Abandon

This is going to be one of those blogs where you, as my lovely readers, get another look into my lovely twisted world. I've been doing a lot of thinking, praying and living lately, and from it, I've drawn a few conclusions.

When I was a little kid, I thought I had the perfect family. I had two parents who, to the outside world, seemed perfect for each other. I had one older brother, Nicholas who was old enough to have his own friends and hobbies, but we had our secret bonding moments. And I had a grandma who lived with us who was my favorite person in the world. When I was 10, two days before Halloween, my grandma went home to be with Jesus. I smile while I type that, because she was the sweetest, and the sassiest lady you'd ever know. Haha. She shaped a lot of who I turned into today, and she loved Jesus. But because she was so important in my life, when she died, I was heartbroken. I didn't understand that I could see her again one day.

Less than a year later, my parents were divorcing. My dad had found someone that he loved more than my mom, and that left my mom and I to fend for ourselves for the first time ever. We managed to get it together, but for a long time I didn't like my dad. I didn't want to be around him. I didn't even want to see him, because I just couldn't understand how someone could do that to their family after all the time and memories we'd had. My brother went off to school in Arizona, and I felt even more alone.

My mom ended up putting me into therapy. I didn't really enjoy going. I would play monopoly, and the therapist would ask me probing questions. Then there was that day where the big revelation happened. There always is one when you go to the type of therapist I did I guess. We figured out that I was scared that my mom would leave me. THAT was why I was letting my grades suffer, and my attitude to become snotty. I got some reassurance once we figured out what the problem was, and I felt better.

Years went by.

My mom met a man named Dick, whom she liked very much, and eventually decided to marry. Without going into a long, sorted story, he caused some initial friction for me. He wasn't my favorite to put it lightly. Anyway, I moved in with my dad and Kathleen hoping that would repair the now-strained relationship with my mom. It didn't right away, and I began to feel like she chose Dick over me. It wasn't the most logical decision, but that's what I thought when I was 16. (Things have vastly improved, but that's not relevant for this post)

Fast forward a few years. My dad's girlfriend, Kathleen, began to tell me things like "I thought I was done raising kids", and complaining to my dad about my lack of curfew or my choice in friends. Looking back, she was 100% correct, but when I was 17, 18, 19, 20... I didn't think that way. I thought she was just hassling me. Then, one night, my dad came into my room, shut the door, and kneeled to that his forearms were on the bed, almost like a prayer pose. He told me that Kathleen thought it would be best if I moved back over to my mom's. She had decided that she was done raising kids when my 3 step-sisters had all moved out years before. I cried for days.

I finally got it together enough to move over to my mom's house. It was better over there, but not the ideal set up for me.Then, as most of my readers know, my dad got sick, and to make a long story short, went home to be with Jesus. He had become my very best friend, and it was an unbelievable blow to my life. I had honestly never thought of what my life would be like without him. You know what I mean? It's not what someone who's 21 thinks about. His absence in my day to day life was like a slap in the face. After that, things improved at home. It was strange, but because Dick's dad had died, there was almost this...kinship. It was strange, but in a weird way, it was comforting. I've never told him that. Maybe someday I will. Haha. Anywho. Another year goes by. My mom takes me to breakfast one day, at Denny's, and in the nicest way possible (and I mean that) tells me that she and Dick though it would be better if I found somewhere else to live. I was old enough to know that me living there caused strain, but in the moment she told me, it was like a slap in the face. It felt like she was choosing him all over again.

So, I moved in with Lauren, a girl in my bible study group at my church, and one of my really good friends. I loved it.

Then Matthew, the man I'd been dating for over a year left on a mission trip to Taiwan. We had broken up like 2 months before he left, but being a typical girl, I was holding out hope that we'd have a "movie moment", and realize we were perfect for each other. This is where the point of this entire blog comes together, folks. I had a major revelation that I have abandonment issues. It's something that I've been thinking about for a while, but after tons of thought and countless minutes of prayer, I've decided it's the truth. Everyone had their stories, and I know that people come and go, but I tend to focus on the negative, and lately I've been focusing on how many people have "left" me in my life.

Yesterday, Matthew and I had a big-time conversation about "us". We aren't together, but a LOT of people have been asking if we are going to get back together, so we figured we should see where the other person was, and decide. We both are in the same place. Friends. Good friends, but just friends. And while that makes me a little bit sad, but if I'm being honest, I feel a definite peace about it. I KNOW it's the right decision.

How does this relate to my blog entry tonight, you ask?

Well, my stupid human heart is convincing my brain that "it's happening again". Someone else is leaving my life, never to return. It sort of makes me laugh, because it's almost like I can feel it happening inside of me. What my weak little human heart doesn't know is that my faith in God has never, and I mean NEVER been stronger than it is right now.

So, bring it on. Bring on the confusion, the longing, the feelings of abandonment, and the sadness, because I have a God that can get me through anything. There's that old saying, "God will never give you anything that you can't handle"... Well, I don't believe that's true. I believe He's going to give you PLENTY that you can't handle... But it's your job, dear reader, to cling to Him, stay in His word, stay connected to fellow believers, and that, friends, is what'll get you through the crap of life.So, tonight, sitting in this Starbucks, I feel at peace, because I have a God who can do anything. I have a God who never abandons ANYONE, ever. And I have a God, that when the stupid devil is trying to weasle his way into my weak heart, says "COME AT ME BRO."

Grace be with you.

Glorieta

Last night I posted a blog about Glorieta, New Mexico.

I had dinner with my mom last night, and she expressed concern in me going to camp this year. I will have to take off a week of work (which I've already done), and I'd be missing out on making that money that week. I understand all of this. But last night, I was trying to explain to her why camp was so important, and I just couldn't. You, as my readers, know that sometimes I have trouble using my words. Sometimes when I get upset about something, my mouth shuts down. I can't say the things I want to.

So, here I am to type out why Glorieta is so important to me.

It's hard to put into words what happens at camp. It's hard to describe the feeling you get when you step off of the bus into this world in the mountains of New Mexico. You step out, and immediately you're surrounded by pine and aspen trees. The rustling of the leaves, and the lapping of the water down by the lake has this calming effect. The first night of chapel is always filled with excitement. Everyone's meeting new people, and they're preparing their hearts and minds for a week filled with Jesus. The announcer gets up and welcomes us to college camp twenty whatever, and everyone yells out with tangible excitement. The worship team comes on, and everyone stands to sing their hearts out.

As the week goes on, the worship is one of my favorite parts, because it's one of the bonding experiences. While at camp, God is going to slap you in the face and work on your heart. Everyone comes there with things on their minds, their own issues. And almost everyone has that one night where it finally hits them. It'll be a speaker, or a song, or a devotional. Something will click, and it can get emotional. When that happens in worship, at least in my experience, it's intense.

It's the moment when you sit down during a song, because you feel so completely humbled. It's that moment where you put your head down into your hands, and just keep praying for guidance, peace, or whatever God-given gift you need. But then you feel a hand on your shoulder or on your back, or sometimes both. The people around you, people you may not have known a week prior, are there with you through one of the most intense moment of your life. I've been to camp twice now, and it's more intense every time.

That's why camp, to me, is amazing. That is why Glorieta is my favorite place I've ever been.

Yes, the scenery is amazing. Yes, the classes are awesome and informative, and they definitely help prepare us to go back into our worldly lives with new tools and outlooks. And yes, hanging out with friends, and meeting new people is fun.

But that's not why I go.

I go to experience God in a new way.

I go to rejuvenate, refresh and reconnect.

That's Glorieta for me.

I couldn't put it into words last night. But I think this does it justice.

Constant

There's quite a bit happening in my world right now. I was talking through things with one of my friends, and we came to the conclusion that no matter what I'm going through now, it's DEFINITELY not the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Right? Right.

There are times in life when things don't go the way you want them to. Sometimes you're disappointed by people in your life. Sometimes by the world around you. Sometimes just by the situations life throws at you.

Our lives aren't always constant, especially at 23. Jobs change. Friends change. Family changes. We change.

But there is one thing in this world that's constant.

God.

God is constant.

He is the one person who'll be there even in your darkest moments. He is the one person who'll be there even when you knowingly make lousy decisions. He is the person who'll always be there, even when if you decide you don't want Him to be. He won't leave your side. He's always listening. He'll always give you an answer, even if it isn't the answer you want!

When life is a roller coaster of ups and downs, and twists and turns, He's there.

Don't forget that.

Grace be with you.

Godly man.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want in my future husband. It's one of those things that all girls think about, but lately it's something that's been weighing on my mind.

I haven't always made the greatest choices when it came to those I chose to date. I dated a slew of guys that were, as we in the church community call, worldly. We didn't have Jesus at the center of our relationships. We didn't invest in each other in any sort of deep way. They were fairly superficial, surface type relationships. We didn't grow together. You know what I mean?

Anyway. I've been thinking a lot lately and re-evaluating what I want and what God wants for me. The most important of which is to have a Christ-centered relationship. I've learned in recent years that dating a guy who loves Jesus is a must, but to have a Christ-centered relationship is something completely different.

So far I've decided the following...

Keeping Jesus as my number one, and making sure it stays that way. It's so easy to start to idolize the person I'm with, to make them more important that spending time with the one who loves me more than life itself. And that can not happen. Even when I've dated a fellow believer, it happens. The Enemy can sneak it into even the best relationship.

Make sure I am doing my quiet times every single day, no excuses, and keeping the my godly-guy accountable for doing his. I have a lousy track record when it comes to quiet times. I am the very first one to say, well, I need to do this and this and this, so I'll do my quiet time later. Then, of course, it never gets done. This will happen for days in a row, and then the next thing I know it's been a week or two or more. It's a daily struggle for me.

The physical aspect of relationships is hard for me too. I've had some rough things happen in my life, and I've also not always made the best choices in this department, but it's definitely something that important to me now. This is something that hits my heart pretty hard. I had someone tell me the other day, though we weren't talking about me, that it's severely hypocritical to be having a physical relationship with the person your dating, and then turn right around and teach younger generations to honor God and save themselves for marriage. And you know what? The person that told me this was 100% correct! Think about this the next time this particular temptation arises. Is it worth being a hypocrite?

I am not writing this blog to convict anyone in particular. It's things that have been on my mind a bunch lately, and since this is my free space to put my opinions out into the void for my readers, I wrote this.

Convicted.

Rededicated.

Grace be with you.

Cole

This week, at work, I taught a classroom full of three and four-yea-olds. There was a little boy in my class, named Cole. He's four, and he is the sweetest little boy you'll ever meet. He loves to chat about the most random topics, but this week, something happened that got me thinking. Cole came over and told me that another boy in our class wouldn't share a toy with him. I knew that this other little boy had just gotten the toy, so I told Cole to go over there and talk to him about it. One of our key phrases we try to teach the kids at our preschool is to "use your words". Well, Cole walks over to this other little boy, and says "Ms. Whitney said that we have to share, so give it to me", and he took the toy right out of the other boy's hand. He turned to look at me, and I, of course, made him give the toy back.

This got me thinking.

(It's funny how the everyday adventures of a four-year-old can make you have mini-revelations about yourself)

I don't really remember when it all started. It's most vivid in high school, when I was living with my dad and his girlfriend Kathleen. Kathleen was a "note-writer". If she wanted to get something off her chest, pass along information, or just generally let something be known, she would write a note and leave it in a specific spot on our kitchen island. If we wanted to say something to her in response to her notes, we were to write a note, and leave it on her laptop at the other end of the kitchen. She worked odd hours, and this was the easiest way to converse. What I didn't know at the time, and what I didn't realize until just in the past 2 years or so, was that it's because of this that I don't know how to use my words.

During those all-important teenage years, where one is supposed to be taught to have adult conversations, piece together thoughts and voice them, I was being shown to write notes.I like to think of myself as a decent blogger. I enjoy writing, and even though I'm sure that no ones truly cares about my writings the way I do, I enjoy doing it, and I feel like I can express anything with a keyboard. (Hence the title of my blog)But if someone comes up to me and wants to talk something out, something serious, something more than just idle chit chat, I get nervous. I lose my words. I literally just can't say anything at all. My mind will race with answers to their questions, solutions for their problems, or sassy comments for their stories, but my mouth just won't work.

A few weeks ago, I was at the park with a group of friends, and one of them asked to talk to me privately. He and another friend pulled me aside to tell me that they think I've been leaving people out of our group events, purposely not inviting people that I don't like. This is a false statement. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that I froze. They were sitting there telling me these things, and my speech capability just dissipated. I let them finish what they had to say, one of them said "are we good?", and I answered with a nod and walked away. OF COURSE we weren't good, but what was I going to do? Stand there stammering like an idiot? Heck no! So I walked away angry with myself. I didn't use my words, and it was unbelievably frustrating for me.

This has been happening more and more in my life in recent years, and it's something I've been working on.I'm not sure how to make it better. I have plenty to say, obviously my blog are mini-novels, but I lack the emotional strength to actually say the things that need to be said.

There really wasn't a point for this blog. It was just to let you, as the reader, into my world a little bit more.

Grace be with you.