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.

An Explanation of Sorts...

For all of my faithful followers... (which may in fact be limited to my boyfriend, my parents, and my best friend. but hey, you've gotta start somewhere, right?)

You may have noticed that I changed the name of my blog. And I finally added an "about me" by that there picture of my feet to your right. I know, it's unbelievably exciting and I'm sure you're on pins and needles waiting to read my explanation. I know it's hard, but try to contain your excitement. Here's the story.

There's a song that I absolutely love called Overcome, performed by Desperation Band. I heard it at The Ransom (one of my favorite places on earth. I'm still trying to write something that will capture that place and what it has done for me. if you haven't been there. GO! This Sunday. 9 and 11am)

Anyway, here's the lyrics.

Verse::1

Seated above, enthroned in the Father's love
Destined to die, poured out for all mankind
God's only son perfect and spotless one
He never sinned, but suffered as if he did

Prechorus
All authority, every victo-ry is Yours
All authority, every victory is Yours

Chorus
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/d/desperation_band/overcome.html ]
Savior, worthy of honor and glory, worthy of all our praise, You overcame
Jesus, awesome in power forever, awesome and great is Your name, You overcame

Verse::2

Power in hand speaking the Father's plan
You're sending us out, light in this broken land

Bridge
We will overcome by the blood of the Lamb
And the word of our testimony, everyone overcome

So. The other night was simply a bad night. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of restlessness, which I am convinced is the worst human emotion. It is, to me, simply a compilation of all the worst feelings - anger, bitterness, sadness, discontentment. All wrapped up in one terrible ball that lodges itself in your heart and won't let you function. And it simply grows like a cancer until you feel you will explode.

It makes me just want to run.

And the other night, I did explode. I broke. I cried, lashed out, and tried desperately to sort out what was making me feel this way. My saintly boyfriend tried valiantly to help me, remaining calm and patient even as I took out the worst of my restless tendencies on him. I am so thankful for him.

Finally. I simply said, Will you pray for me? And we ended up praying together for a good 45 minutes. He held me as I sorted out my peace with God. As I told Him all the things on my heart, all the things that are not saintly or beautiful, humble or Christian, but all the things that are true. I told God that I didn't really want to run to Him. I didn't want to submit to Him. I didn't really like what He was doing in my life right now. I really wasn't even happy with how He made me.

But as I talked, He spoke. As I poured out my heart, He filled me up again.

And my restlessness began to subside.

And the greatest thing is, my problems were still there. Nothing was solved. It wasn't tied up with a pretty little bow. Things weren't "alright." Because to be honest, I hate that phrase. Things are never alright. And there is absolutely no guarantee that things will ever be, "alright in the end."

But I was at peace. I had put my life back in God's hands. I had run to Him. And I knew He would hold me, even if everything wasn't "alright."

After we prayed, my boyfriend got out his guitar and simply said, "Something told me I needed to play this." And he sang this song.

I love this song. Because it will forever remind me of that night. It will forever remind me that things don't have to be alright. Because we will overcome. We will overcome by the blood of the Lamb, by the gift of His grace, by the strength of His love.

And we will overcome by the word of our testimony.

That phrase lives in my heart. It makes me believe that this passion I have for writing, this stirring in my heart, this is a gift. This is something that will make all of the difficult, painful, messy things in my life worthwhile. My words will help me overcome my past. And maybe, just maybe, by the grace of God, they will help someone else overcome too.

I entitled it the word of Our testimony instead of My testimony to remind myself that we are not in this journey alone. My family, my boyfriend, my dear, dear friends, even my coworkers and random customers, all of these people are on this journey with me. Whether or not they even share my faith, they can still teach me valuable things about my testimony, about my worth, my story, my Jesus.

So here it is. The word of our testimony. Our life, our love, our journey. We will overcome.

Adventure Is Out There!

Adventure is out there!

You could definitely say that has been the theme of my summer. And let me tell you. It’s been one hell of a summer.

I’ve never been a big fan of summer, to be honest. It was mostly just a time full of too much time and too little to do. There was a lot of sitting at home alone. And yes, I am fully aware of how pathetic that sounds. The past is the past. And embarrassing, joyful, painful or surprising, it must be shared.

The last two summers had been especially miserable. Full of fighting. Full of pain. Just another season of life to dread rather than treasure. Another aspect of my life I don’t enjoy reliving or sharing.

This summer, however. How do I put it into words? I remember sitting in the sunshine on a park bench, eating gelato with this boy. This boy I’ve been crazy about for almost two years, this boy I am now absolutely in love with. This boy who turned out to be so much more than I ever dreamed someone could be. And as I sat next to him, drinking in the sunshine, the first hints of South Dakota summer, I simply said, “I want to go on an adventure.”

And so we did.

I went on an adventure with my best friend.

And that one day began a summer full of adventure.

We seized every moment. Whenever we wanted an adventure, we sought it out. We chased life and found it. Found joy, laughter, perhaps even love? We found it in these moments of courage to choose. To choose a life that means more than what we have always known, always done, always expected of ourselves.

We were new. Life lay before us as a new creation, a new opportunity to make something that we had never had. And that was best friendship. Best friendship that gave us the courage to face each new adventure with a smile and to create memories that I will truly never forget.

Moments in time. Beautiful, beautiful moments in time.

Rain on our faces, sunshine on our backs, wind whipping around us. Conversations. Courage. Growth. Love. This has been my summer. All because we chose to seek adventure. To have courage, my dear heart.

But now the summer is drawing to a close.

And now life becomes frighteningly real.

It brings up fears. Fears like, what if this was just a summer romance? What if, now that life once again becomes frighteningly busy, overwhelmingly stressful, we will simply fall apart? Our simple joy, our constant laughter, will give way to bitter sarcasm and angry exchanges, and suddenly… what seemed so perfect will be gone.

No more adventure.

I was thinking about all these things yesterday as I had a mini-pre-schoolyear-meltdown. All the stress of return to real life was closing in on me and I was struck with the urge to run. There are moments in my life where I simply cannot handle things. I can’t even think. All I can do is run. I can’t handle things anymore. I’m just done.

Yesterday was one of those moments. I came very close to trying to run away.

But as I considered how to drop off the face of the earth and escape my problems, I was struck with a thought.

Adventure is not what you think it is. Adventure is so much more than what you have defined it as. And right now, you are facing the greatest adventure yet.

Because you see, the best kind of adventure terrifies you. It shakes you to the core of your being, challenges you beyond what you ever thought possible. It seizes you by the heart and never leaves you the same again. To adventure is to risk all that you are, all that you know.

But it is to say that in the end, it will all be worth it. It is to trust that you will come out on the other side a better, more complete person than who you were before. It is risk. Terror. It takes courage. Trust. You will never be the same again. You will come back changed. Scarred.

Is it worth it?

Or will you run away from adventure? Curl up in your hobbit-hole, content to never leave the Shire, never experience the great, terrifying world beyond the borders of what you have always known, always been.

I’ve been fascinated lately with the concept of how we are meant to live. Not how we live right now, but how we were intended by God to live. After all, He created us and decided that it was somehow best for us to live out our lives on this earth. So He must have something spectacular in store for us to make it worth it.

I am now convinced that includes adventure. The terrifying, risk-taking, life-changing kind of adventure.

So what does that look like for me? It looks like not running away. It looks like running straight to the people I love most, straight to the people I’m terrified I will lose. It means facing my fears head on and having the courage to say, I want to run, but I’m here. I’m running to you. And I’m staying with you, through everything. It means trusting that in the end, it will all be worth it. That the journey will change me for the better.

Because you see, the comforting thing for me is that you never adventure alone. Well, to be honest, that’s the scariest and most comforting thing. Because I’m still afraid of the journey. I’m still afraid that it will simply too much, even for the best of adventurers.

But adventure lies before us. The terrifying kind of adventure. And we never adventure alone. We have hope, a hope that says no, things may not be alright. They may not be easy or simply or even pleasant at times. But I put you on this earth for a reason, for living, for adventuring. And I gave you each other to help you adventure. Help you live. So trust me, trust each other. And live.

Adventure is out there! 

Sunshine. Tears.

Sunshine. Tears.

This place is so beautiful. There is so much world to see. So much we will never see, never experience. But this place, this moment, this is beautiful. This is worth savoring, remembering. Treasuring.

I came here today because God told me to. I went to read, to write, and the cheerily decorated walls, the peppy music, the overly air conditioned atmosphere began to choke me. I practically ran out the doors. God whispered the word Arrowhead to me, so here I am. Sitting on a park bench beneath the spreading arms of a friendly old grandfather tree, hearing the traffic rush past just yards away. But here, I am alone.

Alone to ponder, to wonder at the power words have over me. I discovered the writing of Ann Voskamp today, and in less than ten pages I was moved to tears. There are some writers that capture your heart from the very first page, and Ann Voskamp seems to be one of them for me.

This sounds terribly arrogant of me to say, but her writing reminds me of my own. She is reflective, contemplative, theological, and dedicated to the art of painting pictures with her words. When I read her writing, I see everything I dream my own can be. Especially my name with the phrase New York Times best selling author attached. I read an interview she did recently, and with each word she used to describe her style, process, and beliefs about writing, I thought all the more.. Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe I can actually write.

I certainly have the passion. Sometimes it scares me how much power words do have over me. Sometimes I am terrified by their ability to overwhelm me with thoughts and emotions until I literally have to run away to a place like this to get them out. They will not leave me in peace until I do.

It’s strange because for a long time I personified the stories I write, simply as a sort of rhetorical strategy. It sounded good, it sounded poetic. And to a certain extent it was true. So go for it. Right?

But now.. I think my words have taken on new power. These words, these stories.. they truly do have life and power. They cry out to me to be told and I am driven to tears until they are. Sometimes I wonder how I lived for so long without discovering this passion, how it lay quiet in my soul for so long.

But perhaps that’s just it. Perhaps it wasn’t as quiet as I think. Perhaps I simply didn’t understand how to recognize its cries. It makes sense, doesn’t it? I lived for a long time not understanding my purpose, my calling. Not even  understanding what was wrong. I learned to settle.

I think we’re all taught to settle, actually.

We’re all taught either to simply ignore the cries in our hearts, desperately wishing for something more, or we’re taught to satisfy them with lesser things. And then we’re taught that we’re fine.

You have the job. The girl. The party. The life. You’re fine. You’re fine. You are fine.

Now be ok.

But what if it’s not? What if everything simply isn’t ok? And somewhere in the depths of our souls we know it’s not fine?

Then settle. Cause God knows it’s not ok to not be ok. Hide it. Shove it away. You’re fine.

But the thing is, that’s a lie. We’ve just been taught to settle for so long that we don’t even know any longer that we are in fact settling. We think we’re living life to the fullest.

Did you know that phrase is actually from the Bible? It’s just been so bastardized, so twisted, that the Biblical concept of life has been utterly lost. Forgotten. We don’t even look for it anymore. We’ve forgotten how to crave life.

But what if we did? What if there was more? What if there was passion living in your soul, passion that could move you to the most welcome and beautiful tears that will ever slip down your face?

It’s hard to let go of settling, terrifying to admit that deep down you are not fine. That in fact in the deepest, most personal part of your soul.. you are utterly broken. It’s a fundamental change. And it is painful. It is gut-wrenching, life-altering pain.

But through it passion is set free. Life is found. Joy is awoken.

Hello, sunshine. I love to see you through my tears.