awake my soul.

october is a significant month in my life. 

it's crazy for me to think that 2 years ago i was sitting in my car, shattered by a sudden memory of pain and guilt and shame from a decade prior. 

overcome by an ocean of fear. afraid to look at myself. afraid to trust myself. afraid to trust the Lord. afraid to speak or breath or wake up the next morning. 

i understand how dramatic that sounds, but anyone who has even grazed the surface of depression knows that the feelings are real, rationality holds less weight when fear is the strongest emotion. 

it was two years ago that i was in the car [lots of moments happen for me in cars] with my mom and sister, coming home from seeing Wicked in Kansas City, mustering up the courage to tell my mom about my trauma. 

it was two years ago that i felt like part of my life, a big part of my life, ended. 

but, it was two years ago that my life began. 

two years ago a lifetime of lying and hiding and pretending came crashing down around me. 

they had to. it had to fall apart. i had to fall apart. 

if i hadn't fallen apart i never would have known the joy of being put back together. never known the joy of of utter depravity and unconditional love. 

i had to loose who i was so that i could start finding out who i am. 

i had lived countless years trying to be the person that i assumed everyone else wanted me to be. changing masks at the drop of a hat out of the insane need to be accepted and needed, valued, relevant. 

attempting to control every detail is what eventually sent it all spinning out of control. 

convenient isn't it? 

but, wasting time is not my m.o.

a lot can happen in 2 years. 

a lot of growth, a lot of renewal, a lot of forgiveness, a lot of learning, a lot of restoration. 

730 days. 

some good. some bad. some really, really bad. but, by now the good outweighs the less than. and the bad doesn't seem so bad anymore when it serves as a reminder of how far you've come, of how different life is, of how much you are loved. 

there's this story about Jesus where He's having a meal with a bunch of outcasts; hookers and thieves. the religious leaders of the day crack down on him and start grilling him on why he is spending time with such lowly humans. Jesus responds to their judgment by saying "those who are well have no need of a doctor, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners."

i love this story. i love the kindness of the heart of Christ. i love that he didn't want to hang out with the people who were performing. he loved them, but they didn't think they needed to be saved. he wanted to show the broken that they were loved and known and valued and worthy. and here i am, in the middle of that love. 

none of my life looks at all like i had planned or imagined, 2 years ago changed all that...13 years ago changed all that...the love of a creator who knows me better than i know myself changed all that. my memories and my past were altered by the truth, which was the only thing that could make way for my present and future to be lived in truth. 

everything is different than i thought it would be, but everything is just as it should be. it is right and true and good and full. i am finding who i am in who he is and for the first time ever i like the reflection. i recognize the face in the mirror and it doesn't just look like me, it is me. 

like i said, a lot can happen in 2 years...and i am fully confident that it doesn't end here. 
thanks for joining me on the journey. 

xo, a.

the waiting room.

for anyone who has ever been sick, you know the feeling...that life is measured in a series of doctors visits. sitting in waiting rooms, waiting in exam rooms, answering the same questions over and over again, rating your pain on a scale of 1-10 [what is that anyway? like sorry, the devil has a death grip on my stomach with his lava hands, but yea, i guess i'd say it's like a 7.5], you've looked through one too many People magazines,  you've talked about every single bodily function imaginable in the greatest of detail [no matter how uncomfortable], you've jumped through every hoop, had blood drawn, had tests and scans and the whole 9, waited for results, gone to follow up after follow up, and you've heard the words that are now, easily, my least favorite words to hear from a health professional...."trial and error".

[what can i say? i have an unfortunate autoimmune system.
like if you think i'm dramatic, just talk to my intestinal tract...it's the real MVP.
TNT claims that they know drama, but honestly they've never met my autoimmune system, so...]

sometimes it's hard for me to not get swallowed by the reality that the function of the body mirrors the function of the heart. broken, flawed, incomplete, lacking. it can all at once be discouraging and frustrating and overwhelming and at times even daunting...kind of a "what's next?" feeling. I mean it's been slightly more than 4 years since i first got sick + it's still not all figured out.

There's a commercial for headlights that says all you need in life is to see the next 200 feet...but honestly be it in my car or my life, i would feel more comfortable seeing more than 200 feet ahead. and yet.

like i said, sometimes it feels like having chronic illnesses just serves as a constant reminder that everything is broken. which on the one hand is good. it's good to be reminded that life here is incomplete, that we need Jesus, that we should never live under the assumption that this life is perfect.

but as i was sitting in my room a few nights ago, feeling anxious and frustrated and sad because of yet another set of doctor's visits and tests and unknown results, i had this revelation...
my future, my forever is soooooooooo much more real to me because of not only the imperfection of my heart, but also the imperfection of my body. my body is sometimes a mess. my heart is sometimes a mess. i have aches and pains and exhaustion and things that just don't make the proper connections in my body. i have selfishness and pride and greed and jealousy and things that come up short in my heart. it's messy all the same.

and just like that i am reminded of the gospel. reminded that today is not forever and this body and this heart are not the end all be all. reminded that Jesus is "making all things new" [rev. 5:21]. the heart. the body. the world. the pain. the sad. the unjust. the frustrating. all of it.
new is on it's way.
best is on it's way.
perfect is on it's way.

that's why Jesus came and lived and died and most of all came back. so that we would forever know that this is all temporary. that there's is better and wholer and completer right around the corner and all we have to do is press into Him. press into love.

for a very long time, like maybe 8 years one of my favorite verses has been habakkuk 3:18, where in the midst of turmoil and pain he says "yet I will take joy in the Lord, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation".

sure my body might not work perfectly, but if it did work perfectly i would have one less reminder that i N E E D Jesus. now and forever. i can be joyful in the broken because i know that it won't always be.

here's to being thankful for the things that don't look like they deserve thanks. here's to choosing the good in the midst of the bad and the ugly.

xo, a.

**disclaimer: remember what i said about me being dramatic? this is a bit dramatic. while yes, i do have 2 chronic illnesses, it's really not all that bad. sometimes a girl just get overwhelmed.

just a fix.

you know how when you were in high school you would make some extravagant gesture to get a boy to notice you, and then you end up crying into your pillow, feeling like a fool because he didn't notice [or pretended to not notice] or even worse he did notice and didn't care.
if you were like me you were pining for him, building him up in your mind, making him the end all be all. 

cue the icy shock of reality.  devastating. humiliating. ultimately making you feel less lovable, less worthy, less valued. unless you are decidedly the most confident human being in the world, you've felt the sting of this particular type of defeat.

and here's the thing, when you're 16 years old and you make yourself look like an idiot all for a boy, you tell yourself that S O M E D A Y things will be different. you'll grow up and change stop being so awkward and embarrassing and desperate. you see all these people around you and you think, "wow, they've got it made, they can carry on a full conversation without sounding like a total moron, one day I'll be just like them".

**if you're anything like me you suffer from the delusion that every word from your mouth is some form of comedic genius...and then it leaves your mouth and you realize that you actually just sound like some kind of off-beat combination of early '00s Amanda Bynes and late '00s Bill Cosby, so it's mostly just confusing and awkward**

and then something happens. lots of things about you change, but mostly you just stay the same. because you are you. growing up isn't a magical remedy that erases everything awkward and replaces it with tact and class and appropriate behavior. no. you stay awkward, what changes is your shell. it's like my friend Claire said to me the other day, "we just get better at pretending". and it's true,

we just get better at hiding the fact that we're all just jonesin' for our next fix of one another's attention. 

we're just a bunch of addicts hoping that next time we're the one's getting the laugh or the look. and to make matters worse there's social media, so we're also hoping to get the like or the comment.

 in the land of plenty we're all starving for more. 

i've been struck recently by the reality that a lot of people don't outgrow the strivings that have always made them feel like an idiot. old habits die hard and i think these habits die the hardest. that need to be at the top of someone else's affections. the need to be someone's #1. we all feel the longing to be tops and the pang of feeling like we're the bottom of the barrel.

the thing is, i'm 23 years old. i've lived a lifetime of feeling like i'll never measure up. a lifetime of looking like a fool. a lifetime of being a try hard. with every laugh or compliment, i realize more and more that no amount of attention will ever fill the longing. i don't want to be addicted to the affection of other people who, like me, will never measure up. 

i think there should be a group for people like me. Attention Seekers Anonymous. i think if we were honest we'd all have to be part of it. we'd all have to sit in a circle and talk about the gaping hole in the middle of our beings. it's like a tire with a hole in it, you can fill it with air all day, but the air leaves as quickly as it enters. i think if we do things right the Attention Seekers Anonymous would also be known as the body of Christ. cause at the end of my longings, strivings, searchings, hopings, jonesings [not a word. so sue me], Jesus is there. always there. filling the gap over and over again. waiting for me to remember that people will never be enough. i will never be enough. this world will never be enough. 

color me thankful that there's more to this life than other people. 

xo. ab.  

would a NORMAL person do this?

in my favorite novel one of the main characters has a younger brother, who through a series of events, comes to believe that he is a lamed vovnik...

**basically in the jewish faith they believe that there are at all times 36 righteous people inhabiting the earth who maintain the balance of good and evil and keep a connection between the people and God. don't ask me anything more, cause that's actually all i know.

...the novels focuses heavily on the fine line between normal + abnormal behavior. obviously Bird, the supposed lamed vovnik, typically falls into the abnormal category, and as a result the main character, Alma is constantly pleading with him to PLEASE ACT NORMAL. thus taking Bird through a journey that all of us have gone through, deciding if we are going to be ourselves, or be "normal". [Bird narrates a couple chapters of the story + in said chapters he frequently asks himself the question "would a NORMAL person do this", if yes, he acts, if no he modifies.]

let's face it, with or without thinking that you are one of the 36  righteous people on earth chosen by God to keep the world spinning, middle school is hard. being 12 is hard. navigating puberty and figuring out who you are is just hard. so we look at the most normal person we can find + we decide that we'll modify our behavior, hide our "worst" attributes and become like that person. we shift and mold and squeeze ourselves into a social construct that we call normalcy and decide to try and forget everything that we don't think people would like about us...all the things that make us different. all the things that make us individuals.

normalcy is a wolf in sheep's clothing. it tells us that it's good and safe and what's best and will help us fit in and have friends and not be a pariah. here's what i think. i think that another word for "normal" is "shame". when we decide to be "normal" we bury who we are, the qualities that we perceive as negative, under a thick layer of shame and mask ourselves in qualities that we have begged and borrowed from other "normal" people [which lets be honest, no one is normal. we're all acting] [also if you have read Scary Close he touches on shame on a pretty deep level in my favorite chapter].

and here's the thing. i think we are missing out on something really important. we are not understanding and believing and accepting that we were fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of an infinite, all knowing, all powerful, all loving God. it's a tale as old as time. thinking we can fill ourselves with something greater than what God has filled us with because we value His opinion less than we value the opinions of our peers. it happens. he knows. he forgives and loves us anyway. but we break his heart because where we see "abnormal" or "different" or "weird" or "unacceptable" he sees purpose and design and opportunity and His plan.

through a series of unfortunate and ill-managed events in my past i built my base layers of shame and for the next 15 years of my life they grew and developed until i was 6 feet under without any clue who i really was and who i wanted to be [which is a pretty terrifying place to find yourself as a new college graduate] and the funny thing is that being "normal" comes relatively easy to me + acting "normal" is even easier. i'm a pretty normal person, i'm not that weird, in some ways i guess you could say that according to social norms i'm pretty lucky. because for the most part i naturally fit. fitting in has never really been a stretch for me. and yet. i say all of this to show that even the most normal people find things to hide and bury and be painfully ashamed of. hiding is safe.

then yesterday i was reading isaiah 54, which is all about God's covenant of peace with His people, so basically it's beautiful and hopeful and something for us fickle, frightened people to cling to.
isaiah 54:4 says:

"fear not for you will not be ashamed;

be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced;

for you will forget the shame of your youth..."

cue the water works. i mean not really, but kinda. it's basically saying that the promise of the Lord is that the shame of our youth will be forgotten. that things that made us hide and disappear will be like chaff in the wind. how great is that? he created us and loves us and knows that much like me, people have "unfortunate and ill-managed events" that led to shame, and all of those things are void in light of HIM. because He is the one who makes us who we are. we weren't created to be "normal". 

"normal" doesn't even really exist. it is fluid; subject to change at any time. 

so i say reject "normal". we need to stop asking ourselves "would NORMAL people do this/say this?"

and start being vulnerable. shame is fear + Christ promises that perfect love casts out fear [1 john 4:18]. love, real love, is scary and uncomfortable and foreign and hard to accept, but in the same way that you have to lay into the cold and accept it in order for it to no longer feel cold, i think that we have to breath deeply and let ourselves relax into the love that tells us we are complete as we are, that we are loved and known and whole, without hiding and burying. 

that's what i need. that's what we all need. and how much more will the world see love if we stop trying to be "normal" and start being human. broken and flawed and weird and embarrassing and different, but true and honest and vulnerable? 

go forth and be not normal. 

xoxo,

ab.