An Open Door

Sometimes seasons are easy to pick out: A year-long Bible study. A friendship during a specific part of life. A time of growth and hardship. Knowing that the seasons are temporary, we can remain open and soft and learn as much as possible.

Other seasons are harder to pick out. Things that we think could be permanent- and wish would be permanent- we feel shifting and changing. We can fight against the change, clinging to the present, or accept it and allow God to work. 

If you go back and read blog posts from the past few years, the next season of my life will not be a surprise. Two years ago, I felt a very strong call from God to get involved with foster care. He showed me the role that sacrifice has in new life. "Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds." This sacrifice came in the form of being willing to commit; be tied down; let roots take hold, so that I might be a family to some. 

That journey has looked very different than what I thought. I thought I was walking into a season of opening my home to teenage girls, so that's what I prepared myself for. What ended up happening was providing a room for a pregnant teen, and then a pregnant wife whose husband was in a different country, then a newly separated woman, and now a young widow who is trying to figure out her new life in Lynchburg. I could have missed those opportunities had I been glued to the thing I had pictured. But, God kept me soft and helped me through the messy times that happen when you allow God to use you in the lives of people that need love. 

I was able to afford to live on my own because I was blessed with a full-time job with a radio group. It wasn't the job I was necessarily looking for, and wasn't in the field that I had imagined I would end up in, but I was being stretched and challenged in ways that I hadn't in the past. 

Right before I got the job, I started my journey with Celebrate Recovery. It was painful, but necessary. I had been sober for a long time, but still had typical addict behaviors. I dove head-first into tackling the hurts, habits, and hang-ups that were distracting me and weighing me down. My life, while going in a good direction, lacked integrity and I often found my heart at odds with scripture. 

Digging up hurtful things proved to be challenging while working in a Christ-centered environment. In the past, I would have shut myself off to my coworkers, kept my distance, and focused on "cleaning house." But, God knew that what I needed was not to have the option to run. He knew that I would need caring coworkers that would be willing to pray and listen and show me grace while I figured out what "normal" was supposed to look like for me. It was messy and frustrating to be so exposed, but isn't that the beauty of surrender? When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable to the Lord, He lavishes His incomparable grace on us so that we can endure the discomfort. 

As I neared the end of the 12-step program, I found myself in a precarious place. I found myself in a season of depression- a harsh winter. I was searching for clarity and listening intently to God's voice. I felt alone, but on the cusp of something big. Each time I cried out to God, I felt Him tell me to listen. So, I kept listening. 

And that listening has led me to this point: an open door. 

Through a series of interactions with God, I feel that the calling that God put on my life two years ago- to become a foster parent- is coming to fruition. Not exactly how I thought it would look, but all the details that I am certain of are there. One thing that God revealed during my journey through recovery is that the majority of the baggage that I acquired, and all the wrong turns that I took, started when I was a teen. What an opportunity to come alongside hurting teens and help them get the tools they need to be able to navigate the crazy adult stuff later in life!

Just a few weeks ago, when I least expected it, an opportunity to work in a girls' group home plopped in my lap. If not for the path that I was confident God was leading me down, I would have faltered. I would have hesitated and possibly missed the door. But God gave me everything I needed to confidently step into this new role that I am certain He has been preparing me for for years. 

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens." 

While I'm obviously sad to leave a job where I get to interact daily with people that have easily become family, I am excited to take this leap and pursue the passion that God has put in me. 

I appreciate your prayers as I step into this and remain soft to what God is saying. 

Spring is Here (Kind of)

Have you ever been in a forest in the winter? You can hear EVERYTHING. The crunch of your feet stepping in the snow. A tree branch collapsing under the weight of snow a mile away. A woodpecker trying to hollow out part of a tree.

But, if you stop and hold your breath you realize that there is a whole lot of silence as well.

It's almost deafening.

That has been my life the past few months. The only way I know how to describe it: a winter forest.

April, May, and June of this year were a struggle. Depression is something that I have struggled with since around age eight. It always has a way of sneaking up on me and it's usually not until the third week of me barely being able to drag my butt to work on time that I notice something is off. I have chronic mono, so sometimes I just chalk up my fatigue and pain to the mono flaring up. And sometimes it is. Other times, I can't shake it.

In April, I made the difficult decision to step down from my church's worship team. This was a decision that I didn't take lightly. But, because of my work schedule and responsibilities that I had there, I just didn't see any way around it. I felt sad, but also peace that God was going to lead me to something fruitful. Work was also just a stressful point for me. I was down two team members, and feeling pressure to find the right people to take their place. I knew God would provide in His own time, but wanted that time to be now. (Ha!)

In June, two things happened back to back. I was already planning on traveling up to Ohio to see my Nana. She and I hadn't had a relationship in years, but she was nearing the end of her life. Going through Celebrate Recovery gave me a lot of clarity and allowed me to feel brave enough to make amends with someone that I loved and respected. I wanted to make peace with her. Unfortunately, she passed away just a few days before I was able to make that trip. It was devastating to me, and I felt completely out of control. It stirred up emotions that I felt when my father suddenly passed away just a few years previous.

When I returned home from that trip, I found that the woman that had been living with me for six months had moved out without telling me. She had also stolen the rent money that was supposed to be paid to the landlord while I was gone. The breath was knocked out of me. I felt.... well... a lot of things. I was still reeling from the trip home. I immediately felt myself going to a very dark place. I needed to regain control. I needed to feel on top again. Yet, all I heard from God was to surrender to Him. "Listen to me," He said.
U
Those moments began a very dark few months. I wasn't myself. I withdrew from community. I stopped going to church. I pulled back from Celebrate Recovery. I got overwhelmed easily. I felt panic attacks creeping up on me. I started having night sweats, waking up at three or four in the morning completely drenched- even though I had two fans and the air conditioner on. I had a hard time waking up. I even started struggling with suicidal thoughts at my darkest point. And yet, I could still hear God. "Listen to me," He said.

So, I listened. I felt that whatever He had to say needed to be good. I felt desperate. I had pretty much eliminated everything from my life except work, the Literacy Board, and a handful of friends. I was smiles on the outside, but crawling with hopelessness. I didn't like who I was becoming. I so badly wanted to be healed. I worked really hard to be normal. I did laundry. I took showers. I fed my cats and changed their litterbox. I even vacuumed. I convinced myself that if I did normal things, I would go back to normal. But, nothing. I just kept getting dragged deeper into the quicksand.

This lasted about two months before I finally reached out. I talked to a friend, and to my mom. Both suggested that maybe if a doctor could prescribe me something, it might help lift the fog until I was able to process through everything. I kept praying and asking God to heal me. But all I heard from Him was, "Listen to me."

It's funny how those three words, "listen to me," seem so simple. I thought I was listening to Him. I was praying- crying out and sometimes sobbing to Him. But, after the millionth time of Him answering my prayers with His command, I finally realized that I wasn't listening at all. He wanted to me to be still. Through varying circumstances, He had allowed me to be in a very isolated place in life. And as I looked around, I realized that it was very quiet. Since I became a Christ-follower three years ago, I hadn't experienced this kind of quiet. I didn't have anywhere to go or anything to do. I could just be still. And once I really started listening, He started speaking with a clarity I hadn't experienced in a long time.

He showed me that this bareness is just a season; a winter season. It's not forever. It's not for me to be stuck in. It has a purpose. Trees need the winter to allow new growth. Spring comes every year and puts buds on the trees. The trees are so still and silent in the winter months- sometimes their branches die too and fall to the ground, rendered useless. But, the trees remain steadfast and withstand the cold. Why? Because they're so deeply rooted in the ground. Because they have everything they need to last the barren season. And they know it. The barrenness is not a source of anxiety or confusion for the trees, because they know what's coming next.

This video was such a HUGE source of encouragement to me:

That was the first encouraging thing that I heard in months.

Since then, God has only spoken more. I was at a fork in the road with Celebrate Recovery. I needed to decide if I was going to stay in CR and find a place to serve or if I was going to take the principles I learned and apply them to my life in another ministry. I felt like God was asking me to say yes to serving in The Landing, which is CR for Middle and High Schoolers.

I have worked with tiny children and adults. I've never in my life worked with teens. They terrify me. But, God has given me a love for them that I can't explain. As I worked through the steps, I realized that most of my wrong turns started in my teen years. I feel really strongly that God has me there to help give the teens the tools they need to make healthy decisions (now and later) in life.

My prayer is that even though the trees are budding, that He would continue speaking loud and clear. So, I'm making it a point to listen carefully and often to what He is saying.

Little Bird

A month ago, I was sitting up in the balcony at The Muse in Wyndhurst. I had just gotten out my paper and pen to start what would be a painful journey: taking Moral Inventory of my life. Things that I did. Things that were done against me. All of it. Written down.

To say that I was nervous and scared and not looking forward to it would be an understatement.

I started writing and was soon distracted by the overwhelming feeling that I wanted to be far away from  where I was and what I was doing. Remember Forest Gump, when Jenny prays "God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away from here?" That's what I wanted.

Then I saw something moving next to me and heard a noise. I wasn't sure what it was, but suppressed a scream as I convinced myself that whatever it was was going to surely kill me. Then it moved again. And chirped. And ran into the window.

A bird.

A tiny, brown bird.

A sparrow?

At any rate, the poor little guy was trying to escape through the window. Logic told me that it was impossible, that the little bird would never be able to fly out of the window. But, Little Bird didn't know it was a window. He could see through it. He could see trees and a street and the sky. But couldn't get through. He didn't know he was trapped. He thought he was free, but couldn't get to the actual freedom part. And couldn't figure out why.

As I sat and pondered Little Bird and his dilemma, I heard that Still Small Voice tell me, "Go help him."

"Um, no."

"Go help him."

"Birds are gross. I don't want to touch him. And I wouldn't know how to help him anyways. I tried to help many an injured animal when I was a child and they all died. Do you really want me to kill this creature?"

"Go help him."

"But I--"

"Go help him."

I realized that I wasn't going crazy. I pray and talk to God and have had God talk to me. It was possible that God, in this moment, wanted me to help this bird...... wasn't it?

I decided to go ahead and try to help the bird. I mean what's the worst that could happen? Then my mind thought of all the worst-case scenarios, which included screaming really loud if it flapped its wings in my face and embarrassing myself and  getting startled and falling over the rail of the balcony. Both were not ideal. So, I decided my plan needed to involve a "fall and scream prevention plan."

I got up.

I moved closer and closer. Slowly. So slowly that I felt like it was taking hours for me to get over to Little Bird.

When I finally got to the window he was flying through, I realized that I needed to be careful not to startle him, or he would fly up into the rafters and I would never be able to help him.

I raised my arms and inched closer and closer. Very slowly.

As I got closer, I closed my hands around him. His Little Bird Legs found my hand a few times and he chirped in a panic and tried to escape. But it was too late. I had made a cage out of my arms and my hands followed his movement. Closing in more and more.

When I finally got one hand on his body and trapped on wing, he had a full-fledged Little Bird Panic Attack. Although I was talking to him, he didn't know that I was trying to help him and was instead trying to protect himself from me.

I used my second hand to fold his free wing up close to his body. And I just held him for a second.

I turned his body so I could look him in the eye.

And that when it happened. I felt his entire body relax as he surrendered to me.

I was powerful enough that I literally could have crushed him in my hands. And he knew that. But, I was there to help him be set free. So, I just stroked his head for a moment and said, "Okay, Little Bird, let's go get freedom."

I walked carefully down the stairs and noticed for the first time that the entire cafe was silent. They were all watching me and Little Bird.

I shook off my embarrassment and made it to the door. I released my grip on Little Bird and he paused for a second before flying out of my hands. I haven't seen a bird happier to be free.

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I made it back up to my seat and sat down, processing what just happened and why on earth God cared so much about a bird that He told me to help it. Then I realized that I was the bird.

How many times have I thought I was free, but couldn't understand why I wasn't experiencing freedom?

How many times have I fought God, as if He hunting me down to destroy me?

How many times have I struggled against His grip before I ultimately surrendered to Him?

Freedom for the bird was something it never would have experienced on its own. It would have had to fly down in the middle of the cafe, towards people and go out a door on the complete opposite side of the building. Because of Little Bird's instinct to flee people, it never would have been able to be set free on its own. It needed help. It needed to surrender to my hand so I could free it.

I picked up my pen again a changed woman, willing to let God walk me through these extremely painful parts of my life for the sake of freedom.

Laying it Down

I am single.

I have come close to getting married, but haven't actually made it down the isle in the white dress.

I have never been a parent.

I have taken care of children, but at the end of the day I always give them back to their parents.

And yet God is asking met to step into becoming a foster parent to teenage girls.

He is asking me to lay down my independence, my "All the Single Ladies" attitude that somehow entitles me to live me life mostly for God, but still protecting this little section that is only for me. And up until now I have been able to do that with no consequence (other than a pile of laundry and boring chores that aren't getting done). Because up until now, it really didn't matter. Up until now,  I was responsible for only myself.

This part of it is scary. The season before I actually do anything. It took me a month to fill out and mail the application. But, the time is here. In a week and a half, I will begin training. I will begin the process.

I will step into the world of becoming something that I never would have thought for myself.

A single mom.

And through the fear and all the manymany question marks that float through my head, I hear this confident voice. God is saying to me, "Yes. This is the thing that you need to be pressing into. Keep moving. I will tell you what to do next."

And I read passages that guide me.  

"Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds."

In order for new life to happen, I must sacrifice. I need to lay down this life that I so pride myself in. This single life. I need to allow God access to all the areas of my life. All of them. Not just the ones that I want Him to see. But, I need to expose the hidden areas too. I need to allow Him to do a work in me so that I may die. So that I may literally lay down the life that I live in order that new life may spring up.

And as this new life springs up, God will guide me on how to love these sweet girls that just need a home, a place to be safe. A place to learn how to be loved. A place to learn how to love back.  

All this, I am willing to do because He first did that for me. It was God who first sacrificed His life for me. And after He died, He adopted me. He took me into His fold and has been teaching me what it means to be safe. And what it means to be loved. And what it means to love back.

And now it's my turn to give that to someone else.

More Than a Father

I have struggled for as long as I can remember believing that I had love from a father. It's not that my father didn't love me. I believe now, as an adult, that he loved me as best as he could. There were just gaps, and unfortunately those gaps created hurt and pain. And eventually led to my belief that I did not have his love.

When I stepped into a new relationship with God last year, I finally allowed myself to be loved by my Heavenly Father. I finally allowed myself to belong. I think that at some point in time, I had given up hope that feeling cherished and cared for and pursued by a father was possible for me. Oh, how wrong I was.
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It's been two years since my father passed away. This has been a hard season of me processing through grief
and just allowing myself to feel the absence of my father, while knowing that God will use my pain for His glory and ultimately heal those areas that I allow to be exposed.

I think the biggest area that I have felt my father's absence is with my car problems. If you know me, you know all about my Jeep. You can hear it coming from down the street. It's not pretty, has had manymany issues over the years, but it has kept running.

Maybe it seems silly to you, but you have to understand that my father's love was often expressed in practical, manly ways. It never failed that I received a flashlight, fuel injector fluid and a nail/screw set for Christmas. Every. Year.

He was just the practical type. Sometimes it bothered me, but sometimes I found it endearing. He always reminded me to get my oil changed. He always bugged me to keep my car clean and checked my tire pressure. He always checked my fluid levels and kept everything topped off.
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When I returned to Virginia this summer, it was clear that my Jeep was barely hanging on. Honestly, it's been barely hanging on for the past few years. But, the noises coming from the Beast were a little alarming. So, the search started and the pennies began being saved.

Only hours after I looked at my budget and shot up a "I'm not quite sure how this is going to work out, so I really need you" prayer to God, I was contacted by a woman who told me that God had put me on her heart and she wanted me to nanny fairly regularly. When I shared with her that I had just been praying for God to provide more of an income for a car, she mentioned that they had one for sale.

It turned out that they were going to ask for about $2,000 for the car. Very reasonable, considering that it was a 2000 Camry with only 136,000 on it. But.... It would take me months to be able to afford it, and they were wanting to sell it within a month and a half. So, I just told them I would let them know, but not to hold it for me.

About a month later, I got a text from the wife. This is how it went down. God talked to her husband in his private prayer time. He told this man that I needed a new car and to sell it to me for whatever I could afford. I was blown away. I cried (obviously) and told her I would think about it. That night, I texted her the amount I could reasonably afford within the next few weeks ($800). Then she responded by dropping another $200 off the amount.

So, just to recap:

I talked to God.
God talked to the wife.
The wife called me to nanny.
I told her I needed a car (in a casual conversation).
They told me they wanted 2k for it (it was worth $2,600).
I told them I'd think about it (aka blew them off).
Time passed.
God talked to the husband (I found out this was a repeated thing until he eventually told his wife).
The husband talked to the wife.
The wife talked to me.
I calculated and told the wife (this was based on the amount i thought I could sell my Jeep for).
The wife responded by dropping more money (this, she said, was after much prayer again).

So, this whole time, I was feeling super encouraged by God. How many fathers would negotiate the price of a car down to a price that their daughter could afford? Probably tons of them. But, how many fathers would be able to negotiate the price and have it dropped from $2,600 to $600. None. That's right. None. Why? Because God is able to do so much more than our earthly fathers. It's in His nature. It's part of who He is. He is above all things. He is WAY bigger than the cost of a car.
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When I went to pay for the car and get the title signed over, I had money in the bank to pay for the car (another thing God did in an amazing way). I took my checkbook in the house and as I was writing the check out, the husband told me, "Hey, just make the check out for $1.00."

"What?"
"Yeah, just make the check out for a dollar. If that's okay. I just kept praying about it and felt like God wanted us to just give you the car."

Once I regained the ability to move, I wrote the check. I expressed my gratitude and left in shock.

Here's the thing that I didn't realize until a few days later (with the help of my mentor): God chose to give me this car at a specific time. I've needed a new car for years. I've been searching for years. I've tried to get second jobs and failed. I've begged and pleaded for help, believing that He would help me when it was the right time. But it was in this season, as I approached my father's birthday and the anniversary of our last few conversations and ultimately the anniversary of his death, that I needed my Heavenly Father the most.

It was in these moments when my heart ached and the what-ifs clouded my head that I needed to be reminded that there was a Heart to which I belonged. And that Heart would anticipate my every emotion, my every move. And those emotions and actions would be coupled with His actions of love and compassion. And I know now, two years later, that if I had never lost my father I wouldn't be able to experience God in this way. God has unveiled my eyes to show me that because my father passed away, I am able to have a unique relationship with my Heavenly Father. How amazing is that?

Love and compassion.

In a way that exceeds anything that I could ever ask Him for.

In a way that exceeds anything that I could ever imagine.

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." (Ephesians 3:20-21)

The Bully

Last week, someone was in my apartment while I was getting dressed. Every article of clothing I put on, they would comment.

"You shouldn't wear that. It makes you look fat."

"Pull your skirt down a little bit. I don't like how your knees look."

"That doesn't fit you like you used to. You shouldn't have stopped working out. Now you look frumpy and unattractive."

"That color makes your skin look weird. Why did you waste your money on that sweater?"

Finally, I was able to find an outfit that both I and this person were satisfied with.

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Then, came the hair and make-up.

"Your eyelashes are too short. You need better mascara."

"Don't wear eyeliner. You look like you're trying too hard."

"You should get those eyebrows waxed! They are SO not feminine. But, that makes sense, since you're not much of a lady."

"Dreadlocks? What were you thinking?!? That was such a mistake!"

"Your bangs look weird. You should swoop them the other way. Better yet- why do you even have bangs? They don't make you cool, just so you know..."
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Then, I looked at myself from all angles, trying to figure out what other people would think when they saw me. But, it didn't matter. The person that was standing next to me let me know what other people probably thought. It wasn't pretty.

I'll spare you this part, because it just got downright catty and nasty. And, to be honest, I don't really feel like reliving that on my blog.

I never stood up for myself. I never talked back. I just listened and accepted their words. I felt defeated and hurt; scarred and slightly humiliated. I can't explain why I never stood up for myself. Maybe the words are too familiar. Maybe I've grown accustomed to just taking it.

When I finally got in my Jeep and the other person had strapped into the seat next to me, I was on my way. Fully insecure, fully taking in this person's words, fully believing them.

Does this make you angry? Does it upset you that I would just take it? That I would believe the toxic words? That I would let it internally affect me? That I would take their words with me, strapped to my back like a L.L. Bean school bag? That I would slowly let their words become the filter that defined how I saw myself?

Don't be mistaken: This person has been abusing me for a long time. With words. Harsh. Blunt. Cruel. No feelings spared. Crippling in most social situations.
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Now for the truth: I am this person. I am this abusive person that judges everything about myself: My laugh, my teeth, my eyelashes, my glasses, my body. Every move I make, I critique myself. Harshly. "Don't laugh that loud. You'll draw attention to yourself." "Don't slouch; it makes you look fatter." "Don't sing too loud; you're off key."

The list goes on and on. And this is what I know: I am not alone. Women and men alike. We all abuse ourselves.

I didn't realize until last week when I was having lunch with a dear friend what I do to myself. We were talking about the abusive thoughts we have about ourselves and the analogy popped into my head of being bullied.

Recently, I was bullied by a literal person. Someone who thought they knew what they were up against. There were manymanymany things I wanted to say to this person, to tear them apart verbally. Although I did say some things that I wish I could take back, the majority of what I wanted to say, I refrained. I tried to be careful with my words.

Several times, I had to stop and pray. Were my words glorifying God? Was it my place to take them down? Was it my job to seek justice? One thing was clear: it's best not to fight dirty. I kept my head high. I stood up for myself. I felt proud that I didn't dissolve into a puddle like I did when I was bullied as a child.

But, now a thought occurs to me: Why do I bully myself? Why do I quickly "Oh NO you DIDN'T" when a person verbally attacks me, but I take abuse from myself??
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I don't have all the answers. But, I do know this: God has been super intentional about showing me who I am to Him. I have been so focused on not letting other people's words affect me. Maybe it's time I started silencing the voice inside myself too. Maybe it's time to look at myself in the mirror and use God's Word to build me up, the way I would for a friend.

How does this resonate with you? Do you find yourself picking yourself apart until there's nothing left?

We're a Catch

In the last 10 or so years of my life, I have dated a good number of men. Some were mistakes. Some were good relationships that just didn't work out; they weren't meant to be.

But, here I am. 31. Still single.

I've gone "back to the drawing board" more times than I want to think about. I have reevaluated my standards and my "list" so many times that there is nothing left to examine. I have also cried and screamed and been extremely frustrated with this one thought that keeps lingering.

Why do men keep "throwing me back?"

You know those fish that people catch and deem not quality enough to keep? Because they are too small, or female instead of male or the wrong type of fish.

Thrown back.
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This all changed a few days ago.

I was having a conversation with a good married friend about dating and at the end of the conversation, he added, "You're a catch."

I thought that he was talking about a specific guy we had been discussing, so I responded, "What? He's a catch?"

"No. You're a catch."

I felt a little uncomfortable, since I can't remember a time when anyone has told me that. But, hours later, God opened my eyes and the words sunk in. What truth!! I am a catch! I am someone worth keeping. Not throwing back, but keeping.

This is true for all of us. We are all catches. We all have qualities that are worth getting to know. We all have characteristics that will benefit someone's walk with God. And while I don't believe in soul mates or "the one," I do believe that we should all be looking for someone that we feel would add to us (and us to them).
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Let this sink in: God looks at you and He sees beauty. He sees His handiwork- His craftsmanship. He sees qualities of Himself. The freckles. The curly hair. The big feet. The awkward words. The clumsy movements. The bad posture. All of it. He sees all of it, and adores every last bit. He made your body and personality and brain. And He loves it. He adores it.

The next time you have a chance, look in the mirror. And not in the hurried, I-don't-like-how-I-look glance.

Take a long look.

And remember.

You're a catch.

The One About Emotions

If you have known me for more than 5 minutes, you will probably learn without me saying anything that I am a sensitive person. I have a high level of empathy, sometimes taking on the emotions of others. I also can be affected by situations with more severity than others. And sometimes, embarassingly enough, I lose complete control of said emotions and become that person.

"That Person"

You know that person that I am talking about. That person kind of freaks out about things that maybe they don't need to freak out about. That person deals with their emotions in an unhealthy way. Sometimes drinking or overeating or punching something/someone or breaking a lamp or road raging are involved. That person needs to get a grip. On Jesus. Like, for real.

Don't miss what I'm saying. I am that person. We are all that person at some point in time. But, sometimes I feel like I am that person more often than I am a holy vessel of God.

Sometimes, I feel like I run to ice cream or an ice cold soda before I run to God.

Sometimes, I feel like I may think that I am showing people who God is when really, I am showing them who I am. You know.... that person.
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This weekend, my Grammy fell down. She shattered and dislocated her poor, 84-year-old wrist. It was so sad! While she was in surgery, I had a lot of down time. I took that time to send my friend some encouragement from a study that I did on JOY. It was like this whole intricate word/usage-in-the-Bible/how-does-it-apply-to-me study. I got a lot out of it last year when I was terribly struggling with depression. In fact, I wrote an entire series on depression. You can find it here.

As I was reading what I wrote, so much stuck out to me. Not like a memory, but like a, "I don't remember writing that, but wow, does it resonate with me now" feelings. I realized then that so much of what God has been teaching me this last year has been a build-up. He was teaching me, even when I hadn't let myself belong to Him. He was guiding me, even when He knew I wouldn't obey. He was rallying my heart for one purpose: to know Him in a deeper way.

You're probably all, "Be quiet and tell me the thing that you read!"

Okay! Stop yelling!

Ready?

Here it is:

Psalm 51:10-12

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from  your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

The Greeks feared emotions because they sought permanent balance. Hebrews take a different track. Emotions are the fodder of choice. I can let them drive me or I can coral them in the service of the King. Once, David allowed his emotions to carry him far from his King. Now, he seeks restoration and emotion is the train he rides to reach his goal.”

This is that part that gets me..."While no emotion is permanent, every emotion can draw us toward [God] or push us away. We are at liberty to choose.” (taken from http://www.skipmoen.com/)

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So, you're telling me that I in the middle of my raw emotions and freak-outs, I still have a choice what I do with those feelings? Yes.

So, if I'm depressed and I want to eat a whole container of ice cream because I feel like I deserve it, then I can stop myself before I even start? Yes.

So, if my husband/boyfriend/dad has just made me feel like crap again and all I want to do is drink, I can like.... not drink? Yes.

People, I have a choice. You have a choice. We all have a choice. And, it is possible to glorify God in the middle of what we are feeling. My friend shared with me that we can be angry/sad/depressed/etc. We are human and we have feelings. But, we (and I'm talking to myself too) need to train ourselves to stop and ask God, "What do You want me to do with this feeling?"

Believe this: He. Will. Tell. You.

He will.

He wants us to come to Him in our hour of need. He wants us to draw near to His heart. He wants us to draw from his strength and energy. He wants to fill us up so that we can handle what He has allowed in our lives.

He wants us.

He wants you.

He wants me.

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What about you? How do you deal with your emotions? Are you that person too?

Growing and Growing and Growing...

 When I moved back to Ohio a little more than a month ago, I didn't think that I would be farming. In fact, if my mom had said, "Hey! Let's dig up dirt and plant things! Then we can eat them later!" I would have laughed.

Well, I'm officially an urban farmer.

My mom had an idea to start a pallet garden, which basically means instead of tilling the ground and planting seeds, you create a series of small raised-beds from old pallets and plant your crop in the slats.

Maybe because of my love of pallets, or maybe my sudden desire to be more productive with my time, I quickly agreed and hopped on the tailwinds of her excitement.


 I collected manymany pallets (okay, like 10 or so) and we got our garden-planning-hats on. Three kinds of lettuce/leafy veggies. Two kinds of zucchini. Beans. Peas. Watermelon. Pumpkins. Tomatos. It's all happening in our backyard.

Because I have a very limited income, and wanted to help my mom be as resourceful as possible, I talked her into starting seedlings indoors in cardboard tubes. We incubated them in a clear storage container and once their roots began pushing past the bottom of the tubes, looking for more soil, I transplanted them to containers.
 I've always had a blacker-than-black thumb. Like, I would bring a plant home and it would die of fright, just knowing that I was responsible for it. I am just not good at taking care of something that can't tell me when it's hungry! Fish. Lizards. Plants. They all die.

So, I was pleasantly surprised when one, two, three then four little buds started peeking above the soil. I actually teared-up a little bit.

Once the had graduated to their containers, they really started to flourish!
 This week, we will be putting our tiny little, adorable seedlings into the ground. We have the pallets prepped with weed-control fabric to keep the soil from leaking out the bottom and sides and we are excited!

My goal is to harvest seeds from each item the plants produce. That way, we can save even more money next year!

Another project we are doing is planting a Sunflower Fort. If you have never seen one of these amazing things, check out this link. It's every country girl's dream come true! So what if I live in the city. It's happening!!!

I've felt really motivated to try to create a relaxing, refreshing backyard for my mom to enjoy. Who knows what relationships it will help build with those around us!

As I've been spending more and more time outside, I have felt myself more motivated. I've felt empowered. I feel like I'm able to do more than I've given myself credit for in the past.

I think that some women have the mindset that they are less-than. And once we meet our "other half," we are able to be productive and live full lives. I have been in that camp of people before. What I have found over the years is that I actually feel more confident when I'm single than when I'm seriously dating someone.

I'm not sure exactly why that is, and I'm not sure the "why" is important. The cool thing is that because I'm single now, I find myself pushed to accomplish things that otherwise my "other half" might do for me. And in these moments of independence, I feel strong and smart and a different kind of joy.

So over the next few months, as I establish spots of peace and tranquility here in New Rome, I am excited to see what God has for me. And my mom. And our neighbors.

For those of you who are interested in a more detailed update of what is going on here in Ohio, please email me at cardigan.sweater1@gmail.com.

Lost in Ohio

Okay, well.... I'm not really lost.

But, I have been preoccupied for the last month. Family. Unpacking. Cleaning. Organizing.

The whole nine yards.

Plus.... We don't have internet and my computer cord is busted.

So, needless to say, blogging has been a goal about halfway down a list of many goals for the near future. The list also includes (in no particular order):

- Being 100% unpacked and settled in
- Tightening up and doing some dreadlock maintenance
- Painting my bedroom furniture
- Listing my grandma's dolls on Ebay to help her sell them
- Getting our garden going (this is something that I have been actually able to work on)
- Sending letters to dear friends in VA
- Sending a postcard to the school I worked at in VA
- Helping my mom organize her house (Definitely feel like I'm living in an episode of Clean Sweep!)

And that is maybe 1/3 of it... but I will spare you :)
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Needless to say, once my computer is up and running, getting back on track with my blog will definitely be a priority. Until then, I am taking one day at a time, and enjoying the moments with my family.

**If you would like to have access to regular updates on what is going on in Ohio, please let me know and I can give you more information.**

Until next time,

Lindsay

"Beef Cows" Don't Go on Vacation... They Die

 

(Told in six scenes)

Once upon a time, I was traumatized by my mother. Well, if we're honest, I was traumatized by my mother repeatedly. Take for example when I innocently asked her what a tampon was. That conversation left me in tears and vowing never evereverevereverever to have sex. Ever. This is not that story, though. That will come at a later time, because I actually just now remembered that it even happened. And, it is quite funny. So, why not share it with the public?

This story is about how I came to know the difference between a cow raised for beef and a cows raised for milk. I am not sure the technical, rural farm terms. I just call them "Beef Cows" and "Dairy Cows." If I'm incorrect, don't judge me. If I'm right, by all means, please praise me openly in public with confetti and parades.

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Scene 1 gives some background for the typical relationship that I would have with "my" cows.

I grew up across from a cow farm. Every once in a while, I would get brave and cross our street to feed the cows a blade or two of grass. Then I would get grossed out as they cleaned out their noses with their long, slimy tongues and make a sound that was a cross between a wretch and a scream and sprint back to the safety of my yard.

I felt like me feeding the cows meant that we bonded. Sometimes the cows would go on vacation for a while, but then they always came back to eat my long blades of grass and taunt me with their booger-tongues.
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Scene 2 is a conversation with my mother.

I'm not sure what age I was when I declared to my mom that I had named one of the cows "Buster." She went along for a few moments with me. Then, she quietly told me that the cows that I grew up mooing to and feeding grass were probably not the same cows that I saw before they went on vacation.

In my innocence, I thought, "Oh, poor mom. She just doesn't know things like I do. Poor thing. I will just try to show her that they are the same cows."

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Scene 4 is my mission to inform my mom.

All the cows had tags on their ears. I knew that these were like a name-tag that you would wear on the first day of school, except at school, they didn't make you wear your name-tag as an earring.

I thought that if I could just make a cow be best friends with me, then she would see that the same cows live at the farm for always. Just like us. Except they didn't have a tree house. That would just be silly.

So, I braved crossing the street.

I went over to feed the cows a few blades of grass. I started referring to them by the numbers on their earrings.

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Scene 5 is another conversation with my mother.

Although an entire year hadn't gone by, I wanted to make sure that my mom knew that I was about to help teach her something. My mom was my mom. She was an adult. Adults don't always like it when kids tell them that they are wrong. So, I wanted to prepare her for the situation to make it less awkward. It was the right thing to do, right?

Me: "Hey, Mommy. I have something to tell you."

Mom: "Okay."

Me: "Remember how you told me that the cows are different when they come back?"

Mom: "No."

Me: "You did."

Mom: "Okay."

(Clearly my mom had been just as concerned about this topic as I had)

Me: "Well, I am going to show you that they are the same cows."

Mom: "But, they're not. You can't show me that because they are completely different cows."

Me: "They are NOT! They are my cow friends!"

Mom: "Maybe these are your cow friends, but then they go away, and they don't come back."

Me: "No they don't! Friends don't do that!"

Mom: "Honey, we need to talk."

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Scene 6 is me being traumatized.

My mother decided that it was her duty to keep me informed. In that moment, she made a decision that scarred me for years. Well, okay, that's not true. The truth was that it only freaked me out for a day or two, but in the moment, it felt like I was going to be sad forever.

My mom said, "You know how when we grill hamburgers and those taste good? Or when we stop and get fast food? Or when we have steak and baked potatoes? That is beef."

She paused to give me a moment to process.

"Where do you think beef comes from?"

Me: "From beef."

Mom: "Right. But, beef is made of something. Like how mashed potatoes are made from potatoes. Beef is meat. It comes from an animal. Do you know what animal?"

Me: "No....."

At this point, a dim lightbulb was being lit. I was starting to get it, but not ready to admit where she was going with all this "beef comes from animals" talk.

Mom: "Beef comes from cows. The cows across the street are not 'Dairy Cows,' that we get milk from. If cows are not 'Dairy Cows,' then they are 'Beef Cows' and we eat them."

Pause for processing.

Mom: "Are you understanding what I'm saying?"

I understood.

I swore off beef for the rest of my life. That lasted about a week.

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And that is how I learned that "Beef Cows" don't go on vacation. They die. And then I eat them.

Tick Tock...

Twelve Days. Twelve short days until I embark on a new journey. It seems like just a few short months ago, I was moving to Lynchburg to start over. My plan was to attend grad school and enjoy the mountains. God's plan was so much bigger.

He needed to mend old wounds. He needed to show me Himself in all aspects of life. He needed to walk me through messes, mistakes and sin. He needed to reveal to me that I wasn't truley His. He needed to show me what it was to stop running. He needed to show me love.... friendship.... surrender.

And boy, did He ever!

So, now I am moving back to Ohio not defeated as though things didn't work out here in Lynchburg, but as a New Creation. I am not the same person that I was when I came here. I belong to My Creator, My King, My God. I am His daughtor.

And maybe Ohio is colder and flatter and it doesn't have quite as many any mountains.... but it's where He told me to go. And so I'm going and holding onto His promises, expecting miracles and opportunities to give away what was given to me.

In 15 months, He has changed me, and I am forever grateful.

As my time here draws to a close, I am finding that He is showing me how to tie up loose ends and have the conversations that need to be had. So that I can drive out of this town with the knowledge that I did my best to honor Him in all areas of my life- including moving back to Ohio.

I will be cherishing every person, every hug, every inside joke, every opportunity and taking nothing for granted.

Lynchburg, you have been good to me. So very good.

You will always be a special part of "home" for me.

Are You Willing?

A few weeks ago, my church had a service dedicated to celebration and worship. Baptism. Just typing that word makes me excited. And hopeful. And honestly, a little weepy.

This is from my baptism in September, 2012.

Baptism to me is more than getting sprinkled with water, more than going for a quick dip in a tub or pool of water. It is taking a step of obedience in front of our community. It is continuing in the obedience that God has called us to. It is an incredible thing to watch, especially at my church. If you haven't ever been to Blue Ridge Community Church, take a second and click on this link. It will send you to one of the services that just took place.

Because I serve on the Praise Team at our church, I had an opportunity to serve at all three services. I got to bear witness to story after story of life change and freedom. It was a beautiful thing.

Not too long ago, I stood on that very stage and told my story. I was scared and excited and overwhelmed. The feeling afterwards was incredible, though. Because I had finally surrendered my life to God, I needed to also step out and make my decision public. I was taking a chance and putting myself out there. There were a lot of insecurities that were involved in the process, but ultimately God made it clear that I was doing exactly what He wanted me to and exactly the right time.
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While I was watching these stories, God spoke to me in true "Abba Father" form. He showed me myself in all of their stories. Showed me their sacrifice. Showed me their boldness. Showed me their courage. Then He showed me who He was and where He was in all of it: in control.

These are the words God spoke to me: "I know sacrifice. I know what it is to let go of something that I care about. I know what it is to say goodbye. I understand completely what I am asking of you, and I am asking, 'Are you willing?'"

This was a new step. He already knew that I was being obedient and moving back to Ohio. He knew that I was packing thing after thing. He knew that I sold my furniture and threw things away. He saw me and what I was doing.

But, now He is addressing the condition of my heart. Where is my heart in this? Is He going to need to drag me kicking and screaming back to my family? Is He going to need to put me in my place time and time again as I try to make my own plans and have my own agenda?

Or am I going to go willingly?
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How many times in our lives do we begrudingly do the things that we know we are supposed to do, but complain along the way? Doing the chores our parents ask us to, but complaining the whole time. Apologizing to someone we hurt, but hiding pride and bitterness.

Moving to Ohio to love and serve my family, but crying and complaining as I pack and say goodbye.

I am not saying that's where my heart is, but that's definitely where it was headed.
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Poverbs 4:20-27: "My son, pay attention to what I say; turn your ear to my words. Do not let them out of your sight, keep them within your heart; for they are life to those who find them and health to one’s whole body. Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Keep your mouth free of perversity; keep corrupt talk far from your lips. Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you. Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways. Do not turn to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil."

 

Above everything that we do, we need to pay close attention to the condition of our heart. Everything. Every. Thing. Everything we do is a result of what we allow in our hearts.

 

This includes doing dishes, and apologizing and moving to Ohio.

 

Maybe Ohio is boring. Maybe I will feel useless. Maybe Certainly it will be colder than VA.

 

But as I go, I need to make sure my heart is soft to what God is saying and free from anything that will hinder my ability to fully glorify Him.

Leaving on a Jetplane?

My efforts to stay on top of writing on this blog and continue to process through what God is showing me were taken over by a big life event.

The event itself is twofold:

1. My Grampy started his battle with mesothelioma about a month ago. The news itself was not a shock to me, which I credit to years of watching medical-related TV show (thank you, Shonda Rhimes) and symptoms which I suspected pointed to cancer. But, it is still difficult to picture someone that has always appeared strong and invincible as strugglng and weakened.

All my bag are packed... I'm ready to go... (Well, almost)

2. I have decided to move back to Ohio. This was a long and complicated decision, but surprisingly not a hard one to make. Why? Because I can trace back how God has been preparing my heart for the past year (yes, year) to go back and love on my family. At first I wrestled with feelings of sadness and grief over leaving people that are so close to my heart. But then as God comforted me and began confirming over and over again that this was the thing He had for me, I began to get excited.

3.5 weeks from now, I will be rejoining my family in Ohio. I will begin a New Journey as a New Creation sharing New Love. I will be seeking community, and clinging desperately to the God that I now can call Abba Father. And I know that He is going before me in all this- every last step of it- to prepare a way for me to do the things that He is asking of me.

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I am so reminded of the passage in Matthew 28, when Jesus commissions His disciples out to share the things that they experienced and to reproduce themselves:

"Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:16-20)

I went to Virginia, where God told me to go. I became His daughter and learned to worship Him for who He is, not just what He has done. Now God is asking me to follow Him in this and give away what He has given me. And there is a little fear and uncertainty. But, He is with me. Always. He is by my side in all of this.

A Life Changed.... A Little Bit More

Man. It has been quite a weekend so far.

Friday, I was at church all day at a conference geared towards pastors and leaders in the ministry. God really opened my eyes in a deep, deep way.

Friday night, I went to bed and just prayed that God would show up again.I signed up to pray in our prayer room at 8am, so I would finish just as it was time for the conference to start.

I went into the room a little hesitantly. I knew that big things happened for other people during their "prayer room" time in the past. What if nothing big happened in mine? What if I fell asleep? What if I couldn't hear God say anything? Obviously, my mind was all over the place.

What a relief when I got in the room and one of the first things that it prompts you to do is to set your stuff down and just take a few moments to surrender the things that might distract you from God. As I sat on the couch, and just surrendered my thoughts, I felt the weight lifted off of me, and was able to focus (which is not easy for me in any normal situation).

As I made my way around the room, I felt God piggy-backing off what He had done yesterday. He gave me a very clear order to begin inviting Him into all the moments of my life. So, I was intentional about keeping that posture with Him.
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When I got about halfway around the room, I felt it. That feeling when you know that God is about to speak. I felt Him speak into me the answer to my prayer when I invited Him into all the parts of my life.

He reminded me of people in my life that have walked me through the hard things (and some of them are still doing this), and the love that I felt from them. Then He told me, "That is how I want you to spend your time; loving those that are difficult to love. You need to give it away. Love those people that are making big steps towards freedom."

There were a few areas that came to mind, but that isn't important. What's important is this: I know for a fact that these promptings were not me. I know it was God. Why is that? Because I, in my own strength, do not like (or love) people enough to desire to love them.

Specific actions in my past allude to this, but since I fully surrendered my life to God a few months ago I have found that my love for people has been blossoming. I find myself wanting to pour into people where in the past, I haven't. My heart burns for women walking through those really hard steps towards a new freedom. I actually can't wait to give away the things that God is showing me and doing in me. That is got to be the Lord.
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I don't know all the things God is going to do with what He just did in me, but I sure am excited to do it!

I'm just thankful that He keeps moving and working in me, and that He loves me enough to redeem me.

A Life Changed

My life was changed today.

And before you think, "Oh, Lindsay-Marie.... so dramatic.." I'm not exaggerating. I literally went into a building and came out completely different. Changed.

I found out a few weeks ago that our church was hosting a conference on prayer. I wasn't sure why I was supposed to go, but I knew I needed to be there. So, I let me boss know that I wouldn't be in and I bought a ticket. I showed up with simple expectations: that God would show up.

As soon as the day started, I could feel it: God was stirring something up in me. My mind and heart were completely taken over by specific things that stuck out to me. I scribbled them all down so I wouldn't forget them, knowing that I could read them later and try to process through what the thing was that God was trying to show me.

I might share those things later after I process through them. But, it's not the quotes that are important. What's important is what God did in my heart through them.
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We had people that shared about how they saw prayer transform their ministry area. People shared about how transformed their lives and those around them through prayer. One of the speakers was sharing about how prayer has affected her specific area of ministry and God got me all excited about who He is. His power. His faithfulness. His goodness. His consistency. How big He is. His righteousness. His majesty. He used specific things that have been happening in my life to remind me of who I know Him to be, because I have experienced it first hand.

Shortly after that, we broke off and prayed with our tables in different parts of the church. While my table was praying, God sent this jolt through my heart. It stung a little bit and shocked me.

This is what He said: "If you really believe those things about me, why are you not inviting me into the other areas of your life?" As He touched my heart, I repented of shutting Him out and trying to be my own God.

Because here's the thing... I love shouting proclamations of praise when God does something amazing and miraculous. I invite Him into those moments. I (like most) am also fairly quick to go to Him when I need something. But.... what about the in-between times? The things that seem mundane to me? The times that the choice is so simple that I decide that I can do it on my own.

But, what God said to me today is that He wants that too. He wants the boring stuff. He wants me to get up each day and for me to ask, "Okay, God. How do you want me to spend your time today. What do you want me to do to glorify You with each moment? How can I make today count for you?"
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So, we have one more day for this conference. I am going into tomorrow with the expectations the same. Simple. Just asking God to show up. And, I'm sure He will, like He always does.

You're Hired!!

What a weird twist of events the past two days...

Yesterday, I set up an interview for today at a preschool. Being a preschool teacher is my "fall back" job. It's something that I do well, and am well-qualified for. But, this teeny-tiny part of me felt going into the interview that being a preschool teacher again was taking a step back. But, I decided to go into it with an open mind.

I put on my best "preschool teacher-y outfit" and went in with confidence.

Upon arrival, I immediately felt at-ease. The preschool is set up in an older house, with each room set up as a different classroom. You can't help but feel comfortable there. Like going to your grandmother's house. It was nice.

The interview was seamless. The owner/director and I connected really well, and for a few moments I felt like I was gabbing with a girlfriend and not speaking with a prospective employer. That has proven to be a good sign in the past.
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Fast forward four hours. I was offered the job. In a measly twenty-eight hours, I lost a job and got a job.

But, in all of that, here is what I saw: God is incredibly big. He's so big, in fact, that He orchestrated me to find a job that would end after 3.5 weeks. Though the experience was short, it had many purposes. I met a coworker that pushed me to start to freelance. I also discovered my passion for social media management and marketing is a lot bigger than I thought. This job filled in a gap that bridged my nannying contract with a preschool job. A preschool job that wasn't available when I was looking.

I could go on and on about how I saw God in all of this, but the details aren't the point! The point is that He was in it. He always is. He's in everything, and in control.
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Last night during worship practice, we were given a time to listen to some mellow worship music and be encouraged by God. Something that God pointed me to was this:

Psalm 73:21-28
When my heart was grieved
    and my spirit embittered,

I was senseless and ignorant;
    I was a brute beast before you. 

Yet I am always with you;
    you hold me by my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,
    and afterward you will take me into glory. 

Whom have I in heaven but you?
    And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

My flesh and my heart may fail,
    but God is the strength of my heart
    and my portion forever.

Those who are far from you will perish;
    you destroy all who are unfaithful to you. 

But as for me, it is good to be near God.
    I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge;
    I will tell of all your deeds. 

This passage was the very one that stirred my heart and moved me to come back toward God and His hear four years ago. It means a lot to me for a lot of different reasons.

One of the things that struck me last night was how God is the same God today as He was then. Four years ago, when I was coming out of a long bout of alcoholism and promiscuity and a string of bad choices, He opened my eyes and showed me that all I had was Him, and He was all I needed. Yesterday, when I was angry and sad and confused about losing my job, He comforted me and told me that He would take care of everything. He is still the same. He has never changed.  His word is still comforting and loving and has this way that it draws us closer to His heart. It’s satisfying and is a breath of fresh air and when we’re panting and exhausted from fighting the war against the enemy, He quenches our thirst and leaves us feeling replenished.

He’s the same. Always. Faithful.

You're Fired!

Well, that's not actually what I heard, but it might as well have been.

So much has changed in the past few months. I'll sum it up in a sentence or two, how's that? I am now happily single and unemployed. So yeah, I guess I was able to sum that up fairly quickly.

Bitter? No.

Was I expecting this? Not in the least.

But, as most people end up saying: in the long run, I am better off.

The relationship just wasn't going to end up being a long-term thing. And, after three months of getting to know someone in a romantic way, no matter how much you care about them, you need to either.....ahem..... or get off the pot. I'm not saying that if you're still gaga over him, you need to get married, but at that point in a relationship, you know the person. And if you feel like it's not working out, break up. Simple. No need to drag it out and "try to make it work." Why? You're not married. If it's not gonna happen, it's not gonna happen.

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Now, onto the job situation.

I knew that my nannying days were numbered back in May or so. This part wasn't a surprise. (And man! I need to say that I miss those girls something fierce!)

What was a surprise is to be working for New Job for less than a month and to be "laid off" due to lack of work. I'm sorry, what?

I'll skip the drama and my hours of frustrated tears and cut to the chase: It just wasn't working out. In four months, the business I was working for will probably be doing a lot better and be able to support an addition staff member. Until then, he had to cut me loose. That's just the nature of business sometimes. I was the new kid in town, so I got the axe.

What's next, you ask?

I don't really have that answer. All I know is that God has given me a supernatural peace. I know He will provide the thing that He wants me to do. I know that all that He has led me through has been for a reason, and the break-up and getting laid off are no different. I'm just excited and eager to see what He's got up His sleeve.

For now, I am going to reassess, reorganize and rest.

A Week At The Gym

A few weeks ago, I began trying to schedule out specific blog posts to try to post regularly. Well, that worked for a while. Life just kinda happens. But, I’m not letting that discourage me. I’m jumping back in there and moving forward!

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Monday posts are reserved for my detailed workout plans for the week. The first two weeks of that weren’t so successful, mostly because I was doing it alone. It’s hard to push yourself.

Then I caught wind of a friend who was looking for someone to split their gym membership with them. What do I get? A gym membership for $10, and motivation to work out first thing in the morning!

I had to practice waking up early (since I usually sleep in), and the first few days were really hard. But, since I was getting my body moving, it made it much easier to wake up. And strangely enough, I have found that if I brush my teeth right away, it perks me up and my eyes adjust quicker to being open.

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So, now that all that catch-up is out of the way, here is a peek at my plan for the gym this week:

Treadmill Walking Routine

Credit: allroutines.tripod.com

This 30-minute walking workout tones and strengthens the hamstrings, quads and glutes (legs and butt).

My goal is to stay withing my target fat burning heart rate of 70-80% for most of the fat burning benefit, adjusting my speeds as necessary. For me, a 70% heart rate is 133 bpm, so my goal is to not drop below that.

Minute                           Speed                                Incline
0-3                                             3.0                                             0
3-5                                             3.4                                             1
5-7                                             3.5                                             3
7-10                                           3.7                                             1
10-11                                         3.4                                             6
11-16                                         3.6                                             0
16-17                                         3.4                                             8
17-20                                         3.4                                            10
20-23                                         3.7                                             0
23-26                                         3.4                                             8
26-28                                         3.5                                             3
28-30                                         3.3                                             0

I am going to take a copy of this with me and really focus on my heart rate and keeping it at the speed it needs to be to maximize my fat burn.

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I am also trying to work on getting a steady lifting routine and figure out what works for me. For now, I alternate what I work on. Arms one day, then legs, then arms. It’s that basic. I just try to get a burn going, but nothing too complicated. My biggest priority right now is my cardio routine.

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So, there you have it. I am still figuring out what my rest day is. I know for sure, Sundays, but I may also include a weekday.

Stay tuned for an update next week and keep moving!