From Where I'm Standing

disclaimer: usually around this time of the year, my mental health takes a crash. between winter and struggling with my birthday, as well as some hard dates, it’s just rough. this year is certainly no exception with the pandemic, lack of normalcy, and constant political tension from the recent election and upcoming inauguration. 

something i’ve been thinking about a lot lately, is the demographic i fall into and how there is such a lack of resources and just conversation around this group of folks. that demographic is the single folks who haven’t been married, haven’t had kids, and sincerely and desperately want to. the folks who aren’t super caught up in a career path and don’t want to. the folks who are fairly content with their life but still have a deeeep desire to be a spouse and parent (it’s a paradox, i know). and i’m not talking about young 20-somethings. i’m talking about older 20-somethings and 30-somethings. there are sooo many Instagram pages, podcasts, books, and fb groups that cater to parents (especially moms) or married folks. there is this societal stigma around single adults and this misconception that they are unmarried and without children because they want to be. and to be fair, many are actively making those choices. but there’s also a good amount of people who are like myself. who want to be married. who want to be a parent. but simply aren't because that just isn’t the path life has for them at the moment. and it’s hard. can I say that? weeell i did. and i want to continue this honesty and vulnerability... it sucks.

 it sucks to want something so badly and make steps toward it but it doesn’t pan out the way it needs to. it sucks to have all of your close friends in different stages of life and not be able to fully relate. it puts this weird distance between me and them for some reason- as if i don’t have as much to offer in my friendship due to this lacking. i don’t say this to guilt trip (and certainly, i have some friends who are wonderful and welcoming and love me really well), but to speak plainly and address this bizarre notion that value is indirectly attached to title or stage of life. we in America attach success and accomplishment and worthiness to being married and having kids and in doing so, isolate and push away those who aren’t in that same stage of life. don’t get me wrong, i understand the importance, and even need of having friends that get where you are in life on a personal level. i really do. but my friends don’t have more to offer me because they’re married or a parent. and in that same way, i don’t have less to offer because i don’t. and i think if you ask people, they wouldn’t come right out and say that they believe this notion... yet... i receive this message from our society every day. it’s assumed by capital S Society that if one is not married or having children by 25, it clearly means that they don’t want those things. so to consider the possibility that one does, is, apparently baffling. and i don’t say this purely on speculation or observation, but experience. i’ve had family and friends say the most well meaning things but sometimes it is tone deaf. things like, “soak up your singleness! you’ll miss it!” or, “i had no idea you wanted to get married and have kids. I just assumed... since you don’t yet...” or my personal (non) favorite, “just trust God. it’ll happen when the time is right.” As IF i’m not trusting? or that something is wrong right now? oof. none of those things are relevant, especially when those comments are a follow up from a person expressing how much they are hurting and wish their life looked different. 

i think too often, men get overlooked in this group of folks. i get it, women have the whole biological clock working against them in a way that men just don’t. but it also makes me wonder... do they feel seen or validated in that hurt or deep desire? do they feel relieved? maybe. i’m not a man so i couldn’t tell ya. but i wouldn’t be surprised if they feel their desire to be a spouse or parent is belittled or brushed aside merely because they don’t have a reproductive time bomb. and it just makes me bummed to think about. all of this does. single folks generally feel alone anyway, and to feel put in a box until they “meet the requirements” to re-enter into society is terribly lonely.

in church, i’ve frequently heard the phrase, “use your season of singleness to serve!” and like, okay, sure. fill your time up. don’t sit around expecting life to just drop off your dreams on your door step like every purity culture conference told young girls. take up a new hobby or bring out an old one and pick it back up. volunteer. these aren’t bad things. but also... people have value even if they’re not doing anything “to serve”. and it doesn’t feel like that message is ever communicated. it feels like folks only have value and are “contributing to society” if they are serving in a way that leads to burn out, are on some sort of mission and by nature can’t plant roots within a stable community, tirelessly pursing a career that consumes all their time or are married or raising a child. what’s up with that? as a society, why don’t we respect people who live a modest, humble life? why don’t we commend people who are working a job they enjoy and have passion for even if it’s not where they want to be in 5-10 years? why don’t we communicate a person’s value as it is? why do we assign this separation between stages of life and dictate who can and can’t be friends with each other? why are folks continuously striving for the next achievement while simultaneously tsk-tsking folks for not arriving where they earnestly desire to be but truly don’t have control over? it’s mind boggling at best. at worst, it’s a major factor in the world of mental health in america. wanna know something? 

i’m going to tell you the best way to get depression to win... isolate people. tell them their value is attached to their achievement. remind them their desires of being a spouse and a partner are solely on them to make happen and if it’s not happening, it’s directly because there is something wrong with that individual. tell them that what they feel is trite and to think positively anyway. tell them that if they only busy themselves enough, they won’t be reminded of their deep desire. but do all this indirectly and slap a bunch of justifiable stickers on it. extra points if techniques like gaslighting and platonic ghosting are involved. and then stand back, and watch. you’ll find a group of folks who either keep striving to meet the expectations set before them by Society. or, you’ll witness as i have witnessed, an increase in drug use, unhealthy relationship seeking, drunkenness, porn use, laziness, emotionally lashing out and then withdrawing, emotional stuffing, lack of motivation, further isolation, and then settlement. coping and numbing mechanisms. maybe it’s not that dramatic. maybe they just stop trying. they give up on that dream. they accept that they just aren’t cut out for being a spouse or parent because they’re too f***ed up. they buy into that lie. they accept defeat. and once a person accepts defeat, it’s really hard to dig them out of that hole and back standing on solid ground. 

now that we reached that necessary level of heaviness and reality, may i challenge you? if you know someone who has risked being vulnerable with you enough to share their longings to be married and have kids- will you respond differently? will you listen to understand instead of respond? is there a way we can validate someone’s pain without assigning their worth to their current stage of life? will you invite in and welcome rather than pushing aside and divide? will you empathize and validate the difficulty? will you please not use God or timing as an accidental way of demeaning their desire? will you reach out and check in on them? most importantly, will you share this with others and encourage them to do the same? 

humans aren’t meant to do life alone. we are supposed to be in community with each other. with people who are like us, and people who aren’t. if only we didn’t get so caught up in their status, culture, gender, faith, age or season of life. if only we didn’t get hung up on only being friends with people who are like us. if only we sought out folks who shared the same desire to know others and live out the notion that everyone has something to offer. everyone is worthy of friendship and community. and it’s up to us to open our arms and BE that community. we need to act like lives depend on it because to an extent, they do. people aren’t disposable, and high it’s time we stopped acting as if they are.

easter used to be my favorite holiday. partially because i genuinely loved the celebratory idea of hope and freedom, and admittedly, because i was tired of Christians ridiculing me for saying the fourth of july was my favorite holiday because it doesn’t have anything to do with Jesus. (“okay, but it *does* have to do with freedom, and that goes hand in hand with Jesus, right? no? okay.”)

I have mixed feelings about posting (and even writing) something about this whole “past decade/new decade” thing. Not to hate on the people who are doing that (because here I am doing it too) but jeez, it’s just so. much. 

I recognize that it’s potentially so overwhelming primarily because the past decade contained some of the most extreme years of growth and change for any human (ages 15-25). But seriously. It’s been so damn much. I have lost more than I want to say or could even begin to articulate. And I don’t want this entire post to be sad because though the sadness was real and intense and valid, it didn’t make up the whole ten years. However, I have struggled with depression the entire time. I don’t say this for the sake of being dramatic- I genuinely shouldn’t still be here. But at some point, between my friends keeping me alive and healing enough to care to fight on my own, I made it. I’m here. I’m grateful and glad. I’m relieved. I don’t have time to write all that I’ve learned. But the memories pass through my mind like pages from a flip book. I see how I’ve grown. How I’ve hurt in deep anguish. How I’ve gotten up and kept walking after grief. How I’ve desperately looked for joy in the little things; happiness is something I get to create, not to just wait around and hope it happens. How I’ve loved a few people and don’t talk to any of them now. How that makes me sad because they’re amazing and each of them all thought friendship was possible after the break up. 

I've sat down to write this blog for about two and a half months. I couldn't bring myself to do it because I didn't have the conclusion I thought I would. I thought I was going to have an epiphany about having joy while grieving. I still don't really have a conclusion, so if that's what you're looking for, I'm sorry but I don't have an answer. I don't know what having joy in the midst of grief could look like. To be perfectly honest with you, I don't think its possible. I don't think its possible to have joy (definition: "inner peace", "happiness or pleasure") in the middle of grieving unexpected loss. Maybe its sometimes an option when the loss has been anticipated, but even then, grief is pain. And pain is bitter, raw, heavy, and smothering.

In the continuation of being honest, I don't think people should have joy in the midst of grief. I think its a bullshit way of attempting to cope that isn't healthy or helpful. I think grief needs to be experienced fully so that healing has room to take place at some point, optimistically not significantly later. I'm not saying to push out any and all positivity or good. Practicing self-care and doing things that promote happiness and rest is very important. Please do that. But in order to process grief fully, you can't detach, you can't compress, you can't convince yourself that its somehow okay. You can't lie about the severity of the pain and anguish you feel, not to others and especially not to yourself. Running away, distracting, and dissociating may appear to make the process easier at first but I swear to you, it's a lie. Trust me, I've tried.

Near the end of December, I was listening to a musician and one of her songs came on. Despite the fact that I was familiar with her music, I somehow, I hadn't heard it before. I keyed in to the words sung, and it was as if all of the things I had felt in years past (especially the last one) had been formed into the most lovely lyrics and melody. I danced alone in my room at 2am and sobbed. Not just "ugly cry", but the kind that makes it nearly impossible to breathe and you end up vomiting. I played "Rejoice" at least eight times that night.

"I rejoice and complain... Lift my voice that I was made. And somebody's listening at night with the ghosts of my friends when I pray. Asking why did you let them leave and then make me stay?'

That line was stuck in my head for days. It still pops up every now and then, each time it resonates with the intimate cries of my heart. It really got me thinking... How do you rejoice in the midst of that type of grieving? Many who are religious have said they are able to rejoice in the knowledge of their loved one lost being in Heaven. I don't really know what I think about the after life these days, but if our Western concept of Heaven is false and inaccurate, where is the reason for rejoicing? If there isn't religion involved, how does assurance and that "inner peace" come into play?

Since that night, I have felt my brain begin to process recent losses in ways I hadn't yet been able to before. My brain feels clearer and the weight on my rib-cage has gotten lighter. I've realized I have hope again; hope for my future, for my mental health to improve, for the gaping wounds in my heart to heal, and for a day when there was more to celebrate than mourn.

The past few weeks have carried some mixed feelings. My birthday was around then, and birthdays have a way of making me analyze my life up until that point. It highlights my failures and fears, reminds me of my dreams and goals, and tends to bring up other weird thoughts and feelings. But this year, as I sat to do my annual birthday journaling, I felt so. much. peace. I felt content and carefree. I closed my eyes and excitement raced through my veins (no, I hadn't drank coffee). I got this unexplainable feeling that this year- my 24th year of existing- was going to be one of the best years of my life. That all the pain would be replaced by joy. That the depth of the hurt would be filled with joy and happiness and fun! Instantly, part of my brain cautioned my heart... As if it said, "Don't get too carried away now...You'll just get disappointed." Which isn't wrong- hope can lead to disappointment. But I'd rather hope (while still maintaining a decent level of realistic logic) and risk disappointment than live without hope.

Perhaps that's what people actually mean when they say joy is attainable in the middle of suffering... Maybe what they really mean is, "hope can exists while grieving". If so, then I'm open to that but even still, it doesn't happen immediately. And that's okay. It's okay to only feel the intensity of grief while grieving. People don't say that enough, so I'm saying it.


Lately, I've been making lists that I call "tiny joys". Each list is made up of simplicities,  ones that bring a flood of warmth to my chest and a small grin to my face.

• driving with the windows down 
• laughing late at night with friends
• watching the stars
• sitting around a bonfire
• sunsets
• food adventures
• long hugs from those you love
• sunshine on my bare skin
• puns- good, bad, and dad ones
• sunflowers
• the smell of a summer rainstorm

I write these lists because it helps me stay present.
It encourages me to look for new tiny joys.
Its hope, inhaling and exhaling.

"Life is good and beautiful. Situations can be painful and totally suck. 
But life is still good."- Michael Thigpen




                                             yours truly

Some days I tiptoe around, hoping with every fiber in my body that today isn't the day for an emotional breakdown. They always hit hard and I'm never fully prepared for them. Lately, I generally get a decent heads up, but still it can come out of blue. When I hear a voice or laughter that sounds like theirs. Or unintentionally, I do something I once did with them. Others times, I will intentionally visit a location we'd frequent. Usually I go to those places in attempt to remember them more vividly and to give myself space to feel deeply, grieving. The most common thing these days that triggers these grief-filled emotional breakdowns are dreams. Not hazy ones, but the kind that are so real you can smell them, feel their hugs, and see the sparkle in their eyes.

A month ago, I had one about Hosanna. It wasn't pleasant and I woke up feeling overwhelmed with guilt. I hadn't been very intentional in communicating during her last year on earth. We interacted a few times via text and it was all pretty brief. I cannot begin to express how desperately I ache to go back to Spring of 2016 and redo those moments. Just to hold her face in my hands and tell her how much her lovely soul has impacted my life. I just would want her to know that: how important she was to this world... To me. I laid in bed for an hour that morning and cried and played some of her favorites tunes.

A couple of days ago I was at my church, worshiping and singing loudly. I felt Holy Spirit ask me to go dance in the back. I argued, "No, I really don't want to. I told you a couple of summers ago that I'm done with that." But the pressing grew stronger. So I went to the back and danced. The first minute or so was awkward, and I was all too aware of the two people who had noticed and were staring. Out of nowhere, I got the feeling that Terrell was with me, bouncing back and forth, laughing. Hot tears began to stream down my face. It didn't matter. I kept dancing. And I'll be honest with you, I kept dancing in hopes that I would somehow be able to "feel" Terrell there longer. I didn't do it for Jesus. It was "selfish", and I still don't care.

My reactions to these moments of grief are an indication of progress. They're healthy for me and my process of healing. This is the most joyful I've been since I was robbed of two incredibly beautiful friends. Two of the most beautiful humans I'll ever have the privilege of knowing. It may not sound very healthy or healing to you. But for the sake of perspective, let me take you back to January...

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It was New Year's Eve 2016- I had driven down to KC to spend the normally fun and exciting holiday with my best friend, her fiance, and our friend group. I saw a couple of my other close friends during this quick trip as well. But I didn't feel much. I don't think I even laughed. At the last minute, I decided to attend this huge Christian conference that took place downtown KC but I was pissed the whole time. I was mad at God and I wasn't in a stable spot mentally. As luck would have it, I ran into a guy who had hurt me in many ways a year or so prior. We hadn't really talked since the situation happened and I was more than okay with that. He went to give me a hug and instinctively I drew back a fist, nearly punching him. I caught myself and ran out of the massive building, into an alley where I fell to my knees and burst into tears. I drove to my best friend's apartment for the lovely party she was hosting... And I drank. A lot. Then I got into an argument with three of my friends. I was a mess. Hope walked out and slammed the door and while I wasn't looking, apathy snuck in. Apathy and I began our friendship that night. For a few moments, a few times that night, I contemplated my options. Randomly, an ex boyfriend from high school called me and I listened to him share some hard stuff about his family for a couple of hours. All I kept thinking was that he had no idea how broken I was and that I was glad for the distraction. It was utterly selfish and I didn't care.

Fast forward a month- more hurt from others and more hurt done to others. I was drinking far more than I should have and (can you guess?) I didn't care. My coworkers and an almost boyfriend in Colorado were my rock and source of sanity at this time. The guy in Colorado (lets call him Shawn) would call or Skype me several times a week, while we texted off and on each day. We'd usually fall asleep while talking to each other, be it on the computer or on the phone. He'd call me when I'd drive around the quiet city late at night, he'd talk me down from the heightened emotions I'd get slammed with. We carry on about our mutual love for La La Land, discuss our opinions on politics, banter back and forth, and share our goals and dreams. At that point, he would send me links to the houses he was looking at buying. We told each other of the silly and mundane daily deets and always made each other laugh. He decided back in the Fall that he would fly out for my birthday in February and we were counting down the days with great anticipation. I adopted a cat that Shawn helped me pick out via facetime. His visit for a few days was wonderful and the best gift. I saw him again a couple of months later and we talked about officially dating. He and I made dinner for his parents one evening and as we sat on their deck, he told me that I was it for him- endgame. It felt like finally something truly good was happening. The boy I had been in love with since 10th grade wanted me by his side, as more than just his best friend (the role I filled since we were 15). He brought fun, giggles and peace to my life in new ways and I was on Cloud Nine.

On May 10th, a dear friend of mine was shot and killed by cops in Portland, OR. I had known him well over the past few years from our time at an organization in KC. I honestly don't even remember how I found out about Terrell's tragic death... If someone called me or if I saw it on social media. All I remember is that I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I remember calling Shawn and barely being able to get out my words. I remember calling another friend and the two of us just cried on the phone together. My buddy said a couple of people from KC (who were the closest to Terrell) were going to Portland for the memorial service. I knew I needed to go. So I went. The five of us drove 32 hours straight to Oregon. It was a gorgeous, heavy city. Yet my vision felt foggy, distant... Except for the pain. At one point on the trip, I had the most intense panic attack I've ever experienced. I spiraled down even further and that with the combination of a few other things, I made the choice to move back to Colorado- my home state- at the end of June.

Naturally, with the move, came the big DTR with Shawn... I went into the conversation foreseeing that we'd make things official. Yet... He ended up saying was that he "was expecting us to make things official as well but felt unsure all of the sudden". Following that was a month and a half of mixed signals and him going back and forth on what he wanted. He would ignore me for a week and then ask to hang out. We talked again and this time he told me he had gone out with someone else but was "emotionally confused" regarding his feelings for her. A week later, they were dating.

It was the second week of August and something in me snapped. Lies had been revealed. A couple more close relationships suddenly severed. I became a person I didn't recognize. I think I was trying to create some sort of control and I sought revenge like it was my only way of breathing. I met with Shawn and walked him through the past year, the way he had pursued me, and the relational whiplash. I presented my perspective. And ya know what? He owned all of it. He couldn't explain his side of the story and continued to say he "didn't know why things changed". I told Shawn I didn't predict we'd ever be friends again, that this was it. He seemed confused and hurt by that... He told me he thought that after all we'd been through the past 8 years, that we could still be the kind of friends who get coffee every now and then and catch up. I sarcastically laughed to his face. We talked for another hour and I felt a deep twinge in my heart. Somehow we both managed to leave the conversation without hostility and I told Shawn and our friendship goodbye. Something we had pinky promised as young teens to never do. A promise we had kept until now.

More lies and hurtful words from Shawn came forth as the week progressed and I was even more convinced that mending things would not ever be possible. Once again, I was left shattered and grieving. It felt like all of my organs had been torn out. In a lot of ways, I guess I lost 3 friends this year.

The holidays are approaching more quickly than I'd like. Hosanna's departing date is coming soon... I'm not ready. I'm scared because with anniversaries, come more raw emotions. Can I say something else honestly? At this point, I don't know whats next. I have this weird, intuitive-like feeling that I am about to lose someone else I dearly love. I hate it and I don't know if its real or just fear. Most days, I am able to hold onto hope. As I continue to say "yes" to the day, to waking up, to keep living; its the tiniest of fractions easier to exist. But every few weeks or so, the pain is so severe, I feel like I'm suffocating.

 Grief, you are so messy. I am learning about you and how to process you with joy. That's part 2...

'Til then,

yours truly

December 9th, 2016 will forever be a day I’ll never forget. I had been up pretty late tending to some demands of my new job. I didn’t sleep well when I finally did go to bed- the old familiar waves of anxiety and restlessness were crashing on top of me and I was annoyed with being drenched. I woke up late in the morning and saw several messages from a family member, asking me to call them and that it was urgent. In my sleepy state of mind, I had managed to come to a conclusion of what the call would be about. I couldn’t have been more wrong. My family member spat out some words and they didn’t quite register. I asked her to repeat herself, and she did. Her words left me feeling as if someone had unexpectedly punched me in the sternum and then banged my skull against a brick wall.

Someone I had known from our infancy and had been very close friends with since, was killed in a car wreck earlier that morning. Truthfully, she was more like a cousin of mine than just a friend. (I realize that doesn’t give the best context, because some of you may be in the unfortunate situation where you don’t know your cousins at all, or if you do, don’t like them much. However, my cousins and I are the closest of friends). She and I had grown up together, our moms were best friends too. Even though my family moved to another state when we were 5 & 6, we saw each other a few times each year, and faithfully wrote letters for almost a decade. I have over a hundred memories of us playing together, talking for hours upon hours as only girls do… We made dozens of pinky promises, dreamed of all the adventures we’d go on as adults, and often would lay on the grass of her family’s lawn at night while we watched the stars. We shared laughter, tears, frustrations, questions, encouragement, and happiness. We would whisper under the sheets about the boys we thought were cute and discussed our ideas and beliefs of God, life, and the way people operate. We loved antique stores, especially ones containing old books. Watching the sun set on the rooftop, swimming, picking vegetables in the garden, cuddling with cats, and Sonic runs during the summer. Baking cookies and sweets, making tea and coffee, listening to her play the piano in the Fall and Winter. We had the idea once for her to compose a song and I would choreograph a dance to it. We never got around to that one... Even after high school, when our lives got much busier, we stayed in touch through sporadic texts and long phone calls. Once we went a whole year without talking to each other, neither of us liked that fact, but we effortlessly picked up our friendship as if no time had passed at all… She was going to in my wedding, if that day were to come. But now, suddenly, she is gone.

It’s like being robbed, something felt stolen. A piece of my heart had been ripped out without a warning. I’m left with a giant hole and a hundred questions.

This brings me to the real stuff, the process, the grit and hardship I’m left to face: the questions.

You see, I know that God is real. More than that, I know my friend knew Him too, intimately in fact. I know that God is good, abundantly good. I know that He loves me, and loved my friend, more than my temporal lobe will ever be able to fully process. I know that my friend is with the Father right now. I know that our Savior, Jesus is One who Heals. I have personally experienced “small” miracles, and have been present to witness “big” miracles. I know that He loves surprising us with miracles, revealing Himself through them time and time again. I know that God is ubiquitous. I am confident that Jesus was with her as she was driving early that morning. I have personal stories and experiences that have brought me to these conclusions, ones that line up with God’s character as depicted in Scripture. Through my experiences and learning, I also know that God hates death.

I keep hitting this brick wall, and can’t seem to get past. It’s as if I’m playing Mario Bros. and if I go under the brick and hit it enough times, it will spring forth a tall plant and lead me to a secret place of treasure that provides deeper understanding about life, death, and God Himself. But how many times do I have to hit that damn brick before the plant will emerge? It’s the age old question I "used to" know the answer to... Why did God let her die? My old answer (that was essentially just me parroting what have heard my whole life) is no longer is one I agree with or even believe to be biblical. I just am not satisfied, as it no longer rings true to the Jesus I have come to know over the past few years. The Jesus that isn’t distant, the One that doesn’t turn a blind eye, the One who empathizes and feels more than I because He cares more than we are capable. Jesus doesn’t walk away, He doesn’t dangle Himself over us saying “if we can do better, be more holy, then we get more of Him.” No. We get the fullness of God right now! We don’t have to do anything extravagant to earn His love, and we certainly can’t lose it. Jesus is the One who makes beautiful things out of dirt, who trades us our dirty rags for a cloak of righteousness. He stepped in- and took it all upon Himself, so that we may experience what it’s like to be a daughter/son of the Creative King. It was much easier to process death before I knew all this- who Jesus truly is.

There is this worshipful song by John Mark McMillan that he and his wife Sarah recorded and released in July of last year. It captured me the first time I heard it, and over the past year has continued to meet me as a comforting friend during some tender moments. A particular part of the song goes, “You’re never gonna let, never gonna let me down.” I have clung to that line as a promise from Holy Spirit. Yet right now, I am finding myself disappointed by God. I feel let down, knowing that Jesus was completely and totally capable of sparing the life of my friend. Honestly, it’s incredibly scary to even admit this… I have been wrestling and wondering with the idea of me even being allowed to feel offended and let down by Jesus. I know in Matthew 11, Jesus stated, “blessed are those who are not offended because of Me”. Now, it’s in slightly different context, but nevertheless has been skipping through my mind and heart usually at night and in the morning. Last night when I got home, I laid in my bed for two hours and ended up audibly yelling at Jesus that I sure as hell was offended by Him, that I felt betrayed by Him. It’s a bizarre feeling, being extremely angry at the only One you know can bring you peace, comfort, and healing… I haven’t had a ton personal experiences with God as Father, but I did last night. I felt like a four year old who was throwing a tantrum, and while knowing that it wasn’t going to do much good, needed to release the intense built up emotions that were caused by the parent’s action. And yet, that same four year old who desperately is still wanting to be close and be held by the same parent. Unlike human parents, God isn’t flawed. He is the perfect Parent. So... What then?

Perhaps a slightly deeper issue I found this morning is, I am afraid that God isn’t as good as I think He is. It feels like there has been broken trust between us (and lemme be upfront when I say I have trust issues to begin with). How do I still trust Him now? How do I bite the hand that feeds me, but end up staying around long enough to then hold the hand again? What do I do with this fear? I suppose I’m not really asking you... Though if you feel compelled to respond, I’ll gladly read it and probably develop a conversation with you. However, this is more just where I am right now- today.

Today was National Suicide Awareness Day. I've been anticipating it for a while... Processing and remembering. I wasn't going to write anything, at least, not something for others to read. But then I thought about how ridiculous it'd be to not write and share something.


You see, I remember being eleven when I realized I didn’t know what to do with all of the intense emotions I had. I remember the first time I dug my nails into my wrist, as hard as I could. I remember the marks it left, as well as the surprise it left. As if the pain I was experiencing had somehow released. This went on for five more years. Nothing was ever too noticeable, I made sure of it. It was during those years that I met a handful of others who confessed that they too released pain in a similar way. We each had our own methods of coping. We built a bond through our confusion and hurt. It was because of them that I wondered if I could make it after all...

A few really bad "lows" hit, and I quickly lost my optimism. There were three times I went to take things into my own hands. Each time, I was interrupted by these close friends. They didn't know what I was about to do. But they knew. Call it intuition. Call it a natural occurrence when there is deep connection and trust in a friendship. Call it Supernatural. Whatever you would like to call it... It saved my life each time. After the third time, I was convinced. I was supposed to be here. I had no idea why, or how. But I knew.

And so I kept living.

Don't get me wrong, it didn't get easy right away. I actually developed an eating disorder that took my already tiny 5'2 and 105lbs frame down to 87lbs in two short months. I wasn't okay.
But I had my people... They gave me reasons to laugh and squeezed my hand in the most difficult nights. The emotions and thoughts I was carrying, no matter how dark, were respected and validated.

And so I kept living.

I lost four friends in two years to death, one of them was due to a freak accident. The rest were suicide. I was angry and lonely, even jealous.

I remember the night before high school graduation, I was up late with my cousin. She was helping me create a photo board- completely planned but last minute as only I can do. I remember getting slammed with emotions unexpectedly... Not the, “oh man! I’m gonna miss high school!” Nor the, “I can’t wait to get out of here!”
I was looking at my life, but it wasn't through an honest lens. The pictures didn’t communicate all that I had experienced. No one would know how miraculous it was that I was about to walk across a stage and receive a diploma. And I was so grateful. Shame seeped through my veins and clothed me like the cap and gown I was about to wear the next morning.

My best friend who had stood at my side during the worst years, hugged me tightly after graduation and said, “Kayla, you made it to the top of the mountain.” I have a picture of that moment and it's one of my favorite pictures ever.

And so I kept living.

Post high school, I did what everyone else was doing and started college classes at a nearby community college. I completed one semester that I loved but decided to spend the following semester in a different city, in a different state, with strangers from a background that was vastly different than mine. The strangers became like family and for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged.

And so I kept living.

Here I am at 22. I still haven't gone back to college yet. I left the ministry I was with for almost three years in order to pursue this thing called 'self care'. I was a lot better but still facing depression head on.

I still am.

Don’t mistake me. I have had a lot of healing the past four years as well. Emotional healing, and actual physical healing.

Insomnia no longer plagues me.
I have been self harm free for almost five years.
I like my body.
I value my own emotions, thoughts, and desires.
I am learning about who I am, why, and what that means to my future.
I am becoming better at taking care of myself and letting others love me.
I am jazzed for the next five years ahead, as well as the next fifty.

And so I'll keep living.

Dear year two thousand and thirteen,



I do not look forward to the arguments, hurtful words, emotional destruction, and actions led by anger.



I do not look forward to the pain my family, friends, and I will endure, spiritually, physically, or emotionally.



I do not look forward to the days when finances are tight and income is scarce.



I do not look forward to the deep mistakes I will make.



I do not look forward to the friends I will lose, whether to death, miscommunication, or pride.



I do not look forward to the hurt I will cause others due to my selfishness and pride.



But.



I do look forward to brokenness.



Out of brokenness, there is restoration. For out of the ashes, there is beauty.



I look forward to the life, hope, joy, and love I will experience with others.



I look forward to the abundant healing and freedom that will be given to the absolute fullest.



I look forward to the times when I have to depend on Papa God to provide money, trusting Him to meet my financial needs. Through that challenge, I know I will become even closer to Him.



I look forward to all I will learn and the ways I will grow, in ways I've never known.



I look forward to the new lives, both born and given to Jesus.



I look forward to the new friends I will be given and the opportunities to deepen the friendship with the ones I currently am blessed to have.



I look forward to the pieces of joy and hope I will bring to others, through the Holy Spirit and His everlasting power and love.



Yes, I am uncertain about this year. And that in itself causes fear... But more than that, I am excited to see what Jesus will do. His perfect love casts out all fear. Though I typically fail to receive His love, I will take each day at a time. One step at a time. One breath at a time. Every breath is a second chance.

I'm not a huge fan of autumn... Mostly because it's the realization of the fact that summer is over. Gone. For 9 and a half more months. This fall, however, I am trying to stay as positive as possible... I got this. (Till it snows for the first time. Then I'm done.)

Last night, I had the privilege to see remnants of the Dead Sea Scrolls, first printed Bibles, and fractions of the Iliad with two wonderful friends of mine. We marveled over the pieces and listened to a man in a silly hat attempt to make jokes about Christians, Agnostics, and Atheists all at the same time (Skill? More like fail.)

Shortly after this, our real adventure began. A nasty funnel cake that made the non-diabetic feel sick, an adorable old man, and some bragging on Jesus-doings happened while we waited for the Most Awesome Barista to finish cleaning up the castle. We took pictures, Mr. Tumnus hissed at me, and we found a knight in dull armor (My guess is that too many girls hung on his arms, making the armor less than shining. Girls these days...) When the MAB finally finished cleaning the castle, we headed out to the car only to find that MAB and his SB brother had mixed up their car keys, so we had the wrong keys. (Don't ask.) (Unless you're wondering what SB stands for... Which is "sexy beast", of course.) After more picture taking of light posts, silhouettes, and gangsters, we were off! To Taco Bell! And Village Inn! Yeah buddy! While at VI, we got some pretty decent cheese fries and managed to severely irritate our waitress. (Like a boss) At about the same time, we all got a little slap happy (hap slappy?) and I laughed so hard, I almost peed my pants. Thankfully, the bathroom was right next to our booth. Mixture of grossness and a lifesaver right there. We decided to go to Mickey D's and get crappy coffee (Starbucks was already closed) and blared Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You".

On our way home, my two wonderful friends (we had ditched MAB at this point) talked about brokenness, families, healing, Papa's miracles, and promises. Seriously, the best first night of fall I have ever had. Pretty crazy weird but ridiculously wonderful.

These moments, these people, the laughter, and beautiful insanity. THIS is why I can face tomorrow with a smile. This is why I'm keeping my head up. So I can let my hair down and belt out love songs with my buddies as we laugh like seals. Boom.

~ Jayla Moi

"I don't recall a single care. Just greenery and humid air. Then Labor day came and went. And we shed what was left of our summer skin.."- Death Cab For Cutie


Like most teenagers, especially girls, I adore summer. With constant warmth radiating over your skin, laughing into the cool nights with friends, bbq and fresh fruit, staying up until the early morning and sleeping until its after noon... Driving with the windows down as the gentle breeze rushes through your hair. Flip flops, cut off shorts, tank tops, and sunglasses. If you are fortunate enough, there is sand between your toes at some point, as you play in some sort of water. Whether it be the hose in your backyard, a creek, river, lake, or (the best) an ocean. Every now and then, you sometimes experience a "summer love" (Cue Justin Timberlake's song that may or may not have played over 100 times on my ipod in the past 8 weeks...)

This summer was possibly my absolute most favorite summer I've experienced yet. I don't say that because I say every summer is my favorite or because my summer was "perfect". (What does that even mean?) I say that because it wasn't perfect, but my word, was it fantastic...

On May 19th, I graduated from High School (Reason #1) with some of my dearest friends. My family flew out for this special day and we had a good time together, as far as my family goes. The day before my graduation, my best friend/heart twin, left for a mission trip to Mexico, working with deaf kids for 11 weeks. Don't get me wrong, I was stoked for her! This was a dream she has been aching to fill and I knew without a doubt that it was where she was supposed to be. I am human however, and was bummed out she wouldn't be there to celebrate with me. Even more than that, I was sad she wouldn't be there to go through the summer with me.

Fast forward to June (because nothing really happened until then). I worked at a camp nearby called Wings Like Eagles, a horse vaulting program that works with kids of all ages and abilities. Same as last year, I was a vaulting coach, which means I am in charge of teaching 25+ kids how to safely do gymnastics tricks on the back of a moving horse. Unlike last year, the 2 guys that helped me teach (actually, it was more like I helped them. They were beasts.) moved and were unable to help out. Sooo, I basically had to train two 9th grade boys to become coaches AND coach the campers. No pressure. Somehow, I lived through that whole mess and surprisingly had a wonderful time with the campers. At the end of the two weeks, the 9th grade boys were like my brothers. In all honesty, it was pretty fantastic.(Reason #2)

In the midst of sweat, horse muck, child noises, and leadership struggles, I found my summer love... Wow, that sounded even more cheesy than it did in my head. Regardless. (Reason #3) It was more like my love found me during the summer heat. You see, this boy and I met waaaaay back in 10th grade. We were partnered up in Biology (no, not chemistry... Though there was some, if ya know what I mean ;) He has dark brown hair, fair skin, and blue eyes I consistently get lost in. Typical? Not even close. The thing about this boy that is so flippin' attractive is that he truly understands me. In the middle of camp, we went to get coffee and sat at the edge of the lake in our town. I think it was the first time we had ever hung out, just the two of us for an intentionally long amount of time. Levi and I talked for literally 5 hours. (Helloooo summer!) From our favorite books to Disney movies to analyzing characters to guns to graffiti to cooking to places we want to travel. (Told you. Five. Freaking. Hours.) We named a muskrat, "Tony", and counted the cars on the trains passing by as the sun set above the mountains. We flirted (Nothing new. We were kinda flirting buddies before) and joked. The night grew cool and Levi got his jacket from his car for me to wear. (He said he brought it for me because he knows how I'm almost always cold) We lay down on the combination of sand and thin grass and watched the stars... Out of nowhere, Levi began to sing one of my favorite songs, the one that I was singing in my head. (We can read each others minds. NBD) He took me home and walked me to my door. I gave him a hug goodbye and he held me longer than expected. Right as he slowly released me from his arms, he kissed the top of my head, "G'night.." I murmured a goodnight back and went inside. Part of me was like, "Did that really just happen?" And the rest of me was like, "It didn't mean anything, you're just his buddy." Turns out I wasn't just his buddy because the beautiful blue eyed wonderful kid kissed me while we were watching a movie at my house a few days later. My exact thought when that happened? "Oh my word. Levi actually finally kissed me. ME!!" Wanna know what he said? "I know. I actually finally kissed you." (See? Its like we have the same brain or something) (Also... Reason #4)

A lot of wonderful things happened over the summer, things that are too deep and too serious for this silly boy-raving post. (Reason #5-9)

I won't prattle on further about this guy and his eyes but I will say that its been difficult to accept the fact that this was really just a "summer love". I would have been totally okay with it becoming a real relationship, but the timing just isn't right. So I shed my summer skin, try not to cling to August, and embrace the fantastic reality that he is still my best friend. Because even after we decided "we" wouldn't work at the moment, he is still my best friend. (Reason #10)

I couldn't ask for a better best friend.


~ Kayla Joi

I see you joking, hoping no one can tell how you're hiding behind that smile I know so well. Take a step back. Get another perspective. You might see things a little bit different. People these days get too obsessive with the assessment of themselves through the eyes of those around them. The mayhem begins when fear and pride come, walking side by side, and invite themselves in. Then you contemplate, formulate ideas that aid the hate. This hate is an attack on your slate. Trying to create marks forming you into a work made of lies and pain. They tell you you're not worth it, drawing light to your past mistakes. "This is proof! You'll never be desired that way." These lies have a volume, going up and down. But the 'off switch' button can't be found. During the day, through the night. They become your companion, they won't leave your side. At times you doubt them and start to appeal for Truth. Deep inside, you know they're lies. So you decide to stand up and fight. The battle is difficult and draining. You find yourself desperately seeking for a way out. You just want to run. Keep in mind this battle has already been won. You aren't sure of it, this victory. Yet its just around the bend. You wait and see. Its hard to take comfort in the unknown. Especially when you feel like you're alone. Trust is hard, I understand. But fall into His arms if you can. And remember He knows, He has an Ultimate Plan. Your entire life, it lies in His hands.

In honor of the amazing time we had at Jesus Culture, Colorado Springs on Saturday Night. :)

Its the end of Easter weekend... I spent Sorrowful Friday with my sisters as we knelt before the foot of the cross together, weeping. A few different things became more clear to me that evening. The heart of the disciples during that day and the next day was what hit me the hardest. Having your dearest friend brutally abused, beaten, stabbed, ripped, torn, and very broken right before your eyes... Seeing Him take His last breath. Repeating His words in your head over and over, trying to make sense of them... Jesus' buddies didn't know He was going to come back to life a few days later. To them, He was gone.


Last night, I found out a wonderful young man that helped a lot with my youth group died in a rock climbing accident. I didn't know him very well... We had only talked a few times. Yet I always enjoyed just being around him and watching him interact with others. His smile lit up the whole room. He accepted everyone, regardless of where they've been. He was crazy about life... Wore rolled up jeans, flannels, a knit beanie over his dreaded dark blonde hair, and tried not to wear shoes as much as possible. Such a hippie.. He had this excited look in his eyes, making you want to know of all the adventures he had been on. He seemed to genuinely love those around him, even if he didn't know them that well.

This morning I woke up and instead of rejoicing at remembrance of Christ's Resurrection, I felt so heavy. For a few minutes, I couldn't figure out why. Then I recalled last night. I lay in bed for another half an hour, just thinking.

"How could he be gone?"

Part of me feels selfish for grieving his death, simply because I wasn't close to him. So who am I to be able to grieve the loss of him?

The rest of me is in shock... Only a few weeks ago, I passed him in the hall and said, "Hey!" thinking he had a great smile. I will never see his smile again. How simple smiles are... But the impact they have... It blows my mind.


Where ever you are in life, whoever you are around... Smile. You don't know how much longer you have here on earth to do that simple action. You don't know who is watching you, thinking, "That person has a great smile." You don't know who needs a gentle touch of warmth that you can give by smiling. What I do know is that our time here is so terribly short. Savor each moment, live intentionally, create memories, love deeply, and remember that every breath is a second chance.

"Hold onto the small things and make them worth fighting for"

"In My Arms" by Plumb

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet[a] no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11

As most of the world reading this will know, my "family" of 9 (Mama L, Daddy L, Daniel, Olivia, Hannah, James, Abbey, Joshua and Aliison) moved to California, the same town we both moved away from 7 years ago. They were the people I never tired being with, and they claim the same. Their leaving is the hardest thing I have every gone through, their absence is something I have never known. There's a hol inside I have given up trying to fill. For the beginning I tried forgetting all of the memories, numbing the pain, brushing it off with other things. None of it works. I ended up just walking through life feeling like a ghost, everywhere seemed haunted without them. I admit I've become rather pessamistic about life, GOd, friends, schoo, everything. "Why did God do this to me?" I asked for the first week or so, but then decided it was simply life. I couldn't change it. Nothing I did would make them come back. True, but instead of accepting that and learning to become happy, I've been running blindly through life. Given up on just about everything except for music.

It was one of my afternoons after school was done that I was talking to Hannah. She said "I finally know why God had us move to California!
"I've been wondering why the hell that happened," I thought. Instead I replied "Yeah?"
"He told Mom that we're here to recover, there's spiritually something we have to get from being with my aunt and uncle. And that this isn't forever, now is a time for us to recover from all thats happened the past 3 years." I faked being happy for them. I wanted to believe there wasn't anything good that could come from this. Later on I asked God "What about me?? So you have them there to "recover" what an I supposed to do in the meantime?" A voice whispered inside of me. "To Recover." So, God tore my heart to pieces so that it could find its way together again??
"What am I recovering from?"
"Life" he said.
"Your life. For so long you have treated me as something to embrace when life is going good. When something bad happens you are driven away. You are here to learn that everything has a reason, even though you may not see it. You are here in this time to discover who you are, to become the person I have made you."

I remembered Ecclesiastes 3 then,
"A time to weep, and a time to laugh.
A time to re-build...
A time to tear and a time to mend."
A time to dream
A time to shine.

He spoke again

"Think about what has happened in the past 2 months." God recalled to me how I have learned...well, a lot more than can be put into a blog post. but about...

Recovery.
It comes down to something as simple as learning to find happiness in things I would have not thought of before. A lot of dreams I had forgotten in some ways anyways, have been rebirthed inside of me. I've learned about the beauty in hanging up Christmas lights with your siblings, and pretending you're Jason Bourne while jumping around on the roof.

I still miss you, Hannah, and Olivia.

"But let the winds blow, let the winds blow.
Fling wide the door to my heart
Open up the door to my soul
Have your way, Have your way!"

Learning a bit about Recovery...

I Came to Love You Late
O Beauty so ancient and new
I came to love You late
You were within me and I was outside
where I rushed about wildly searching for You
like some monster loose in Your beautiful world
You were with me but I was not with You
You called me
You shouted to me
You wrapped me in Your Splendor
You broke past my deafness
You bathed me in Your Light
You sent my blindness reeling
You gave out such a delightful fragrance
and I drew it in and came breathing hard after You
I tasted, and it made me hunger and thirst
You touched me
and I burned to know Your Peace"

~St. Augustine of Hippo

Its beginning to look a lot like winter!! Well, it was, until all the snow went away, and is gonna come back tomorrow, and then melt on Saturday, etc etc etc. I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned this, but the weather here are like a PMSing teenage girls emotions, roller coaster, etc. It was really cold and cloudy today, but no snow…sometimes you wish It’d just snow so at least there’d be some reward (Sledding, snowball fights, etc) to the coldness.

Other than that, life is going pretty good. I mean, ever since my “family” of 9 moved, I feel pretty bored 80% of the time. Busy, but not EXCITED about life. Its kind of sad, but I know that this is just a season of well, loneliness in all honesty. I know that God is breaking past that’s going through, and turning this cold time of my life into a beautiful ice sculpture. It just takes a long time, long days of waiting.

I have been growing a LOT closer to my brother, however, and that has definitely been a plus! He really is incredible, and with my weekends not as busy of living at the Luman’s house, I have been able to spend a lot of time goofing around with him. I don’t know a lot of people, anyone really, who are as close as we are. We listen to Harry Potter on audio on car rides, go on walks after the rain, joke about things we used to do in California, make carmel corn and eat it while watching Perry Mason, etc. We had a blast at the Air Force Academy football game, and at Target shopping. Its nice having a brother you can have fun doing just about any random thing with, from watching James Bond to playing baseball in the backyard with your younger siblings.

Today was rather successful feeling, however you want to word that, go ahead, I don’t care. Church was good, refreshing. I have been feeling pretty awesome now that I’m pretty much off of sugar and dairy…I don’t get migranes or feel light headed, so I’m doing pretty awesome.  I was able to get some legit skinny jeans that don’t make me look like an idiot, and an aviator leather jacket at Target. AND (Theres more!!!) I started knitting again, I haven’t in 4 years. I am knitting (Drum roll, please) MULTICOLORED LEGWARMERS!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, thank you for the applause. Yes, I do realize how dorky they are, and YES, I still will make them and proudly wear them on cold winter nights. And as the rest of the state shivers uncontrollably, I will be nice and toasty wearing my pink-white-blue-purple, etc, knee high leg warmers. Now I’m gonna go laugh at myself for the 100th time.

Ok, so moving on…
Somehow I have this feeling that I should get my rear off the computer and finish my History reading that is supposed to be finished tomorrow morning…AND get some sleep for the next 5 days of school. :P

So, I’m trying to think what this post was about: Oh, its cold: problem. Dorky Legwarmers: Solution. Brothers=Awesome. Skinny Jeans=Awesome. Not dying from allergies=Awesome. And God will use my shadows to prove the sunshine!

So there it is 

~Annie

“Sunshine, won't you be my mother
Sunshine, come and help me sing
My heart is darker than these oceans
My heart is frozen underneath

We are crooked souls trying to stay up straight,
Dry eyes in the pouring rain
The shadow proves the sunshine
The shadow proves the sunshine

Two scared little runaways
Hold fast to the break of day light were
The shadow proves the sunshine”

Well, I guess inside I always knew that nothing stays the same.
But I hoped that it would...I just never really imagined all of this would happen. On Sunday morning, my best friends, Hannah and Olivia moved. We only had less than 2 weeks notice. Their dad's been out of work for awhile, they visited some friends out of state and he ended up getting a job offer. None of them wanted to go, but they had to. Well, we didn't have much time to say goodbye. No last chance fun expeditions like we were hoping. Saturday evening I had to say goodbye before going to work.
We bawled all over each other.
Its never easy to say goodbye.

“Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.”