Single (yet, again) for the Holidays

I wanted to put these words down during the holiday season. However, I just couldn't. I couldn't go there. I couldn't admit my disappointment. I couldn't voice my true feelings when I was supposed to be one who shares encouragement and is blessed beyond measure (because clearly those people don't have hurts- insert my own eye-roll at myself). So, I didn't write and have avoided other posts for the sheer fact of not wanting to address this topic. But, I have spent the last few days reading, thinking, praying, jotting, listening, and I know that I need to write this for me and maybe even for some of you.

Walking into Thanksgiving and the holiday season, I felt refreshed, renewed and restored compared to where I was over the holidays last year. The thought of being single for the holidays didn't create a sense of disappointment, or even panic, as it typically had. That is, until it did. Sitting outside by a fire in the middle of nowhere at a cabin in Arkansas on Thanksgiving day, it hit. Here I was, again, watching my brother and sister with families to call their own, adventures to take with their people, and then there was me. Constantly wondering if that will even be part of my story and desperately hoping for it to be, my heart sank and the tears flowed and all of a sudden I was not looking forward to this time of year that I truly love.

At one point refusing to decorate (thankful for a very close friend that talked me out of that), I just was not sure I could put on the face of being holly and jolly with where I was in life. I also was not sure I really wanted to tackle these feelings because they are deep and true and scary and full of what-ifs and the unknown. But I didn't want despair to be my narrative. I get to determine how the next month plays out and I knew I didn't want to spend the month dreading Christmas, a day that brings life to my faith.

I made a resolve to get up early each morning (this time is so refreshing for me) listen to worship music, read the story of Christ's narrative in scripture, journal and pray (all while enjoying my coffee, obviously). I unpacked the Christmas boxes, shopped for baking supplies galore, got the Christmas playlists going, and started enjoying the days. I hosted friends that are more like family for evenings of baking, hot chocolate, and games. Cookies were in the oven anytime I was home and sometimes for hours on end.

I made decisions for me, which at times is easy and then there are times when I am changing what normally is and might hurt someone's feelings that it isn't so easy. When I typically head straight to Tyler once school is out, I hung around Spring/ Houston just a little bit longer for time with friends. For the first time ever, I attended my Christmas Eve services. It was perfect. Those feelings and desire to be married and have a family of my own were still there, but I was able to enjoy where I was. It felt like my "healthiest" Christmas yet....well, in regards to my emotional and spiritual health, at least. All those cookies are tempting and delicious and MUST be tasted before being gifted to someone else.

It was the healthiest. Until it wasn't. And then I felt like the last month was erased or had this big lie written on it. I know now this is so far from the truth, but at that time, that was the reality. The feelings crept back in. The what-ifs, doubts, visions of years to come just like this flashed through my head. I spent the days avoiding any thoughts that came and the evening in tears, begging God for answers, expressing my anger and hurt and confusion. So, just when I thought I was ready to write about the holidays, it was now something I did not even address.

What changed? Coming home, I knew I had to change. I talked with two ladies that have been such a treasure to me they will never know just how grateful I am for them. I sought wise counsel. I tried not to squash feelings when they surfaced but voice them, in all their rawness. I have poured over scriptures, kept Shane and Shane's Psalms Live album on repeat, and taken time to just sit. Today, as Winter Storm Inga blessed us with a snow day, I took the time for me that I didn't have, or maybe even allow, over the Christmas break.

With a puzzle on my table, I pressed play to a podcast that was recommended to me. I listened as Annie Downs spoke with Mike Foster about her life as a single woman who longs for a marriage and family of her own. Once I moved past the feel of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, I soaked in every word, pausing to jot down ideas that resonated with my heart, my story. Needless to say, tears flowed. I listened (twice actually) as she shared her journey, her fears, her hurts, her struggle, her battle with not just giving the "Christian" answer to the questions but how she truly feels.

I don't know what therapy is "fun," but she's worth listening to.

As she was sharing about her hopes, she said, "It is one thing to be loved by a family and another thing to belong to a family." I am deeply loved, accepted and included by many amazing families and my life is richly blessed because of each of them. My brother and sister continually invite me in to their families, allowing me time with the most amazing kiddos ever. On Christmas Eve and Christmas day, I spent time with two families here in Spring that I don't consider just friends. In Tyler, I missed out on time with a family that has considered me part of theirs since I was 18. I know I am deeply loved by many families. I cling to the hope and desire to one day belong to my own family. I hope to wait until the kids go to sleep to pretend to be Santa and fight with toys that have to be built, quickly and quietly. I hope to sit with my husband as he shares the story of Christmas and what that means with our children. Sometimes, like Annie, I am scared of that hope because I am terrified my God will disappoint me.

But I have to, and will continue to, cling to hope. Hope that God will allow a husband and children to be part of my story. Hope, that no matter what the journey looks like in the days to come, I will not dwell on the past, get lost in the what-ifs of the future, and forget to be present in the now. And I will trust that He is at work. So, now I have Psalm 34 playing, a "Houston" winter wonderland outside my window, a blanket, coffee and Annie's book, Let's All Be Brave: Living Life with Everything You Have.

Because of Harvey

Being single with no kids, means the options in life are endless- where I live, work, go, you name it... and this isn't always a positive. This is my sixth year living in Houston. For those six years, I have not truly made it home and I definitely have not planted in one place. If I am honest with myself and with you, I have intentionally not planted deep roots here just in case something comes up and I need or want to move. This has even been true in my church life, as I have bounced between a few different places over my six years here, keeping everything at arm's length.

Just a few weeks before Hurricane Harvey was even a thought, I felt as though I was supposed to return to a church that I had been to so many times- always in "visitor" mode. Most of my daily community goes to Faithbridge and my attempt to plug in somewhere else had not worked- because I never really allowed it. As one that craves authentic community, it is impressive how much I have dodged it in an attempt to not settle here too deeply (you know, just in case I need to go somewhere else.) I knew the church I was going to was wonderful but not where I was supposed to be. Reluctantly, I returned to Faithbridge, not fully convinced that I would plug in and call this place home.

And then came Harvey.

As Harvey was making its way through Houston and the surrounding areas, my heart ached. My heart ached because for the first time, I felt like this was MY city, MY home, MY community and it was hurting. I watched in disbelief as the waters took over neighborhoods, highways, and business places. I prayed for those in danger and those evacuated already due to flooding. I listened to the newscasters as they kept us up to speed on the minute by minute happenings. I paced and ate and prayed and paced and cried and texted and prayed and ate. Once the rains finally slowed, I waited for word that it was time to get out and help those that had been directly impacted.

Wednesday, August 30 the text came through that it was time to go, time to clean, time to serve.  I was going to help and to bless others, but instead the blessings I received because of Harvey are greater than I could have ever imagined.

Because of Harvey, I had the privilege of meeting and serving alongside people that were willing to give their time to help those impacted by the flooding. People ready to give their love to people that were deeply hurting. The team at Faithbridge quickly mobilized hundreds of volunteers in a time of intense need.

Because of Harvey, I was invited into the homes of people I would have never met as our Faithbridge teams helped pull all the wet out so their homes could begin the drying process. The homeowners graciously allowed us to be a part of an extremely difficult time. I shed tears with many, was humbled by their stories, prayed for restoration, and walked through the cleaning out process with them and now have new friends.

Amanda and Jose have quickly become friends and I promise it is not
 just because they sent me home with barbecue the other day.

Because of Harvey, I was allowed the opportunity to lead teams into the homes of community members that were hurting. Where I once knew just a few people, I now have many friends who have walked through the devastation with me as we ventured out into the community.

Because of Harvey, I worked with people from around the state (my Baker crew from Tyler) and country (new friends from Chicago and a marine from San Diego). They stopped what they were doing and came to serve with us. To share with a homeowner the stories of those willing to drive a couple hundred miles or hop on an airplane just so they could come help is a powerful thing.

This team went out on an unofficial serve day and was joined by a marine
from San Diego who just couldn't fathom sitting and doing nothing. 

Because of Harvey, I witnessed churches unite in the streets as we went into home after home, helping in any way possible. Without each other, we could not have done it. We shared expertise, tools, and lunch.

Eric from Bayou City Fellowship, LR (lovely homeowner with a faith
stronger than I can describe), her sweet friend,
and myself on Monday- day 6 of going into homes. The Lord knew I
needed her joy, a good friend from Matzke, and another
church team to make it through the day. 

Because of Harvey, I was challenged and encouraged to look at life in a different way. Stuff is stuff. Work is work. People and relationships are what truly matter. While I have known this, it is easy to get distracted and allow other things to take over my thoughts and energy.

Because of Harvey, I have seen my friends and family from outside of Houston reach out and desire to help those hurting. Many have loved the people around me in ways that will forever be felt through their gifts and prayers. Looking at new friends and old as they are hurting and letting them know people from all over care about them always brings a smile.

Because of Harvey, Houston is home and not just a place I live. This is definitely not the time to leave. Big things are happening.

Because of Harvey, I am a Faithbridger and finally have a church home. A month ago, Faithbridge was a place I was reluctantly considering and today it was a place where I was in the midst of family. To my new family and to those that have allowed me into your homes, into your lives, and into your pain, thank you. John, Seth, Kim, Annee, Dylan, and all those I am missing on the Faithbridge team, thank you for allowing me to be a part as we love on our community after Harvey.

Because of Harvey, I am forever changed and forever grateful.

Heartbroken Yet Incredibly Hopeful

I, like so many of my friends in and around Houston, am heartbroken as we sit and watch this storm demolish our city, our neighborhoods, our schools, and so many homes. The sights are unfathomable. The pounding rain off and on (more on than off), constantly reminding us that our city will not be what it was when we went to sleep Saturday night. The rain has dumped at such a high rate and for so long that the water had no choice but to take over. 

My heart aches for a city I have called home for over 6 years now- wondering how former students, their families, friends, coworkers- from my days at Arrow Academy in South Houston all the way out to Cypress- are doing with all of this. I am thankful again for technology and the ability to hear from many. Tears have fallen as I have watched the devastation being faced by so many. I sit feeling helpless, desperately wanting to help but knowing for now that is through prayer. 

But in the midst of this heartbreak, I remain hopeful. Hopeful as a city of such immense diversity stand as one to help anyone and everyone nearby no matter what color, religion, sexual orientation or political affiliation. Hopeful that a world that is hurting and divided, is witnessing a beautiful picture of love as people are helping other people simply because they need help. Hopeful that those who have lost everything are being rescued and brought to safety where shelter, food, and clean water awaits them. Hopeful as people from around the globe send prayers for safety, funds for relief, messages of love. 

Hurricane Harvey and the days thereafter will always be remembered for its catastrophic flooding and intense devastation but more than that it will be a reminder of how love always wins. Serving and helping others will always over power stories of hurt and hate. Standing as one city will be louder to those watching than a few divided. As the rain continues to pound our city, as we continue to wait and watch, praying that the floodwaters stay down, I am thankful for God's reminder that His love never fails. 

Houston (and the surrounding areas), you are my city and you always will be. Thank you for all that you have and will continue to teach me through your people. We will continue to pray for all those that were impacted and will be impacted by this storm- those in Corpus Christi, Port Aransas, Rockport and surrounding cities, those in and around Houston, and those in Louisiana now getting some impact from the storm. 

Thank you to those that continue to check in and pray- don't stop. Continue to pray for our first responders, city officials, volunteers, and all those involved in rescues and care. Our people are tired. They have given so much already and there is still so much to do. They have left their friends and family behind as they go and serve and for that we are more thankful than they will ever know. 

Look for the Beauty Around You

Many have asked what happened to the blogging over the summer. Well, I intentionally disconnected from the writing and carried the blogs and thoughts in my head, in my journal, in conversations. Summer for me is time with family, with my beautiful nieces & handsome nephew, lazy days with friends, and meeting the newest of the family- my adorable nephew, Wyatt. I knew I did not want the distraction of formulating words on the computer in the midst of trying to soak in every moment with them. So, Bitter Party of 1 took a bit of a siesta and the writing that happened in my head rarely made it to the screen.

Just as I was prepared to write, the turmoil of our nation- racism, white supremacy, hatred- took the forefront. My heart aches. I am sickened. I have no words. There is fear and confusion and disgust and anger and outrage and deep hurt. How could I write about something that would seem so frivolous in the midst of what my friends of a color different than my own are watching and experiencing? What could I even say at that point? How do I respond to the ignorance I witness on the news, Facebook, and any other social media outlet? I still don't know the answer to that.

I am embarrassed and angry. I am disgusted by the actions and words I see and hear. I wonder what the people I interact with on a daily basis will wonder when they look at me, a white American. I will never understand the hurt that many of my dear friends experience because I have always had white privilege on my side. That I can't change. What I can do though is combat the hate with love. I can show the people around me- of any color, nationality, religion, sexual orientation- genuine love. I can listen to their words. I can shed tears with them. I can stand by their side and say, I am here. I can look for the beauty in each and every person I encounter.

Hate is taught. That is clear. Walk into any classroom of young children and they do not see the color of someone's skin, they do not know the differences in their religions, they are classmates- all on the same playing field. It is often as they become older and more aware of what people are saying and doing around them, that you see the shift. If hate can be taught, so can love and love overpowers hate more than anything. As an educator, our job right now is bigger than we could ever imagine. Our students are listening- to the tone in our voice, the words that exit our mouths, the way we speak to the people around us. They are watching every action we make- subtle or not. They are paying attention and they will respond to the way we act. If I was frustrated with a student, I found that my other students also became easily frustrated. If I responded with grace and love and patience, they did the same. The conversations we have in our classrooms are shaping their minds, their belief systems, their future. And they should not be taken lightly. We must teach LOVE through all that we do.

Recently a pastor asked about the beauty around us... He asked what we had seen lately that we considered beautiful...

I saw beauty...

at brunch as we shared a table and conversation with a stranger of a different color because those were the only seats in the house and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. We talked baseball and food and the benefits of the city and being single.

yesterday when the woman at the ball game had the biggest smile on her face and greeted each and every person that came her way with joy- no matter who they were. She was black. I am white. It didn't matter.

last night as I was able to sit across the table from very dear friends with very different backgrounds and discuss the recent events, listen to their thoughts, share mine, talk about life, laugh together, pray together,  share a meal together and walk away knowing the Lord is bigger than the ignorance that one color is better than others.

in memories of my classes of the past- packed with multiple colors, religions, cultures- and seeing them love each other through the good days and bad.

as I was able to have a long overdue FaceTime call with a friend from Zimbabwe as we shared what was happening in our lives- he shared his struggles and triumphs, I shared mine- both mattered.

It's easy to stick to the people that look just like us, sound like us, worship like us, believe like us... but I can guarantee when that happens, we are the only ones missing out. We miss out on the beauty of diversity. We miss out on stories we would never know without someone nearby sharing them with us. We miss out on this beautiful world around us. My challenge to you tonight is to look for the beauty around you and share that with others. Say hi to someone you normally wouldn't. Engage in conversation with someone that you wouldn't normally talk to. Watch. Listen. I promise your heart will be touched and you will walk away changed.

To all the Single Ladies...

This blog is for you.

In just these last few months of blogging, I have been amazed at the number of women that would write, text, and call with their own experiences and connections to what I was writing. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes we vent. But the thing is, we connect. In a "coupled" culture, it never fails that conversations with people often turn to dating life. And then one of these (often well-meaning) comments is spoken...

• Still single, huh? (Nope, just hiding my husband in the future.)
• Enjoy singleness while you can, girl. Marriage is hard. (Enjoying it- to the max. Any stage of life is hard.)
• Well, do you want to get married and have kids? (Um... yes, but that doesn't change where I am now.)
• Are you putting yourself out there? (Where exactly am I supposed to put myself? Anyone? Bueller? I mean... I am not a recluse.)

  

  We put ourselves "out there..." Never mind the fact that it was with thousands of crazy women and just a few poor men that took one for the team.  

• Have you tried online dating? (Girl- I have some STORIES for you and that will be saved for blog mini-series.)
• I don't understand why you are still single??? You are sooooo _________________. (Yes, I know. If you figure out why, will you clue a sister in?)
• You have PLENTY of time! Wait... you're how old? Oh.... (Thanks...)
• I have this friend/ cousin/ second cousin twice removed... I think they're still single... (Does he love Jesus? Does he have a J-O-B? Can I see a picture? Bring him on.)
• You go to a big church, don't they have a good singles group. (I am not touching this one...)
• He's out there somewhere... (You found him? Tell me more...)
• The Lord is still working on him for you. (Could you give me a time table?)
• Girl, it will happen when...
• you least expect it. 
• you are totally sold out to the Lord. (What does this mean exactly?)
• you stop searching. (Um, this is not google.)
• you stop looking for the right person and become the right person. 
• Well, not everyone is meant to be married... look at Paul. (Yep. He's legit.)
• Don't be too picky. (Why not? This isn't a dinner choice.)

And many more. (Thanks to all you ladies who contributed to this list. You know who you are and I am thankful for your presence in my life!)

Here is what we know... our friends and family love us and want the best for our lives. These questions and comments often come from them knowing out hearts and desire to one day share our lives with someone. But... these comments and questions often leave us, as single women, unsure of how to answer and respond. And depending on the day, may stir up a wide range of emotions from disappointment, confusion, shame or even anger. I don't know about you, but... Sometimes, I want to walk away without saying a word. Sometimes, I fight back tears and pray for the conversation to end as quickly as possible. Sometimes, I have a snarky remark camped out in my head... that may or may not slip out. Sometimes, I can answer with where I truly am in regards to it all. Sometimes, I want to say, "I don't know. What is wrong with me?" Sometimes, the shame and hurt is more than I can bear. 

Over the years, I have been guilty of saying some of these very things or others that hurt people without me even knowing... and will probably continue to say something stupid from time to time. I have been quick to ask women who are married questions regarding children, with no clue of what is actually happening in their lives- infertility, miscarriages, disagreements between spouses on the subject, or anything else. My words and questions have caused women to feel the same things I have felt, just in regards to her situation. 

Before you get all concerned and worried, know that Christy and I are cracking up as we type this. Christy and I have been dear friends for 14 years. Both of us thought we would be married and have kids before we ever met. Both of us thought for sure we would have met that man at some point in the last few years, but God's plans are not our own... and we are both incredibly thankful for that. Just like in the post "Gift of Motherhood," we can both see how God has worked and continues to work in our lives. When we are faced with questions we don't have the answers to, our hope is that we would look to our Loving Father for guidance, peace, and comfort. His definition of life is not anything we can write on our own and that is a GOOD thing. 

I know without a doubt, that I would not be the woman I am today if my story had played out my way, and Christy feels the same. Yes, we both desire to be married, but we can not live our lives waiting for that to happen or settle for anything less than His best. Our hope is, with each day the Lord gifts to us, that we would seek after Him and serve Him with all of who we are, no matter what the journey looks like down the road- single, married, mom, etc. 

For many of you reading, I know there are parts of your story you don't understand, want to fast forward past, or completely erase altogether. I get it. Know that your story is not on accident. Your story matters and I can't say that enough. I would love to hear your story and know how I can support and pray for you. You are not alone. You are heard, seen, and dearly loved.

The Gift of "Motherhood"

Mother's Day is one that always brings a mixture of emotions- gratitude, joy, longing, hurt, disappointment, love, hope, and so many more. I have spent the past couple of days trying to process how I will put it all into words, and I am not sure it is possible.

As someone that grew up with a baby doll and diaper bag everywhere I went, carting my sweet baby neighbor around on my hip at the age of 9, playing with all the younger neighborhood kiddos as often as possible, deciding I was going to have 4 kids- 3 boys and 1 girl, all with "C" names- by the time I was in middle school, and dreaming of that day I would become a mother for as long as I can remember, I never thought I would be spending Mother's Day in my mid-30s without being a mother to my children of my own. But, here I am.

Each year as this day rolls around, I wonder why this is not part of my story, and with each year that passes, I wonder if it ever will. Over the last couple of years, I have/ continue to wrestle through those questions. And as I have gotten older, I wonder what I would do at this point if it does happen. For those that know me well, you know my love for sleep and free schedules. I have come to learn and appreciate how my plans can not compete with the plans the Lord has for me.

The Lord placed a love for children on my heart from the very start. That has not and will not ever change. I also know the Lord is fully aware of the fact that I do not have children of my own. I know He sees me. I know He hears me. I know He has plans for me. And I know He has allowed me to walk along side so many incredible mothers in my life who have allowed me to love on and cherish her children in a way that I will always treasure- as Aunt Rach, "second" mom, Ms. Rachel, teacher, friend, sister.

Kathryn (sister) and Marlo (sister-in-law)- you ladies mean more to me than you know. It is truly an honor to watch you mother my sweet nieces, nephew, and little Wyatt coming soon. Being an aunt has brought a joy in my life that I did not know existed and I know not all aunts get the pleasure of loving on her nieces and nephews like you have given me the opportunity to do. Thank you for giving me the gift of being Aunt Rach and allowing me to love Emily, Allison, Madelyn, Noah, and Wyatt like my own.

For those of you that have shared your babies with me, thank you does quite communicate what I would like to say to you. You have given me the gift of "motherhood" that I always desired. You have allowed me to love on your babies when they were hurting, laugh with them through the funny moments, share in the joy of "firsts" along the way, encourage them to keep going, cheer for them in their games, competitions, and academics, and simply enjoy the day to day. You share your greatest joy and treasure with me each day and for that I am beyond grateful.

God continues to fulfill that desire to be a mother in ways I could have never pictured as a young lady dreaming of being called mom. I am often asked if I want children of my own. Until last year my answer was always, "ABSOLUTELY." And while my answer is still, "I would love to be a mom..." it now includes "if that is what the Lord has for me. If not, I have many children in my life to love on and pour into."

For many of you reading, I know you relate to what I am saying. I have sat across from you or on the phone with you as you have shared your tears, hurts, and disappointments. For some, you sit in a similar position as I do with a desire to be a wife and mom. For some, you are married and either struggling to have children or at a point where having children of your own may no longer be possible. For others, your story may be one filled with infertility, losing a child, or even experiencing a strained relationship with a child. I don't know what your story holds, but I know your story matters. You are heard. You are seen. You are loved.

To all the moms in my life, you are amazing. Thank you for all you do as you raise up your sweet boys and girls. To all the aunts, friends, teachers, care-givers, sisters- you are just as amazing. The love you give to the children around you is a love that will encourage, lift up, and shape them each step of the way.

That's Not What I Saw

You are probably well aware of the scene and have one similar every morning at your house. You're bopping around, making yourself presentable for being out in public. You've considered your outfit and often tried on a couple of items in an attempt to make the best decision for the day and your comfort. Then there's the hair, the make-up, and the accessories. You do a double-take one last time in the mirror and, on a really good day you think, Yep, this looks cute. On a not so great day, it may be more like, Well, this will just have to do. And you're out the door ready to get on with your day.

Until you get into the sunlight and you notice that things were not quite the way you saw it in the mirror just before you left. As a single lady without someone to check my outfit and appearance before leaving (I realize this could be a good thing and think about things my students used to say about whatever I was wearing. Kids and their brutal honesty make me laugh), this has now happened twice in a matter of days.

Take 1: I was off to run errands with a friend and made the dreaded mistake of looking in the mirror in my car. Ladies, I am sure you can attest to the fact that this is never, NEVER, a good idea, especially on a sunny day. It was in that moment I realized my eyebrows had taken over my face. Literally. Imagine, the start of a Chia Pet. As I searched frantically for my tweezers, I began to wonder how my friends hadn't clued me in on this lovely growth, but that is for another day. It then dawned on me my tweezers were in my mother's car because I was afraid they would be considered a weapon as I went through security at the airport. We all know how pricey a good pair of tweezers can be. Off I went, furry face and all. 

Take 2: This morning, I decided on one of my new dresses from Loft. Dresses and leggings always prove to be comfortable and cute. In my last check before leaving, I was pleased with my outfit and was ready to go. All was great in my not-so-awesome lighting in my apartment. In the sunlight, not so much. What I saw as black in my dress was actually navy. This doesn't prove to be a problem unless you are wearing black leggings and black shoes, of course. I sat in the car and debated on going back upstairs to change. No leggings would have been an option if I had taken the time to shave my legs but I hadn't. Changing altogether involves thought and ironing. Off I went, not matching and all, thankful I would be working in lighting that might hide my mismatched selection. 

Funny, how when we take a closer look at things by just walking into the light, we see something we may not have seen before. This can go either way. Things can look better or not seem so heavy as they did in the darkness. Or what we thought looked pretty good, has some parts that aren't so pretty. I know for me, if I find that I want to hide something- often the stories of shame and unworthiness I have created in my head or sin I just don't want to let go of yet, then I need to bring it to the light. 

There's something freeing in the light. Scripture is filled with references of Jesus being the light in the darkness and turning our darkness into light. Something happens when we are able to see things clearly. Stories of shame and unworthiness seem like absolute truth until I speak them to a close friend and voice them to God. What once felt like truth becomes exposed as a lie, losing its power to hold me captive in the darkness. I have also found myself justifying sins not yet exposed and giving myself excuses for why it was okay... Until it is brought into the open. Then, it is exposed for what it is and whatever justification was once bouncing around in my head, no longer seems like a good excuse. I am beyond grateful for friends that sit, listen, and pray as I have cried and shared my darkness with them. These friends lovingly guide me back to truth through His word and continually shine light into my life. 

The lyrics to "Great Are You Lord" by All Sons and Daughters gets me every time. God gives life. He gives love. He gives light to my darkness. 

I am not sure where you might be today. Maybe you find yourself holding something into the dark for fear others will look at you differently or fear that you know you will need to make changes. I have been in both places. But, I can tell you there is light in the darkness and the light brings about a freedom to be just me, without the lies I tell myself. Maybe you're walking through the darkness with a friend. Keep walking. They need you. Or maybe, you just realized you need to go take care of your eyebrows. Wherever you find yourself, know you aren't alone, darkness doesn't win, and tweezers can work wonders.

And, if I text you a picture of my outfit asking for a second look, please help a sister out and be honest.