The Battle With Carbs

I love carbs.

All kind of carbs.

I don't believe in the low carb or non carb diets.

Because there's something sacred about a warm piece of bread,

The kind with just the right amount of crunch on the outside,

And the soft, warm insides.

It's worshipful.

I believe carbs bring us closer to God.

But here's the thing-

When all I eat are carbs,

All carbs, all the time,

Days full of bread,

And crackers,

And pizza,

And everything not featured in the gluten free aisle,

I begin to feel sluggish,

And grumpy,

And craving for something more.

Today, I was reading in Luke 4 when Jesus was tempted by the Devil in the desert,

And my heart dropped when I read this one verse,

This one verse I'd read so many times,

But for some reason,

This morning,

While sitting and eating my baked oatmeal (yet another carb)

Felt so true to the way I've been living my life.

"Jesus answered " It takes more then bread to really live.""

Luke 4:4

If I'm going to be honest with you, I've been really stressed out recently.

This season has felt fast moving, and full, and joyful, but still, just so full,

And in a true over achiever fashion, I've put so much pressure on myself to be the best during this season,

To embrace the full, and be the best everything for everyone.

The best fiance,

The best friend,

The best daughter,

The best sister in law,

The best Aunt,

The best UpStreet director,

The best Younglife leader,

And I've every single responsibility,

Every single pressure,

On my own shoulders.

And every day, that weight felt a little greater,

And my heart felt a little harder,

And the pressure grew and grew.

And I'm feeling this season that should be so full of joy,

Be so full of stress,

So full of doubt,

So full of angst,

And I've become sluggish,

And grumpy,

And craving for something more.

And I've realized, 

In this season where I need God the most,

In this season where I need guidance,

And help,

And reassurance,

I've been relying on myself for all of those things,

I've been relying on bread alone to live.

And this morning, as I sat eating yet another carb,

When I felt my heart drop because I realized the truth of how I've been living,

I'm choosing to pray this simple prayer-

This prayer for guidance,

And help,

And reassurance-

Lord I lay it all down.

Take my all.

Because to really live, I need more then bread,

More then myself,

More then my own power and strength.

To truly live, I need to rely on Yours.

Carbs are a great and wonderful thing,

But to truly live,

To not just survive in this season,

But to thrive on it,

To learn a new way to live,

Instead of a way full of stress

And doubt 

And anger,

To learn a way to live that is full of joy,

And laughter,

And hope,

Bread alone is not going to cut it.

Whispers in the Change

These past two weeks have been full.

Two weeks full of surprises,

Full of joy,

Full of an overwhelming sense of love,

Full of support,

And full of excitement.

It's almost surreal really,

When the thing you've wished for,

The thing you've prayed for,

The thing, that two years ago,

When you were packing away your apartment to move to a new town,

Seemed impossible.

When the thing that you you never thought would actually happen,

Happens.

When suddenly, you're not the girl that's celebrating someone else's joy,

But you're the girl whose joy is being celebrated by others.

I feel so honored to be sitting in this season.

But all of a sudden,

With one question asked,

And one hand sporting a little more bling,

You begin to prepare.

You begin to prepare for change.

Because the life you knew before,

Is not going to exist anymore.

You are going to have a different last name,

A different family to call your own,

A different place to call home,

A different person that you will belong to.

Your life will no longer be your own,

Your Life,

Will become Our Life,

And you have no idea how Our Life will look.

You know it will be sweet,

And you know it will be full of joy,

And adventure,

But still,  Our Life is new.

Our Life is different.

Our Life is change.

And sometimes change,

No matter how sweet,

Or joyful,

Or adventurous,

Can be scary.

Because you don't really know what to expect from change.

You don't really know what to expect from Our Life.

But in the sweetness of this season,

The sweetness,

And the scariness,

I am so glad, that I have a God,

That even when everything around me is changing.

Is the same.

The same God that heard the wishes,

And heard the prayers,

And whispered

 "Just, you wait my child. Just wait for what I have for you".

The same God that planned that move,

That move that didn't always seem to make sense,

But now,

Seems so clear.

The same God that designed the process through which Your Life

Will become Our Life,

And delights in that commitment,

That covenant.

The same God,

Who wants just as much to fill Your Life with joy,

And sweetness,

And adventure,

As He wants to fill Our Life,

The same God that hears the fear,

And the excitement,

And the uncertainty of what Our Life is going to look like,

And wants to take us in His arms,

And whisper,

"Just, you wait my child. Just wait for what I have for you".

My God is the same,

Even when my world is changing,

And what a sweet reassurance that is.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Hebrews 13:8

The Truth Of Thirst

We've all had those moments.

These moments,

Those days,

When you look around and think,

"I've got nothing left to give.

I've got nothing left to give,

And I'm not even sure what I am giving even means anything."

You're not sure you have anything left to give,

But still,

You get up,

Drag your feet out of bed,

And think,

Even if you never say it out loud,

" I hope no one sees how empty I feel today.

I hope no one can tell,

Because then, what will they think?

And if I do say those words,

I'm empty,

Who will listen,

And not judge?"

There was a women in the Bible that felt this same way,

The Samaritan woman,

A woman who in the eyes of her city was an embarrassment,

The topic of town gossip,

The woman that no one wants their daughter to grow up and be like.

Jesus made a pit stop in this woman's town.

Sat down at the well,

The center of Samaria,

The place where people gathered,

And sat,

And I believe,

Waited for this woman.

This woman that showed up at the hottest time of day to avoid the stares,

And the whispers.

This woman,

Who showed up to fill her water bucket,

But whose soul probably felt dry too.

Emptied by the years of giving away the best part of herself to men,

Emptied by shame,

And embarrassment,

And pure desperation.

And Jesus,

Instead of seeing what she did,

Or who people said she was,

Saw who she really was,

A woman who needed love,

And affirmation,

But believed the lies that whispered softly in her ear,

"You are what you've done.

You'll never be any different.

This is the best you've got.

You are not loved

You are not seen

You can never be filled."

Jesus saw this woman,

He offered up the only answer to her deep thirst.

Deep and filling love.

But first,

She had to ask.

She had to look past the shame,

And embarrassment,

And bravely ask,

To be filled,

To fill her emptiness,

And through that filling see,

That Jesus,

Saw her exactly as she was,

Saw her better then she was,

Not broken and ignored

But as beautiful and seen.

And He wanted to fill that deepest part of her,

The part that was empty,

The part that believed that she had nothing left to give.

The part that believed the lies.

But, she first had to ask.

To muster up the bravery,

Push past the fear of being judged,

And ask to be seen,

To be known,

To be filled.

Jesus see me.

Jesus know me,

Jesus fill me.

I ask those same prayers.

I invite you to ask those same prayers as well.

And hear those same truths,

That were true for that Samaritan woman,

And true for you today.

No matter your season,

You are seen.

No matter what you try to hide behind,

You are known,

And no matter how empty you feel,

You have the ability to be filled.

Jesus see me.

Jesus know me,

Jesus fill me.

Choosing to See

Recently, I've been struggling with the idea of community.

I've always been that girl that's surrounded by friends.

And not in a way the way that I wake up, look in the mirror and think " everyone wants to hang out with me".

But in a way that I truly thrive off of people.

And so I seek people out.

And I've been lucky enough that each season of my life has taken me to a place  where my idea of community has thrived,

When I was bored I always had someone to call,

Someone was willing to hang out,

Or sit on the couch and watch disgusting amounts of reality tv,

And those days could spread to the night,

Because we were the only ones we had to think about,

And we loved Tyra Banks.

But recently I've noticed,

In this season of change,

This past year-ish of life that has been sweet,

And scary,

And exciting,

And hard,

That this definition of community has had to look different,

Because all of a sudden, I've looked around,

And my people have new people,

Boyfriends and husbands and children,

And those people trump the ability to sit on the couch and binge on cookie dough and practicing "smizing" with your eyes.

Those people are more important,

And they should be more important,

And seasons of life ebb and flow,

But as someone who is just beginning to enter into this season where one man has to become my priority,

I've felt this change of community,

And I've taken it poorly.

I've cried,

I've pouted,

I've avoided the phone,

And I've tried to avoid the danger of emotionally eating by choosing to eat an insane amount of rice cakes which, word to wise, helps very little with a chocolate craving. Just eat one scoop of icecream and call it a day. 

I've had lots of conversations with Jesus because at the end of the day,

I missed what I had,

And longed for what's ahead,

And saw nothing but loneliness in the current. 

But this weekend, I was given another picture of God's faithfulness and sweetness,

And was reminded that no matter the season, you can find community,

If you're willing to look.

If you're willing to stop comparing to what has been,

And what could be,

And simply sit in the now.

Sit in the sweetness of breakfast conversations,

And Panera run ins,

And home cooked dinners that you can attend while wearing your pajamas,

And couch dreamings,

And choose to see what God has placed in front of you.

To choose to see the His faithfulness,

And choose to stop comparing,

And choose to just be.

My community may look different,

And it may involve more nights at home,

And less Tyra Banks.

But in the end, it's just as sweet,

And just as real,

And just as necessary.

And that even as seasons of life change, 

And my picture of community morphs,

I have a God that is ever constant,

And who longs for my heart to be close enough to His,

To see where the sweetness in this seasons lies. 

God of Empathy

If you had to list out the qualities of Jesus,

Whether you believe He actually is the Son of God or not,

I'm sure you could come up with a pretty long list.

Loving,

Patient,

Kind,

Wise,

Humble,

Selfless,

Giving,

The list could go on and on.

But this morning,

I discovered a new adjective to add to that list,

Empathetic.

Having the ability to relate and understand another person's feelings and emotions.

It's different then sympathetic. 

Sympathy sounds like:

It's going to be OK.

Tomorrow will be better.

Look on the bright side.

Empathy sounds like:

I've been there too. I know this hurts.

It's ok to be sad.

I'm here for you, whatever you need.

The truest form of empathy comes when you've experienced the same thing that another person is going through,

And can look back and remember how much it hurt,

How deep the pain seemed,

How much it stung,

How hopeless it felt,

And not expect those persons feelings to go away overnight.

The truest form of empathy comes from having been, or being in, a similar state and not offering any solutions,

But simply a listening ear.

And when I read this verse today in Hebrews, 

It made it crystal clear to me why Jesus,

Who I believe to be the Son of God,

Had to come and live on Earth among us so that

"He would have already experienced it all himself- all the pain, all the testing- and would be able to help where help was needed" ( Hebrews 2:18, The Message)

Jesus had to come to live on Earth,

So he could understand the hurt of being let down by friends,

The pain of feeling like an outcast,

The sting of not living up to others expectations,

And how hopeless it felt to have to wait patiently for what you knew was yours.

Jesus had to come to Earth so that when inevitably we feel the hurt of being let down by friends,

The pain of feeling like an outcast,

The sting of not living up to others expectations,

And the hopelessness of having to wait patiently for what you knew was yours,

He wouldn't just be a God we could reach out to for sympathy,

A God who would say:

It's going to be OK.

Tomorrow will be better.

Look on the bright side.

He would be a God of empathy,

 A God who could look back and remember how much it hurt,

How deep the pain seemed,

How much it stung,

How hopeless it felt,

And sit with us and say:

I've been there too. I know this hurts.

It's ok to be sad.

I'm here for you, whatever you need.

The truest form of empathy comes when you've experienced the same thing that another person is going through,

And I find it so comforting to know that the person I cry out to in times of need,

The Son of God,

The creator of the universe,

A man who walked the Earth,

Knows exactly I'm coming from.

Learning to Yearn

Today I sat next to a dried up lake and cried.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with my life.

My life is great.

I have so many things that I prayed for,

And yet,

I still want.

I want for more.

For more satisfaction.

For more joy.

For more peace.

For more contentment.

How is that I can have so much,

But still want for so much more?

And how do I learn to sit in a place of contentment?

How do I learn not to yearn for more?

But here's what I'm starting to figure out,

God desires us to want more.

But not more things,

Or more relationships,

Or more adventures,

Or more success,

God wants us to yearn for more of  Him. 

He wants our heart to yearn for more satisfaction,

For more peace,

For more joy,

For more contentment,

Because there's nothing we can do that can bring all of those things except to face that yearning,

To sit in front of a dried up lake and cry,

And recognize that yearning. 

He wants us to yearn 

And realize that more satisfaction,

More joy,

More peace,

More contentment,

Can only come from Him.

And when we begin to recognize that, our yearning begins to look different.

We begin to yearn for things that stir our souls,

Relationships with the one who created us,

Adventures with that can only be had by giving up our own plans and trusting this God unseen,

And success in resting in knowing our worth doesn't come from our success.

Today I yearn for more.

Today I want to learn to yearn for the more that will truly fulfill. 

Twenty Something

Being a twenty something is hard.

So many people have refered to these years as the "best years of your life"

But really, I think people should probably be a little more honest.

These years are full of fun,

And  full of the least amount of responsibility you'll ever have while having all of the perks of being an adult,

But still these years feel full.

Full of decisions,

Full of choices,

Full of big moments,

All while you're trying just to figure it all out.

I think God designed the twenty something years specifically so we would learn to trust.

Because really,

How else are you supposed to make a career choice fresh out of four years of clubs and paper writing and entire days spent in the dining hall if you don't trust that even if you make a wrong choice, you will still be OK?

How are you supposed to learn that friendships change and morph and look different if you don't trust that even though it may look different, these friendships are not any less important?

How are you supposed to choose the person you spend your life with if you don't trust that in 30 years, when you're not as attractive, and tired from the wear and tear of life, that you will still get those butterflies when you catch each other's eyes across the room?

How are you supposed to learn to be a grownup if you don't trust that this life,

That looks a little more scary,

A little more full,

A little more tiring,

Then you thought it would when you were in your teen-something years,

Is going to also be

A little more joyful,

A little more grace filled,

A little more adventurous,

Then your twenty something self could have ever dreamed?

That in the midst of the "best years of your life"

You are going to be asked to dream big,

And watch your story change before your eyes,

And see prayers answered,

And start new jobs,

And move,

And laugh, 

And watch your friends change their last names,

And begin thinking about changing your own. 

That in the middle of the " best years of your life",

You are going to see some dreams fail,

And watch your story change in ways you never hoped it would,

And have prayers go unanswered,

And end jobs,

And leave your home,

And cry,

And sit with your friends who dream of changing their last names, 

Or friends who long to be mommys and daddy's,

Or simply sit in moments of brokenness.

How could you get through a season like your twenty somethings,

The season full of decisions,

And life change, 

Without trust?

And when I sit right in the middle of this season,

This season that is 

 a little more scary,

A little more full,

A little more tiring,

A little more joyful,

A little more grace filled,

A little more adventurous

Then I imagined they would be,

I think that these "best years of my life"

May be the best years of my life because it's the years that I learned to choose to trust,

And rely,

And believe,

That each season,

Will be full,

And no matter what they're full of,

I have a God who I can fully trust with each season.