and let go. Let God work in your life. Let the light in. And be new. 

Learning to be New

 I messed up today.

And I haven’t felt this shitty in a long while.

My boyfriend called me after a long and stressful meeting about his student teaching in the fall. Basically, his schedule will be crazy just with student teaching, but because he also has to live and pay tuition while getting paid absolutely nothing for student teaching, he’ll have to work at least part time on top of his full time student teaching. Yes, rambling sentence. Yes, it sucks. And yes, it’s just a little bit stressful.

He just needed to talk to me, just needed to hear my voice say everything will be ok. All I needed to do was stay positive, help him stay positive, and point him back to the truth that God will carry us through even what seems to be an impossibly stressful situation.

And I couldn’t do that.

And I had some serious relationship flashbacks.

See, when I was with Brandon, I could never talk to him. I realized after the fact that this was due to the fact that I didn’t trust him and was constantly walking on egg shells so as to not anger him. I was terrified that something I would say would set him off, and so it was nearly impossible for me to speak my mind. As a result, whenever we would have an important talk, or even when we would have an every day conversation, I would stumble, stammer, and not know how to express myself.

This, however, pissed him off possibly more than whatever I would have said and he constantly berated me for not being able to talk. I have never felt more stupid, more small, more absolutely crushed than when he said, “It’s so simple. Why can’t you just talk?”

Even now I can barely think about it without tears. He crushed me with those words.

Back to today. When Jake is stressed, I simply don’t know what to do. I need to fix something, need to make it better, but feel powerless to do so. I couldn’t just talk to him, and so I shut down. I got negative right along with him. I cried. I even told him he shouldn’t be with me because I couldn’t help him.

Honesty, folks. It’s embarrassing. But it certainly helps you get some perspective on the situation.

He told me over and over that all I needed to do was talk to him. That we always talk, that talking is what we do best. And that’s all he needed. He said it to help me. 

He just didn’t know that’s what makes me shut down the most. Because for two years I couldn’t talk. And so being told to “just talk,” is merely a reminder of two years of failure.

But that’s the past. And as much as it haunts me, I have to let go of that past and realize that today is new. I am new. And I am changed, set free from that person I used to be.

And now I have to learn how to be that new person. I think that’s really the journey of a Christian. Learning how to live in the freedom that Christ has given us. Learning how to listen to the truth. Learning to accept grace. Learning how to be new.

So the past says that this situation is too stressful. That stress will simply kill our relationship, suck the life out of it. That everything good will fall apart, that we won’t be the same people, that the worst will come out, and all my fears will be realized.

New life says that we are set free from those patterns. That no matter the circumstances, there is a good God who loves us, who is faithful to help us, to carry us, and to teach us. New life says to trust Him and to trust His influence in the lives of those we love.

The past says to despair. New life says there is always hope.

The past says to run away. New life says to remain faithful.

The past says that once you mess up, everything is done. New life says to have the humility to admit mistakes and the courage to move on and try again. 

The past says you are chained to those old mistakes, those old ways of living. New life says you are free, free to let go and be happy, to trust and have peace.

The past says when you mess up you are worthless. New life says to accept grace.

The past says you can’t talk. New life says you can. 

People

I’m fascinated by people.

Yes, that does sound strange and oddly creepy. But just think about it for a moment.

Each person you encounter on any given day has a story. They have a past, they have a life that they have lived, and they have hopes and dreams of the future they desperately desire, whether or not they believe they can ever actually achieve that future. They have hurts and joys, experiences that have shaped them into the person that they are. Just like you.

I work at Coffea Roasterie and Espresso Bar. Describing this place would need a whole other blog post about my journey into coffee snobbery, but for the moment, all that must be said is I encounter more people here than I ever have. Each day hundreds of souls walk through those doors, order their coffee, and walk out again. And it has started me thinking.

Who are these people?

And here’s the most beautiful thing about Coffea. We actually want to know. We don’t simply take orders and walk away. We engage, chat, and get to know the people who walk through our doors. We have more regulars than I could possibly imagine, and I’m convinced it’s not just because of our exceptional coffee. It’s because the people here really care. They will know you by name, talk with you. And actually care about the answer you give.

Being here, in this place, has taught me so much. The staff of this place is second to none. It honestly humbles me that I work here and was considered someone who will fit in among the exceptional group of people who work here.

And so, it has gotten me thinking about people.

I used to think I was an introvert. I was painfully shy growing up and, to be quite honest, since painful honesty seems to be the theme of this blog, was pretty bad at talking to people. I was kind of that typical unsocialized home-schooler.

Whenever someone says, “Oh, you were home-schooled? I wouldn’t have guessed,” it’s basically the highest compliment I can receive. I never want to be that again.

So yep, that was me. I know. It’s embarrassing. And it haunts me to this day. I’m afraid of being that person, but I know that person is still there. I’m so thankful to Christ for setting me free from that, and for making me new. He has made me into the person I was meant to be.

And the person I was meant to be is fascinated by people. Because before, I was just afraid of them. I avoided meeting new people or really any situation in which I wasn’t completely comfortable with all the people I was with. So basically I avoided most situations with… people.

I started to come out of my shell when I came to college. I was honestly excited to come to USF and meet new people. It was a fresh start and I was determined to make the most of it. I met a great group of friends that I treasured and had a lot of adventures with that first semester. And while it was hard to grow those friendships, I was so happy and so thankful. I was on the right track.

Then I took a two-year detour. I met a guy second semester and ended up dating him until fall of my junior year. Quick summary: He was verbally and emotionally abusive and completely controlling. Over the course of our relationship, he ended up basically cutting me off from all but one of my friends as well as my parents. He was my only relationship.

And yes, I know how completely unhealthy that was. When I broke up with him, I basically started from the ground up rebuilding my life and relationships. Thank God He placed some of the best people I could have asked for in my life.

One of the most harmful thing I inherited from that relationship was complete pessimism about people. Basically, everyone he encountered had some sort of vital flaw that kept them from being good enough for his friendship. He put down everyone he encountered without ever giving them a chance.

I adopted this pessimistic view of people. It was made worse by my severely depleted self-esteem and so I basically thought people were jerks who didn’t/wouldn’t like me.

It was a rough two years. What can I say.

So that’s the background.

Fast forward to now.

Applying to Coffea. Interviewing at Coffea. Starting at Coffea. These were all huge steps for me. It honestly scared the shit out of me. I was afraid that the old Esther would arise and I would be drained by being around all these people all the time. Customers, coworkers, it would all be too much and I would walk away from each shift drained and saddened.

People used to drain the life out of me.

But now, now the opposite is true. I am fascinated by people. I want to learn about them, know their stories, their lives, their thoughts. And yes, it’s still hard for me sometimes. Sometimes I come to work and simply don’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes I still stand awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Sometimes people do drain the life out of me.

But here’s the change. (And yes, this post is a bit scatterbrained. Bear with me) First of all, I’m ok with myself. In order to interact with people, I had to believe that I was someone worth interacting with. My view of myself, so badly damaged by an abusive relationship, had to be repaired and replaced. I had to be set free to become who I was created to be. And I had to come to terms with who I was created to be.

Believe me, that’s quite a process.

But here’s the other thing that had to change. I had to care about these other people. I had to understand that all these people are stories. They are lives, they are beautiful. Each person is a story, and each story is worth hearing. Each interaction is an opportunity, a gift.

Because here’s something else I’ve learned. We need people. We simply cannot function by ourselves. People are not a burden, they are a gift, a necessity for life.

And for me, that’s been an important distinction. I don’t think about people like objects that have to be dealt with, put up with, and worked around. They are people, just like me, who are on a journey. They have a self, a self they were created by God to be. And whether or not they have fully discovered that themselves, that self is worth discovering.

I am so thankful for the people in my life who have helped me discover who I truly am. Who took the time to see that person in me before I even knew it was there myself.

I still have trouble with people sometimes. But what it boils down to. Is that I am a beautiful person, created by God, with a story worth telling and thoughts worth sharing. And so is every person I encounter. And that takes away the fear. That sets me free from that nervous, uncomfortable feeling that always used to settle in my gut when I was around people.

And you know what’s amazing? When you believe people are beautiful, when you take the time to learn about them, learn their story, learn who they truly are.. they surprise you. With their beautiful, messy, fascinating, complex selves.

People are beautiful. Believe it. It makes life more interesting.

You are beautiful too. Believe that. It makes life absolutely beautiful.

Mom-Inspired

I had an interesting conversation with my mom the other day. And it really got me thinking. About love of all things.

I know, right? Who ever would have expected that I would think about love so much? Especially the romantic, mushy kind? But don’t worry. If anything, I’m telling you how stupid I think the modern conception of love is. Spoiler alert. If you think chick flicks are great, you might want to stop reading right now.

And yes, this conversation is greatly embellished by my thoughts on the matter. But for the moment, just pretend this is exactly how it went.

The other day I was talking to my mom about my boyfriend and she said he seemed pretty crazy about me. And I said, “Well, yeah, it’s because I’m so awesome.”

She seemed to think that was conceited for some reason.

But we left it at that. Until a few days later, when she randomly brought it up again over breakfast. And she said, Esther, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. And while I am glad you have such self-confidence, and while I’m glad he loves you for you. And I’m also glad you’re back to your old self after Brandon, I don’t think that’s why Jake loves you.

…..? Ok, Mom. Please continue.

Well, he loves you now, when you are back to your true self. The happy self, the person you were created to be. But he also loved you at your worst. He loved you when you were with Brandon. He cared about you enough to seek you out, to ask questions, to make sure you were ok, even when you were wandering so far from who you were meant to be.

So really, his love for you doesn’t depend on you. It depends on him.

That IS an exact quote. And I haven’t been able to get that out of my head since she said it.

It is one of the most beautiful thoughts I can imagine, really. To think that no matter what I do or become, no matter how many times I screw up, how many times I give in to the worst inside me, he will still love me. Simply because he chooses to love me.

Because let’s face it. There will always be someone prettier, skinnier, funnier, smarter, more sociable. Girls, you know what I’m talking about. That’s why we’re so secure, isn’t it? Why we’re terrified, possessive, controlling, manipulative? We’re terrified they’ll find someone better and leave us. Or simply get sick of how complicated we are, of all our mistakes and insecurities, and just walk away.

All these things stem from our insecurities, from our belief that we aren’t worth it. And yet, even the best self-esteem cannot keep us secure. Because, let’s be honest. Sometimes we’re not that great. Sometimes we’re just complete bitches. And we know it, we feel it, want desperately to stop it. But we just can’t. And so we unload all our stress, all our wildly vacillating emotions on the wonderful men in our lives.

And then you snap out of it and think…. Well shit. That sucked.

So what then? Then they choose to love you. They choose to love every part of you, even the ugly parts. They love you at your worst. They love to deal with your past, your tears, your insecurities, because it means getting to know you better. They love you no matter what, simply because they have chosen to.

My boyfriend has lived this for me. And believe me, it is a humbling experience. He has taught me so much about how to love someone unconditionally. And I can only hope to do the same for him.

But wait. There’s more!

Yep. Cheesy infomercial reference. I went there.

But seriously. As beautiful as that reality is, I still fear. I still fear that someday it will all be too much and that I will simply mess up too much for him. That one day we will reach the breaking point, he will shake his head and sadly say that it is all simply too much. He doesn’t love me anymore.

That is the worst thought I can imagine.

But what sets me free from the fear of that moment is something he taught me, actually. We’ve all heard the verse, “We love because He first loved us,” right? Well, most people think that verse means we love God because God first loved us. But what Jake pointed out was that it also means we can love not only God, but also ourselves and others because God first loved us. He pours love, real love, unconditional love, into us so that we can pour it out on others.

The only way we can truly love is through experiencing the love of Christ.

And that is the only way we can trust the love of others. I can trust Jake’s love because I know that it is Christ enabling him to love me. Christ is unbelievably faithful and worthy of trust. And I know that as long as Jake and I rely on Him, nothing can shake our love.

So there you have it. Christ loves us. We choose to love. We can trust. We can be set free.

To me, it returns us to paradise. To the way things were meant to be. It sets us free from the need to prove our worth, to earn love. It sets us free from that draining, exhausting struggle. From all the games and manipulation, from possessiveness. It frees us to trust.

And I love that picture.

My mom’s so wise.