Faithful in the Fray

I showed Maizie a video of the trip I took to East Africa last night. I was instantly sucked back into the people, the places, the smells, and the experiences. Some of the video clips showed me doing things I forgot even happened. It’s been six years since I’ve stepped foot on African soil and while some days it feels like that was another lifetime ago, yesterday made me think I had just arrived back in America.

It’s interesting how different your life turns out to be from what you expected. Jeremy and I fully believed that we would get married, move overseas and live in a hut the rest of our lives. (Which is funny now because my view on all things missions, especially short term, has changed so drastically.)

Yet we’ve had a baby, work full time jobs in corporate America, and live in an apartment in the suburbs. We spend our evenings dreaming about the day when we’ll buy a house, and what it will look like sending Maizie off to school for the first time. Our dreams of becoming foster-to-adopt parents are more a reality than ever as I fight an unwelcomed diagnosis which could mean no more biological children. We plan trips with friends and try and soak in every moment we can with each other because we’re inevitably overbooked for the fifth weekend in a row.

I didn’t imagine my life to look this way, yet I can’t fathom anything different.

Six years ago I met a boy who changed my world, and the rest is history. We’ve walked through hell and back, more times than I’d like to admit, but we’ve created a beautiful life together, and it’s for God’s glory.

It’s hard for me sometimes to be as open and honest as I want to be. Our world is so focused on being PC (politically correct) that our thoughts and opinions get put on the back burner and before we know it, we don’t even know what we actually believe. People who don’t know you (or even worse– those that think they do) pass unwelcome judgement and then you begin to question everything.

I’m guilty of this as I’ve questioned myself and others more recently to really press into why they think the way they do, in an attempt to get to know them on a more personal level, and it’s worked. I don’t care for superficial friendships and relationships, but crave the depth that people have. If that means my circle of people close to me is small, then that’s ok. If we were once friends and now we’re not, that’s ok. People come and people go. Some are there for a season, and some a lifetime. (and some come back after seasons away!)

My days aren’t spent preaching hut to hut anymore, but simply sitting down with my friends and coworkers and getting to know them.

My life isn’t full of construction ministry in the form of building a house, but instead walking alongside someone doing their own reconstruction of heart and mind.

It’s different, this life I live, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

So while I lead worship for our House on Sundays, and work on book projects that are dreams come true, I can’t help but thank Jesus that we aren’t those kids that ran away to the middle of nowhere.

“And one day she discovered that she was fierce. And strong. And full of fire. And that not even she could hold herself back because her passion burned brighter than her fears.”

Thanks for reading my jumbled thoughts as I walked down memory lane.

I started this blog post back in August, but never finished it. I don’t think I was ready to process all that I felt while I was back in Virginia last summer, and now as I sit by my Christmas tree in the middle of the Holiday season, I’m allowing myself to reflect.

I wrote an extremely vulnerable and personal blog post about four years ago called “12 years of silence.”

I wrote about how I was sexually abused as a child by a kid in the neighborhood I grew up in and I how I didn’t tell anyone until I was 17 years old, during my senior year of High School.

Since I hit the publish button many moons ago, I have been able to share the story that God has given me with more people than I would’ve ever imagined.

To be honest, when I originally shared the post and people wrote me sharing their own stories, I wanted to be sick.

If you only knew the amount of young girls sexual abuse happens to, you too, would feel the same way.

I’ve been determined since the day I told my parents that I would do everything in my power to let others know that they are not alone, and that they have a Father in Heaven that offers complete healing.

So anyways, back to July.

Jeremy, Maizie and I took a drive up to the Philly area of Pennsylvania back in the summer for my best friend’s wedding. When we left PA, we made the trip down to Virginia in order to help break up our drive with a 15 month old, as well as show Jeremy where I grew up for the first 14ish years of my life.

I was so excited to show him my old stomping grounds, but in the back of my mind, I knew that this trip was going to be hard.

I had prayed for months leading up to the trip asking myself if I was going to show him the house and the neighborhood that held so much pain, or if I was going to skip it altogether and only show him the good parts of my childhood. Jeremy was extremely gracious and told me he was there to support whichever choice I made, and wouldn’t think twice about it.

After having dinner with friends our second night in town, we made the drive to the neighborhood and passed the house.

I could feel the oxygen start building up in my lungs turning into the development and I was sure I hadn’t been breathing for days, but a moment later I took a deep breath and felt nothing but peace.

I pointed out the basketball court where I learned how to play horse,

I showed him the spot in our front yard where a tree once was that held hours of me pretending to be a monkey,

I noted the path that led to the playground up the hill,

and then we turned around and drove away.

Initially, I didn’t feel any different. Yet as I began to allow the emotions to overtake me, I couldn’t help but cry.

Here I was, seven years after breaking my silence, having spent countless hours in therapy, months overseas, a few years married, which in itself was healing, and now with a baby in my backseat, I had come to the conclusion that:

I didn’t let him win.

Breaking my silence gave Jesus the victory over my story.

I have been determined to change and allow my life to reflect Jesus as much as possible through my healing over the last several years and I’m so glad that I made that choice. It hasn’t been easy, and I fail daily, but God is in the business of redeeming people’s lives for His Glory.

Our pastor spoke today about Jesus being the perfect gift, and how we can praise Him in a multitude of ways. Today I’m praising God with my voice because He wasn’t and still isn’t finished with me.

My story isn’t over, and the levels of my healing will only continue to deepen as time goes on.

It’s taken me a long time to sit down and write this post—but I felt like it needed to be done.

If any of this story resonates with you, whether you have experienced this first hand and never said anything, or you have been on your own healing journey, I would love to talk with you.

We’re in this together, sisters.

Break the silence.

Allow His healing to breakthrough those dark places of your heart.

Is this thing on?

It’s been quite a while since I sat down and let my fingers grace a keyboard for my own blog. In case you didn’t know, I’ve been stretching myself by writing for a blog called Gracefully Truthful. I joined the team back in December and it has been the hardest, most rewarding journey in my writing career thus far.

My personal writing, aside from the journey studies I am working on for the blog, has been hidden in the depths of my journal, sticky notes in my office, and notes on my phone. I’m constantly thinking of everything I need to write down so I don’t forget and by the time I sit down to write I’m exhausted. Can anyone relate?

If you we were sitting across from me on my couch right now I’d probably tell you about a few things that are going on in my life today.

I’d tell you about how I can’t even believe that I have a 16 month old daughter. It’s so crazy the way these tiny humans grow and develop and rely on you for every single thing. Maizie has the best family (near & far) as well as support system around her, encouraging her, and pushing her towards greatness and I can only imagine how this is going to grow and develop more over the course of her life. She is the brightest light of my life, and has brought more healing to my soul than I could ever describe in this post. She is walking all over the house right now and I’ve never been more thankful for a place with no stairs. Girlfriend gets around quick. It’s a joy being her mom. Even on the days when she’s teething, has eczema all over her legs, cries when water touches her head, and smacks my face. I promise you we don’t have it all together.

Then I’d probably tell you about how being on Jury Duty completely wrecked my life. I was so excited when I received my summons in the mail. It came right after my birthday in July, and it was like the best belated birthday present ever. When I showed up on the Monday a few weeks ago I felt like I had a responsibility to do my part as a citizen of my county, and I’m so glad that I kept that mindset the entire time. For anyone that really knows me, I have a hard time keeping things quiet, especially something like this, so you know how hard it was to not say anything for four days while the trial was going on?! One of the hardest secrets I’ve ever kept by far! I wanted to discuss the case with everyone. Although I wasn’t prepared for the emotion it evoked in me. Listening to someone’s life and the inner workings of their relationship was very difficult. I felt myself empathizing with both sides, as I was witnessing two very broken and hurt people. By the end of the week I felt drained, and left the court house praying for everyone involved and hoping they all got the help they needed in order to move forward.

We’d most likely segue into talking about the way the apartment looks and the changes Jeremy and I (okay and Alex, Chelsea, Kimberly and Brittany) made to make it more a home. This year has been incredibly difficult and instead of looking at our house as a place where so much sadness has lived, I have made it my mission to make it our home. A home where we remember the good things that have happened, like Maizie learning how to walk, and Jeremy starting school.  With curtains in every room and pictures hung on the wall, our home has become a safe place and I pray that all who walk over the threshold into it feels that way as well.

I’m sure we’d probably chat about church and what has been on my heart lately in my journey with the Lord. My church, Christ Community Church, is hands down the best church in the world. I’ve been going for a decade now and I never get tired of it. My own journey with the Lord has changed so much since I was just 15 years old and in youth group. I’m thankful for a church family that has come alongside of me to help develop the gifts Jesus has put inside of me. This church body has become a safe place that loves people. A place where we push you closer to Jesus even when it hurts. And that is a place I love to be.. well most of the time. I’m thinking of the message our pastor spoke this past week as I type this. A caveat that he added in his sermon was “stop making excuses and start making small changes.” It’s stuck with me and has been playing over and over in my mind the last 48 hours, which is what inspired this post.

I’m dusting off my keyboard and back at it. At least for now. So thanks for taking the time to hang out with my on my couch. I may or may not have eaten pancakes while we talked. 😉

p.s. I’ve updated my blog quite a bit, so click around and let me know what you think! I’d love to connect with you!