Tag: friends

Thank You, Next

 

Laughing at how funny we are
Cory and i
Facetime with Nat 🙂
Violet, Ruby and I
That jacket though
Yeah…
Bowling and being awkward
Cheese balls!
Ummm
Facetime with the big sis
Capitol Tour with the fam
Speaking on a panel in Moscow, Russia
Blue lights. Enough said.
Fries and Ranch with Liv

“I find it interesting that this has been one of the best years of my career and the worst of my life,” Grande said. “A lot of people would look at someone in my position right now as an artist that could be at her peak and think, ‘She’s really got her sh** together, she’s really on it. She’s got it all.’ And I do, but as far as my personal life goes, I really have no idea what[…]I’m doing[…]and as of late I’ve discovered that it’s the things I’ve always had and the people I’ve always had that still make me the happiest.”

A year ago, I graduated from college. I got a new job. I moved almost a thousand miles away. I learned how to be an adult. I experienced so much love counteracted by heartbreak, grief and loneliness. I went to a foreign country for the first time. I planned a global conference. I’ve helped different families in minor or significant ways in over 80 different countries.

It’s been a crazy year.

In the midst of all those changes and challenges were a lot of tears. I learned a lot about me, and yet still know nothing at all.

Tears fell as I sat in my room a couple nights before my graduation as I stared at the cap and gown waiting to be worn across a platform to accept my degree.

Tears were shed on the interstate from Iowa to Virginia in my car full of all my belongings.

Tears spilled in the hall as the background echoed cheers at the close of the last session in Moscow, Russia.

Tears fell on a plane bound home to Iowa for a couple of weeks – a girl who once believed that heartbreak was purely metaphorical, found out it was actually quite physical and yet could only be healed by time and patience.

2018 showed me I am a constant work in progress, but aren’t we all?

Most importantly – I have learned to forgive. I learned to forgive others, myself and to accept the forgiveness Christ so freely offers me.

I have learned so much this year about love and forgiveness through my broken experiences. As Matt Heard said “The worst kind of pain is wasted pain”. So will I use my brokenness to push me into the next stage of life and grow me spiritually, mentally and emotionally and make me wiser? Or will I waste the pain and have it hinder my growth? Will it harden or strengthen my heart? Can I trust God to redeem my pain?

I settle my heart down and let the pain in. I will cast all my anxieties upon Him because He cares for me. He will lead me beside the still waters. He will restore my soul. He will lead me down a path of righteousness, but also a path of joy and peace.

Psalms 34:18 says:

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit”

This year taught me love, patience and pain, but it also taught me how to understand and sympathize, it taught what it truly means to be selfless, but it also taught me how important it is to take care of myself – to take my God-sized needs to Christ, that in order to be a source of life, I need to have Jesus be my source of life first.

On the days that I couldn’t get out of bed, something so simple my sister said has stuck with me since “sometimes you have to do what is good for you, not what you want to do”.

I repeat these words on the many days I don’t want to work out. On the days I don’t want to leave my bed. On the days that I don’t want to eat a certain way. On the Sundays when I don’t feel like going to church. When I fall into my hermit-like tendencies. When praying is hard. When reading my Bible is about as unappealing as carrots (I greatly dislike carrots by the way).

In more ways than one I see how God interwove that theme into my life this year. Jesus saying “Sometimes I have to do what is good for you, not what you want me to.”

As Jeremiah 29:11 says:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

So thank you 2018; for all that you offered and took away; for all the people that came and went – and most importantly, to those I’ve always had and will never leave. 2018 made me realize that the people I have always had – are the ones that make me the happiest still and you can see some of them pictured above. I love these people. So much.

2019 is whispering on the threshold “it will be happier” as Tennyson says but I think I like T.S. Eliot’s quote better:

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”

So thank you 2018.

Thank you, next.

Home Isn’t A Place

Touching down in the middle of a corn field is kind of peculiar sight, but if your in Iowa…it’s normal.

Home. I felt my heart ease into a strange rhythm of familiarity. So strange how easy it is go back to “normal” after being away for so many months and literally having been out of the country and back.

Home isn’t a place, it’s where your heart is tide too. My family. My friends. They are pieces of my heart running around. Now that my two best friends no longer live in Iowa, it’s more sad to go back, but my family is still there.

Iowa is just full of corn, but if you lived here your entire life you would find more to do than just starring at a cornfield across the road from your house. People who ask me what ones does in Iowa; I wouldn’t know. If your used to being bored, you find ways to entertain yourself.

My friends and I  jokingly dubbed ourselves the Queens of our small town…little did we know that a year later, neither of us would be around to reign over our metaphorical subjects.

As heartbreaking as it may seem…there is a happiness about it. A happiness that we can say later on in life as we all have careers and six digit salaries “remember when we all were poor and worked at the Cheese House together that entire summer?” or “Remember the late night runs to Village Inn?” and all the other crazy road trips and laughing until we couldn’t breathe.

I miss those days.

I don’t want to relive my life though. It would be nice to stop in once in a while. It would be nice to meet up at the corner near my house to drive into the city. It would be nice to get up early for church and eat at our favorite diner. It would be nice some days to hear Dad shuffling around upstairs on a Saturday morning. It would be nice to always find someone to hug in the house, especially Mom.

Those were the days.

But these are the days now.

Sitting in my office, I’ll suddenly have this out of body experience of wondering “Why am I here? Where do I belong?”

Thinking back on the last 10 years of my life. Back when I was 13 and constantly feeling a push to go forward. Now I just want to step back.

All of a sudden all the things I have accomplished and gone through in life will melt into these series of flashbacks. As epic as it sounds…

It makes me sad, nostalgic and lonely.

Lonely for the people who were there along the way; sad at the goodbyes to the people who came and went so suddenly, and then missing the ones that are still by my side though they are a thousand miles away.

Home isn’t a place…and yet it’s a place we are constantly longing for.

But until we get to Heaven, the longing will never cease. Can you imagine, being in a room full of faces you love and cherish? We get a taste of that every once in a while, but it brings tears to my eyes when I think how Heaven will never have loneliness, heartbreak or regrets. It will be full of those people who pointed you to Christ with how they loved you.

We see in a mirror dimly now, but when we get to Heaven, we will be fully known. We will see Christ face to face. That separation will no longer pine at us.

But today I will sit in my office and go through the motions of today, and constantly seek to do what God is calling me to be. Though my questions will sometimes raise to “why am I here? What am I doing?”, God has this amazing story for my life, and though I can only see through it dimly, and sometimes not at all when it is darkened with my confusion, grief and loneliness; I’ll trust His plans are far better than my own.