“All of our temporal concerns are sweet if intermixed with godliness.” -Matthew Henry Life update ahead. Read on at your own risk because I'm currently a blubbering mess of grateful and friggin' pumped and also continually saying "wait, what? This is actually happening?" over and over and over again. I think my roommates are ready for me to leave already. Sometimes dreaming big is worth the risk, and you need to just go. Sooo this Kansas girl is heading out west!!! I will be moving to San Diego, California after graduation. (Celebrate with me because you don't have to hear me talk about figuring out the next step anymore! Aren't you blessed?) I get to work with the City of Coronado, a perfect tiny "island" (peninsula) off the coast of SD, to help kiddos have the most adventurous summer of their lil lives. I'm also gonna be volunteering with GenerateHope, an organization very similar to the Homestead. And then maybe be a barista or something because that's just fun. That being said, I don't have words to express how I feel about leaving Manhattan, Kansas, even temporarily. My time in Manhattan has shaped me and brought me abounding joy that sometimes makes me get all shaky and teary and I freeze up and go mute because it's actually unreal. These last four years have been unbelievable. I am more loved and blessed than I ever could have hoped. Seriously, I could write novels about what God's done in me here. I am undeserving of the ways he's radically changed my life and my heart, the ways he's used me, and the ways he's just loved the crap outta me. Literally. I am not who I was in 2013. Hate me for saying it, but these have been the best and most difficult four years of my life. I'm a walking cliche, I know. There's no doubt that I'll be making the most of these last six weeks here, remaining fully present to the best of my wandering little heart's ability. We all know what it's like to come to the end of chapters in our lives and feel like we're running out of time to wrap them up well. But not all chapters end perfectly. Oftentimes they end with a lot of ugly crying and hugging and even some screaming, if you feel like it. But if I've learned anything through this season of chasing after a dream, it's that God has us right where we are when we are there with the people we're with for very specific purposes. The present is part of our destiny just as much as our dreams are. Which is why it's so important to soak up the times that feel "in between" because really, they aren't. A piece of this heart o' mine has been planted here, real deep down under the prairie soil. I am thrilled for the adventures to come, but MHK has been the greatest adventure I could ask for. Maybe you'll catch me back here...who knows? (AKA, do not ask me about next fall because I don't know, okay? I just don't. AND I DON'T NEED TO KNOW, OKAY?) I'm excited to turn my sights on this new adventure. But if I'm being honest, as these dreams have solidified, I find myself freezing up. My breath has been catching in my chest. My heart skipping its usual rhythms. It's been pissing me off because THIS IS WHAT I WANTED. Come on. Why would I not just be thrilled? What's the matter, autonomic nervous system? Can't you like, just chill for a sec? (Freaky Friday, anyone? No? Okay.) I love personality tests. I love them. Because I really don't feel like I know anything about myself. I'm not the best at being self aware. And so the RHETI Enneagram test saved. my. life. No joke. Pay the twelve bucks, people. It's worth it. You will be frightened in the best way because this test knows you better than yo momma does. According to my results, I love comfortable. I love safe. I love familiar. I love my people. (Any other Sixes on the Enneagram? Raise yo hands proudly.) And I am leaving all of that. For a West Coast city I've visited twice. I think I know a total of seven people out there well enough to call 'em up. Okay, make that like four. So basically that's my worst-case-scenario. Not knowing a place very well and hardly knowing anyone. There are a million cliches I could throw out there about why I decided to pursue this dream and also why I'm now second-guessing the whole thing. But at the end of the day, my fears do not come out of truth because God does not speak words of anxiety or fear to us. And yeah, I'm leaving the best community I've ever known, and some would say that's foolish. Maybe it is. Or maybe there's another community out there that God wants to show me. Or maybe I'll be back. Honestly, I'm not just saying any of this. This could be a foolish decision. But I need to go. I don't know why. I honestly don't. Just like I didn't know why K-State was my last-resort school and then when I visited Manhattan, I was head-over-heels in love. Just like I didn't know why I felt completely at home the first time I visited a house church my freshman year. Just like I don't know why sometimes my day is nothing like I planned it to be and then it's the best kind of day you can have. My heart is overwhelmed and I don't know how to express anything well at all. I realize I'm just babbling at this point. I have so much I want to say, so much I want to make you understand, so much I want to process. I think I just want you to hear this one thing: God is with us and for us. No matter what. Tears are welling up as I write this because I am never alone. My greatest fear - loneliness - will NEVER come to fruition. How could I ask for more than that? The Lord is leading me and guiding me and he has purpose in every single second, even the toughest ones. Especially the toughest ones. I have heard this small, comforting but truthful whisper in my ear for several months now as I have been pursuing California. "This is going to be one of the most challenging summers of your life. But do not worry for a single second." Not the most revealing statement. It gives me no specifics. And I like specifics. So I've been frustrated. Because God hasn't given me a clear-cut answer about what I'm supposed to do or why. But those are words of a faithful, loving Father who sees and knows all of me and all of my life and all of eternity. He does not promise ease, comfort, or that our dreams will line up perfectly with what he brings to reality. But he promises himself. He promises that my life is not about me. That it's about how I fit into his eternal plan for restoration and redemption. And that, my friends, is more than enough to allow me to move forward towards the unknown with the confidence of a King's kid. You guys, the Lord is not indifferent towards us or our dreams. I have been reminded through this season that He blesses whatever we do if we keep holding His hand the whole way. He is ecstatic to wake up each morning and live life with us. And now I get to do just that in this freaking unreal place - what EVEN. Not to mention I'll be living with my best friend in the whole world (enter Callie). DOOOOD. Thankful. I'm just thankful. Thanks for sticking through this ridiculousness with me. You better believe there will be more to come. xoxo, Wheels
0 Comments
I am sitting in the homiest coffeehouse I've ever known, with mountains rising up into my windowed view all around. For a week, I'm nestled just east of Rocky Mountain National Park, surrounded by behemoths my eyes can scarcely absorb without question.
The sole purpose of this trip is to rest. That's my only agenda item. To breathe. To enjoy. To absorb. And yet, something inside of me will not go quietly. Some feeling coming on too strong again and again, not taking the hint that I'm just not interested right now, thank you for the offer. Some nicked layer of my heart-skin, throbbing with the stinging of a week-old slice that won't seem to clot. It's annoying, to be honest. I wish it would hush up and heal already. But I'm forced to pay attention to it because it just won't soothe, not for nothin'. And I am realizing that this sliver has been open for quite some time now. A breeze through the mountain tree line brushes it. A song rubs against it, feeling like when you catch a particularly bad hangnail on your shirt. Someone's back looks familiar and it throbs again, tangibly. What caused this breach in the protective cover of my heart-skin? It looks different for each of us. But we've all got a nick. Every single one of us. Some of our nicks are deeper than others. We've just pretended it's more like a paper cut than a stab wound. It may look a centimeter wide from the outside, but it's inches deep, nearing marrow and nerves that were never meant to be touched. Don't say you don't. It won't make it go away, just like staying in bed pretending the sun hasn't risen won't change the fact that the day is happening outside your window. My nick is one phrase: You're not enough. It's unsettling how many different things can irritate this wound of mine. Rejection. A snide comment. Getting left behind. Not having a spot saved. Getting no-thank-you emails from potential employers. A comment on someone else's Instagram. Someone not having the space in their day for you. Interruptions. Even the most well-intended acts of comfort. Ignored texts. For those of us that feel deeply - really, really deeply - it seems like no matter how much we smatter our sliced hearts with ointment, they always dry out and crack open again. And if you don't consider yourself a feeler, I can almost guarantee you have your own experience with nagging pain like this. Maybe you've just never been sure how to call it out. So we get stuck in ruts. We have a few really good days where we are grateful and laughing and excited and adventurous, and then we have a really tough day where all we can think about is that darn heart-hangnail. We get frustrated with ourselves because we're frustrated. At the end of the day we're a tangled mess of emotion and we don't know what to do with it. The best way I know how to describe this feeling is confused. We know we feel something, and maybe we knew how to pinpoint that feeling a couple days ago, but it's gotten lost in translation. We're sad and we don't know why. I'm here now. Well, I was earlier today. Before I sat down with an intimate friend and really hashed it all out. Oh, believe me, friend. The feeling is still there. It still sort of feels like someone poured rubbing alcohol all over a sliver I can't even see. But I called out the stinging. I took a shaking finger and with the help of my companion I was able to say, "That's what hurts. That's the source of it. There." You're not enough. You know what I think my real problem is? I am so damn forgetful. I know that this is my nick. I have known for awhile now. But I forget. I forget that Satan is gonna do all he can to make this nick feel like something worth nursing, worth saying sorry for, worth believing I'm deserving of. I forget that I can take away the power of the sting with just one simple move: Telling. I'll let Ann Voskamp do the talking for a moment. "You are the bravest when you speak your unbraveness. You are the safest when you are the realest. When you are the realest about your brokenness - that is when you can know you're most beloved." We forget that we have each other. We let feeling misunderstood carry us through our days, telling us no one gets it, telling us we're alone. When we let another human see our nicks, we open up doors for healing that we could have never unlocked on our own. Sometimes we think we should have a solution to our pain. We self-medicate, self-soothe, self-promote, self-everything. But have you ever thought about how you've never actually seen yourself? Sure, you can look in a mirror. You can look at a picture of yourself. But you've never actually seen yourself though someone else's eyes. And no matter how pixel-perfect, how crystal-clear, pictures are never quite like the real thing. They either don't do the subject justice, or they are so convoluted with editing tricks that reality is masked, covered up, changed. Think about it. When you look in a mirror, you can't see your whole self at once. You can't even look at both your eyes at once. But another set of human eyes? They see the real thing. They can call attention to the truth of it all, to the reality of the subject as it is right then, in that moment, in its wholeness, the way no picture or mirror ever could. If you're like me, you forget how not alone you really are. You go about your day, doin' your thing, taking care of business as usual. But something in you is resentful at the end of the day, because you don't feel like anyone's really on your side. But I can tell you one thing with absolute certainty right now. You are not alone. You're just not. Even if you hadn't had any interactions with any other human beings for decades, you're not alone. Because in the words of Patricia from P.S. I Love You (just watch it okay), "So now, all alone or not, you gotta walk ahead. Thing to remember is if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too." Someone out there needs who you are. Someone out there has been looking for you for a long time now. Someone out there wants to wrap their arms around you and call out your broken places and help you get them healed - not just hold them together for the time being. If you haven't experienced this, as tough as it is, you've got to go find it. You've got to go find it and you've got to believe it's out there. You've got to believe this life needs you to live it, and that people need you to be a person alongside them. I can tell you something else with one hundred and twenty-seven percent sureness. You will not heal without Someone. Yes, I mean other people. And yes, I mean the ultimate Healer. One more thing I know to be true. A million times over. You will not truly find Him without them. There is hope. There is healing. Our nicks are what makes us human. And they are meant to drive us to relationship. So when you don't know what to make of it all, just find someone. Ask if they have a little bit of time to listen to you. And then go find someone who needs listening to. I guarantee, your nick will be a little less noticeable and a little less controlling. "But He saves the needy from the sword of their mouth and from the hand of the mighty. So the poor have hope, and injustice shuts her mouth. Behold, blessed is the one whom God reproves; therefore despise not the discipline of the Almighty. For he wounds, but he binds up; he shatters, but his hands heal. He will deliver you from six troubles; in seven no evil shall touch you. ... You shall know that your tent is at peace, and you shall inspect your fold and miss nothing. ... Behold, this we have searched out; it is true. Hear, and know it for your good." (Job 5:15-19; 24; 27) |
Meet the writer.Hiya. Wheels, here. I enjoy all forms of espresso & days spent in the mountains of Colorado or the prairies of Kansas or the beaches of SoCal. Also, Royals baseball. Archives
February 2018
Categories
All
|