Sheep Without a Shepherd

I saw him on the side of the road as I drove by, holding a sign that read 'Anything Helps.'

I looked away, pretended not to notice. I shoved down feelings of empathy. What did I have to give him, anyway?

I parked, stepped inside of the local Department Store, got what I needed and came back out. I strategically planned the way I would exit the parking lot, so as to avoid an uncomfortable encounter with said man. Much to my surprise, there was another man at the other end of the the parking lot, holding a similar sign.

I did the same thing. Pretended like I was looking for oncoming traffic, all the while fighting knots in my stomach. Should I help? Should I continue driving? Should I pray?

Pan handlers have never been common in my hometown-- its small enough that its just not seen a lot, but it has been increasing over the past year or so. And having lived in a much larger city while I attended University, one would think that I had learned how to interact when I saw them. Perhaps it wasn't as difficult there because I expected it. I don't expect it in my hometown of 25,000.

And quite honestly, it makes me uncomfortable.
It makes me feel awkward.
And it forces me to ask myself hard questions that I'd rather avoid.
I don't like the knots that arise and the tightness in my chest and the conviction to do something.

Its those times that the Lord reminds me of what Jesus' life looked like. It was marked with compassion, empathy and seeing and responding to those around him in need. I sometimes think, if Jesus lived in our world today, how would he live his life? Would he drive by the man or woman on the street corner, asking for help? Or would he look at them and see more than his own discomfort? Would he look at them and have compassion upon them, as sheep without a shepherd?

Yes.
Yes, that is his nature. His heart. His goodness. The good shepherd that lays down his life for his sheep. The one who sees man's heart and loves him anyway. The one who sees the broken mess of humanity and still chose to come, live a sinless life and die in our place.

It astounds me.

It challenges me.

It compels me to respond.

It convicts me to love others well.

I much prefer my comfort. But the Lord, in His goodness, does not allow me to wallow in comfort. He constantly asks me to take His hand as we journey into scary, uncharted territory. And he gives me His perspective to see those around me as beloved sheep, seeking for their shepherd.

And sometimes I have compassion, as He does.

And sometimes I have courage.

And sometimes I can see the marginalized and push past my discomfort, toward action.

And when I fail, He picks me up, wipes off my scraped knees, and takes my hand once again, teaching me about how to love others a whole lot better than I do.

This season I am grateful that He chose to come to this sinful, screwed up, broken world. I am glad that He saw what I often cannot see, and that He had compassion. 

I am grateful that He suffered and died so that me, and the man on the corner, equal at the foot of the cross, could know Him intimately.

"She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins". Matthew 1:21

There is reason to celebrate this marvelous love. The true reason for the season.

When Pre-Schoolers Teach You.

When I love someone, I want everyone to know them.

I feel that way about my sister and dad. I feel that way about my R.A. team from last year. I feel that way about my good friends. I just want everyone else to know them, because they're too darn awesome for others not to know them. I feel as though others are missing out if they don't meet these people I love. Like their life will be better after meeting those I care about.

And it is no different with my pre-schoolers. I've only been a pre school teacher for 3.5 months-- that doesn't seem like very long when I write it out, but it feels like its been much longer. I feel comfortable, confident and I've made some really sweet connections with some of the kiddos.

And I think they're awesome. It can be chaotic. It can be challenging. It can be frustrating. But it is always, always rewarding and worth it.

I find myself coming home, sharing funny stories about the kids. Wanting those that I love to meet my sweet pre-schoolers, because, well, they're so worth knowing. And because my life is better with them in it. I laugh all the time because of their imaginative minds and their funny stories. I am challenged by their simple faith, humility, and their ability to apologize and forgive quickly.

I am reminded of the fact that Jesus really loved children, and it makes perfect sense-- their hearts are pure and their faith genuine and uncomplicated. They know how to live beautifully in the simplicity of life.

They find worms on the playground and collect them in little buckets. It is their favorite game to play. They're not afraid of getting their fingers slimy or dirty. They are just thrilled to find worms or 'lerms' as one little girl calls them. And they're all named 'Anna' and 'Elsa.' I mean, really, what else would they be named?

They are proud of themselves when they do the monkey bars all by themselves. Or when they write their names unassisted. They still think burping is funny. They are so affectionate-- they still like hugs and band-aids still make everything better. They are unashamed to express their true emotions. I pray they don't lose that as they grow and the world tries to form them into its own mold. I pray they don't lose their ability to celebrate often. Love fully. Express themselves. Be Assertive. And believe with all that they are that Jesus is present, He is with them and He loves them.

I wish I could introduce these kids that have captured my heart to each of my friends and family. I know that they would agree that their lives were better simply because of the presence of these kids...

I am thankful, so so thankful that the Lord placed me at a pre-school, and has used that to shape me, teach me and grow me. Who knew kids were such great teachers?

Content and Grateful.

More than Enough.

I am a twenty-something, recent University grad with a job that I love and a community that I am grateful for, and I am single.

And I am okay with that.

In fact, I am more than okay with it.

For so long I was anything but okay with it. The word 'single' felt like a death sentence. It felt like an awful disease that I needed to heal from as soon as possible. Actually, most of my life it has felt that way.

But recently the Lord has shown me that this whole 'single' thing is not, in fact, a death sentence. And it is not a disease. It is a good  thing (I know, hold onto your hat...).

I was born single.
You were born single.
And the Lord says that we are created good.

In our single state, the Lord declared that we, in our essence and being, were good. Very good, in fact.

There is life to be had before and after marriage. There is life to be had outside of marriage (which, by the way is also good).

But the lie that Christian culture has bought into is that marriage is better than singleness. That marriage means you have somehow reached an 'elite' level in your spirituality. Or you are desirable (finally). Or that you are better than all of those single folk. They just haven't quite gotten there yet. They need more refining. They need better control of their emotions, temper, laziness, gluttony, addictions... They just need to be better. To do better.

Bull crap.

That is not the Gospel. It is not what the Lord says. Some of the heroes of the faith, the men and women we read about and esteem in the Bible were single. Paul the apostle. Jesus. 

So please, my friend, stop making your worth about whether or not you're in a relationship/engaged/married. Your worth has never, ever, ever been about that. And it never will be. Not in the eyes of God.

You have purpose now. I have purpose now. And even if I never get married, my life is still good. My convictions and passions and gifts are still being used (by the grace of God) and I it doesn't mean I am extra broken. It just means that our stories look different.

And that is okay. Beautiful, in fact.

Today you are of value. Tomorrow you are of value. Forever you are of value. Because you're His. May that be enough. {More than enough}.

A Letter to My Grieving Self, One Year Later

Dear Hannah,

I am writing this letter to you a year out-- you're still in the grips of intense grief, but I am here to tell you that it won't always feel the way it feels right now. You don't sleep well. You don't eat well. Sometimes your appetite is ravaging and sometimes its a chore just to eat at all. Tears don't come when they should-- they come at all the wrong times. Unexpectedly as you watch a movie. While you drive by yourself and in class when something reminds you of your mother. This is normal. Your heart needs to be free to grieve at will, so don't try to squelch it when the tears and sorrow bubbles up to the surface.

Hannah, have grace with those who don't know how to respond. They care a lot. But grief isn't something that is taught in school, the family or in church. People don't know what to do with it any more than you know what to do with it, so remember to embrace the awkward silences and those that want to ask you about it, but simply don't know how. Know that these people are your support system, your lifeblood in helping you to heal and they will become some of your closest friends.

You lack words to describe what you feel and you are unable to describe the emotion that wells up inside, but writing will become therapy for you. Write as much as you need to. It will bring healing, perspective and will connect you closer and closer with the Lord and with friends who will get a glimpse into your heart.

Don't be embarrassed about crying when you told yourself you wouldn't. And don't feel like you should be 'over it' after the cards and phone calls have ceased. Grief isn't on a time frame like that, and you can't force it to be. Talk when you need to, and be silent when you need to. People might tell you how to grieve, or what to expect. Know that your grief may look different than theirs. Grief is not something that can be put in a box.

Hannah, the most important thing that I want to share with you is this: Right now, at times it feels like you're drowning, like you're barely keeping your head above water. School, your job and grieving are all full time jobs and it feels like you can't stay on top of all of them. Grief is scary, terrifying at times. But it will not always feel this way. You've heard a thousand times, it gets easier, and it does. This might not bring you comfort now, but later you will look back and see that it was true. And Hannah, a year later, you are doing really, really well. You still have hard days and hard moments, but your heart is at peace and your spirit at rest. Your grief journey has been used to speak to other people and meet them where they are, helping them through their own grief. That is a priceless gift. You are going to be just fine. So grieve as you need to. You will always remember and love your mother, and you won't probably ever 'get over' her loss. But you can still thrive. You can still live a full life. You can still be joyful. And you are.

Hang in there. You've got the perfect people around you, hand picked by the Father himself.

Love, Hannah in a year.

When Brokenness Invades

"Portland, Oregon-- Air Quality at unhealthy levels due to smoke from wildfires. More than 875,000 acres are burning across the Northwest"

"Shoreham Airshow: 7 people killed in fighter jet crash, officials say"

"Molly Shattuck: Former ravens cheerleader sentenced to 48 weeks in jail for child sex abuse"

"Huggies: Company responds to Claim that Glass Shards were found in Baby Wipes Products"

"10 killed, thousands flee Philippines Typhoon"

"...Ashley Madison..."

Friends, my heart is heavy with the news headlines, taken directly from yahoo and facebook.

The older I get and the longer I use the internet, the more I am reminded of the brokenness of this world.

Whether it is through unavoidable natural disasters, or through really crappy and poor choices that are made, the world is crying out for help.

I find myself feeling burdened for the many traumas happening across the nation and around the world, and for those happening in my sphere of friends and acquaintances.

I don't know how to help or what to do, and yet, I know I cannot sit idly by as the world suffers and cries in agony at the pain of broken trust, sickness, abuse, the loss of loved ones, the fact that these websites even exist...

And right now, all I can do is pray. Pray hard and pray fervently for the hearts, the families involved. Because heart break is so, so painful and because I can't fix these problems.

The end of the story is not hopeless, I know that. But today my heart feels heavy as I realize and process through the immense brokenness that is this world, that is humans.

And I am reminded once again of why John 3:16 is so, so crucial.

We need a Savior.

My hope is that when you come to the end of yourself, and you realize that you have nothing left, you turn to Him. That you realize He is the healer of the brokenness, in this life and most certainly in the next.

He's there. And He's the One that is not afraid of brokenness. 

He's in the business of restoration. And He does it so well.

Turn to Him. 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, your rod and your staff, the comfort me. Psalm 23

Not My Plan

Life is funny.

As I think back on my life, almost nothing big has gone according to [my] plan.

As a middle and high school student, I looked into my future and saw myself married, and working as a teacher by age 22 (I am still not married at age 24).

As a Senior in high school I saw myself going directly to four year University and getting my degree in Early Childhood Education (I went to Community College first and got my degree in Psychology).

As a Community College student I started to see myself not so much as a 'classroom' teacher but perhaps as a counselor, or psychologist. And I still saw myself married with a house or apartment by 23 (at the latest, I mean, c'mon, people!)

As a YWAM student, having graduated from Community College (which was never my plan), I saw myself traveling over the next few years and being a missionary in Costa Rica, working long term with YWAM (I have not traveled to Costa Rica or done any more 'missions' work since then).

As a University Student I knew I was not going to be a classroom teacher and I majored in Psychology, thinking I would work at a non-profit with low income families. I wanted to be a skills trainer, advocate and mentor. I also still saw myself married by, well, maybe 25, since the 22-23 age range was not happening... (I am now graduated, and a pre-school teacher...)

And I always saw both parents alive and healthy for many, many years. I never, ever thought that I would be one that lost a parent at far too young an age. My kids were going to have both of their grandparents to dote over them (I lost my mom to cancer in September of last year).

I certainly never imagined myself having so many opportunities to travel; never pictured myself as an R.A. on the best team I could have asked for; didn't see myself counseling at camp and gaining a community there; and I never thought that I could be content in singleness.

My life certainly has not gone according to my plan, but I am realizing, that perhaps it was never meant to. Perhaps the changes were a part of His plan and they keep me trusting Him. Perhaps, even in the tragedies (which he also grieves at), He is teaching me that while sometimes His ways don't make sense to this heart and mind, His ways are always good. Always pure. And always, always, somehow, someway, turn out for good somewhere.

Contentment

Contentment.

Its the buzz word for young adults it seems. Everyone is searching for it. Hoping for it. It seems as though few have found it.

It hits different folks differently.

For some they're discontent in their job. They want to make more, be more, have a better boss or better co-workers.

For some its discontentment with their families, their home life. They want a better house, more understanding family or more free time.

For others its singleness. Or marriage. They want the opposite of what they have and seem to watch all of their friends enjoy either the 'freedom' of singleness or the blessings of marriage.

The list goes on and on. Point is, culture and simply our human nature makes it easy for unrest and discontentment to settle in and become the norm. And I think that as a culture we've mostly accepted it, deciding that discontentment is alright. After all, it causes us to work hard for what we want, right? Right??

Brene Brown discusses this in her book, 'Daring Greatly' (awesome read, by the way, pick up a copy ASAP-- its seriously that good!) She calls it the 'Scarcity Mentality'. It is this idea that has more or less, without question, been adopted by society. This idea that we never have enough. Not enough money. Not enough friends. Not enough popularity. Not a big enough house. Not a good enough body. We are lacking something that we need. Its wreaked havoc on our culture and our personal lives.

And its the opposite of gratitude.

Its the opposite of the powerful nature of gratitude. And this Scarcity Mentality is the fuel of discontentment. Its the idea that what someone else has is better than what we have. How sad is that?

Gratitude may just be the hardest thing some of us may ever do. Its not our natural outlook. Its 'natural' to want more. But gratitude brings a powerful force to society and to our families and communities, and for Christians, it is what we are called to. Thanksgiving. Worship. Praise. Gratitude. 

Contentment is difficult for me. So often I look at the lives of those around me and I want what they have. I want a stable job, an apartment, a relationship, a ministry.... and I miss the gifts I have been given that are unique and hand picked by our Father himself.

I imagine it hurts the Father's heart when I sit there, arms crossed, stamping my feet, demanding something that isn't mine to have. And yet, I do it all the time. And I encase it in words of  'its a desire of my heart' (it is) and 'I've waited so long, I don't know why they get it and I don't'... but all along I am missing what is right in front of me. Like an ungrateful child on Christmas morning, wanting the scooter that their brother got, instead of enjoying the bike that they received.

 I am convinced that gratitude can change the world. And it starts with you and me, deciding to thank the Lord for the many, many undeserved and amazing things He's placed in your life and mine. I haven't earned them, but He's allowed me to have them anyhow.

Today I choose gratitude. And tomorrow (hopefully) I'll choose gratitude again. And  I have a feeling that little by little I may just get a tiny glimpse of that contentment that Paul spoke of in Philippians (4:12), regardless of circumstance.

E u c h a r i s t e o

Go and Sin no More...

I've stayed quiet about current happenings that have the media buzzing. I have opinions, but they don't always need to be stated. And recently as I was reading a headline, it struck me-- Christians are NEVER called to be hateful.

Now, there is a huge difference between engaging in a discussion, or even calling others to live by high standards and hate, but far too often, I think, controversial topics become bashing sessions. They become hateful banter. They are rooted in pride and are not meant to draw others closer to the Lord or to spread the Gospel. They are simply meant to make an angry, ranting point that perhaps, at the end of the day does more harm than good.

How do we hold to our convictions and to the truth of scripture and yet lovingly, gracefully and tactfully have conversations about moral issues? I don't think its the way we've been doing it.

When I look at Jesus' life, I am amazed by the incredible amount of grace and love he showed to those that were caught in sin, or were confused or stuck or simply didn't know what to do with their lives. He did not condone sin, but he so deeply loved the individual and they walked away feeling valued, built up and genuinely cared for, as Jesus called them to 'go and sin no more' (John 8:11). He was calling them to a higher standard than what they had for themselves, but he also looked upon them with all of the love and value that anyone could bestow. He cared a lot more about their souls and their relationship with Him and the Father than He did about condemning their sin and feeling the need to call out everything they did wrong.

 He cared about relationship.

He didn't care about status. Or being 'cool'. Or making sure everyone was towing the line constantly. He cared about the status of individual souls, and that happened only through a caring relationship and through the deep, deep love that only Jesus could show.

So I guess I don't know exactly what my response to every hot button issue should be. But I know for a fact that it should NOT be one of hate. Pride. Condemnation. Because that is not Jesus' way. And I cannot in good conscience call out everyone else's sin without first looking into my own messy heart and asking the Lord to work in the midst of rubble.

My resolve is to show a little more love and little more care, a little more genuine interest and a little less judgment and shock at the brokenness of the world. 

Sanctification hurts, but it is the Lord's working in our lives and is the most 'worth it' thing I can think of-- becoming more like Jesus is always worth it.

Here's to learning to love better.

On Being 'Busy' and Learning to Rest.

Busy.

Its the buzz word of the century it seems. if you stop and ask anyone over the age of 10 about their lives, the word 'busy' is sure to make its way into the conversation.

Everyone is busy.

And I get it, life is demanding. There are bills to be paid, groceries to be bought, mouths to be fed, children to be loved, bathed, put to bed, taught, driven to school. There are jobs and church and volunteer and friends and family and the list goes on and on. Sometimes it seems as though the day is severely lacking in hours needed to complete everything on the 'to do' list called 'LIFE.'

American culture doesn't help. Subtly, culture has taught us that 'busy'= valuable, 'not busy'= not valuable. We've been led to believe that being busy is close to godliness. That's how the saying goes, right...??

My parents modeled really well the unique and difficult balance of hard work, and resting well. I don't know any other people that had that part of their lives balanced quite as well. Growing up I always knew that I was expected to work hard at school and at whatever task was before me-- to give it my best effort. But I was also taught to enjoy simplicity-- down time. To revel in it and embrace it. Sundays were our 'day of rest' and boy, did we rest. Taking a three hour nap while simultaneously stuffing my face with nachos and watching Nascar races counts as rest... 

I recently graduated from University and I've heard the classic questions hundreds of times by this point "What are you going to do with your life?" Its daunting, really. But I appreciate that people are curious and that they care. 

I decided before I graduated that I was going to take some time off. I was not going to work for a while. After all, I had literally had the busiest, most difficult, challenging, most rewarding, fun, full of laughter, full of tears, draining and rewarding year of my life. From sun up to sun down I was going. Constantly. And that is hard on a person, long term. 

I've been home for over a month now, and people start to get antsy. They start to expect me to have a job by now. And I expect that too. But it isn't my reality, and in fact, my body is still recovering. And recovery is sometimes a long and fragile process. It cannot be rushed. So, 'recovery' in this case requires rest. And for me, right now, 'rest' means being content with taking care of our home (you would not believe the number of dishes two people can make in a day... ridiculous...), being present with my family, investing in friends lives-- helping plan weddings, and watch their babies and listen to their goals and plans. It involves making good on that goal of exercising regularly (I actually enjoy running now. I know, I nearly went into shock when I realized that too...). Its about bringing my cat to the vet and taking pictures of important events and going out to brunch with my sister. 

Right now, my life is about the simple things. Loving the Lord and loving those in my direct line of influence. This is always my goal, but right now that is seen through the simplicity of my life. 

And perhaps this glorification of busy actually hurts us more than it helps. Perhaps its become an idol and a place in which we've found our identity more than it is about living fully. 

I am convinced that when God was creating, He chose to rest on the seventh day as an example to His children. As a reminder of the importance of rest.  

So here is to simplicity and remembering that my identity, your identity does NOT come from being busy. I can be busy and not be productive. I can have a relatively free schedule and be more productive than one might imagine. 

Time is the most valuable gift I can give to another. I am grateful that right now, I have an abundance of it to give. I think I am able to love others in a less hurried way because of it. 

So my friends, learn to REST. It is not easy, and I am by no means an expert, but I am learning (by default, and my body rebelling against me) what it looks like to both live fully and to rest well.  

Rest was God's idea, after all. 
 

What Experiential Learning Taught Me

Trust.

That is the primary lesson I learned through Experiential learning this year. As a part of that we hiked at Silver Creek Falls, being asked to do some unexpected things in order to build trust and learn to communicate as a team. We had to each place our feet in a rope that had loops in it, while hiking on some rocky terrain, we were forced to walk together, to communicate and trust each other as we worked hard to not fall.

This was just the beginning of learning to lean on one another as a team, and take that into our job as R.A.'s this year. Knowing that we had a support system behind us that loved us and was cheering us on allowed the hard parts of the job to feel a little easier, and the victorious and rewarding parts of the job to be that much sweeter.

 It was a risk, just like walking with that rope around our ankles-- we feared we might trip and sometimes we couldn't see very far in the distance, so we also had to trust our leader to get us safely to where we needed to be. It was out of everyone else's hands. I learned that these people called 'my team' were some of my biggest supporters and they were trustworthy.

We also had to learn to trust the ultimate leader, our Heavenly Father. It is not always easy. There are difficult conversations, residents that are sometimes disconnected and emotional time and energy when you're feeling empty is often required. It was in those moments that we had to realize and remember the goodness and trustworthiness of our Father. We had to place it in His hands, believing that He knew where we were going, even when we couldn't see it.

Trust is a difficult lesson, but a crucial one to the life of the believer. Experiential Learning showed me the importance of trust at the deepest level.

Great is Thy Faithfulness

People often ask me if it is hard to think about the future without my mom. They wonder what it feels like to know she won't be present.

In response, I always tell them 'yes, it is hard. So, so hard.' I hate the fact that she won't be present at my graduation in a week. She so desperately wanted to be there and reminded my sister and I over and over how proud she was of us. I wish she could see it, and maybe she can. I don't know what heaven is like.

Right after mom passed away, when I would think of the future, I could hardly imagine doing life without her there. How would I know what to do when I had a baby that was colicky at 2 in the morning? What about when I needed relationship advice? Who would I go to? I realized that I so desperately needed my mom, but I didn't have a choice. She was gone, and I was forced to learn what it looked like to do life this side of heaven without her. That felt daunting and terrifying.

As the days and weeks continued, the fear subsided little by little and I realized that I was able to function, despite the difficulty. I realized that my heart, while deeply pained, was resilient.

My mom won't be physically present when I say 'I do' or when I have my first child or when I graduate or start my first full time job, and that grieves me. But I also find joy in remembering and knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was so, so proud of my sister and I. And I am comforted by the gentle and yet fierce embrace of my Heavenly dad. He truly is the best comforter and the wonderful counselor. He's given me all I've needed through the darkest days of my life. The days when I was confused and scared and angry, He brought peace and a deep reminder of His greatness and steadfast love.

Steadfast. Unmovable. Never ending. Constant.
That is the Father's love for His children, and I have experienced that more profoundly these past 8 months than ever before.
Great is His Faithfulness. 

Am I Good Enough Now? (Part I)

"Yeah, I always feel like someone could do my job so much better than me", she confessed over a cafeteria lunch on that overcast Spring day.

I was astonished-- she is so, so good at her job. Like, it amazes me how dedicated, disciplined and caring she is through her leadership.

We continued talking, honestly divulging our deep seated fears and uncertainties over our job performance. I wondered if I was the best person for the job, and she wondered the same. I told her that at the end of the day I really want to be accepted and I long for approval of man. She confessed the same. And in that moment we realized how similar we were-- two young women, seeking to serve the Lord, attending a small Christian University, who were afraid of disappointing others.

And if experience has taught me anything, I don't think we're alone.

I work with a lot of people. I have a lot of conversations. I hear a lot of fears. And the more time I spend hearing people's stories, the more I realize that a resounding question of the human race, is this: "Am I good enough?" Everyone seems to be asking it.

Deep down, we fear that we are failing, that we are a disappointment, that we aren't quite good enough. That somehow everyone else has found the secret to 'having it all together' and somehow we never got the memo.

Our conversation continued, and I told her "I think where the problem comes in for me is through comparison. We compare our insides to everyone else's outsides..."

As I think about this epidemic, I wonder where we got off thinking that we aren't 'good enough.' I wonder who made us believe that? I wonder who spoke those lies?

I have some educated guesses, but who gets to override what the Lord says and tell us that we are a failure, a disappointment, that we're not accepted?

The lies are so embedded, sometimes it feels nearly impossible to untangle the truth from the lies and to throw out the lies and grasp tightly to the truth.

I don't have the answers to this dilemma, but I invite you to join me for this series, asking and attempting to answer the age old question: "Am I good enough?"

More than I can Handle

"God won't give you more than you can handle."

I hear well meaning Christians say this often. Many times it is thrown because of discomfort or in an effort to ease the pain of a friend or family member. The intention is good, but the idea is false. It is not found anywhere in scripture (although a verse in 1 Corinthians talking about temptation is often quoted in order to make this point).

I guess having lost my mother at far too young an age and long before I was 'ready' for it makes me reject this notion. It was more than I could handle.
I was a mess and grief shook me to the core.

Almost six months later, I am in a healthy place. I am not so fearful. Not so scared. Not so drained and exhausted. Not searching for words constantly.

And I guess my point is this-- while I understand and appreciate the sentiment behind this idea, for the one who has suffered deep loss and trauma, this just sounds like a pat answer. And it isn't true.

I could not handle losing my mom. I wasn't prepared. But the story doesn't end there. I didn't have to be able to 'handle' it. I didn't have to be strong enough. I couldn't be, no matter how hard I tried. I simply couldn't be.

But, long before that day I began a relationship with the One who could handle it. Long before that day I put my trust in the One who holds and handles the world and was also big enough to hold my problems. And that brought more peace than anything else. 

This notion of needing to be strong enough only leads to striving, working harder and becoming discouraged and disillusioned when we fail.

So I encourage you to seek out the One who can hold and handle your problems. There is nothing He can't handle. That is very good news.

Date-ability and Desirability

"What about you, Hannah? Have you ever been in a relationship?" He asked as we walked back to my dorm.

"Nope, never been in a relationship" I answered. I wasn't ashamed, but I realized how odd that was coming out of the mouth of a nearly 24 year old.

"Can I ask why?" He inquired. There was no ill-will in his voice. He was simply curious, and he cared, as friends do.

I thought for a moment, hemmed and hawed a little bit and then answered: "Well, in high school, there were guys in my class and such, but you know, they were 17, 18 and had some growing to do. Plus, it wasn't really encouraged growing up. We didn't really talk about it in my family, so it was never something I did. And after high school I moved around so much. I was never in one place very long to be able to form those close relationships, I guess... and I'm also not that aggressive I guess. I am content in where I am. Mostly. I'm not always, but I know when it comes, it will be the right timing."

This was true. I was content. And I did love what I was doing. But there was a part of me that, like my friend, also asked "why?"

Why haven't I been in a relationship? Well, because I've never been seriously pursued by a male. Sure, there has been interest there, but it never turned into anything more than friendship.

Why haven't I been in a relationship? The me five years ago would have told you it is because I was too emotional, too uncertain, too much, not enough, too quiet, too opinionated, too 'everything'.

Why haven't I been in a relationship? Truth is, I don't know. I have spent hours and days agonizing over that exact question. Analyzing, wondering, worrying, fearing. Am I too dependent? Am I not aggressive enough? Am I too flighty? Am I too quiet? Am I too plain? Am I not expressive enough? I want to have the answer. I want to put it in a box and label it: "This is why". I want to be able to pull out the contents and examine them and understand why, in 24 years I have never had a male friendship progress into a 'relationship.'

People have told me numerous times "Hannah, you'll make a great wife and mom someday, the man who gets you will be a lucky man." I am flattered and honored. And I do believe it, but I guess I've also come to realize that relationship status doesn't determine 'date-ability'. It doesn't determine desirability. Being single does not mean that I am less desirable than the one that is in a relationship. Maybe it just means my story looks different than theirs. Maybe it means that the Lord chose to allow me to have different, unique, shaping experiences. Not better, not worse. Just different. And maybe that diversity is a beautiful thing.

I have spent years wondering what needed to change. I figured if I was in my twenties and hadn't ever been in a relationship, then something was seriously wrong. Because everyone I knew had been in a relationship or had at least had serious interest by that point. Because everyone kept making comments about 'finding someone' and settling down. Because everyone eyed me when an attractive man walked by. Because, well you're twenty, and that is what you do when you're twenty.

Friends, if I could share with you one thing in regards to relationships, it would be this-- please do not believe that lie that if you haven't dated, it is because you're not wanted. Please to do not believe the lie that says you need to be dating in order to be valuable. Please do not believe the lie that says that marriage is the end-all, be-all of life. It is a beautiful, amazing, God-given gift that is good. But it is not all there is. It is not all you are. Don't waste years of your life agonizing over if you are wanted by a man.

Because you are wanted. Everyday of your life you are wanted. You are wanted by the one that gave His very life to have a relationship with you. And knowing that does not leave room for questioning your value. He's already determined it. He's already proven it. 

I pray that you rest in knowing that no matter what your relationship status is, you are desirable. You are loved. Massively loved. His heart is the only one that can truly fill yours.
 May you have shalom in His presence.
He delights in His children.

The Choice of Apathy

"I could care about school, but I'm graduating in May."

I cringed as I heard this statement, walking down the hill from class the other day. Immediately my mind felt outrage mixed with sadness. Outrage at the flippancy of it. Sadness at the truth of it.

In some respects, I understand the feeling. 'Senioritis', as we often call it sets in and plants itself. And its stubborn and hard to uproot. There are numerous moments when motivation was scarce and when I honestly felt as though I didn't care a whole lot. I get it.

But I also know that while we do not always have control of our immediate emotions, we do have control over our response to them. Sometimes we want to want something. But we don't actually want it. That is a tough place to be. And I have learned that in those moments, we have a choice. We can choose to allow those emotions and the apathy to rule our lives or we can choose a different path. We can choose to 'boss around our emotions' at times and persevere in the midst of feelings of apathy.

Apathy is a powerful motivator... to do nothing. And often times it wins in the battle of our will. Often times, we give in to apathy and choose to do the easy thing. The un-risky thing. We choose to take the path of least resistance and an overall attitude of not caring sets in. That scares me. It scares me because I know how easy apathy is. The feeling of apathy is not one that we can always 'will away' but we can and do choose what we will do in the midst of apathy. I also know that the Lord does not allow us to remain in apathy. We are called to more. Much more.

Paul reminds the church at Rome to not be slothful in zeal but fervent in spirit in chapter 12, verse 11. This has been a struggle since the dawn of time. Apathy is easy. Taking action is hard. But, often times the hard things are the most worthwhile. Life-giving. God honoring. And they matter. They matter a lot.

So I guess my challenge to myself (and to you) is to choose to do what is right even when my feelings don't line up. To choose fervency instead of apathy. To choose the 'road less traveled' instead of the path of least resistance.

Because our choices matter.