Christmas Disappointment

 Three flight cancellations. Four days at my house instead of home with my family.

I cried. Hard.

I scoured online as my family sent me dozens of different options and solutions. I finally realized that due to my limited finances and inability to drive through the night by myself, I would have to settle with my new flight date - four days after Christmas.

My stomach was growling and diner breakfast and coffee sounded delicious.  I dried my tears and tried to have a good attitude.

The diner was closed. Of course. And at that moment I lost all of my desire to be happy.

The emotions I felt were so strong. I couldn't smile. I didn't want to. Slow drivers ticked me off and I felt like swearing. I hadn't been this disappointed in a really long time. I didn't want anyone to tell me it would work out. I didn't want to see anyone.

I walked through Costco (trying to console myself with frozen pizza and Siete Cinnamon Churros) and pretty much scowled at anyone in my way. I felt like cutting off every cart, and I almost did. Family's together made me angry that I was separate from mine.

I pretty much growled at the perky Chick-fil-a drive-thru chap and they should thank their lucky stars that they didn't ask me how I was doing... they would've gotten my entire sob story.

I didn't want anyones solutions or well-wishes. I wanted to be miserable. And that is about the opposite of me as I could be.

Several hours have transpired since this morning and I have now learned so much about life. These next few points are for me. For me to remember for others and myself in the future.

Irritated people might just have a good reason to be irritated - give a little grace.

Offering solutions when someone is upset is not often the most helpful thing to do - show up and shut up.

"If you choose you've chosen" - don't blame Southwest for weather + that you live 1,200 miles from home.

Jirah: God is Enough

 I sat down in the row at church feeling heavy.  It was a hard weekend. 
More tears than smiles.

Then the message came, more truth than... well, it was all truth. 

I fought the truth hard, tried to make myself the exception. But the thing I've noticed in my relationship with God, when I wrestle with Him He always wins. But the wrestle is needed, because I refuse to have blind faith. I refuse to just say that "God is good" unless I actually and truly believe it. This morning I doubted and I shared my doubt with God Himself. I worshiped anyway because I know that what is true has not to do just with what I feel. So I searched through the fear and the doubt and proclaimed truth. Or maybe I listened to the truth being sung all around me even if I couldn't say the words myself.

I was driving home reflecting on the truth that was preached. God Provides. Everything, always.

Do I believe that? This past weekend, if I'm going to be honest was really hard especially as a single girl. More tears than smiles.

A country song was playing on the radio Buy Dirt and as I was listening I began to think of a slideshow I would create should I find someone someday (dreaming of a cute little farm-ette with a couple babies - just keeping it real, my friends). Journeying together with someone through the highs and lows of life. Then I stopped right there.

Why wait? 

Why wait to make the slideshow. God provides right now, not just if I was to someday find a man.

I began to think of the photos that would make up this last year, proof that my Jesus provides. This reel was born out of that.

Jehovah Jirah: God Provides, God is enough. 

For me. Right now.

Tonight the tears may flow again. But I am learning to embrace the idea that I can feel both joy and contentment AND sadness and longing at the same time. 

Right in the middle of all those feelings is Jesus - promising to be enough for me. Promising to provide. For me.

In your life right now what is proof that God provides? I challenge you, make this quick reel - just 27 photos. Married, single, somewhere in-between or nowhere close, focus for a few moments on Jirah. 

My Hands

Hands. I took them for granted for a full 30 years.

I need them to pour water, unscrew my toothpaste, grasp my crochet needle and to give a firm handshake.

For six months I woke up with pain shooting through my knuckles and left wrist. I pretended it didn't exist. As I winced slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I told myself that surely it was something weird and would go away soon.

Nope.

After a foot surgery to remove a mass and foot discomfort, my doctor recommended I see a rheumatologist. I balked at the idea. I'm just thirty years old, active, fairly healthy and always had control over my body.

My roommate encouraged me to keep the appointment the doctor had scheduled. The specialist ordered blood work and confirmed my fears - I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. I didn't know what that meant. But a quick google search revealed that I had an auto immune disease. The worst part; I couldn't make it go away. Yes, I'm learning there are ways to manage the pain, address the inflammation, but that's different.

This is the beginning of a journey I wish I didn't have to travel. Sometimes my heart is at peace, other times I'm angry at God. There are days where I love the challenge of tackling this from a functional medicine perspective and other days where I just want the pain to be gone. 

Pouring water, unscrewing my toothpaste, crocheting, now these basic activities aren't without pain. I'm hoping it'll get better. I'm actively working with a doctor. I pray for healing. But I have to be ok with this. I have to learn to trust my Jesus in a whole new way. 

I'm still learning, but I have a patient Teacher.

Today death stings, but it won't always.

I feel such sadness. I feel such joy.

My heart wants to break, my heart wants to sing.

My dad always says "pain and happiness run on parallel tracks and often arrive at the same time." My heart feels this ,and then doesn't know what to feel.

Actually no, my heart knows what to feel but my mind often tries to tell my heart that it can't dwell on joy and pain simultaneously. I try to justify the pain while also avoiding the joy.

Jesus wept fully knowing eternity.

My heart is rooted in truth, that I know for sure. To allow my heart to be sad is not negating truth, but rather its allowing my heart to stay soft in order for the truth to stay firm. If I ignore the pain I allow what is a real emotion to go unaddressed. And in my experience pain left alone builds to bitterness, resentment and doubt. 

My sister put it beautifully.

"Having days to reflect on the pain is important. Taking time to remember the goodness of God in the midst of difficult moments is biblical."

Today I will not wallow, but I will lament. 

I will always remember to never forget. #13years #AHB

Grandpa

It has been a wish of mine for my grandpa to hold my baby in his arms and pray.

I love when my grandpa prays. It's like heaven bends down. His faith shines strong and mine grows.

Now he's with Jesus. No need for prayers.

I lament not hearing his spoken prayers over my life and those that would maybe belong to me. But then I was reminded that those prayers were already spoken. My grandpa prayed in faith. My grandpa prayed for me by name and and for my children, because God already knows their names (or if they'll ever even be).

What hope I have because of faith. Because of heaven. Because of prayers of years past to be fulfilled in years to come.

My heart finds comfort.

I'm sure that Jesus seated my grandpa right next to the heroes of old. Pretty sure he couldn't grow a beard, and he may not have slain a giant or seen walls fall, but my grandpa lived by faith and went to battle every single day on his knees.

Grandpa had the kind of faith that slays sin. The kind of faith that watches walls of bitterness crumble. The kind of faith that carries a man through life and straight into the presence of God.

xoxo, Grandpa, I miss you, but not forever.

New Year, New Goals

We ordered coffee. We plopped our backpacks on the ground. 
We settled in for our first Jessica + Anna Goal Chat. 

(her name isn't Jessica, it's just my nickname)

Jessie, her real name, asked lots of questions.  She pulled out her notebook and began to jot down my theme, dreams and plans or the lack of plan. I had already set goals for the new year and was on-track with systems to keep them. But two things stood out that were too overwhelming for me to tackle on my own.

Education.

Housing.

Formal education or self-education. For the last ten years I've had this question spinning through my brain. Several times I thought I would enroll in classes. I've done some research, but mostly it was overwhelming. I made college accounts and began to talk to people, applied for government aid and about submitted an application. This year was the closest I've been yet. But I just couldn't make the final step jsut yet.

I have wondered if it was just fear of the unknown, not wanting debt, the giving up of my schedule. I've tried to be open and not just pretend that it wasn't myself getting in the way of formal education. But I don't think it is. I will tackle the hard when I know it's my next step. I thrive in the discomfort of the unknown. This is different. 

So we came up with a plan. Formal education may be in my near future. It might not be. But regardless, I'm not standing still. I've got purposeful action steps that will lead me in the direction that I feel God has created me for.

I'm excited.

Mostly excited for more goal sessions with my favorite Jessica.

But also for the unknowns that I know God has a hold of.