Tag: Trust

My Story: God’s Story

Posted on by fearlessatheart

My story.

Before when people would ask me to share, I would be terrified—I never knew what to say, or how they would react.

Now when people ask me about my accident, I don’t mind talking about it. In telling my story, I get to tell everyone of my God who puts the stars in the night sky.

This story is about hardship and trials, but also about a God that holds me close. He wraps me in his arms and whispers in my ear, “I love you, child”.

In being His child, I’m not promised a life of ease, but He says that He will be right next to me and hold me through it. Even in the hard days—the days where it takes everything within me to get up—I see the threads of grace that God has woven into my story.

The threads He has woven into my story speak of a God who holds me when I cry but puts people in my life that understand that but don’t let me wallow in it. They speak of people that celebrate the small victories that we often take for granted like walking up stairs.

Then, it becomes His story.

His story of grace, of life, and of peace.

My accident—a year and almost 5 months ago—will forever be a milestone. It will be a time that I look back on and say “if God can do that, then He surely can do this smaller thing.”

It’s my story, but it’s also His story.

Reflections and “me too”

Posted on by fearlessatheart

This week has been a tough one, but one full of reflecting on my life.

God is good.

Life is messy.

This detour was not in my plan. The longer this detour is going on, the harder it is to cling to that fact that God is good.

A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought I would be here. I figured my life as I knew it was over. I embraced the label of disability. By God’s grace, I’ve made it this far, but it’s not without hard work.

The past 15 months have been hard, but the next year will be even harder. It’s going to be hard and exhausting work to get back to floor nursing, but it’s not impossible (as of now).

This week God reminded me that my story is valuable and needed.

My story is my story, but it’s also God’s story. God is the master storyteller.

Morgan Harper Nichols says it best in her song, “The Storyteller”:

The mountain where I climbed

The Valley where I fell

You were there all along

That’s the story I’ll tell

You brought the pieces together

Made me this storyteller

Now I know it is well, it is well

That’s the story I’ll tell

I shouldn’t be ashamed of my story or think that God can’t redeem or use it. When I believe that, I am greatly underestimating the grandness of His power.

I’ve been thinking about the power of “me too”. There’s something about being vulnerable and admitting “me too”. We don’t say it because we’re afraid that people will think less of us-that we destroy that perfect image in their head. The thing about being vulnerable is that there is a line to not cross. We shouldn’t air our dirty laundry under the guise of vulnerability, but also we shouldn’t be ashamed of what happened to us or what we have done if we have repented of our sins.

My story is valuable because God can use it to bring himself glory. My story points to God as my healer and hope. If I choose share about what God has done and is doing, God might use it in someone else’s life.

I just have to be faithful and say “me too”.

The Blessing of Community

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College was strange.

It is the only time in your life where you are placed in a community of people who are the same age as you for an extended period of time. You get to live life with other humans who have a similar purpose, but come from vastly different backgrounds.

My first apartment was strange. I was so used to walking across the hall for something. I had to plan to hang out with people whereas in college, they were just there.

Henry Nouwen writes, “Community is not an organization; community is a way of living; you gather around you people with whom you want to proclaim the truth that we are beloved sons and daughters of God.“

Living in a community allows us to call out in each other the aspects of God that we find in each other. The thing about living community like this, it that we first have to is to recognize in our belovedness. Nouwen shares that ministry starts “because your freedom is anchored in claiming your belovedness”.

My freedom lies in believing that I am beloved.

I remember one time, as an RA, we were asked to spend some time in solitude. It was an amazing experience because I was able to sit, just me and God, after the craziness of training. We were given this article called “Moving From Solitude To Community To Ministry” by Henry Nouwen. The article reaffirmed the vast majority of what God had been teaching me this summer.

I sat there in solitude, simply dwelling in the silence and being with God and God alone. It was important for me to sit still and listen to the voice of the one who calls me beloved.

God calls me beloved.

The more that I dwelled with that phrase, God began to speak to the corners of my heart, the center of my being, and slowly I began to accept his love for me. I sat on the edge of a pond where a gaggle of geese were relaxing. I began to watch and study the geese. A group of them flew to the opposite side of the lake to feed.

I watched as a clear leader stepped out of the water.

He took one timid step, intently watching his surroundings.

He stretched his leg out as he took another timid step.

He was constantly on guard and he took small steps forward.

Sometimes I feel like that goose. I know what God is asking us to do or accept, but I timidly step forward. Kind of like this idea of being His beloved. I step forward timidly believing that I am loved, but constantly looking for the other foot to drop. It sounds crazy because you would think that being loved would be an easy thing to accept. Meanwhile, God had become so vulnerable in his pursuit of us. He became so little, so dependent in a manger and on a cross and is begging me, “Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you really love me.” How crazy is that? The God of the universe loves me.

It is a gift freely offered by the creator of the universe.

As a result, I am more prepared to do and capable of loving others when I accept that the King of the World and Creator of the Universe loves me.

The aspect of community changes when you don’t live in the dorms anymore. I have to be more intentional about seeking out people to do life with. I am beginning a new journey.

One that reflects my belovedness.

Tenth Avenue North wraps this idea up well in their song “Beloved”.

You’re my beloved lover
I’m yours
Death shall not part us
It’s you I died for
For better or worse
Forever we’ll be
My love it unites us and it binds you to me
It’s a mystery

I am choosing to walk in the freedom of accepting that God desires me to be exactly the way he created me. He chose me to play in his story of redemption. I have a purpose in his plan. I desire to choose to live in the freedom of God. The freedom that doesn’t worry about what other people think of me.

The freedom that accepts myself for who I am—crazy, beautiful, smart, and weird.

The freedom that steps out of my comfort zone. The freedom that loves God with abandon.

The freedom that crosses oceans and roads to share the gospel.

I want to choose in to God’s desire to change the world. I want to choose in to loving people without judgement. I do not know what God has planned for this year, but I know that his plans are better thqan my plans.

God is good.

Posted on by fearlessatheart

So, I’m going to be honest-really vulnerable-with you.

I keep repeating the mantra “God is good. God is good to me. God is good at being God.” from Lysa TerKeurst, but I don’t know if deep down I truly believed them for a time.

I keep saying “this is the year of me”, but not doing anything to promote my healing.

I believed wholeheartedly that “God is good and He has a good plan” right after my accident, but the longer the journey has taken, the more I’ve found myself doubting that truth.

Life is hard.

It’s hard seeing friends do things that you used to be able to do. It’s hard. It’s hard wanting to do everything, but having to pace yourself. It’s especially hard looking forward to something but right before you leave, your brain is not having it. Life is simply hard.

Life is messy.

It’s messy when you make progress but not as much as you would like. It’s messy to want to socialize but your brain hates people.

When you’re in the valley, it’s easy to doubt the goodness of God, especially when you’re in the valley for longer than you thought you would be. This is what happened to me. I knew God was good and His plan for me was good, but recently I struggled to believe it in my soul. Life is harder than I thought. Recovery is a lot harder than I anticipated. On the 17th, it will be 15 months since my accident. I’ve come a long way, but I’m nowhere near where I desire to be. I got angry at God. I yelled at Him, wondering why he chose to save me, but not heal me completely? I shook my fists at Him, wondering why life was so hard now—why I’m 23 going on 93 (sometimes it feels that way). I feel like my youth has vanished.

The funny thing about God is that He wasn’t upset with me for being real with Him, but He didn’t let me stay there—in the pit. He put people in my life to encourage me to rise up out of the mud. It was my choice to listen to them. My mom confronted me about this fact. I was saying these things but she wasn’t seeing me do anything. I wasn’t doing therapy. I got back to driving, but that was about it. It was hard, but good having her say that to me. I didn’t really notice that I was even doing that, until she brought it to my attention. She challenged me, “Do you believe that God is good and that he has a good plan for you?” That rocked me. I thought about that and my gut response was “no”. I knew that it should be “yes”, but it was “no”. Over the next couple of weeks, God used songs and people to tell me “You are loved. You are loved more than you could ever know. I’ve got a good plan for your life. It’s hard right now, but good things are coming.”

So, I’m still struggling to figure out how to believe that when things don’t work out the way I want them to, but I believe it more than I did last month.

God is good.

God is good to me.

God is good at being God.

So, I’m choosing to believe that and fall in love with being alive.

“Because God’s writing your story and He never leaves you alone in your story, and His perfect love absorbs all your fear and His perfect grace carries all your burdens, and your story is a happily ever after because Christ bought your happily ever after so you always know how this story ends.”

Ann Voskamp

Giving in to Negative Thoughts

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A bad day does not make for a bad life (Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it).

This week, I gave into my fears, of failing, of letting people down, of being imperfect.

I have learned over the years that the only difference between an adventure and an obstacle is attitude. I gave in to my negative attitude this week. I allowed myself to follow the mental tracks of self-doubt, negativity, hesitation, and uncertainty.

I failed.

I failed in almost every area of life this week-oversleeping, and not having words. Utterly and absolutely failed.

I gave in when I allowed my failures to define my life.

I fell into old patterns of fear.

I had a bad day-a few bad days-but that does not give me permission to go down this trail fear.

I gave in and allowed my thoughts to define who God is and what He meant.

In my failures, I gave in and decided to control my life myself.

And, guess what….

I failed miserably.

I had no control of my emotions, of my life, of even my alarms.

It hurt.

Failure humbles me and reminded me that I am not the One who breathed the stars.

Just when I thought I knew that being brave and audacious meant, I was reminded that I need to be brave in my failures.

Admit my shortcomings and buck up.

Offer the failures up to the King of Kings and move on.

King David writes, “Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him” Psalms 62:5. He knew all about failure. He failed at many things, but he kept returning to the steadfastness of the Lord. He presents himself, his failures and successes, before the Lord.

Finally, at the end of the week, I gave in and accepted that God was God (C. S. Lewis). I relinquished control of my life and emotions to the One who created me.

Audaciously, I cried letting God meet me in failures. Humbly, offering them up as a meager sacrifice of my messy life.

Bravely, I accepted my humanness and let God be God.

Redeemed, I allowed myself to focus on His grace and not on my failings.

“I learned to dance with the fear that I’d been running from.”

Ben Rector.

I gave in and let God instill joy in my heart in the midst of my fears.

Vulnerability.

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Vulnerability. Community.

These words are used so often in resident life at Christian colleges that they begin to lose their meaning. We say things like “build community”, “be vulnerable and open”, and “facilitate community”.

Do we really know what we are asking for when we say these buzz words?

Vulnerability and community are incredible and beautiful aspects of belonging to a group of people. I have been blessed to be a part of a group that consistently reminds me of the value of these qualities. I’m not afraid to tell them if I’m having a bad day or I’m struggling keeping my thoughts positive.

“Vulnerability is not weakness, and the uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure we face every day are not optional. Our only choice is a question of engagement. Our willingness to own and engage with our vulnerability determines the depth of our courage and the clarity of our purpose; the level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection.”
― Brené Brown

As humans, we believe that showing people our true selves—our hurts, our desires, our passions, our insecurities—reflects that we are weak. In modern society, sharing our emotions is weak, and weakness of any sort is unacceptable. We try so hard to hide the messiness of our lives behind a thin-lipped smile or stifled laugh. We play pretend.

The reality is that vulnerability requires bravery. We are not weak when we share this part of ourselves with others. The part we hide behind our façade of “I’m OK. I’m tired. I’m busy”. These are safe answers when we do not desire to share our heart with other people. They are barriers that we need to put up because we cannot share our deepest desires and darkest secrets with every random person with whom we come into contact with.

Choosing to be vulnerable is risky and scary, but so much more rewarding than I could ever imagine. It opens the door for significant conversations about real life—the triumphs, the trials, the hurts. The very definition of the word vulnerable means “capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt, open to assault, or difficult to depend”. When we become vulnerable with other people, we are choosing to enter into this place where we open up our hearts and lives to the point where we can get hurt. This place of unknown emotions where we share our souls with other individuals. I have been challenged this semester to be real, genuine and vulnerable with the people God has placed in my life.

My default setting is to simply assume that everyone could disappear because I have moved so many times. As a result, it is hard to be vulnerable and open with people because the more I open up, the greater the possibility of hurt.

The reality is that I can avoid getting hurt by putting up barriers, but what would I miss out on?

Deep conversations about God at 3 am.

Watching God reveal strengths in my life that others point out to me through my weakness.

Accepting that I am broken so that people can see God as he works in my life.

Sharing songs that speak to my heart with a dear friend.

Sharing my story with people who truly listen.

Reflecting God’s vision of community as we forgive and love each other in our brokenness.

As I challenge myself to be audacious, I decided to choose vulnerability.

To share my heart’s story with my closest friends. To speak the truth in love. To reveal pieces of myself in layers. To not hide behind the masks I put up to protect my heart.

The more I hide behind our masks, the more hurt I become because I feel truly alone in this big, challenging world. Sometimes, all it takes is realizing that someone else struggles with the same vices or doubts. We all have wounds. We all have hurts that cause us pain. There lies that deep-seeded loneliness that emerges in the midst of every success, the feeling of worthlessness that hides behind every accomplishment, and the meaninglessness that sneaks up on the good days which causes us to seek validation in human company, not God.

When you choose to be vulnerable, you allow people to enter into the story of God’s redemption in your life.

We do not feel so alone.

The Christian walk is not one that we can do by ourselves. We need to be surrounded by people who encourage us in our journey, who move us closer to God, and challenge us to keep trusting in God’s timing.

Vulnerability is a choice that is make every day as I choose to take off my mask and simply be a broken person loving broken people.

Waiting

Posted on by fearlessatheart

Waiting.

This simple word causes many people to wince because it is associated with hard times. It is often associated with moments of disappointment or things that we want but can’t have yet.

Waiting.

There is an art of living life fully while trusting that God has a plan for you. Patience is not a virtue that I possess in any capacity. I do not like to wait for things in life, especially when I know that it is something good and worthwhile.

Remember when you were a child, waiting for Christmas day. Remember the expectations and excitement as you lay in bed thinking about the presents under the tree.

The shapes.

The noises.

The surprises.

Remember how you jumped out of bed and ran downstairs on Christmas morning because the awaited time had come.

That feeling is one of the most exciting and frustrating feelings to have.

Expectations.

Excitement.

Waiting.

Waiting for God, the Creator who breathed stars into existence, to reveal aspects of his magnificent plan.

Waiting for that next right step to take in a situation that is sticky and messy.

Waiting for that wonderful man to ride in on his white horse, or possibly a turtle, depending on how long he takes.

Waiting for those dreams, those deep, heartfelt passions, to begin to unfold in a beautiful and holy way.

As a result of this waiting, we spend a lot of time praying to God because we desire to live life completely and utterly in His will.

I was recently challenged to use this time of waiting to prepare. The first thought I had was, “Prepare for what?” I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing with this time, so how am I supposed to be prepared.

Sometimes, it feels like I am blindly preparing for a future that could go in any direction. How can I be prepared for every possible situations? What can I do in my season of waiting to keep myself from going incredibly crazy balancing the excitement of knowing?

Waiting does not mean that I am useless or stuck, it simply means that I am waiting. I can still move to further God’s kingdom in the moment. Sarah Bessey writes, “It’s a scary thing, a life-changing, paradigm-shifting thing, to honestly ask yourself this question: Am I moving with God to rescue, restore, and redeem humanity? Or am I clinging fast, eyes closed, teeth clenched, to an imperfect world’s habits and cultural customs, in full knowledge of injustice or imperfections, living at odds with God’s dream for his daughters and sons?”

Sometimes, I get so caught up in the frustration of hearing “Wait” from God that I forget to act. I forget to continue to play my part in the story God is writing for humanity. I am a small blip on in the story, but, as I wait, I should not forget where I am.

As I wait for my brain to heal, there are things I need to be doing to help make that happen. In the same way, as I wait for God to move in my life, I need to be continually seeking His will, and loving others as God loves me. Sometimes, I need to take that leap and take steps toward where God is leading as I wait for Him to reveal Himself step by step.

As I continue to wait on God, I desire to use this time to grow into the woman He is molding me into.

Trusting in the One Who Holds My Heart.

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Trust and Faith. These words radiate through my journal entries over the past couple of weeks. This past year has been a journey of learning to hold my dreams loosely as I hold tightly to the One who first instilled the dreams in my soul.

Almost 12 years ago, I left the country that I considered home. I moved across the world to a country that should be home, but felt hollow. I left my heart behind.

Confused, I wrestled with accepting this new change. How could I be more comfortable in a foreign country than the country of my birth? Moving “home” should have been exciting, but I felt numb.

Confusion. Excitement. Frustration. Betrayal.

These emotions clouded my vision of America, and encouraged my desire to travel the world. Somehow, I felt that if I travelled, I would find that piece of my heart that I had left behind and I would be whole again.

Approximately 5 years ago, as I started on my college adventure, I made it my goal to graduate and leave the country for the great beyonds. I desired to move somewhere I would be interacting with people of different cultures and backgrounds.

I chose my major and minor with the intent that going overseas was my only goal.

These past couple weeks as I began to think about my future and the reality of my dreams, I realized that my dreams had changed slightly.

I had fallen more and more in love with the idea of going overseas and changing the world, but God convicted me.

Why?

Why did I desire to go overseas? Was it because I was trusting God’s plan for my life, or was it because I was more comfortable with dirt floors and no electricity?

If I truly analyzed my motives, I would find that my reasons were selfish.

In my heart, deep, deep down, I believed that if I was not going to fit in anywhere, it would be easier to live in a different culture because then my differences would be as obvious as skin color.

Selfish reasons regardless of the fact that the outcome was others-focused. Something was changing within me. There are no words to convey how profoundly and deeply God touched my heart as I began to realize this truth.

Why?

As I searched for the answer to this question in my heart, God continued to remind me of the beautiful aspects of life where I am.

>>The beautiful Ohio sunsets.

>>The rain as it falls on a spring afternoon.

>>The vibrant colors as fall creeps in.

>>The sound of my siblings aughing down the hall.

>>The thud of books I breathe a sigh of relief after work

>>The companionship of friends

What if by dreaming big, I am putting God in a box? What if I am narrowing my view of God and life to only being happy in the mission field? What if God is asking me open my mind to different chapters in my life, not all of which includes overseas missions?

Four years ago, possibly even last year, that thought would have stunned me. I would not have considered any aspect of life but the one that took me far away to unknown people groups. Now, I am learning that my limited view of God and his plan for my life caused me to miss out on some pretty great things about life in America. I was so focused on going “home” that I lost track of the fact that America is also my home. Ten years later, God takes the emotions that used to cloud my vision of America transforming them with the grace radiating from the center of who He is.

Excitement. Joy. Gratitude. Serenity.

God transformed my view of both him and the world as I began to be content where He has placed me.

Throughout the past year, my view of God grew as He continued to burst out of every box that I attempted to put Him in. Looking back, I should not expect less from a living, loving, saving, sustaining, almighty God who shapes my heart. He placed these desires in my heart for a specific reason, but it may not look exactly as I desire it to.

As I consider the idea that God is challenging me to step out of my comfort zone and live in America now.

He places a new call in my heart.

I will follow you.

Where you go, I’ll go.

Where you stay, I’ll stay.

If this life I lose, I will follow you.

I will follow you.

God is present here, just as much as in Haiti or Nigeria. Therefore, my call is to follow God as he moves in my heart and in the lives of those around me.

A year from now, I do not know where I will be. Maybe I will be in Africa, South America, Montana, or Ohio.

I do not know where I am leading but I am realizing that God comes first.

Not my plans. Not my dreams. Not my desires.

Rather by letting go of these dreams, it frees up a hand which fits perfectly into the hand of the One who consistently show us how big He truly is.

Simply follow God first. Everything else falls into place.

In the words of Sarah Bessey, “And this is where I learned that sometimes our most holy mountain-moving faith looks more like spending our whole lives making that mountain move, rock by rock, pebble by pebble, unsexy day after daily day, casting the mountain to the sea stone by stone rather than watching a mountain suddenly rise up and cast itself.”

Sometimes, the biggest blessings come not from restricting God to a specific dream, but by letting go of those dreams to hold on to the hand of the Creator of the Universe.

Daring to Hope 

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As many of you may know, I’m on the launch team for Katie Davis Majors’ new book, Daring to Hope: Finding God’s Goodness in the Broken and the Beautiful, that comes out October 3rd. I loved Kisses from Katie, so when I heard about this opportunity, I jumped on it. I spent the first 12 years of my life as a missionary kid, so Africa is my heart’s home.
This book couldn’t have come at a better time. Almost a year ago, my life changed drastically. I was in a car accident and almost died. Due to a brain injury, my life will never be the same. I wrestled a lot with God about His goodness and will. There are times where I didn’t see much good only hard things. Katie Davis Majors wrestles with many of the same questions swirling around in my brain.
Is God really good? Does He really love us? What do you do when God doesn’t show up in the way that you asked Him to?

These are questions that plague me. 

I wrestle with God, like Jacob with the angel. I pound my fists against His chest, crying “Why me? Why does everyone else’s life seem like they’re falling into place and mine looks like a mess? Why am I suffering, I have been a good person?” When I’m in the pits of despair, I wonder if God sees me. If He sees, how hard I am working. How much courage, just getting through the day, is taking? I grieve for who I was and the dreams I had. I wonder if God is even there.

Oftentimes, in the dry, hard places, when we don’t have a clue what God is doing, or even if He is there, He is drawing us to Himself the way He always intended.

“As I gazed at the rainbow, God whispered to me a deep truth. There is so much beauty to be found in a wound that is healed, in an unlikely friendship that is forged. There is much beauty to be found when the one we have nursed for hours and prayed for many more is healed and restored, or when the child we have faithfully advised and prayed for turns back to the Truth or any other happy ending. But there is also beauty to be found in sitting and praying by the bedside of an ill friend and holding her hand just before she slips away and looks into the face of Jesus. There is beauty to be found in the desperate and many-times-repeated unanswered prayers that have time and again ushered us to His feet. There is beauty to be found in a life poured out in faithfulness and obedience, no matter the circumstance. There is beauty to be found in the unlikely places, but in so many cases, we must be facing the storm to see it. Often, to behold this beauty, to be reminded of God’s promises in such a tangible way, we must turn toward, not away from, the darkness.” Katie Davis Majors  

This book has wrecked my ideas of God and brokenness. Sometimes, God chooses not to answer our prayers the way we want. It’s hard to trust God. It’s even harder to trust in His perfect timing. We often want what we want right now.

Often, He meets us in our mess and even in our doubts and says wait. It takes a lot of bravery to hope that God will say yes, but He might say no. It’s okay to be broken. This world is messy. Tragedy happens, unspeakable things occur, hearts break, but God’s not done with us yet.

 “He uses the bending and the breaking and the dying to prepare the harvest, to prepare more for us. We reach high to the Son and He comes down and pulls us closer. We lift our heads to Him in awe and we know that there might be hard the corner but we can look expectantly even to the bowing and the breaking, even the death of all we have planned, because we know in Him there will always be more” Katie Davis Majors 

So we dare to hope because God has shown His faithfulness. We see God’s provision. He hears our cries. He weeps for us and our suffering. He walks beside us in the midst of hardships. We dare to hope because He is still on the throne.

Surrender 

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Surrender.

That’s been a theme throughout this season. I have to surrender control. I need to give up my plans. This is definitely not how I pictured my life a year ago. I would be living on my own in Akron, working with my best friend, and figuring out how to do this whole adult life.

I didn’t figure a car accident into my plans or being unemployed for 8 months. I don’t think anyone plans for life to sideswipe them.

Surrender control.

I realize how little control I have. I’m a planner. I mean I had my whole college career planned out at my second advising meeting. It is scary to realize you are not in charge of how your life will go. It is frightening to give up control-to let go of your plans, but that’s what God asks of me. I thought I had this all figured out last summer. I didn’t know what would happen after graduation, but things are more uncertain now. Sometimes, it’s challenging just getting through the day.

In church, we sang My Heart is Yours by Kristian Stanfill.

“My heart is Yours

My heart is Yours

Take it all

Take it all

My life in Your hands”

These lyrics really stood out to me. I can’t sing those lyrics, and not believe them. My life is in God’s hands-God’s perfect, caring hands. If I’m letting go of control, it is into capable hands. It’s terrifying surrendering control. It takes a lot of bravery to surrender control. It takes a lot of courage to continue to put one foot in front of the other when you have no idea what is coming.

The thing I cling to is that God is good. If he chooses not to heal me (because I believe He can), it’s about the bigger picture. It’s about God’s plan of love and redemption. So this life is not about me, it’s about God.