Tea in the Dark

One early morning, I was in the kitchen before sunrise microwaving some water for my tea. I had not turned on the kitchen light. I opened the pantry and grabbed the box of tea. I opened up the tea box without tearing the lid. It’s something that I’ve learned to do. I know which corner of the four sides of the box to reach into gently and slide open so the top doesn’t tear. I’ve opened those tea boxes so many times. It’s my favorite tea, it is sweet without having sugar. It is very calming. It is so soothing.

I thought about how I could open the tea box without any light, without looking, without being able to see what I was doing. But still being able to find the right way.

I thought, you know, I can do this in the dark because I’ve done it so many times in the light. 

The microwave beeped, the water was hot, the teabags were open and ready to go. And I wondered, what are other things that I’ve done in the light so many times that now I can do in the dark?

I pondered this. And there are some silly things I can do in the dark, like getting dressed, or instinctively reaching for the right drawer to open to get a spoon. I can walk around this house in the dark because it’s the house I grew up in and I spent so many years walking around its halls and around furniture in the light. I don’t even have to count my steps or hold out my hands in front of me. I can trust myself in the dark here.

Then there are more important things that I’ve learned how to do in the dark. When I started my relationship with Jesus it was in the light. Bright, beautiful light like nothing I had ever known before. I sang and I prayed and I listened for God. I searched for him outside in the sun, inside of a brightly lit room where I read my Bible, and in the smiles of the people around me.

That light actually brought me out of a very dark place. A dark place without Jesus, with only depression and uncertainty. A dark place I could not navigate easily like the rooms of this house. The fear of bumping into something in the dark was too scary.

Now, when I find myself in a dark place, like depression or feeling uncertainty and doubt, I find that I can still sing. I can still pray. I can still listen for God. It comes easily in the dark because I’ve done it so many times in the light. 

While being in the dark is still scary sometimes, now I know I’m not alone. Jesus is there with me. He’s sitting by my side, holding my hand, and peacefully reassuring me. I don’t have to worry about navigating this dark place and bumping into things I can’t see. I can trust myself in this darkness because I am no longer alone. Jesus says to me His Word is a lamp to my feet, and light to my path. All I need to see is the next step in front of me. I trust that Jesus will show me the next right step until I find my way out of the darkness and back into the light. 

So when I first opened the box tea, I usually just tore the top off. But then I learned the right way to open it so the tea would stay fresh. 

And like that, when I first found Jesus, I was still tearing the tops off boxes because I didn’t know how to open them correctly. I didn’t know what to do to preserve myself by myself.

But as I came to know the light of Jesus, I was able to learn, to see how it was done, to be kind to myself, and to know I was not alone. 

Release to Find Peace

There’s something I would never do. My introverted and shy self wouldn’t ever entertain the thought of going to a retreat where I knew no one, had no idea who, or how many people, would be there, in a house I’d never seen, committed to 3 days of what I now call “immersive therapy “. There was no plan I knew of, no syllabus, no schedule. Just the instructions to show up sometime between 2 and 5.

Show up and then what? No thank you.

And yet, there I was arriving right at 2:00.
The 150 year old house was beautiful and the grounds were wide and open. The air was cold and crisp on a winter day in Missouri. I carried my over packed luggage inside and Theresa gave me the tour. The Journey Home was enchanting inside and out. Each room had multiple beds. I chose a bedroom no one else would likely choose so I could have my own space. Being alone was safe and comfortable for me.

Journey Home, Dearborn, Missouri

At the time, I didn’t realize how off kilter this was for me. I was okay. No thoughts of anxiety, just peace. My body knew something I didn’t. I just went with it. I wandered the grounds and found a swing. Warm sun on a cold day, wind chilling my cheeks as I swung back and forth. It was beautiful. I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere, so content.

Other people arrived and that’s when my introvert took over, like a turtle shrinking back into its shell. Please, don’t see me.
The 12 women who were there did see me, though. I sat for a while in the kitchen, congregating, pretending to be ok. Then I realized my smile was a mask to hide myself and rising anxiety. In therapy I’d already worked through not being fake and just being me. I refused to sit there and continue my charade. I went upstairs for some silence and centering.

Dinner was at 5:00. And then what? I don’t think anybody knew. I wished for bedtime, but circle time is what I got. This was not like any retreat I’d ever been to.

All of us sat in a circle in low chairs and pillows, snuggled in blankets like a slumber party.
But this was no party and there’d be no slumbering until … well at the time I had no idea.
These people don’t know my bedtime, I realized.

I really don’t remember what happened next, other than introductions. There was an opening ceremony of sorts. Really ceremony sounds like too big of a word. It was an observance of the elements, ancestors, and space we borrowed to be here together. A thanking, gratitude, and invitation to join us. For me it was captivating, having never participated in something like this before.

Then we talked. Again, there’s no program of activities I can refer back to, or I’d tell you what we talked about. But I don’t think what we did was as important as how it was healing parts of me. One small activity after another. Movement, art, smashing, creating, talking, meditating, and wandering. Healing and therapy disguised as interesting incidental activities. The culmination of it all after 3 days would break me open and I’d run; freer than I’d ever been, but not yet knowing how or why.

Vase I smashed and then repaired using the Japanese Kintsugi method of “golden joinery”.

Throughout the weekend I realized that I wanted to turn to nature and physical release, running, hitting, big movements; that’s what I needed. I want to share with you the moments that were the most soul-stirring for me.

The stomping.

We went outside and stomped. I stomped the ground with an intention to release what needed to go. I liked the exertion. I’m a stomper, fueled by a desire to run and scream and hit. I stomped all the way across the empty cornfield to the tree line. My intention was set, but the whole way there I argued with myself that my intention was unreasonable and certainly not going to be released by the time I reached the tree line. My intention was big and there was no tree line or time line that would heal it. Frustrated, I walked further around the trees. Then I traversed my way into the woods. It was serene, untouched, except by animals. I could see their tracks in the snow.

I went further in, avoiding thorned vines, stepping on downed trees. Eventually, I found myself in the middle of wooded seclusion. I marveled at the silence. Then I screamed with every bit of oxygen I had. I let my voice go echoing into the trees. I hit the trees with their very own fallen branches. I was unleashing something, the trees just a substitute for what I needed to unleash upon. I dropped to my knees in the snow and screamed and prayed. I yelled at God. I pleaded with Him. I cried and thought my tears would freeze on my face. Losing energy I sat and breathed out heavily. A visual release of warm breath into the cold air. I sat on a downed tree that was succumbing to the wet, snowy ground. I closed my eyes and sank into the silence with the tree.

The next day, back inside the circle we were asked to stand up. Walker performed his vision of his favorite tree.
I was next. “What’s your favorite tree, Bree?” asked Walker.
“Um, do I have to be the tree like you did? Or can I just tell you my favorite tree?”
No performing required, I stated that my favorite tree was a giant oak, just like the ones I grew up under in my childhood.

My giant oak in the front lawn of my childhood home.

Everyone shared their favorite tree. Then we closed our eyes and Walker took us on a journey. We became our tree. I was a giant oak, strong and heavy. My branches spread wide creating shade in the sun. As we listened to Walker, this guided meditation took us down into the earth. Our roots growing down, reaching for water and nourishment. Overcoming impasses like rocks and endlessly going down down down towards the center of the earth. Right there, in the center, was a chance to release everything that no longer served us. Mother Earth would take it from us. My branches pounded and boomed with their great mass. Resounding that which I didn’t need anymore down into the ground through, the roots, and releasing it to the fiery center of the firmament beneath our feet.

The tree meditation was a huge physical and mental release for me as I imagined being a strong oak, purging all of the unnecessary weight it had carried for many decades. Depleted of energy, I sat down and joined the others in the circle.

Suddenly, I felt trapped. The feeling fell upon me like a heavy wet blanket; suffocating. It wasn’t because of the people in the circle or the space where we sat. I was safe. But somewhere in my body, the feeling of trapped began to compress me. I had to move or I’d be stuck there.

I hurried outside through the back door. I wanted to run, but the empty winter cornfield was all rows and divots. Remnants of corn stalks caught in the hard, cold earth. I walked as fast as I could towards the tree line. I wanted to get inside the woods and just scream. Scream is the wrong word though. I wanted to roar, to howl from the deepest parts of me. A whole body effort, bending forward and throwing my arms back. Halfway to the trees I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The pressurized primal sound came out, surely the world could hear me. It took me to my knees. And again. And again. Loud, all encompassing, sound release. I was clearing out spaces inside me that held tightly to feelings, ideas, and thoughts that hurt me. I pounded the ground until my hands hurt, but it felt good. A healing release.

Dormant cornfield and wooded land.

I laid down on the cold earth, eyes up to the never ending blue sky, and just stared into the silence. The beautiful blue silence, dotted with barely there clouds; the remains of clouds that used to be. Listening to the wind around me, smelling the earth below me, the sun warming me just out of eyesite so I could keep gazing up, wondering if I could see the entire expanse of the sky.

I felt like I could stay there all day. I’d had a big release of energy, and now I could just be still and soak up energy from the elements. I don’t know how long I laid there, but eventually birds started circling overhead and I realized they were considering me for their next meal! I sat up and waved. They flew away. The sun was much lower in the sky when I started walking back. I turned around several times while walking, wanting to go back to the beautiful and calm.

A dormant cornfield; my sanctuary.

The one thing that I knew was on the agenda was an opportunity to participate in a firewalk. That’s probably what drew me to the retreat in the first place. I’d learned about grounding, or earthing, from Theresa. I thought it sounded ridiculous. But I tried it. The dewy morning grass felt amazing on my feet. Long barefoot walks down wooded trails in the spring. Feet connecting with the earth on leaves and moss under trees filtering warm sunlight. Walking barefoot by rivers, squishing my toes in mud and walking into the water just to stand in it. I even enjoyed walking on big boulders by the lake and pebbles lining the shore. And sometimes, ice cold snow. One of my favorites was red Oklahoma clay, cool and soft. Every time I came home I felt grounded, peaceful, my mood elevated. I’d wash the mud, dirt, and grass off my feet and relish the calmness. I was energized having traded my hectic energy to the earth in exchange for balancing energy.

My feet! During a walk in the woods.

A firewalk was an exciting idea to me. I’d walked in grass, mud, sand, clay, water, moss, snow, woods. But the element of fire was intriguing. Fire was the missing element from my earthing experience.
I admit that I seek out adrenaline behaviors when I’m anxious or depressed. I want that boost of excitement, even if it may be dangerous. But someone was always close by, ready to rescue me (like the time I was stuck in mud up to my calves, or had climbed just a bit too far down the large boulders by the river.)

Before the start of the firewalk, Fire Chief Walker, explained all the safety guidelines. Theresa talked to us about intention. I knew I could not make this about adrenaline. She encouraged us to have an intention, to talk to the fire about what we hoped to experience through the process. 
I set my intention as the fire burning out the false beliefs I held about myself. “Create in me a clean heart, oh Lord and renew a steadfast spirit in me”. Psalm 51:10

The sun set, creating a fiery sky of oranges and pinks. It mirrored the fire as if it were watching us and participating. We gathered around a fire pit and again thanked the elements, ancestors, and borrowed space, inviting them to be with us.

Sunset, Dearborn Missouri

Theresa explained that some people need a hyped up energy to walk the fire. But not me; I needed calm. We took turns stacking the cedar fire wood in a pattern designed to make the firewalk path.
We helped tend the flaming wood, moving pieces that had rolled out of place and keeping an eye on wayward embers. The fire was beautiful and so very hot.

Before it was almost time for Fire Chief Walker to “open” the fire for walking, I laid down in the grass and steadied myself. Deep breaths, no noise, no hype, just me and that fire. I’d been walking around barefoot outside for the 2 hours we tended the fire. I was grounded and ready. I started walking about 4 feet away, then crossed the fiery path. Not looking down, I looked straight ahead to the dark snowy cornfield. It was fantastic! I wanted to do it again and again, sometimes feeling as though I was a “fire hog”. I got no burns, just black ashy feet, and 3 pea sized bruises from the charred wood. I didn’t notice the bruises until the next day; they did not hurt at all. 

Eventually Fire Chief Walker announced he was about to close the firewalk. I exclaimed I wanted to go one more time! He brought fresh fiery embers from a secondary fire near by to freshen up the walk way. 

Smoldering cedar wood.

I expressed that I could have stayed out there all night under the dark sky above and the bright red embers below. It was beautiful. Walking and being in the silence was so calming. I didn’t want to go back inside. Some people asked how many times I walked; it was several, but I wasn’t keeping count. I just wanted more. Now I can add fire to my earthing experiences.

Ice cold healing fire.

We all reacted to the activities; physical, creative, and sharing our stories. No one reacted the same and no one was wrong. I reacted calmly to the more creative projects, but they affected me no less. For the firewalk I embraced calm and palpated the exhilaration of fire. I reacted very physically when given the chance, running across cornfields and hitting trees with sticks.

Roaring into the air. Cracking silence.

We were all tuning into our bodies with sound and silence, movement and stillness, destruction and creation, imagining and painting, and crying and laughing. We held space for each other by listening and not judging. It wasn’t just the paintings that were reflections of our souls, it was in everything we did, peeling back the layers of what we thought about ourselves to find ourselves.

The after effects of returning to my real world were shocking to say the least. I was so mad, upset, and confused. I contemplated “what had Theresa and Walker done to me?”; I felt shattered.

I told my friend that I’d loved every minute of it, even the hard things, while I was there. But now what? What do I do with all these emotions and holes that used to be filled with untruths I held about myself? I didn’t know what to replace it with. Had I ever experienced a true thing as a healing adult outside of my trauma?

I felt as though I was trapped in a thick glass bottle and plopped back into my life, completely detached from my surroundings, the people I live with, and even my own mind and body. I questioned everything, even things essential to me like my faith. That concerned me. But if you know me, you know I have big faith; and I believe God welcomes questions. How do we learn without asking questions? Doubt is a gift, allowing me to discover and refine my faith over and over again during my lifetime. 

The next day my emotional pendulum swung way to the other side. I felt a surge of energy. I was the woman who walked on fire and I could do anything! I was full of vigor. Helping friends to move furniture from storage to basement, they sometimes thought the load was too heavy for me, to which I exclaimed “I walked on fire, I can do anything!” And, yes, I bought a T-shirt that says that. 

My pendulum swung yet again, this time landing on anxiety and depression. I was poured out of that glass bottle into reality. Facing my real world where there was adulting to do. I was angry and scared. I beat up my punching bag and yelled (a therapeutic release Theresa thought me). I longed to be laying back in that cornfield, cold and still. Surrendering myself to the blue silence above.

One of the most amazing things I figured out post retreat came days later while texting with a good friend. She said she was proud of me. Again, multiple people telling me they were proud of me over the weekend. I didn’t understand. Proud of what? Then it came to me. I’d leaped out of my comfort zone, walking 5 feet out on a 4 foot limb. I’d done something I would never do. I spent 3 days with strangers at a therapeutic retreat, sharing stories, being vulnerable, learning from others, and being myself. Allowing myself the bodily awareness I so often hid trying to fit in. I’d been doing that my whole life. But there I belonged. I was especially aware of myself. I could run, cry, roar, sing, pound the ground, throw sticks, lay in the dirt, or disappear into the woods with zero concern about what others would think. I believe at the retreat was the first time I felt wholly aware of me. Unapologetically. Something new to carry with me into all my tomorrows.

Unapologetically me.

Family Meeting

So things are getting weird in therapy. I mean, therapy is always a little weird when you start self reflection and begin learning who you really are. I thought I knew me. But really I only knew the parts of me I’d not locked away in the storage room of my mind. Dusty boxes of feelings and trauma that I didn’t want to acknowledge. Now that my therapist and I have discovered that most of my adult decisions are being made by child Bree or trauma stricken Bree, I have to stop and get to the root of the problem when I notice it. This whole ‘talking to your inner child’ thing is very productive and disturbing at the same time. It’s hard. It’s strange. And I’m getting good at it. Yesterday I had to call family meeting. I met with little Bree, teenager Bree, and young adult Bree. All of us have our own level of trauma and sass and so the conversation wasn’t easy. Lots of opinions were spoken, and every one of them deserved to be heard and considered. The issue we were discussing was a simple one really. Two friends of mine are on a two week trip in an RV. Every night when they arrive at the campground and get the RV set up, I’ve received a phone call just to say hi and that they arrived safely. Every night. But this night in particular I did not get a call. To be fair, we never established that I should receive a call or that I required a call. It’s just what I was used to. I expected it. After all, who doesn’t want to call me after a long day of driving? When I started pouting, getting super sassy, and acting like I didn’t care when I obviously did, I realized this was not a healthy response. They had no obligation to call me. No promises had been made and I had not asked for nightly calls. After driving seven hours they were exhausted and had laid down for a nap. But I didn’t know that at the time. I realized my brain was running wild with “why isn’t anyone calling me?“ Please note that I knew exactly what time they arrived at the campground because, well, there’s an app for that. I do allot time for camp set up, walking the dogs, bathroom breaks, and even eating. Nice of me, huh? And before you ask, yes, they knew I was stalking them. I can hear my therapist’s response to that now. But we’ll save that for the next visit. After an hour I texted “are y’all OK?“ Really I should’ve asked myself if I was OK, because I wasn’t. I got a text back that they’d laid down for nap because they were exhausted. I have considered that there was a two hour time difference, so my bedtime was their dinner time. So I left it at that because I knew seven hours of driving is exhausting. Also, sassy Bree chose not to respond under the guise of “I don’t want to disturb their nap” (when really she was thinking maybe someone would wonder what was wrong if she didn’t respond). Back to the family meeting. I discussed with the girls my response to this situation, the situation being only that no one had called me when I was expecting it. Little Bree responded that she was always paid attention to, she came first, and didn’t understand why she couldn’t go camping. I asked her what about other people‘s needs? Like the need for someone to take a nap after driving seven hours. Little Bree said “What are needs?” I tried to explain, but she just responded that she has no needs because everyone takes care of her all the time. But teenager Bree, well, she sassed it right out of the park. Teenager Bree insisted that she was important enough to be thought of in advance of the nap. She said she was worried, but what she meant was she was upset for not receiving the attention. “The text should’ve been sent before the nap. That’s easy enough to do”, she said. Trauma stricken young adult Bree passively chimed in saying that “well, this is how I get treated. It’s been like this for years, nobody really cares about me or what I need. I’m always sitting around waiting for a phone call, and I’m always disappointed and sad when it doesn’t come.” That really shocked little Bree, it was so different from her experience. It was then that adult Bree realized her un-adult like response was really rooted in belief that she should be thought of despite what other people need, and when she is not paid attention to, it means she is not important and not worthy. Adult Bree also realized that she was basing her happiness on external things instead of internal things.

Little girl, Bree

I’m learning to talk to my inner child. The one that did not get whatever it is that she needed when she was young. I’m not even sure what that is, but I know that it’s affecting my adult decisions.

This is not my parents, or anyone in my families, fault. They all loved me well.

This morning little girl Bree laid under the covers, pulled up over her head determined to stay in bed all day. Depressed and anxious about nothing in particular.

Big girl Bree has been working on nurturing little girl Bree; how to talk to her, how to be gentle and acknowledge her needs. How can 43-year-old woman Bree talk to little Bree, who is maybe 8 years old, and just about as sassy as big girl Bree?

It’s hard work, but as a friend once told me “hard does not mean bad; it’s just hard”. And as I’ve learned over and over, I’m not the only one dealing with this. You are never the “only one”. Ever.

These trauma boxes that remain locked up in the storage of my mind must be unpacked, however long it takes. I don’t even know what’s in most of them, so they’re difficult to open. What might I find? Sometimes one just falls open and ‘boom’ I have to deal with it today. I call them emotional land mines. Things that trigger some repressed memory that you’d never expect.

So this morning, big girl Bree said to little girl Bree, get out of bed, we are going to the park. Secretly big girl Bree didn’t want to go just as bad as a little girl Bree did, but big girl Bree knows it is good to do the things you think you cannot do. And her therapist cheered her on via text. So there’s that – pushing myself to grow. Because in therapy I’ve learned that so many of my adult decisions are determined by my inner child, and she is not ok. Children cannot make adult decisions. She needs nurturing and acknowledgement. She needs to be heard. She needs a voice. And only I can give it to her. Which is scary to think of in itself.

So little girl Bree pitched a fit, kicked her feet, and cried (quite literally) while big girl Bree waited. Little Bree made all sorts of excuses: I haven’t brushed my hair or teeth, I don’t have a bra on, it’s chilly outside. Big girl Bree says well, little girls don’t wear bras, and since you don’t plan on talking to anyone but me, I don’t care if you brush your hair or teeth right now, we can do that later, and actually it’s very nice outside.

Little Bree stomped as she got dressed, gathered her things, and proceeded to trip over her own feet. She twisted her ankle, yet another excuse not to go. Big girl handed her some ibuprofen and said let’s go.

Both of them trudged to the car together, set the GPS and proceeded to drive the 2 miles (which seems like forever) to the park.

Little girl Bree was giving big girl Bree the silent treatment, but big girl just waited, holding space for her inner child.

The park was nice, the sun was warm, the breeze was refreshing, and the birds sang. The dandelions promised a thousand wishes.

As Bree decided to sit in the field of dandelions, little girl Bree finally spoke up and said “don’t sit on any of them. Those wishes belong to everybody, some belong to us, so we don’t want to squish any”. Big girl Bree found a patch of grass big enough for her to sit in without squishing any wishes.

Bree thinks that if you see a pretty flower you don’t need to pick it up, just let it live where it’s at. Little Bree said that in order to make a wish you need to blow on the dandelion and watch the white seedlings fly away. A moment later a strong breeze came by and all of a sudden they were surrounded by dozens of wishes blowing all around. Make a wish, little Bree said.

Bree sat with her inner child in the grass and sun, soaking up warmth from above and energy from the earth below.

They walked through the rose garden where dozens of various roses will soon be growing. They have wonderful names like “cherry parfait”, “rainbow knock out”, and “mellow yellow”. None are blooming yet, but there is a knowing; a promise. Those seeds were planted underground long ago, they came completely undone in the dark earth, reached towards the light, and are soaking up the sun. They will bloom with time. Just like the rest of us. From dark to light, from searching to finding, from waiting to blooming. When they do bloom I will come back and take dozens of pictures of them; just like last year.

We sat on a bench next to a pond. A couple of children came by with their mother. They marveled with amazement at lily pads, goldfish, and tadpoles. “There’s a frog!” exclaimed the young boy. That is pretty cool little girl Bree said. “It is, isn’t it?” said big girl Bree.

Big girl Bree and little girl Bree didn’t talk much more. They just sat and listened to the sound of the wind and the birds, watching the wishes blow by. Knowing that God was close enough to be in the whispers of wind, beautiful enough to be in the sounds of birds, and big enough to be all around like the swirling dandelion seedlings blowing in the breeze.

Learning To Be Okay

Yesterday it took everything I had to go to church. I was sitting in my comfy house drinking coffee and enjoying the silence of dawn, just before sunrise. I do this every morning. I sit and listen to the sound of singing crickets in the darkness right before the sunrise. I watch the sky slowly brighten with the promise of a new day. I watch the first rays of sun hitting the flowers on the kitchen windowsill. I talk to God. It’s my quiet time each day; and I love it. So quiet. So simple. So beautiful.

But then I panicked and I couldn’t tell you why. Fear crept up on me; breaking the silence in my head.

I repeated the words from scripture Kelli sent me 3 years ago: I am safe, I am seen, I am heard, I am valued, I am loved.

I practiced the calming techniques Anna taught me: using my 5 senses to bring me back to this time and place, rather than staying wherever my mind had wandered without telling me.

I looked into Holly’s eyes, which always calm me; having an understanding fiancée is such a blessing.

Even so, I was riddled with anxiety… and it’s all because I’m okay. What I think is happening is that I’m unconsciously turning “being okay” into the problem, because I can’t find a problem. There’s nothing wrong, but my brain and body expect there to be something wrong.

Living in safety and calmness is difficult for someone who is used to living in chaos and walking on eggshells. I am trying to learn how to be okay. I enjoy things like sitting in the morning before everyone else wakes up and listening to the sounds of dawn outside. I love the look and smell of fresh flowers. I enjoy watching television while eating dinner. I’m learning the sweet feel of a smile on my face when I realize I have friends and loved ones who would stop everything to drive across town to help me, or answer a call and talk me out of a panic attack.

It’s not weird, but it is foreign to me. It’s not that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop anymore. That used to be the case. No, this is different. I don’t worry that this nice life is going away. I’m walking into God’s best for me. I do think that deep down inside part of me believes I don’t deserve this life.

It wasn’t that long ago that things like silence, peace, friends, and even regular meals, were rare.

I went to church, not because I wanted to, but because the only things telling me not to go were born of fear. So I told fear to shut up, and I went to church hoping no one would comment on my cute new earrings, that no one would talk to me, and I could just go unnoticed.

Of course God is funny, and so everyone noticed my earrings, strangers sat at our table, and someone surprise hugged me from behind while I sat. In an attempt to break the awkwardness I was feeling, I asked Holly “was that Jesus?”. “No”, she said, “that was Carl”.

We came home and I cried for reasons I cannot explain. Then I napped while everyone watched football. I woke up and waited for the house to empty and then I did what I know to do. I worshipped. Loud and long, dancing and singing; just Jesus and I alone in the house. Worship is my weapon. It drives away darkness. Anxiety left and peace returned.

I start counseling today. Yes, I love Jesus and I’m going to see a counselor and I take medication for anxiety. And all of that is okay. That I am confident of.

I pray that just as I learned to survive in the chaos of my past, I will learn to thrive in the calmness and joy of this new life God has blessed me with.

How do you qavah?

The word we focused on at the Wonder retreat this year was “qavah”. It’s a Hebrew word that means to wait, look for, hope, expect, to linger, to collect, bind together a “line” or “cord,” a collection of fibers that are twisted together to make a strong and firm cord. This same word is also used for the abstract idea of “hope,” a strong and firm mind.

And so we gathered at the top of a mountain and we lingered. We found rest in the beauty of the nature around us, in laughter and friendship, in the silence of a still morning at the top of a mountain, in the majesty of a clear night sky and all the stars, in a rainstorm that brought fresh wind and bright lightening, in a Texas sunrise painted by God Himself, in worship and reflection, and in the sharing of our stories with our sisters. We also found it in shared meals, coffee, queso, and cake.

My revelation this weekend was that it is okay to be okay. I realized that in the past few months I’ve been looking for something to be wrong. I’ve always lived in chaos. I’ve spent more time looking for a problem than looking for Jesus; I thought that certainly there must be a problem somewhere. So I kept deciding the problem was me because I couldn’t find one in my life.

“What is wrong with me, God?” I journaled this weekend.
“Nothing”, He replied.

And so, at Wonder Weekend, I left behind my false belief that there must be something wrong with me.

It’s really hard for me to rest in being okay, to know that there doesn’t always have to be chaos or problems. Speaking with wise sisters this weekend, I came to understand that my past and survivor’s guilt leave me feeling uneasy with being okay, especially knowing so many others are hurting. Right now I’m doing really well, and I have to learn to press into that and be grateful for all He brought me through and all He’s doing now.

In 2016 there was so much chaos in my life. I was dying inside and out. I went to a Christian woman’s retreat that year too. Absolutely everything in my life changed after the November 2016 Splendid retreat. It wasn’t easy or fun or expected, but it was needed for my survival and for my relationship with Christ. I had to let go, surrender, wait, and be willing to be stretched. Stretching hurts, but that’s how you grow. My journey these past 2.5 years has been scary, ugly, beautiful, painful, exciting, sad, joyful, freeing, healing, restoring, riddled with anxiety, and filled with love. Every bit was worth it.

I am okay. I am happy. I am healthy. I am no longer just surviving, I am thriving. I am excited to see what He has planned for me next. I am walking into His best for me.

Me watching the sunrise at Mo-Ranch in Hunt, Texas. Photo by my friend, Pauline.

A Redeemed Heart and Desires of the Flesh

I found Jesus at age 36. By then I was already 16 years into my battle with opiate addiction. I was alone, hopeless, and depressed. And sitting on a dirty hotel room floor, with a tear stained face, I finally cried out to God for help. I had no idea who God was. But He was my only hope.

Honestly, at the time, I wasn’t even asking for help from drug abuse. I had already decided that I would eventually die from an overdose one day. But when you cry out to God for help, and give him permission to do whatever it takes, you will probably be surprised at what happens. 

I was crying out because I was lonely, my fiancé was in jail, I had been living in a hotel for 2 years, had no car, no friends, and had isolated myself from my family. At the time I didn’t consider myself abused, but I was. Emotionally, physically, and sexually. I just thought that’s the way girls like me deserved to be treated. I know better now.

In that moment, God saw me. He heard my voice, my prayers, and in the dark hotel room and the darkness of my mind, I felt Him. I felt His peace like a soft, warm beam of light piercing the darkness swirling around me. I know now that was the Holy Ghost comforting me.

“I love the Lord because he has heard my voice and my supplications. Because he inclined His ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live.” Psalm 116:1-2

I accepted Jesus that night. I was so on fire for the Lord. Giddy with excitement over learning everything I could, I did Bible studies and talked to my friend endlessly about all the things. I soaked up knowledge about God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost. I asked endless questions about tithing, church, marriage, praying, speaking in tongues, and fruits of the Spirit, and strived to “do it all right”, I wanted all of God right then and there. 

I didn’t realize that I had Him already. I continued this giddy, dizzying search for Him for years. But all the while I was being abused and abusing myself with drugs.

It all changed at a women’s retreat a couple years later, when I prayed with my whole heart “God, I give you everything. Do whatever it takes to make me healthy”.

Within one week I left my abusive husband. I cannot say I decided to. No one told me to. There was no plan. I just woke up one morning and could not physically stand to be near him anymore. So, with my entire body shaking, I walked out the door and didn’t look back. I believe God shook me so hard that day so I would seek out more firm a foundation. In Him.

Sometimes God is the storm that wrecks your ship. To get your attention. To draw you nearer. On that day, He was using what was meant for my harm to draw me closer to Him.

Within 6 months of leaving my abuser, I quit a 20 year addiction to painkillers. I did it at home. It was not pretty. I thought I would die. But I clung to God like He was my next breath. Breath by breath. Second by second. Minute by minute. I was drawing near to Him every day. Now it’s 3.5 years later and I am healed of that addiction. I never relapsed once; which is pretty much unheard of, especially for someone withdrawing at home and not in a hospital. Glory to God.

So, I have struggled with the desires of the flesh while having a redeemed heart. I overcame by clinging to God even when it was scary and hard and painful. 

“I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears. Look to him, and be radiant; so your face shall never be ashamed. This poor soul cried, and was heard by the Lord, and was saved from every trouble. The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them.” Psalm 34:4-7

A Million Bees

Hi friends! This post is part of a 7-week series on overcoming fear in which a few friends will be dropping by as guest bloggers. Please visit their blogs, linked at the bottom of their posts here, if you’d like to hear more from them. Here’s to getting a little more free from fear together. – Bree

A Million Bees by Jennifer Petecki

Overcome: Deal With — to defeat or succeed in controlling or dealing with something.

Overcome: Unable to Act — to prevent someone from being able to act or think in the usual way.

Overcome: To Defeat (an opponent) — prevail.

I am not much of a writer, so forgive me if I make mistakes. When I started this project, I asked several other women to write a few words about how they overcame fear. I had a strong need to share from many points of view the process with overcoming fear. Not just from the side of the overcomer but of the person attempting to overcome, as well. I don’t want to bog down this article with my own personal story. Like many of you, I have ADLBD. Attention deficit long blog disorder. The 6 other women have beautifully written how they overcame fear and how they are working toward getting free or staying free. I will share the more practical side of how I allowed God to work in me and through me by renewing my mind daily. If you haven’t read the 6 other articles in our fear series, please check them out.

Let’s get a few things out of the way.

You may have trouble breaking free from fear if you are telling yourself this is your personality, your dad was stressed out all the time so you are too, it doesn’t harm much, it’s just the way God designed you, etc. If there is something in your mind right now making you think you can’t even be totally free I want you to stop and ask God for hope to flood your mind. Then allow Him to start working on your heart and mind.

You need you ask yourself: are you willing to put in the work (especially at the beginning) to break free from fear? Do you want to be healed?

A story from John 5. One man there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and realized that he had spent a long time in this condition, He asked him, “Do you want to get well?” “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am on my way, someone else goes in before me.” Then Jesus told him, “Get up, pick up your mat, and walk.” Immediately the man was made well, and he picked up his mat and began to walk.

I am 36 and I can’t imagine laying by a pool for that long waiting for someone else to put me in. You have to ask yourself, do YOU want to be made well?

Ok, ready? How do I renew my mind daily?

Identify and ask God if there are any lies that need to be replaced. Can’t think of any right now? Wait until your husband comes home and irritates you. What pops into your head? Some of my lies toward my husband used to be: Why am I the only one that cleans or disciplines, He hasn’t said two words to me today, or Why won’t he help me?

Mine revolved around absolutes and partial truths. My husband does clean and so does my son, my husband does speak to me, but he is more internal and thoughtful, and he does help me. These were twisted lies or partial truths and sometimes more blatant lies.

I would start with reminding myself of God’s Word. If I didn’t know it, I would start reading or do a scripture search. God’s Word says I am not alone. Yet, I felt alone when I was cleaning by myself. I had to convince myself of God’s Word by repeating it over and over. As often as needed until those lies either went away or I was able to immediately say, “No, God’s Word says I am not alone.”

Is it kinda this easy? Yes. But it takes practice and learning God’s word. It takes being willing to break free from fear or other mental hindrances.

The way I described replacing lies, works the same with fear.

My husband was an hour late from work one night and I was going crazy wondering what happened to him. Was it a wreck? Did something bad happen? I could have been imagining that something good was happening like he was bringing home dinner, but I was so focused on it being bad news. I was panicking. This is irrational fear. Fear without any truth. The only truth was he was late and I didn’t know where he was. That’s it. I needed to activate hope. “God, what does your word say?” Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” If my husband has a hope and a future, he will be okay.

If we know all things work together for good, our mind begins to be at peace when our son doesn’t check in on time or we can’t get a hold of our elderly parent. Our mind begins to be at rest in God’s truth, until the truth is revealed. Romans 8:28 “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” This works for every thought that enters your mind. If your thoughts are critical, mean, condemning, make you feel bad, make you panicky, or make you want to harm yourself or someone else, they are NOT from God. Pay attention as you go into the new year trying to recognize your thoughts, God’s thoughts and the thoughts of the enemy. Make a list of the obvious lies. Maybe fear isn’t what you deal with the most but insecurity is. Start filling up your mind, changing it to see the biblical truth that you are: known, loved and seen by God, you are not alone, you have strength, you are ________. Whatever you need, God will provide it in His word.

Find the lies or negative thoughts. Replace the lie with the truth.

What is the truth? God’s Word. Not your own opinion and not the advice of a friend. Get the real biblical truth. Our friends and mentors can be an amazing help, but we need to seek God’s Word first.

Read it, memorize it, write it, speak it, sing it, and start filling your mind and heart with it.

Start with Psalms if fear is the biggest problem. And start playing praise and worship music in your home. If you deal with fear, praise and worship will transform your home. It’s also hard to get in a fight with your husband if people are singing to God in the background.

“I can’t get a hold of my mom! She always answers the phone.”

“God, when I am afraid I trust you and have faith in you.”

Psalm 56:3 (AMP) “When I am afraid, I will put my trust and faith in You.”

You are praying back scripture. You can think on these things, you can pray them back, speak them out, declare them, because they are powerful. God’s word is living and active. Sharper than any two edge sword. You not only renew your mind but you replace deep lies with truth, you heal your mind and heart of wounds and you start to transform. You will think clearer and feel safer. You begin to have more peace and less negative thoughts.

“God, you have not given me a spirit of fear! I have not been given a spirit of fear!”

I screamed this once as a million bees landed on me at a gas station. Okay, maybe like four bees? But four bees is enough bees. Funny in hindsight. I was scared, I am human. But I knew to call on the truth. I have not been given a spirit of fear. I have been given the Holy Spirit and he renews my thoughts and attitudes.

2 Timothy 1:7 (AMP) “For God did not give us a spirit of timidity or cowardice or fear, but [He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of sound judgment and personal discipline [abilities that result in a calm, well-balanced mind and self-control].”

John 14:15-31 (AMP) (Jesus said) “I have told you these things while I am still with you. But the Helper (Comforter, Advocate, Intercessor—Counselor, Strengthener, Standby), the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name [in My place, to represent Me and act on My behalf], He will teach you all things. And He will help you remember everything that I have told you. Peace I leave with you; My [perfect] peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be afraid. [Let My perfect peace calm you in every circumstance and give you courage and strength for every challenge.]”

When fear tried to enter my room one night, I said out loud, “no.” It was more of a creepy feeling or shadow than really seeing something, but I knew it didn’t have the right to mess with me. I don’t live in fear anymore. “I am not that person anymore!” 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NLT) “This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” I rolled over and said out loud to God, “I will lie down in peace and sleep for you alone will keep me safe. I will dwell in your safety.” Psalm 4:8 (NLT) In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe. I had memorized that one back when I had depression and trouble sleeping.

I do claim to be free from fear, but hear me when I say, fear will try to keep coming back off and on. Stay strong, renew your mind, tell fear “no”, and live the abundant life God has blessed you with. In the process of writing this project God exposed a couple of areas of fear that were deep in my heart, so I prayed and had him deal with them. He wants us to be made well and he cares so much about us. Psalm 139:23-24 (NIV)

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” He knows our anxious thoughts even when we don’t.

Let’s pray!

Father God, hi. Thank You for what You are doing in and through each of us as we learn new skills or are reminded how to break free from mindsets and lies. God you have not given us a spirit of fear but the Holy Spirit. Thank you for sending the Holy Spirit to bring us perfect peace and strength. Thank You for allowing me to share how I overcame fear with You leading the way. It’s all for Your glory and honor Lord. You came to set the captives free and I don’t want to be a captive anymore. God you are so so good to us and I will remind myself of Your goodness even when my circumstances don’t line up with what the Bible says. Use us to teach others how to break free. Give us passion for those that haven’t heard the good news yet of the freedom You offer. Thank You for life. Thank You for giving us the mind of Christ that prevails and defeats our enemy’s lies! Amen!

Are you an overcomer? How have you overcome fear? Do you use a variety of skills?

My favorites are praise and worship (all day – every day), prayer, and reading and declaring scripture. I use several translations of the bible. Use the one you like but if you are stuck, I suggest trying something new. I like to read a lot of translations so I can gain deeper understanding.

Faith and Fear

Hi friends! This post is part of a 7-week series on overcoming fear in which a few friends will be dropping by as guest bloggers. Please visit their blogs, linked at the bottom of their posts here, if you’d like to hear more from them. Here’s to getting a little more free from fear together. – Bree

Faith and Fear by Connie Hellmuth

What scares you?  I am fearless in many ways.  I lived in Mexico for a year and I still drive in Juárez often, even at night, which many of my fellow El Pasoan’s consider lunacy.  I will eat street food in other countries.  I talk to strangers.  I have traveled internationally by myself and loved it.  But I have recently become aware of how fear has limited me in the past and I am trying to recognize when fear influences my decision making.  Fear can hold us back from what God is calling us to do.  In the Christmas story are two examples of people being called to do something, and their responses.   Let’s look first at the story of Zechariah in Luke Chapter 1, verses 12-20.  The angel says,

“Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born.  He will bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” 

Wow—this is great news!  A long-desired and prayed for baby, and an angel telling you that this child will bring you joy and be used by God in mighty ways.  Zechariah’s response tells us a lot about his view of God and his faith. He was a priest, and he would know about Abraham and Sarah.  This wasn’t the first time God had sent a baby to a woman past child-bearing age.  Instead of receiving this news with joy, Zechariah asked the angel,

“How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.” 

For years I struggled with fear, just like Zechariah.  I struggled to believe that God loved me, that He was not disappointed in me.  I also struggled with the fear that I could not hear from God, that I would mess it up somehow.  For years I thought God might be calling me to get my master’s degree in Counseling.  I would inquire about what it took to apply, read the list of required classes, and then I would stop.  I didn’t know if I would be good at it, I was afraid to put all that work into a degree, spend all that money, only to find out I wasn’t good at it or I didn’t like it.  I finally identified that it was fear that was holding me back, and the only way to find out if I liked it, was to do it.  I absolutely loved the entire process.  Learning brought something to life inside me that had been long dormant.  It was life-giving to me.

As a young woman, I didn’t feel like God loved me.  I wanted to please Him and tried to follow all the rules to gain his approval.  I didn’t understand, at all, that there was nothing I could do to make Him love me more—or less.  When I finally came to understand God’s unconditional love for me, I was free from the fear that God was disappointed in me and that I couldn’t hear His voice.  God came into the world in humility as a baby, in the mess and muck of a stable, less than perfect conditions.  I don’t need to clean myself up before He loves me—He has always loved me, even before I surrendered my life to Him.  I came to understand as well that God’s ability to speak to His children was greater than Satan’s power to confuse us.  That understanding gave me a lot of peace.

When I was an early believer, someone told me that if I didn’t obey God, He would find someone else who would obey Him.  For years I lived with the fear that God would pass me over and abandon me because I didn’t respond to His call, or because I didn’t realize He was calling me.  Nothing could be farther from the truth!  The angel Gabriel sets Zechariah straight and gives him a consequence for not believing him, but I think it’s beautiful to notice that the angel’s message was true, and it did come to pass.  Elizabeth did conceive a boy and he was a prophet of God.  Zechariah’s doubt did not cause this important event to be canceled or transferred to another, more believing couple.  This story is a beautiful illustration of how God works with our frailties.  He knows us and our weaknesses and doesn’t leave us there.  He is always working for our good.

The next time in Luke that an angel is mentioned, it is with Mary.  Here is the passage from Luke 26-38.

“In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

                 Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.   But the angel said to her,

            “Do not be afraid Mary; you have found favor with God.  You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus.  He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”
                 “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month.  For no word from God will ever fail.”
“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Then the angel left her.

I believe Mary’s response was not one of doubt and was totally understandable.  She was a young woman, and she was not married.  Virgin birth had never happened before in the history of humankind, so she had reason to be confused.  But her response was based on her faith, not fear. Even though she might have felt afraid she chose to trust God rather than be led by fear.  Faith is the antidote to fear, and the more you exercise your faith, I’ve discovered, the greater it becomes. The more I know about God the more certain I am that He is worthy of my trust.  As I have obeyed Him, I have come to know Him better.  I might still be afraid, but when God is calling me to step out, I know He will go with me.   Mary believed God and His messenger and became the mother of the Messiah.  Fear comes between us and what God is calling us to do.  We miss opportunities that are life-giving when we give way to fear.  What are you afraid of?  What might God be calling you to do that scares you?  I will leave you with this poem an old friend posted on her Facebook wall.

I will not die an unlived life,
I will not live in fear
of failing or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible,
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise

by Dawana Markova

Connie Hellmuth is a Jesus follower who lives in El Paso, Texas with her husband of 38 years where they serve with Youth With a Mission El Paso/Juárez.  She is also a Licensed Professional Counseling Intern, loves kittens and puppies but has zero pets, and loves what she does.  She has seven children, ten grandchildren and loves to read, workout, and learn new things. 

Overcoming fear. Freedom from the idol of addiction.

When I first started penning this post in my head, I knew I wanted to write about a time that I overcame fear. I wanted to share with you the tools I used to help me overcome my greatest physical, emotional, and spiritual battle. I heard a song recently called Clear The Stage by Jimmy Needham. The lyrics are so true to what I had to do to survive quitting my 20 year addiction to opiates. You can listen to the song here: https://youtu.be/6smGew7dGto

I’ve overcome many fearful situations in my life. Specifically, in the past 2 years, I’ve overcome the fear of leaving a decade long abusive relationship and marriage, the fear of leaving a good job, the fear of leaving my home, my husband, my dog, my town, and the fear of moving home (again) and telling my family the truth about how I had been living.

I also recently overcame the shock of being verbally abused and pushed out of my home church by pastors I love and respect. To be fair, they didn’t tell me I had to stop coming to the church. They did, however, call me names and treat me inappropriately, and so I chose to leave. Praise God that I never had much fear about telling my family why I wasn’t going to that church anymore. I actually had a great peace about it. That peace came from God and from knowing my family loved me so very much. I’ve heard horror stories of families and friends disowning and turning on loved ones because of their sexuality. But I had no fear about that with my family. After all, with everything I’d been through, the least of their worries was who I chose to love… as long as it was a healthy, loving relationship. There was some fear about telling certain friends; friends in the church, my friend who is a pastor’s wife, my friend who is a pastor’s daughter, my mentors and women I consider spiritual mamas, and my friends at work who didn’t know much about me. I am so blessed that in each of these instances I’ve been met with nothing but kindness and love. In fact, all of the above was fairly easy compared to the fear of quitting my addiction.

Absolutely the scariest thing I’ve ever done is quit my 20-year addiction to opiates. Quitting was a decision I had to make. It was hard. I knew what was ahead of me once I quit using the drug that prevented my withdrawals. I was under a doctor’s care and being prescribed a medication to prevent withdrawals. It was a band aid medication. I wasn’t abusing painkillers anymore, but I was now addicted to this anti-opiate medication. What a lot of people don’t realize is that stopping that medication would bring on the same sort of physical and mental withdrawal symptoms as quitting heroin. I knew what that meant because I had tried to quit many times before on my own. I knew the weeks and months of physical pain and sickness and emotional turmoil quitting a 20-year addiction would take. I had tried to quit dozens of times before. I knew the fire I was walking into. I also knew that going through the fire was the only way to get sober. It would burn me inside and out. But it would also refine me and heal me, burning out the old and replacing it with the new. And I wasn’t going into that fire alone; this time I had Jesus and my loving family.

The first line of Jimmy Needham’s song says “Clear the stage and set the sound and lights ablaze. If that’s the measure you must take to crush the idols.”

That is what I had to do. My addiction had become an idol. I had come to know Jesus years before I quit. I was going to church, doing Bible studies, listening to worship music, going on Christian retreats, reading my Bible and praying daily… all while being medicated everyday just to maintain “normal”. But as the lyrics go “you can sing all you want to and still get it wrong; worship is more than a song“. I had to clear the stage, clear my life of all the stuff that was preventing me from quitting drugs. I had to leave my co-dependent abusive relationship. I had to quit my job where being high was the only way I could function. I had to set ablaze all the things I thought I wanted, and set them at the foot of the cross, entrusting myself to Jesus. I had to humble myself before my family and Jesus. I needed help and I couldn’t do it alone.

I was very sick for weeks; weak, malnourished, depressed, not sleeping … all the typical opiate withdrawal symptoms. My memory was awful and my moods rollercoastered. I was a terror to live with and a sad sight. One very specific thing I remember is that at 39 years old I was too sick and weak to load a dishwasher. I knew that in time I would heal physically but that it would take even longer for my brain to heal. It can take the brain a year to begin healing from the type of addiction I had. And so I waited.

“Take a break from all the plans that you have made and sit at home alone and wait for God to whisper. Beg Him please to open up his mouth and speak, and pray for real upon your knees until they blister. Shine the light on every corner of your life until the pride and lust and lies are in the open.”

During that time of waiting, during the sickness and pain of withdrawal and healing, I turned to God. I put a battle plan in place. Sick as I was, I laid in bed for weeks reading the Bible. Weeks turned into months. Tired as I was, I wrote the Psalms (specifically 34, 116, 23, and 91) out on paper over and over and read them aloud over myself. This was a very good tip from a dear friend, and I recommend it to anyone dealing with a difficult situation. I still do this today when experiencing difficulties; it calms me and brings me peace. There is something about writing the Word out on paper, not typing, but slowly writing, paying attention to each Word and reading them aloud over yourself as if God wrote them just for you. I prayed and had trusted friends praying for me. I listened to worship music and praised Him even though I was hurting so bad.

“Then read the Word and put to test the things you’ve heard until your heart and soul are stirred and rocked and broken.”

It had been weeks, going on months of me lying around the house sick and weak. More times than I can remember, I thought for sure I would not survive, or didn’t want to. One day, as I lay sick in my bed, I opened my Bible to John 5:8 where Jesus tells the man to “pick up your mat and walk”. And so I did. I got out of bed and went for a walk outside. I had not been outside for so long. The sun felt good. I couldn’t do that every day. Some days I was too weak or too depressed. Some days the best I could do was go sit in a sunny patch of grass in the yard. It was springtime. The giant oak trees became my church, the flowers the stained glass, and the birds the choir. I just kept looking for God. I knew He was healing me.

“Then seek the Lord, and wait for what He has in store, and know that great is your reward, so just be hopeful.”

Then it happened. One day I was able to help my mom load the dishwasher without getting sick or too tired. Before I knew it I was able to unload the heavy dishes and stack them up in the cabinets. Who knew that doing the dishes would be one of the biggest memories and milestones of my healing? It meant I was getting stronger. It meant I could finally help my mom who had taken such good care of me even when it was extremely hard to do so. I was thrilled in that moment. Standing there over a sink of dishes in my mom’s kitchen I wept. I wept for joy knowing God had healed me. I was getting stronger and I knew I would continue to get stronger as weeks turned into months which turned into a year.

Today I am proud to say that I conquered my fear, crushing the idol of addiction, and I am 1 year and 7 months sober. The process drew me nearer to the Lord than I had ever been before. The tools I used, like writing out the Psalms, praying with friends, and leaning into the Lord through His Word and worship, are still tools I use to conquer fear today. I know I could not have gotten off drugs and remained sober for 3.5 years now without Jesus. I have not relapsed once. That in itself is a miracle. I was healed completely by God. It is my biggest testimony. Praise God; I am healed.

“We must not worship something that’s not even worth it. Clear the stage; make some space for the One who deserves it. Anything I put before my God is an idol. Anything I want with all my heart is an idol. Anything I can’t stop thinking of is an idol. Anything that I give all my love is an idol.”

(1st picture: 2016, 2nd picture 2018)

*Years sober is updated from original post date.

The Lord gives, and takes away.

Hi friends! This post is part of a 7-week series on overcoming fear in which a few friends will be dropping by as guest bloggers. Please visit their blogs, linked at the bottom of their posts here, if you’d like to hear more from them. Here’s to getting a little more free from fear together. – Bree

The Lord Gives, and Takes Away-  by Marisa Swann

“The Lord gives, and takes away, was my first thought when I saw my lifeless son lying on the guest bedroom floor.

Let me give you a little backstory. I was pregnant with our fifth child. We had a great midwife that had delivered number four at our home a year prior. (God truly does have a sense of humor.? )  We had sonograms and the appropriate prenatal appointments.   A few people had asked if we were having twins. Several close friends said that they hoped we were pregnant with twins. At our first sonogram appointment John asked the tech is it twins. He had a feeling.  She assured us that there was only one baby. “I’ll bet my job on it”.  John still wants to go back and tell her she was wrong.

It was early in the morning on February 9. I hadn’t slept well because I was great with child.  My contractions had begun and I was waiting for John to wake up.  Sure enough it was baby time. We called our midwife and John called the church he was pastoring at the time. I labored and delivered a healthy baby boy, whom we named Noah. We were celebrating and enjoying our newborn cuddles.  I stood and up and said “something isn’t right.” I didn’t recall that until months later.  Suddenly, I delivered another baby boy.  Honestly, it was more like he fell out feet first and my midwife caught him.  I saw him and was in disbelief.  “The Lord gives, and takes away.”  I told God in that moment, “I know he belongs to you. But I haven’t had the chance to say hello.  I’m not ready to say goodbye.  Please God don’t take him”.

EMS was called and we spent several hours in the local emergency room with our surprise blessing.  After that,  Isaiah was transferred to Cooks Children’s Hospital.  Our first day was a complete blur. It was filled with listening to beeps, watching different medical staff come in and out, and our doctor telling us this and that was now a new concern.  On day four we received his MRI results.  They were not promising. Isaiah’s little brain was completely black and grey.  In fact, we were told to do “comfort care” aka, hospice for babies.  Our team of doctors told us to take our time making a decision, but they thought it was for best. John and I agreed, nope, not happening, we were bringing our boys home together. We took day four in waves.  One minute we were talking about how we could set up our home to best serve Isaiah. We would have to change rooms and we would have to create easy access for the EMTs. The next minute we would be sitting there listening to the beeps.  We would just look at each and laugh and say, “WE HAVE TWINS”.

Our first week was a just wait and see.  Isaiah would make an improvement only to have four setbacks. Our nurses were so kind. Each day they would ask about Noah. They also told us they had a concerns for his health. Finally, we gave in on day seven. John took Noah to the emergency room downstairs.  Two hours later, the charge nurse came and informed me that they didn’t have a twin room available. Noah would be two rooms down. I remember telling her okay and thinking, “she’s crazy.” Noah didn’t need a room. That’s when my phone rang and John told me he would be up soon to explain and that Noah was being admitted. His blood was thick and his red cell count was extremely high. They were shocked that Noah hadn’t had a stroke.

So, there we were with our twins in two separate rooms, both facing death.  John and I prayed.  We reached out to everyone we knew asking them to pray for our boys.  We made daily posts keeping everyone updated on Isaiah’s progress and then on Noah’s.  We didn’t give all the details on Noah.  Only a few knew Noah was on the verge of death. We received so many messages of prayers and encouragement.  We had family and friends posting and sharing our story.  Each of them asked their friends to pray for our TWINS.  We had people all over the world praying for our boys.

1 day turned into 7 days. 7 days turned into 14 days. Each day brought either a new issue or a struggle that one of them overcame. Eventually, we were moved into a twin room. Then, Isaiah was breathing on his own. Something the doctors told us that he would never be able to do.

On day 16 Isaiah had another MRI. The following day the doctor came into our room. He looked bewildered.  He sat down and said “I can’t explain it. Isaiah’s MRI came back normal”. In complete disbelief I just sat there. John asked to see it and if we could get a copy of the MRI. We also asked when we could go home.  We had been without our four other children for 17 days. Thankfully, the doctor told us we could go home that afternoon.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t in fear of what was to come next.  I knew I had to fully trust God. I knew He was the only one who could save our sons.  I knew now was not the time to be angry.  I knew now wasn’t the time to ask why. See the why didn’t matter. The why really never matters.  What mattered was that I knew God had a plan and I needed to trust Him. I knew I had to bring glory to God.  I knew God could perform miracles.

Noah and Isaiah are now healthy 4 years old, soon to be 5. I still say, “We HAVE TWINS,” in complete disbelief at least once a week. While Isaiah has challenges, but we don’t let those hold us back. We are still trusting God to do what He wants to in and through our sons.

Marisa Swann is a wife and mother who is coffee and essential-oil obsessed. She currently lives in Cypress, TX with her husband, 6 children, and a the start of a domesticated zoo. Her passions include cooking and sending starter kits for The Loved Bible Project. She also enjoys sleeping in, fine dining, and trips to Hawaii…or at least she thinks she would if she ever got the chance to do any of them.

When God Gives You What You Need Instead of What You Asked For

Hi friends! This post is part of a 7-week series on overcoming fear in which a few friends will be dropping by as guest bloggers. Please visit their blogs, linked at the bottom of their posts here, if you’d like to hear more from them. Here’s to getting a little more free from fear together. – Bree

When God Gives You What You Need Instead of What You Asked For by Lesley Islas

I spent the first 36 years of my life merely surviving, trying to muster up enough will to live, to get out of bed, and to try and be a decent person. The manipulation, untruths, and trauma of my childhood had me tangled in a web of shame, co-dependency, loneliness, and despair. I walked around attempting to mask my fear of so many things – mostly people and all the ways they could break my heart.

That kind of heaviness weighs on a person – for me the weight was both emotional and physical. From the age of five until just recently, I steadily gained weight in both capacities. The pounds on my body became a protective barrier from the kind of people who frightened me and the emotional baggage became an excuse to retaliate, run, and burn bridges at the first sign of rejection.

The thing is… that’s not a very fun way to live. That kind of life doesn’t embrace the abundance Jesus died to offer us. I knew that. I felt that truth in my bones. I knew the life I was living didn’t line up with who God said He was or who He said I was, but I couldn’t see any other way. Fear had paralyzed me. Fear had convinced me that the life I was given was not worth living.

On a Sunday afternoon in September 2017, I found myself in the middle of a medical emergency. My blood pressure was well over twice the numbers considered normal – stroke range. In the midst of this physical ordeal,  I was begging, pleading, bargaining, and crying out to God to take my life. This was His chance. I was done. Done fighting. Done pretending to be okay when I wasn’t. Done feeling broken and inadequate. I could not live in fear any longer. My solution was death. God’s solution was life.

Something shifted in me that day. God didn’t give in to my desire to give up, instead He revealed Himself to me in a new and different way. I walked out of the hospital with a new perspective. If I was broken, unworthy, unlovable, a burden, a charity case – all those things I had previously believed about myself – then why would God spare my life? He wouldn’t. If God is a loving Father and I was better off dead then He would not have let me live. But he did.

Jeremiah 29:11 says “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  This scripture can sting when your in a place where you’re not sure if you believe God is always good. But when you decide to trust that God is FOR you, that He is sovereign – these words bring so much hope.

I decided that day last September that if I was going to be highly encouraged by God to keep this life I had been given then I was NOT going to live it in fear. I decided to live truly surrendered to God – to trust His goodness, to trust His ability to protect me, and to trust His plans for me. That surrender has led to immeasurably more than I could have hoped for or imagined. (Ephesians 3:20)

Today I am starting the pre-op diet for my upcoming gastric bypass surgery that will take place on December 10th, 2018. Several people will be waiting and praying at the hospital while I am in surgery. After I am released from the hospital, I will be going to stay with a couple who have taken me into their lives and overwhelmingly shown me what love really looks like. They asked me to come stay with them after surgery so they could care for me and be with me as I recover – not because I needed them too but because they wanted to.

These friends, and all the others God has placed in my life, are not perfect. They are very much still humans who sometimes cause me to hold my breath in anticipation of rejection. Occasionally, I still expect the worst. But I have learned to stop and take a moment, to not react out of my feelings, and to check in with a trusted mentor when I get too anxious about a particular situation.  I am learning to let God into the moments where fear tries to creep in and to let His peace that is beyond my understanding (Philippians 4:7) be a comfort and a protection.

In Psalm 34:4 the psalmist writes “I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears.” The same is true for me. He didn’t answer the way I wanted Him to, but He answered the way I needed. And, I am SO grateful.

Lesley Islas is an Early Childhood Educator who loves living life in sweet Wimberley, Texas. Her favorite things include: holding sleeping babies, genuine laughter, honest tears, and holding hands. She writes honestly and vulnerably out of her own experience. Find past blog posts at: https://lesleyislas.blogspot.com.

Perfection, Performance and Anxiety

Hi friends! This post is part of a 7-week series on overcoming fear in which a few friends will be dropping by as guest bloggers. Please visit their blogs, linked at the bottom of their posts here, if you’d like to hear more from them. Here’s to getting a little more free from fear together. – Bree

Perfection, Performance and Anxiety by Heather Hughes www.mirrormirror05.com

Wearing a mask, building walls, the need to appear perfect, all play into anxiety. When you are a strong Type A personality with some slight OCD tendencies, anxiety seems to be a natural part of who you are. Well, at least in my case it is. Growing up, my family was a hot mess. I took on a great deal of responsibility at an early age. I guess as I grew up the need to look and at least appear perfect along with the need to control everything intensified. It wasn’t until well into adulthood I even realized that some of my behaviors, thought patterns and behaviorisms were linked back to anxiety.

I’m a married, mom of three, who happens to be on a church staff. I also hold a Master of Arts in Marriage and Family Counseling. One would think looking at this list, I would have all my stuff together and never waiver in my faith. When I look at where I am in life, while it may not be perfect, I really do have a great life. I have been married to the man of my dreams for a little over 13 years. I have 3, beautiful, healthy, active kiddos. If that’s the case, then why and how does anxiety play into my current life? The answer is deeper than what I can get into in a single post, but it’s a combination of past trauma and biology. Do you know how humbling it is to even admit out loud I have an anxiety disorder and have a therapist?

What many people don’t realize is anxiety falls on a spectrum. Some of what you think of anxiety is what you picture and is often portrayed in movies. Other people are ones you may consider to be “Worry Warts,” or characterize as “high strung.” Not all who struggle with anxiety have panic attacks where you are struggling to catch your breath, crying uncontrollably, or rocking in a corner somewhere. Sometimes the person in front of you may being having a panic attack and you don’t realize it’s happening at all.

For example, a couple years ago I went on girls’ beach trip. It was divine. I was with some of my best girlfriends. The weather was gorgeous. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. We were sitting in beach chairs, books in hand, enjoying conversation and listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore in front of us. If I were to describe a perfect moment in life, this would be one of them. All of a sudden a feeling of dread washed over me. My heart started racing and I wanted to flee. It was literally a feeling of fight or flight. The most frustrating thing is there was no identifiable trigger. All I could do was put down my book, get up and jump into the ocean. I swam out a ways and then stood there with my back to the shore doing deep breathing exercises until I no longer felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. My friends all assumed I was hot and wanted to cool off, not knowing anything was happening. Once I felt like I had my body back under control I went back to my beach chair. It wasn’t until later I told one of them what really happened. She wanted to support me, but because I was so embarrassed I couldn’t tell her in that moment.

In a later conversation with my therapist, she told me that in times of complete peace the body, always on guard, took the total lack of issues and triggered a physiological response. There is not always a identifiable trigger to panic attacks. We also talked about how other situations, not necessarily stressful can trigger an attack. Lack of sleep, hunger, intense situations and sometimes even talking to certain people can trigger an attack. Most people assume if people like me would “just quit worrying” or “think positive thoughts” the anxiety would disappear. Like so many other mental health disorders, there is a chemical imbalance and it’s not something we can just “think away.” Trust me, if that were possible I would have done it a long time ago.

Given that it’s something I have to live with, how do I cope on a regular basis? Most days I’m honestly ok. Therapy, the greenway and deep breathing exercises have been the best ways for me to deal with my anxiety. So far I’ve been able to avoid meds. This may not hold true down the road, but for now I don’t take anything.

The Lord and I also have many many long conversations. Please don’t hear me saying this is something that can be prayed away, because I know from experience, it can’t. It’s not that the Lord isn’t capable of taking away anxiety, but He doesn’t always choose to remove it from a person’s life. My faith is important to me and I can’t imagine walking down the road of anxiety without my faith. There are days when the fact that I am a Christian and on church staff the guilt and shame come into play. On those days I have a couple of people the Lord has put in my life I can turn to and lean on. I’m grateful the Lord has put people into my life who can be His hands and arms on the days I need them.

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned this year is that I can’t please all people, all the time. There are days when I strive to do everything right and know that I’m going to fall short and it has to be ok. For so long I’ve allowed what others think to rule my life and I notice on the days when my anxiety is at its highest, I am trying too hard to please those around me. As silly as it sounds the song “This is Me” from “The Greatest Showman” has become an anthem for me in coping with life. Yes, the Lord has used a secular song to speak volumes into my heart and life this year. I’ve learned that sometimes you just have to let things, situations and even people go, especially if they don’t accept you for you.

My greatest encouragement to anyone who walks this path is to let things go. Don’t tell people you want to do things you don’t want to do. Don’t continue to try and get certain people to like you. Your greatest value comes from the Lord and not those around you. On the hard, high anxiety days cry out to the Lord. Give it all to Him. He knows how you are feeling anyway, so let it out. His shoulders are large enough to handle it. It may also help to find a trusted friend or therapist to help you walk the hardest, darkest days of anxiety. You are NOT alone. You are NOT broken. You ARE loved. You ARE valued. The anxiety many never completely disappear, but it does not have to define who you are or where you go in life.

Heather Hughes is a wife, mother of three and on staff at The Glade Church. She has been blogging for several years and has a book in progress. Heather’s passion is to speak into the lives of women, assisting them to build authentic relationships with the Lord and those around them. Blog: www.mirrormirror05.com

The Answer to Fear

Hi friends! This post is part of a 7-week series on overcoming fear in which a few friends will be dropping by as guest bloggers. Please visit their blogs, linked at the bottom of their posts here, if you’d like to hear more from them. Here’s to getting a little more free from fear together. – Bree

The Answer to Fear by Cattie Price – cattieprice.com

Here are a bunch of things I’m afraid of right this minute:

• That I can’t write a real thing that will help real humans because I’m not a real writer
• That I’m too big of a sinner to ever be qualified enough to tell anybody else what to do with their Christian life
• That I won’t ever figure out my real calling, or worse, I don’t have one
• That I won’t ever get to be a mama, a huge dream of mine since childhood
• That a lot of people secretly don’t like me and just pretend they do
• That I’m not thin or pretty enough
• That I misheard God and I’m missing His will for my life
• That heaven will be boring
• That I’m always doing the wrong things
• That my mouth is too sassy to be a good, sweet Christian girl
• That I’m just too much and not enough at the same time
• That I’m too big of a mess for God to fix

Just in case you were thinking, friend, that I am writing this from the other side, having come through the fire and now I am healed of all fear and totally free of all of this, and now I can instruct you on the way out and fix your mess in three easy steps and four payments of $19.99, I’m not and I can’t. (I just don’t have that Billy Mays swagger, may he rest in peace.) But I can sit here in the middle of the mess with you and maybe we can figure it out together. Maybe the answer is somewhere in admitting I don’t have the answer – and none of us really does – but Jesus. Let’s run toward Him together.

I grew up without my dad. I’ve never met him, heard his voice, or been the recipient of one of his hugs. He has never sent me a birthday card, called me on the phone, helped me loft my bed in college, or taught me how to change a flat tire. Instead, before I was born, he decided I wasn’t worth sticking around for, so he walked out on my mom and me before I drew even a single breath. As a result, I have always been afraid that maybe I am more leaveable than lovable. That maybe anyone who I let love me would eventually figure out that I’m not worth it and skip out, too.

Sometimes I wonder if fatherless people don’t walk through this world a little more afraid than those who have fathers. If children build their lives on the foundation of their parents, it makes sense that mine has always felt a little wobbly. When one of the first people who is supposed to love you unconditionally decides to opt out of loving you at all, a specific kind of fear starts to seep into your bones. You become afraid that something in you is so broken, so worthless, so sideways that you just aren’t like other people. You become afraid that you’re not a valid person at all, that maybe there is no place for you anywhere. You perpetually feel like you don’t belong. You walk a little more carefully through your life, like at any moment someone might catch up with you and tell you the jig is up, you got here by accident. You weren’t invited. Just go away.

Fears like these are the number one things that steal my joy and peace. I’ve lived with them, in them, and through the lens of them my whole life, including my life with Jesus. It’s only now that I’m realizing fear has been kind of an idol for me. I know that sounds nuts, but we don’t always want our idols or choose them – sometimes they just sneak in there and we don’t realize we’ve been worshipping something other than God until we find ourselves joyless and lost, unshowered and depressed from letting something else steal the reins of the only precious life we have. And if you’re like me and fear is the thing you’ve accidentally handed over control to, it can be extra tricky to spot. You and I don’t desire fear, like people who have made idols out of money or sex or power. We don’t actively invite it in, lust after it, or even seek it at all on purpose, but here it is, controlling us anyway. How can something we don’t even want be our idol?

It starts by making little, harmless-feeling decisions for us. Things like, I don’t want to be a part of a church community because it is scary to open up to people and live vulnerably with others. I might get hurt. Or, I don’t want to visit my grandmother in the nursing home because it’s uncomfortable and awkward. We allow this, because it is more comfortable not to fight fear. It doesn’t feel like fear, it feels like certainty and safety. I think this sort of relational fear might affect people of my generation and younger more acutely than in prior generations, because we have screens to hide behind when we absolutely have to engage with others: text messages instead of phone calls, Instagram and Snapchat instead of coffee dates, eating in front of Netflix instead of family dinners.

Here’s a hard truth that kind of stinks: one way to get a little less afraid is to do the thing you’re afraid of anyway.

Yes, you might feel weird being the new kid at a new church or small group. Let them get to know you anyway.

Yes, you might get stuck in an awkward moment with your grandma. Go anyway.

Yes, you might get left and hurt and heartbroken. Love anyway.

I’m learning to embrace the anyway. It’s not easy, but it is simple. I know – it’s not fair. All the stories we read growing up about a hero who faced her fears instead of hiding from them were true. I would very much prefer the hiding route. Fix it, Jesus.

But every time we choose love over our fear, we look a little bit more like Jesus. Each time we go with love over fear, we chip off another piece of the idol to safety and comfort that fear has built in our hearts. Every time we gather up all our brave and choose love, we are allowing God to carve out a new heart in us in which love is bigger than our fear. In which love always wins, and fear is powerless.

Here’s what else I know: looking our fear in its lying face and choosing to worship Jesus instead is worth it. Over the years, I’ve worn my emotional brokenness like a shield, a badge of honor, and a doctor’s note, but most often I find I wear it like a nametag. Fatherless. Broken. Worthless. But my real Father, y’all? He has a different story to sing over me:

Worthy. (Luke 12:7)

New. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Wanted. (Isaiah 43:4)

Remembered. (Isaiah 49:15)

His. (Isaiah 43:1)

Loved. (Romans 5:8)

Brave. (2 Timothy 1:7)

Yes, brave. As in able to overcome my paralyzing fears, and shake them from my feet like so much dust. Because the thing is, I do have a Father – one who planned for me, intended for me to be here, and breathed me into existence for the purpose of being wrapped all my days in His love. And my Father has not given me a spirit of fear, but one of power, one of love, and of a sound mind. So when my mind is not sound and my spirit is trembling, I can run to the storehouse where He keeps His extra power and love and strength and all the brave I need. He is always faithful when I run out. He always helps me with all the anyways.

I wish I had the answer to fear. I’ll be honest with you, friend, it’s not always as simple as praying the fear away. I wish it was. Sometimes the fear is stubborn and sticky and doesn’t want to shake loose. Sometimes it stares into my eyes and demands I answer its constant question: What makes you think you’re anything worth anything?

And all I can do is keep whispering the only answer I know: Jesus. And though my fears roar and threaten, I will keep singing it anyway.

 

Cattie Price is a writer and speaker from Kansas City. A former teacher and social worker, she has a passion for welcoming the left out and pushed aside. She loves to bake and hang out with her fiancé, and drinks way too much Diet Coke. Connect with Cattie at cattieprice.com or on Facebook at facebook.com/cattieprice.

Targeted

God is moving in big ways in my life, and because I can’t see the end, the purpose, the “why” of it all, some days it is so hard. I’ve always said I have Big Faith. Friends tell me that I’ve overcome so much in my life, and I have. I have walked through and conquered huge fearful things, especially in the past few years. But the enemy doesn’t stop attacking just because you beat him once. If you wake up every day seeking after the Lord, consider yourself targeted. As a follower of Jesus I have a huge target on my back and the devil wants to take me down. I learned yesterday that fear can come when you least expect it, especially when everything is going so well. I was sitting in the rain of favor and overflow, and the devil didn’t like it one bit. So he attacked.

When I woke up yesterday, I prayed about a situation and felt good that God had it all under control. Of course He did, right? He always does. Even so, I asked for confirmation. I put into practice something I think a lot of us do. Something I learned from a Pastor that has brought me confirmation before. I held onto my closed Bible and I prayed that when I opened my Bible and pointed to a scripture, it would confirm for me what I was specifically praying about. So, with eyes closed, I opened my Bible and pointed to the page. Imagine my surprise when my finger landed exactly on John 5:39.

“You search the Scriptures because you think they give you eternal life. But the Scriptures point to me.” John 5:39 NLT

I laughed out loud. I had my confirmation. The Holy Spirit was saying “you already know God’s got this, you don’t need confirmation, keep your focus on Jesus”. Big faith.

As the day progressed, that big faith of mine was tested. The enemy came at me hard; he knows my weaknesses. Some thought I was crazy for having so much faith and putting it all in God’s hands. And when “it” didn’t happen the way I thought it would, when I thought it would, the enemy used that and ran rampant through my thoughts with doubt. I recognized it as an attack of fear, and it was so powerful. To combat it, I used all the weapons in my arsenal. I prayed, worshiped with music, read my favorite go-to Psalms, and got on my knees crying out to the Lord to ease my suffering. But suffering has a purpose; it grows me, stretches my faith.

Even with all the fight I could muster, fear derailed my faith yesterday for just a little while. I knew I had to stop giving into fear, but how? I couldn’t ride the faith train and the fear train at the same time. I listened to doubt and fear and said things that were so not like me; even I was surprised when I said them. Repeating the enemy’s lies out loud gives him power. This had to stop.

Yesterday was not a pass or fail test. It was a test of faith and learning; did I learn something? About me? About God? I did. And my faith is all the bigger for it. I keep coming back to James 1:2-4.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:2-4 NIV

I learned a big lesson yesterday. I learned that “God’s got this”, no matter what. All my doubt was so unnecessary because He was there the whole time working things for my good. I’d spent the whole day wallowing in doubt and frustration, and all the while God was still doing what He does – preparing a place for me. He was still on track with His plan for my life, still faithful, still loving me, even in my anger and doubt. God doesn’t change.

Keep praising Him in the storm, friends. Praise Him when it’s hard, praise Him when you don’t feel like it, praise Him when it seems pointless, because praise is never pointless. Hold fast to your faith. Have big “now faith”. That means right now, in every moment, even the hard ones.

“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1

There’s no comma between the words “now” and “faith” in that verse. It doesn’t say “Now, faith is …”, it says “Now faith is ….”. Right now. Even when you cannot see. Remain confident. Rest assured. Hold onto hope in Jesus. When the clouds clear you will be amazed at what you see.

Seasons

I haven’t written in a long time. Nudges from the Holy Spirit are telling me it’s time to start writing again. Bear with me, I may be a little rusty, but I have so much to share.

I’ve gone through huge changes in the past two years. Physically, emotionally, relationally, and spiritually. As the seasons of life rolled through like summer storms, I always kept looking for the rainbows. Through all the trials and waiting and joy, I watched God moving, and it has been spectacular. To have been so lost and outside of myself for so long, and surrendered to Christ, is a joyful thing. Is it hard? Yes. But it is worth it. I am worth it. And so, like James, I counted it all joy. (James 1:2 NIV)

A season of surrender.

On November 20, 2016, I left my abusive marriage. It was not planned. I did not want to go. Two days prior, my husband had abused me physically and verbally worse than he ever had before. Yes, it had happened before. Many times. You might ask why I didn’t leave sooner. For every abused woman, that answer is different. For me, I was trying to save my husband. But I had heard from God that I needed to get out of His way. God would heal us both, but not while we were together. Also, I did not want to leave my comfort zone, where abuse, addiction, and lack had become normal to me. On that day though, God was having no more of my stubbornness. If I would not leave on my own, He would yank me out of there. No pit is too deep for God’s long arm of love to grab hold and pull you out.

Sitting in the house that day became impossible. God was literally shaking me to my core to get out. So, riddled with anxiety and tears flooding my eyes, I went outside, sat by a tree and called my mom to come and get me. I left with just the small suitcase I never unpacked from my trip to a Christian woman’s retreat just a week prior. Leaving it all behind, and surrendering everything to Christ; trusting Him step by shaky step. I left my job of four years with health benefits, left all my belongings, my husband, my dog, and my home (a tiny 5th wheel trailer with no heat). I had no car because I’d totaled it in an accident a few months prior. I moved back in with my mom in a different city. I was addicted to drugs, penniless, jobless, abused, abusing myself, defeated, and depressed.

A season of healing and restoration.

I previously wrote about the day I quit my addiction to opiates. On May 5, 2017, I started a long and painful journey through withdrawal, detoxing, and day by day sobriety. It was the most painful thing I have ever done. I kept a journal, and if you read it, you would learn that many days I did not think I would survive. I thank God for His presence through it all, and for my family who supported me through this time. In ten days, on November 5th, 2018, I’ll be 1.5 years sober from my 20-year addiction to opiates. And all the glory belongs to God.

The Lord healed me physically, is still healing me emotionally, grown me spiritually by leaps & bounds, and drawn me nearer to him through it all. He has restored all that I lost and more. I’ve had an amazing part-time job for nearly a year, and have accepted a full-time job that starts in the new year. I have a car and my own laptop. I’m paying my own bills, including my debts, my own car insurance, and my school loans. My credit score has increased by 50 points in the past 2 months and is climbing. I have money in my savings account. I’m traveling; vacations and women’s retreats. I’ve been to 10 states with friends this year. My father has said he “has his daughter back” and that he trusts me again. My parents are proud of me and excited with me about my future. And again, all the glory belongs to God. Some will say that I did the hard work. And I did. But I could not have done it without Jesus.

A season of stretching and standing up for myself.

In the middle of all of this, God led me to a church that helped me grow spiritually by leaps and bounds. They poured into me and I soaked it all up like a sponge thirsty for water. I was so thirsty for the Lord. I was at church anytime it opened. I served as a greeter, served on the prayer team and the intercessory prayer team. I loved it all and made new friends there. God stretched my already big faith and began to teach me about my self-worth and spiritual gifts. I received my prayer language, which was something I had been asking for from God. I never wanted to leave that church. After about a year God began to gently whisper to me that my attendance at that church was only for a season. Of course, I didn’t want to hear that and so I kept attending. Again, God nudged me: this church is only for a season, and that season was coming to an end. Again, my stubbornness kept me there – in my comfort zone. I kept going, sitting in the front row each Sunday, worshipping and serving … until I couldn’t anymore. Slowly, church leaders pulled me out of different service areas. I reconciled it to myself as “it’s their church, their rules. I’m just here for Jesus anyway”. Within a few months, I found myself in the middle of the hardest spiritual battle I’d ever faced. Up until then, the church leaders thought they could fix me with niceness. Surely, they wouldn’t lose their “miracle of 2017” to what they considered a mortal sin. As I listened to the pastors, whom I deeply respected, I also insisted on digging into the Word myself. When I wouldn’t simply bend to their beliefs because I had my own interpretations of the living word of God, they become hostile. They will tell you they did it out of love, and I truly believe they loved me the best way they knew how. But God doesn’t love with fear and verbal abuse. They told me I was no longer allowed to sit on the front row, where I had been sitting since my first day there. Why? Because they needed to protect their reputation. Love the sinner, hate the sin. Oh, and I guess don’t let the sinners sit on the front row. Thank God that when the verbal abuse started, I immediately recognized it as abuse. The very church who helped me realize that I was, in fact, abused by my ex-husband, was abusing me now, and I was having none of that again. God had already yanked me out of an abusive marriage and healed me from abusing myself with drugs; I wasn’t about to stay at a church who abused me because of my sexuality. Today I thank God for the friends I made there who did not abandon me as I thought they might. I thank God for the knowledge, growth, and support I received from the church during the season I was there. But as my best friend told me out of love and support, “season over”. I never stepped foot back in that church again.

Restored to more.

Seasons are never just about us. All of this was never just about me. It’s so much more. People are always watching. My family and friends have watched me walk this out. People I have never met have heard my testimony. I surrender to the Lord daily and take each new step slowly but surely. I have been restored to more than I was before, physically, emotionally, relationally and spiritually. And all the glory belongs to God.

Before We Go On

Hi, it’s me, I’m still here. I’ve been journaling in paper journals since summertime. I was working through a lot of life changes and honestly did not have the wherewithal to type it all out in this blog, nor was I ready for everyone to read all about this part of my journey.

I found my journals and read through them. I’m not quite sure what to write about yet because the past six months have been such an amazing, refining, difficult, and fulfilling journey for me. A journey of surrender, pain, discovery, and restoration. My journals contain a lot of Scripture, a few letters that I wrote to myself from God reminding me who I am (His daughter), and so many words that are really hard to read about how I was feeling and what I was thinking at the time. Many pages are crossed out with the word “LIES” written across them. I realized that I was writing down lies about myself because as I went through this trial I learned more and more about what God says about me. I learned the truth.

I want to tell you all about the journey I’ve been through in the past six months. I want to share about hardships overcome and friendships made; about sickness and brokenness, and faithfulness, God’s and mine.

This coming Sunday, November 5th, I will be six months free from my drug addiction. That is a huge milestone and I’m very proud about that. On that day at church I’ll be getting re-baptized. I was baptized when I first came to Christ five years ago because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do – and that’s not wrong, that’s okay. But now I want to do it because I’m more aware of who I am in Christ. I agree with my friend that baptism should be about you and Jesus and not a work that’s done to prove something.

For right now I want to share this that I wrote at the beginning of August:

When you decide to acknowledge a hard thing that, until today, you didn’t realize had been stuffed so deep down inside for so long, but it comes bubbling to the surface and makes your eyes all watery; when you decide to do this hard thing, go ahead and crank up the worship music and dance before you do it. Praise and dance and sing; pray thanksgiving to God for going in before you, coming along side you, and going in with you. Because this is no cakewalk. You are going to be hugging the fireball, which is exactly what you need to do for God to refine you; burning out the old and making space for the new.

Photo taken by Holly Waugh.

Splendid by the Sea: Relinquish and Restore

I’ve always been an introvert, a wallflower and a loner. Group activities give me anxiety, especially groups of women. So when I decided to go to the Splendid retreat in 2016, with a group of 37 women I’d never met, I was excited and terrified. 

I’d been “friends” with these women for years in a safe, supportive group online, but I’d never met them in person. What if I didn’t fit in? They knew my story, but what if, in real life, I was different. Self defeating thoughts raced in; I’m weird, I’m shy, my life is a mess, I have secrets. How did I belong with these women I so admired? Women who I thought, for sure, didn’t have problems like me. I thought I was the only one, which is the worst thought of all. Soon I’d learn that you are never the only one.

I expressed my concerns to a friend who said I needed to talk to Ticcoa, who had experienced anxiety before going to Splendid. Ticcoa said the most wonderful thing that I will never forget. She told me I was wanted there, that I had a place at the Splendid table, my place was set and I just needed to show up, pull up a chair, and lean in. Since then, I know that “leaning in” is more about leaning into love and friendship, of other women, and of Jesus, than just a meal at a table.

From the day I decided to go to Splendid, until 9 weeks later when I got there, it seemed like everything was against me going. So much hardship and heartache. I grasped on to the one thing I knew to be true, that God wanted me there, and that my life would change for the better afterwards. But better doesn’t always mean easier, and I would have to give up the control I was trying so hard to maintain in my life, surrendering it all to God. 

Heading to the airport, I felt a great weight lifted off me as I left my stressful life behind even for a few days. I had no idea what I was walking into or how much it would change me. When I arrived at the retreat I met Jenni, my roommate for the weekend. I’d never met her before. She gave me a bracelet in the shape of a key that said “believe”. I believe, I thought, help my unbelief.

The location of the retreat was beautiful, by a lake at which I’d spend many hours by myself praying, crying, and journaling. There were no rules really, but the the Splendid Team had put so much work into planning events for us all. From worship and testimony, small groups, and classes to learn about authenticity, abiding in God, restoration and friendship. Friendship was the hardest thing for me because I believed so many lies about myself. 

I’d not read my Splendid journal until very recently. What I read sent shivers down my spine and tears from my eyes. I wrote things like “no one likes me; no one wants to”, ” I’m not a good person, I’m alone, I’m a burden”, and “why would I ever tell anyone else about my secrets; please help me God”. 

Then I learned about restoration, and how it comes from a breaking down of the old so God can rebuild to a point that was even better than the before. I learned about how God’s peace was so much bigger than the hole in which I’d dug myself. God’s love was bigger than all those lies, and if I would surrender to Him, love would win.

The most surprising thing I read in my journal from Splendid was that my prayer had changed. For a decade prior, I’d been praying that God would give me and my husband something to change our lives for the better. I was focused on the healing and not the healer. At Splendid my prayer, as written in my journal, changed to “God, I want to be closer to you. Please heal my life and my husband’s life, no matter what it takes. I surrender control to You.”. Whoa, “where did that come from?” I thought, reading it months later. 
I know now that it came after deep prayer and a rising up of the Holy Spirit within me, while new friends held my hand and prayed silently for me.  

That was a big surprise prayer for me. Giving up the control I had so purposely, and not so winningly, managed for years, thinking I could do it alone. I didn’t realize that God’s idea of healing would be very different than my idea. God’s ways aren’t always easy or fun, but necessary to move you in the direction He has already forged. I made up my mind to surrender to Him and willingly allow the Holy Spirit to lead me. I decided to get out of God’s way. Not only in my life, but in my husband’s.

Six days after returning home, I left my abusive marriage. Not because I decided I wanted to; I was scared to death leaving behind a decade of everything I knew. But God was pulling me towards a better life. I felt it in my bones. I was shaking inside as I left. Sometimes God shakes you to let you know you need to get moving to more firm a foundation. Soon after that, I quit my 20 year addiction to opiates and am now 6 weeks clean. Best of all, I’m discovering just how splendid and lovely I truly am. 

She Believed She Could So She Did

Today is Monday. Most of you woke up early, maybe wishing it was still the weekend, bribing kids to get out of bed, and hurrying off to school or work. 

I have a different sort of purpose today. I’m in the process of healing. In past posts I’ve mentioned the abusive relationship I was in and the drug abuse. It wasn’t just my husband who was abusing drugs, I was too. For years I’d been getting treatment for my addiction from a specialist. I’ve decided it’s time to stop taking the medication that treats my addiction, not to take another drug, and to take on the big bad wolf, quitting altogether and getting healthy. My doctor agrees it’s time. Which means I’m in the business of trusting God. I could not do this without God’s help. I know that because I’ve tried many times and failed for over 20 years. 

This time it’s different. This time I have Jesus by my side, the Holy Spirit in my heart, and God coming for me. I may have been wounded by emotional, physical, and drug abuse, but the wound is not fatal and I serve the greatest healer of all, God.

Trusting God is not always easy. If you don’t know God, imagine trusting someone that you cannot see and surrendering your entire life to Him. Then waiting to see what happens on His time, not yours. 

During this process, I have to be honest with myself & God, confessing my sins. I have to be willing to surrender to His will for my life. I have to stop depending on myself, let go of the reins, and let Him lead me. I have to be able to be silent and still, listening for His instruction. 

Trusting God means going down the road less traveled when most people are going the other way; it’s usually not the way you wanted to go, or thought you were going, but it’s His way, the best way. It is not easy.

Trusting God means trusting the people around you who He sent to help, and trusting that He always has your best interest at heart.
I made the decision to break this chain about a month ago. Since then I’ve gone through many ups and downs, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I’m blessed because God has sent many people to help me, including my family, doctors, and my friends. 

My friends are integral to this process because they always remind me of my goal, which is to be free and to accept the freedom that Jesus bought for me on Calvary when he died on the cross for me. They are my spiritual supporters, my midnight cheerleaders, and mid day musketeers, coming to the rescue with words of encouragement via text messages and phone calls. A sweet picture or meaningful scripture; just a soft reminder of how important it is that I do this, to break this chain that has held me back and weighed me down for 20 years. The enemy cannot have hold of me anymore. 

My family and my doctor keep me in check, ensuring I do what I need to do. Things like eating well and checking my blood pressure. It sounds so simple, but when you’re in the thick of it, when you’re in the fog of war, a physical, emotional and spiritual war like this, it’s hard to remember what you’re supposed to do. If you cannot see the shoreline because the storm is raging all around you, you have to trust the people who love you. You have to trust they were sent by God.

In four days, by the end of the week, when everyone is saying “TGIF” and making plans for the weekend, I will be celebrating a major milestone in my recovery. I don’t know if I will feel horrible or okay. It will take my body some time to heal. I’ve been abused, and abusing myself, for quite some time.

I do know that God is going to take my brokenness and put me back together, better than ever, healthier, wiser, and stronger. A friend of mine once said that “brokenness blooms beautiful”. All I have to do is hang in until He gets here. To wait on Him, for His perfect timing, to trust in that and to not waver in my faith. To have blind faith that keeps going no matter what. Even when I cannot see the shoreline through the storm. 

Sign by Melissa Weimer @ Mel Belle’s http://www.facebook.com/MelBellesCustomDecor

I’m scared because I have no idea how I’m going to feel and excited because I know that the healing process has started. My body will regulate back to normal over time, and I will start a new journey, whatever path the Lord has carved for me.

Normal. Whatever that means. But I’m looking forward to finding out who Bree is. She’s been missing for quite some time.

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Faith sprung forth

No one sees it happen in the twinkling of an eye. A seed falls to the ground, the rain falls from the sky. The sun shines down its brightest, day after many day. And beneath our feet, that seed cracks open, life is on the way. The roots go down in search of water, the sprig, up, in search of light. No one sees it happen, many people pass it by. Beneath our feet that little plant reaches upwards towards the sky. It pushes through the darkness, soaking in the morning light. Then walking by, I look down; I see a little green. How slowly and discreetly has faith sprung up in me. As quiet as a growing seed right beneath my feet.

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The Loved Bible Project

It was the summer of 2016. My husband’s birthday and my birthday, a week apart, had just passed. The sticky heat of Florida summer had me praying for rain. We lived in the country with wildflowers and wild animals; it was lovely and I truly enjoyed it’s beauty. 

Two days after my birthday a tragedy involving my husband brought me to my knees in the middle of the night. It was too much. I wailed at God. I’d like to say I was hanging on to life by a string, but that’s not true. God was holding me up because I had no strength left. I felt alone and broken. But what I had failed to notice through my tears was that God had seen all of this coming long before the days of summer. 

God had put a vision in a woman’s heart to send me a Loved Bible. At the time I’d never seen or heard of “The Loved Bible Project”. I’d also never communicated with the woman who mailed it to me in the beginning of September. This Bible was beautifully decorated with scriptures highlighted, fancy ribbon, and special notes written just to me. Imagine my shock. Why would anyone, especially someone who didn’t know me, take time to create this beautiful Bible for me?

As I read it daily, it’s words sank deep into my heart, patching the aching holes that fear had caused just weeks earlier. It was, to me, a gift like no other, of the upmost importance. This Bible, that seemingly came out of nowhere let me know that God knew what I was suffering. God was with me. 

About a month later, following more problems, I decided to leave my marriage. I didn’t take much with me, but I certainly grabbed my Loved Bible. I walked away from my life, everything I knew, and followed the Holy Spirit down a path I’m still on today. 

I’ve arrived at a point of rest where God has asked me to “be still” and wait on Him. With time on my hands, I pray and read a lot. I especially read my Bible. While praying, I decided I wanted to make a Loved Bible for someone else, someone specific I was praying for.

I got a Bible, pens, stickers, washi tape, notecards, and lots of ideas from The Loved Bible Project Facebook page. Then I got stuck. I just couldn’t do it, I was afraid to ruin the Bible by writing in it. I was afraid that I would mess it up, or do the wrong thing. I had all these plans, my favorite scriptures, great ideas, but fear took over. Weeks passed. 

Finally, I did it. I created my first Loved Bible page! It was exhilarating! I was so excited. I drove a couple of people crazy by messaging pictures of every page I created. Now I can hardly stop. It is so much fun and something I look forward to doing every day that I can. In fact, I think I need to start a new Loved Bible before I completely fill this one up and leave no room for its recipient to take their own notes.

As for the woman who sent me my Loved Bible, Kelli Moore, we are now friends. Though we’ve never met, we hope to one day. We message often and talk sometimes. She is my beloved friend, a beautiful woman, and an angel sent by God; the hands and feet of Jesus that loved on a Bible just for me. And, because of her generosity, I am loving on Bibles for others. 

If you have never tried to love on a Bible, you should. It is so simple and fun. Imagine reading the word of God and coloring, highlighting, drawing and decorating all of your favorite verses! You can make one for yourself, for a family member, or even for a stranger. Who knows, maybe that stranger will end up being one of your best friends. All you need is love. ❤️

Please check out The Loved Bible Project at http://www.lovedbibleproject.com

The following 3 pictures are of the Bible I received in the summer of 2016.

These pictures are from the Bible I’m currently “loving” for someone else.

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My Journey to recognize myself in Christ.

“I will cast my cares on you” Lord (Cast My Cares by Finding Favour), as I start down this road to healing. You have given me such a sweet, straight path to follow. 

The air smells of honeysuckle and hope. The sun is bright but not hot. My heart is at peace with the decision I’ve made. 

My family, and those who care about me have come into agreement that this is the best thing for me; confirming, for me, that we have come into alignment with God’s plan. My friends (you know who you are), have agreed to pray for me and check on me, being the hands and feet of Jesus when I need them.

Thank you Lord for this soft place to land after such a difficult decade. I made many bad decisions, and I’m so grateful for your never ending grace, mercy, forgiveness, faithfulness, and love. You, Lord, are faithful even when I am not. You are the anchor of my hope! 

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” (Hebrews 6:19)

You, Lord, are making all things new, and “You are making a miracle in me. When I see nothing but damaged goods, You see something good in the making. When I see wounded, You see mended.” (Mended by Matthew West).

Sometimes I get scared, but when I turn that fear over to you, you give me strength instead. When I get anxious, you give me peace. I’m so grateful for my faith in Jesus Christ as I face these challenges and choices. I believe my faith will heal me. I believe that because God said it would. Looking forward to this time of healing, and abiding in Christ; listening for what God would have me do. No matter what road I take, Jesus will always be with me. That is for sure, that is unchanging, that is a promise from God. 

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Sipping sweet tea

I was in my early twenties when I met him. He was so charismatic, funny, charming, smart, and cute. He was a DJ and locally “famous”. He said I was beautiful every day. Literally every day, he told me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me. He told me he loved my body. I followed him everywhere, to the grocery store, to his new apartment because he decided to move to my town (leaving his children and their mother), and followed him all over Florida for years. When things went wrong we always moved back to our hometown and stayed with one of our parents, weaving together whatever lies we needed to just long enough to stay. 

Then I got it. I got what I believe was my first big obvious warning from God (who I didn’t know yet) that this was not the man for me. 
He wasn’t working at the time and had developed a habit of not coming home at night. On this particular morning, I knew where he was and I drove over there before work to get him. I found him locked in a room with a hooker and a bunch of drugs. He was drunk. I was so angry, upset, and confused. I tried to leave, but he followed me. We argued on the porch. I slapped his cheek, he spit on my face, then put me in a head lock and pushed me to the ground. I remember my face being pressed onto the wood planks of the porch at the house where he was partying night before. Don’t get me wrong, I had partied too, just not on nights where I had to work in the morning. He was good at putting people in headlocks; he’d been a wrestler in high school. But he’d never done it to me before. Not once. That morning in particular, he didn’t want me to leave because I got paid that day and we had drugs we needed to buy. I tried to get In the car and leave, but he took my keys and wallet with my ID so I couldn’t cash my paycheck. Finally all the screaming must have woken up one of his drunk buddies. They stumbled out asking what the heck was happening and they convinced him to give me my stuff back so I would just leave. They didn’t want the neighbors to call the cops. 

I drove home, woke up my mom and cried to her. She said he couldn’t stay in her home anymore. I wailed “I can’t start over! I’m too old. I can’t do this without him. My life is over.” 

Truth is, my life wasn’t over, it was just starting to roll down hill, and as it did it would gain momentum, getting faster and faster. Quickly approaching the dreaded “rock bottom” where everything would come to a halt. Rock meets rock. My rock would shatter into a million pieces. Then, left with nothing but shards of a broken life, I would look around and find myself completely alone.
But rock bottom was still at least 6 years away from that morning. I still had so much awfullness to face. So much loneliness and darkness, terrifying moments that would make that morning on the front porch feel like sitting in a rocking chair with your neighbor sipping sweet tea.

Most importantly, I still had to find God. Of course He was always there, waiting for me, but I didn’t know it. He was just waiting for my messed up life to come into alignment with His plans for me. God was waiting for me to want something greater, better, safer; something more. Something I could only find through Him.

And thank God I would.

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I’m not abused. Am I?

Abuse. Abusive relationship. Being abused. My loved ones, the ones I trust, tell me that I was abused. My brain understands the concept, but my heart doesn’t believe it’s true. The thing is, we really did (do?) love each other. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were together all the time for 12 years. Maybe that was his way of controlling me; I don’t know. Maybe he did it purposefully, but I don’t think so. I never saw it that way. Honestly, I still don’t. I’ll talk about that later. I’m starting therapy this week or next, so I’ll write about that after I’ve had some time to hash it out with myself.

For now, I’m going to continue to share my story. It’s not pretty or easy or fun. It hasn’t gone the way I thought it would. My plans were not even close to God’s plans. Thank God. I’m going to keep sharing this journey because God’s plans are always better than our own. God has a great plan for me, and I cannot wait to see what I’m becoming.

“Becoming”

 

So after “the beginning” https://breenicolem.wordpress.com/2017/03/11/in-the-beginning/ I followed my boyfriend all over Florida, moving for jobs or just because our lives had crashed and burned where ever we were living. We moved back home, staying with his parents or mine more than once. Continuing to abuse drugs and emotionally abuse each other. Needless to say, life was not good. But Jesus was there. I know this now because I can look back and see him through the tears. He was waiting for me. He was protecting me. He was loving me. I just didn’t know it yet.

My boyfriend and I were abusing drugs. It’s gross and I look back with shame and disgust. We managed; we were what you call “functioning addicts”. We held down jobs (usually), had friends (drug dealers) and we were able to look like a normal couple. I think. But maybe not. I’ve never really asked anyone who knew us if they thought something was going on. I don’t really think I want to know what they suspected because I thought I was doing such a good job of pretending to be ok. I’ve written about how I came to Jesus earlier in this blog if you want to check that out here: https://breenicolem.wordpress.com/2016/02/29/tell-me-about-jesus/

What I didn’t know at the time is that in order to truly find Christ, I’d have to lose myself and be broken into a million shards of scary sickness and sadness. Of course God had a plan for those shards, but I needed to surrender. And I did on November 20, 2016. I left my life and walked toward a God I cannot see; blinded by tears, terrorized by my thoughts and feelings, and guided by the Holy Spirit.

I want to tell you all about what lead up to that horrible, terrifying, exhilarating moment of surrender. The months of constant attacks and hardships. Then I want to tell you about my healing and my growing relationship with God. I’m still in the middle of all of this, I have no idea where it will lead.

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Surrendered and Free

Five months ago my husband attempted suicide. Four months ago I was in a bad car accident, totaling my car. Three months ago the abuse in my marriage escalated to physical abuse.

But God was there. He never took His eyes off me. He gave me Splendid and women who poured light and love and Jesus into my soul.

Less than three months ago, in a matter of hours I decided to leave my whole life behind trusting that God had something better for me. I left my husband in a whirlwind of tears and fear. I quit my job and lost my health insurance. I had no car, no job, no money. I had my purse and a couple of outfits.
Who would have thought in the midst of that chaos I would find peace. True peace like I’ve never known before, and rest and hope and love.

Surrendered and scared, I cried out to God. I didn’t know what I wanted. I was so confused about everything. So I asked for peace.
He heard me and answered. I received peace and so much more. So many truly unbelievable things have happened. Unbelievable … but God.
So many blessings. All because I surrendered to God, confessed the truths in my heart, acknowledged the lies i was living and chose Jesus.

Six months since my life fell apart I now have an amazing job, my own money in the bank, health insurance, reunited relationships with my family, and new friends. Today I’m flying to Texas to see my best friend and join her at IF:Gathering.

Yes, God is with us all time. Even in the hard stuff. Especially in the hard stuff.

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In the beginning

A while ago a girl met a boy, the chemistry fantastic; like nothing she’d felt before. Yes, he had a family, 2 daughters and one on the way. But he wasn’t married; so she thought it ok. Her heart skipped a beat when he drove over 4 hours just so they could meet. Then he’d drive back home to his family. She was young and confused. Surely thIs is love she thought; he loves me.
(Doubt that’s what the mother of his daughters thought).

Many days and months passed; he’d hold open her doors, and hold tight her hand, paying the bills, and being her man. He once brought her roses “just because he can”. Swooning at the sight, she thought “this man is just right”. At night before bed, the comforter he’d heat, a few tumbles in the dryer is all it needed. Providing warmth and comfort, it’s what she needed. Surly this is love, she thought. Surely this is love indeed.

One day he was crying, we needed to talk. With tears in those big brown eyes he said “I’ve fallen in love with you”. Excitedly she said “I love you too!” But the boy replied, “No, this is my moment to love you”.

I was young and that thought was sweet. But looking back now, I wonder if this is where the control started, because it only got worse. At the time it was sweet, but now it’s perverse.

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Patience

The trees have patience as they grow. Watching us run too and fro. Hunting, gathering, scattering like the wind, blowing by then back again.
The trees have patience as they grow. Maybe they’ve got secrets I should know. The secrets to longevity, stillness, silence, majesty.

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The night it happened.

So much for daydreams, checkers on the beach,
laughing till it hurts,
and prayers that stop the world.
God listening, tears flowing
my stethoscope shows a broken
heart; how bout yours?
More lonely now than before
that night
where I couldn’t even see Gods light
Through the blinking lights, red and blue
Emergency!
Knees on the wet ground
He’s crying out for you, I’m told
but stay here (in the cold)
wet and alone, clutching The Word.
Until I heard your voice.
You’re always able to bring me home.
You remind me and are kind to me
Until my broken is too much
for you
and promises get broken too.
With broken dreams and
the emptiness
of where you used to be.
Sadly, it’s looking more like
solitaire on the beach for me.

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Change

Splendid by the Sea changed me. Like fall grasses and fallen leaves from a tree. A setting sun; and a rising up in me. As sure as the ocean stirs, God is stirring something in me. Changes are coming, not sure what they’ll be. 

Like Anna LeBaron said – I’m not going back the way I came.

I want to write more about Splendid by the Sea. I’m just not sure what to say yet. I need more time, I need to pray about it and to think about it and to spend lots of time with God. 

Amazing things happened. I actually connected with women who wanted to connect with me. I’ve spent my life trying to be a wallflower, to not be seen. Friends are not my forte, is what I’ve always said. But at Splendid I was seen, I was heard, and I was loved. And I liked it! They even sang my song with me! I’m excited to see what’s in store for me next.  

Splendid by the Sea, November 2016.

Splendid by the Sea

One week from today I’ll be waking up at Fort Caswell by the sea in North Carolina . I’m going to the Splendid by the Sea retreat with about 40 women who I call friends, but have never met. I’ve gotten to know a lot of them online in a very special “place” where we share our lives and our dreams, ask for advice and prayer, and just spend time together being silly, loving, and safe. It is my favorite “place” to go online; the #4500 group. There’s so much love, respect, understanding, and joy to be experienced in this “room” of Christian women – my friends.

This is not just any vacation for me. I’m so honored because I was invited to go. I could have never afforded the retreat and plane tickets, but on my birthday this year I got a call that made that dream come true. Truly, it was a gift straight from God. No doubt. 

In July I made a new “List of Ten” which ended up being about 14 things, but I prayed over that list, and talked to God about this new list of seemingly impossible things I wanted for my life. Number seven on that list was “go to a Splendid retreat with the women of #the4500“. I didn’t tell anyone about my list, no one. On August 22, my birthday, I got the call that I was invited to Splendid by the Sea! This is an excerpt of my list written in July, one month before I was invited. 

Since the invitation my life has been very difficult. Family health issues, a car accident, and other things tried to derail my chance to go. But in no way was I going to allow these setbacks to stop me from going to Splendid. I know this trip is in God’s plan for me. How did I handle all the stress life was throwing at me? Faith. I put all my faith in God, and I did not waiver. I knew God wanted me to go to Splendid, and if HE wanted me there, I would be there. Some how, some way. A whole lot of faith – daily, sometimes hourly, praying and giving thanks to God for His provision and protection in my life.

I have no idea what to expect at Splendid. I day dream about it a lot, wondering what will happen, and looking forward to meeting everyone. Some of these woman I have communicated with online for years. I’ve met one, and I’ve spoke to a couple of them on the phone. But they are all friends. All I know for sure is that I am wanted there, I am welcome there, and, as my friend “T.L.” told me: “Bree, there’s a seat waiting for you at the Splendid table. Your place has been set. Your arrival is anticipated. Your presence has been prepared for. You are worthy of pulling up to the table. Come to the table. Pull up your chair. Lean in. You belong there.” Wow. Amazing.

I am anticipated, prepared for, worthy, and I belong. That same friend told me, when I expressed concerns about leaving home for a few days, “HE has made a way for you to be there, so HE obviously wants you there. All you have to do is show up and let God be God.“

Let God be God. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I cannot wait for my Splendid trip to the sea!

The Cave

It’s a long commute home on any day, but this day it was longer. This particular day I was driving down the same road, but on a different journey.

There is a road that I jokingly call the “long road”, because it is the longest of 3 country roads I take to get home after I exit the interstate. On this day, it was as if the “long road” had turned into the long, dark, twisted entrance to a cave; a cave I’d once been in and thought I’d never go back. I’d been there nearly twenty years prior, when first diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I’d left college, going home to my parents, because I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I had been misdiagnosed by the college medical staff as “depressed”, but it was more than that. I was depressed at the time, but the medicine they gave me, anti-depressants, made me feel worse. So I dropped out of school and went home. By the Grace of God, my mother is a psychologist, and my father a counselor. They helped me find an amazing psychiatrist whom I saw, once a month (or more, if I needed to) for over 12 years. He said I reminded him of his daughter. He was a great doctor.

So there I was, on that road, headed for that cave again. Why? Because my friend was there, and I would not let him navigate that cave alone. I couldn’t drive fast enough to get to him, I was concerned and interested to see how he was, but not scared. I was never scared of him. I was scared for him. I knew that whatever he was facing, though different than what I faced, he would need me, and I would be there for him. Most importantly, I was bringing help. This time, as I entered that cave, I had Jesus with me.

I knew my friend’s smiles around others were faked because that’s what I used to do. I faked happiness for years so that I wouldn’t worry anyone. I just wanted everyone else to be OK, and not to pay attention to me. I wanted to melt into the background, go unnoticed, and just hide under a rock someplace. I saw this in my friend. I heard his words, and like a time machine, they took me back twenty years. Back to when I’d said those exact same words. “It’s like I am putting on a show for everyone”; “It’s exhausting”; “I don’t want to do this anymore”. I’ve known my friend more than 14 years, and saw though that fake happiness like his smile was made of glass. I saw through to the worry and pain he was in. I didn’t understand it and neither did he, but I would be there to try and figure it out with him.

I drove down that long passageway into the cave and found my friend. In this cave you never know behind which rock, or which corner, another scary thing is hiding. I knew because, like I said, I was in there twenty years ago, trying to sort it all out. For example, I would take a medication that was supposed to make me feel better. These medications can take 6-8 weeks to really start working. So I took the medication diligently, and for one month I was more depressed than ever. Fail; on to the next one. “Everyone reacts differently” my doctor said, “we have to keep trying”.

Around the next bend, I’d be prescribed something to help me sleep, but it only made me completely wired with a bad type of energy. So much terrible energy, that there was no way I could sleep. In fact, it gave me awful panic attacks. Fail; on to the next one. I felt like I was trying every medicine under the sun. But I had to keep trying.

There is light at the end of this cave; you can get through, and you can overcome. Not only that, but I think, after twenty years, I finally know why God allowed me to wander into that cave to begin with. So I could help others. So my cave becomes a blessing. From dark to light, from walking through hell to helping others. Amazing. Amazing realization for me but my friend still has a long way to go. So do many other people who find themselves at the mouth of this dark cave.

But I will be there with him every step along the way. On the other side of this cave is the rest of his life. I know because I’ve been thought it. And who knows, maybe I’m still walking through that old cave of mine, but now I have my faith, my God, and Jesus. And that makes all the difference.

Limitless

I’d just like to give a shout out to The Lord. Without HIM, I would not have made it through these past few weeks, would not be making it through each moment today, and would not have hope for the future. 

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” Hebrews 6:19

The Lord is protecting me. In so many ways HE is letting me know HE hears me. In mysterious ways I never could have thought of, HE is protecting my heart and mind. 

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

Like I said in my post a few days ago, I’m hearing God talk to me through others. In my father’s words, I am reminded of God’s Word; something I’ve read in the Bible. Today a truck parked next to me at the store playing music loudly, a song with lyrics “I’ll be with you, girl, like being low. Hey, hey, hey like being stoned”. I used to know who sang that song. I used to sing along. Today though, when I heard the song, I immediately thought of Stephen, Jesus’ disciple who was stoned to death.

God’s Word. Flooding my brain, cleansing my thoughts; protecting me with the truth, and keeping me from negativity. The faithfulness of our Lord in action. Coming out of nowhere, surprising me and totally amazing me with His Love and faithfulness; His promise to protect me: mind and soul. 

When I pray for peace in a difficult situation, I feel peace. When I talk to God, when I worship with song or writing, when I share my story and I am not afraid, He is pleased. 

When I first started this blog, because I felt God telling me to share my story, I was shy about sharing my story with too large an audience. But today I’ve decided to utilize every outlet I have to share my story with the world. 

God is keeping his promises to me. Protecting me. I will keep mine to Him and share my story without limitations.  

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Sometimes I just like to write poems

Have you praised the Lord this morning? Have you looked into the mirror, looking in your eyes and praised the Holy Spirit? Have you lifted your voice in worship to our Lord, despite your woes, do you have faith that Jesus is aboard this tiny boat? Aboard this boat with you that always seems to leak, but hope floats, don’t you know, and with faith you will not sink. With faith you’ll fill those holes, and with praise you’ll keep on sailing, and with love you’ll keep on going; with Jesus you’ll keep prevailing.

Quote by Toby Mac #SPEAKLIFE

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Counting It All Joy

What you’re about to read is coming from a woman who has had one of the worst weeks in her life.

It’s a very early, foggy, morning drive to work today. I woke up an hour before the alarm went off. Before leaving I prayed, as usual, and then I checked my email and Facebook because I had some extra time. On Facebook, someone commented to me about all of the things that had happened to me this past week. Big things and little things. From my husband being in ICU at the hospital to losing the key to my office. My friend commented “Fake it till you make it, Bree, and we’re all here with you, counting it all joy”. I had previously put the hashtag #CountingItAllJoy in one of my comments about all the problems I was having that week. Her comment also resonated with me because my dad always said “Fake it till you make it”. Recently, I heard someone say that the following Bible verse is no one’s favorite:

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.  But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” James 1:2-4 NKJV

Meaning, even when you face bad or uncomfortable things in life, count it all joy, because God is growing you and your faith. He is stretching you, and ensuring your faith remains strong even during times of difficulty. Will you turn to God in all situations? Will you praise Him no matter what?

The hard part is that we cannot see the forest through the trees. We see all the trees, the tall strong ones, the pretty ones, the short ones, the dying or broken ones, and we even see the dead leaves on the ground. Sometimes it’s like that in life when we experience things that are good and make us feel happy. But there are other times when we see a sapling that’s not getting enough sun, and probably won’t grow up big and strong. We see trees with broken limbs, and like our brokenness, we wonder if that tree will make it. Yet we have hope in the Lord. God accepts our brokenness. When we are weak, God is strong.

 “But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”2 Corinthians 12:9-11

I’m thinking about all of this today because I’m wondering how I got through it all, and how I’m going to get through the rest; knowing there is a long road ahead of me. I’m blessed to have a supportive family, and wonderful friends to lean on, but when it comes down to it, it’s my faith in Jesus that held me together, that gave me strength. I am made strong in my weakness because of God.

Jesus died on the cross, conquering sin and death. He was tempted in the wilderness. He has experienced anything you are going though; He has already been there. In addition, He has already forged a path forward for you towards home in Heaven, and He will walk with you. When you’re in the valleys of life, He is there. He will not give up on you saying “this is too hard for me, you’re on your own”. No, not our Jesus, He is always with us no matter what. Turn to Him in times of trouble. When you feel like that leaf that has fallen from the tree and is dying on the ground, remember, your nourishment and strength doesn’t come from anything that you can do. It comes from inside you, from Jesus, who you invited into your heart.

During the difficult week, I kept asking “why is all this happening?”  Then something else would happen. It was so hard, one thing after another. I came to realize, with a friend’s help, that I was asking the wrong question. Instead of “why” I should ask God to help me. So even when your life seems like a wreck, turn to God immediately. When you feel it coming on, that dread, and you just know, what should your first thought be? Maybe something like this: “Thank you God, for I know that you are with me and I am made strong through you” Because no matter what you are going through right now, it compares not to the sacrifice that Jesus made for us, out of love, so that we could have a relationship with our Father in Heaven.

Whenever I say “my Father in Heaven”, I always think of my father here on Earth, who loved me and raised me along with my mom. The other day, when daddy and I were talking, I realized that God was speaking to me through my father, who is not a believer at this time. My daddy’s advice is always amazing; he gives great advice. This past week however, when I spoke to my dad, I was constantly being reminded of something I’d read in the Bible. It was strange, and I told my dad that his advice was reminding me of things from the Bible. “Really” he asked, surprised. At the time, I gave him a very specific example. In fact, I think that my daddy is a believer, and he just doesn’t know it yet! He’ll probably laugh when he reads this! Daddy’s words to me have always been insightful, loving, caring, intelligent and non-judgmental; no matter what.

I know I am blessed to have a daddy to turn to in difficult times. But if you don’t have a daddy on Earth, you can always turn to your Daddy in Heaven, God, who will give you advice that is loving and kind, gentle yet strong, and non-judgmental. Because God doesn’t see you in the mess and muck that you’re standing in, He sees you through the eyes of His son, Jesus who redeemed us; who traded our sins for His righteousness.

So I will continue to “fake it until I make it”, which is a saying my dad has said a million times to me. I have God’s spirit inside me, and with Him, I can handle anything this world throws at me.

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That wasn’t the plan.

The week prior to this was great. From every which way I kept hearing God tell me He hears me. He hears my prayers. Through conversations with friends and family and even strangers who had just the right thing to say at just the right moment.

This week has been awful though. Not like in a “difficult work week” kind of awful, but in a “terrible accident taking two of your most loved people from you” kind of awful. No one passed away; but someone just turned and walked away without looking back.

I’m confused and heartbroken. If you know me, its probably not because of why you think. It’s not because of my husband. It’s because of “her”. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but I needed to write about it. Writing is therapy for me.

God, I’ll follow you. I’ll walk through the valley with he who needs someone to walk with. I’ll keep my promises made in a covenant with You and my husband  as best I can.

But why am I so heartbroken? It’s not about my husand’s suicide attempt. Which probably sounds awful. But if I’m honest, my heart is breaking because “she” left.

Once, a lady I met at church told me “friends come and go”, you’ve got Jesus. Jesus is your best friend anyway. Although I know she’s right, my heart is telling me something is wrong with this one. This one was long term. A life long friend. I just know it. But she left. Or I pushed her away, I’m not sure.

I’ve had nine days of hell to deal with, and so much work to do ahead of me, but all I can think of is this one loss: her.

Maybe its just easier for her  (I’m sure it is) not to walk any further through the valley with me. Maybe this is where we part ways. I hope not. That was never the plan. It was never my plan at least. Maybe, though, it’s part of God’s plan.

God, I’m going to be praying a lot,  asking you why. Why she left? When will she come back, if at all? I’ll be waiting expectantly for an answer. Not from a friend or a stranger, but from You.

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The List Of Ten, part 2 (“Miracles”)

In my last post “The List of Ten” (please read the post below), I left it as a “to be continued”. I needed to save the second part of this amazing story as it’s own post. It’s deserving of that. It is not merely a series of coincidences, as some may call them, but to me, they are miracles. I say that because at that time in my life, I did not believe these things were possible. When I prayed over my list daily, I told God that they were impossible for me to accomplish alone. But I’m never alone when I’m with Christ, am I? And is anything too hard for God?

As I said before, I thought this was such a silly idea. But within 9 months of praying, all of these things had come to pass. To review, my list included these things (as well as a few others that are so very personal, I’ve decided to keep them private for now):

1. I want Mark and I to move out of this hotel we’ve lived in for two years and into an apartment.
2. I want to get a car.
3. I want to reinstate my driver’s license and fix my tag so I could drive legally.
4. I want to marry Mark, in a church chapel, officiated by a pastor (not a notary).

We had a car, but it wasn’t running well, wasn’t dependable, and wasn’t legally registered. I began riding the bus to and from work daily. I’d never taken a city bus anywhere before and was quite concerned I wouldn’t be able figure out how to do it, but I did. I took the bus for a couple weeks until the great city of Jacksonville decided to change the bus routes, causing me to have to make 2 stops, with an hours’ wait in between. So I decided I needed a bike to ride to and from work. The hotel we were living in was only about 3.5 miles from work. So I thought “seven miles a day, I can do that!”. But I hadn’t been on a bike since I was 12, and now just over 2 decades later, my muscles were screaming at me “are you crazy?” The Pastor at the church we were attending at the time bought me a good, road worthy bike. This, the first in a long line of blessings to come. I road my bike all winter long, albeit a Florida winter, it still gets cold, and it still rains. I carried a huge backpack full of my work clothes, shoes, lunch, makeup, hairbrush; everything needed to put myself together once I got to work all sweaty.

I rode that bike for nearly 4 months until Mark’s mother decided to give us her car. Give, yes, I said give. She no longer drove it, and she’d been thinking of getting rid of it. I believe God helped her think about giving the car to us. It was, and still is, and amazing blessing. So now I had a car, but I did not have the money to register it, or pay for taxes, tag, or to reinstate my suspended driver’s license for unpaid traffic tickets. I kept praying. One day, my mom decided to help me with these expenses. I felt like the blessings were raining down on me! Soon I was a legal driver with a legal car, and driving again. Praise God! I am so grateful to our mother’s who blessed us with these gifts.

One of the other things on my list was that Mark and I be married in a church chapel. Now remember, we had already been living together for over 10 years. We had talked about marriage, but could never afford it, or other circumstances prevented it. Mark usually suggested we just marry at the courthouse with a notary. But since coming to Jesus, I wasn’t having any of that! I wanted to be married by a Pastor in a chapel. At the time, we were attending a church that met in a school, so there was no chapel, and we were not truly happy at that church for different reasons. We had been visiting other churches, trying to find something more traditional. We found Deermeadows Baptist Church, and both really liked it. We met a Pastor there, whom I’ll call Pastor “Michael” (because I haven’t asked his permission to use his name in my blog). Pastor “Michael” had been at Deermeadows for a long time, and was a senior member of their staff. He seemed to like Mark and I, and we both liked him. After about 3 months of attending, we asked about becoming members of the Church, which Pastor “Michael” counseled us on. He talked to us about what it meant to be a member of the church. Shortly thereafter, Mark and I told the Pastor that we wanted to be married. Pastor “Michael” did premarital counseling with us for a few weeks. We felt so loved and not judged by Pastor “Michael”, despite our current situation and our past.

Deermeadows Baptist is a huge Church with a large campus. The main sanctuary holds thousands. One day, while looking for the ladies restroom, I stumbled upon a couple of doors I’d never seen before. An ethereal glow emanated from the glass in the doors. I tried the handle, it was unlocked. I walked in. It was the most beautiful little chapel I had ever seen. Wall to wall in stained glass, with the centerpiece, a floor to ceiling stained glass of Jesus. I sat down and cried my eyes out, thinking “this is where I am going to be married. Mark and I will stand under that picture of Jesus and make a covenant between each other and God, to be wed and love each other forever“. And so it came to pass that we were married there on September 26th, 2015 by Pastor “Michael”. Though I couldn’t afford it, my family gifted us with things like a photographer, a make up lady for me, my dress, Mark’s suit, and a reception. Pastor “Michael”, however, returned the checks I’d written to him and his wife (who would be there to help). “It’s part of my ministry” the Pastor explained, and he did not want to be paid. Bless.

Chapel we were married in.

So now we’ve come to the best part of this post. The most amazing miracle of all, what I asked for first; to be able to move out of the hotel we’d lived in with our beloved dog for 2 years. How we got there is a long story, but once there, we were stuck due to financial problems and bad “rental” credit history. We tried to apply at apartments time and again, but were denied each time due to our credit history. I understand that I was responsible for the bad credit history. I take full responsibility for our situation. This hotel was not nice. It was full of, well, people like us, people with problems, and bad people. Drug dealers and such.

At the time I was very much involved with an online bible study. It was the end of January and we were studying Acts and I read the story of Rahab in the Bible for the first time. I read how she lived in the walls of the city, on the outskirts of society, and was doing whatever she could to care for her family. I also read about how she’d heard about God and the great things He was doing for His people. And she believed. I imagine that she had nothing but bits and pieces of information about God that she heard in passing, or from the men she “worked” for. I felt so much like her. I connected with Rahab. Living on the edge of society, in the bad part of town, hardly surviving, and doing what she could to care of her family.

When a couple of God’s people came into her city as spies to determine how they could capture the city God had promised them, they met Rahab. (Please forgive my recounting of this story from my memory, as I may have some of the details wrong, but the main point is spot on). Rahab trusted what they told her, and trusted that they would save her and her family if she would just believe and have faith. Rahab had faith. Perhaps just a mustard seed of faith that she kept deep in her heart, but it was there. So much like me, in the beginning of my coming to Jesus. Having not been raised in Church, and knowing nothing of God, Jesus, or the Bible, but I like to think my faith was strong. I’ve said before: if God will take my life and trade it for the life He has planned for me, the life Jesus died to give me, I will take it!

“I am Rahab”, I thought. 

Rahab knew God was going to take the city, and so she helped the spies and told them what they needed to hear: that the whole city was afraid of God and what He was doing through his chosen people.

I wrote in the bible study comments that day about how much I felt akin to Rahab and why. I explained in an open, honest, vulnerable way that I knew what it’s like to be Rahab. I wrote more details than that, not because I wanted pity, but because I was so amazed that I could relate to a woman who lived I don’t know how many thousands of years before me. I was hardly able to type through the tears. Rahab inspired me. Her little bitty faith saved her and her families’ life and made her the great great+ grandma of Jesus. Rahab, just an ordinary woman, like me, being used by God for greatness. “Could He use me?”, I thought.

Later that day in the bible study, a woman whom I will call Robin (to protect her privacy) commented. She did not know me at all, except from the comments I’d written over the time I’d been involved in the study. She asked, very timidly, if she could help me. She didn’t want to make me feel like it was charity. After all, I had not asked for help. Because she asked for it, I gave her my P.O. Box address and a few days later I received a card from her with a beautiful message, a monetary gift to add to my bank to help us move, an a picture. The picture was of a young girl in a 3rd world county, to whom she’d donated, in my name, a bicycle that would allow that girl to get to and from school. I cannot type this without crying. God is SO amazing. He works miracles everyday!

I could end this story here, and it would be nice. But we aren’t even close to the end.

Over the next few weeks, everyday when checking my P.O. Box, I began to receive cards from other women who did not know me. Cards from all over the country. Some cards contained monetary gifts; $1, $5, $20 or more. All of them came with handwritten words of encouragement, or scriptures, and they wrote about how my story, and my willingness to be so vulnerable and honest was inspiring and encouraging to them. I also received a beautifully bound bible that I still take to church each Sunday, a bracelet engraved with the words “Sisters in Christ“, and other gifts. I would bring the envelopes home, and Mark and I would sit on the bed in that hotel room, and pray over each envelope before we opened it. Most of the envelopes had no forwarding address and the letters were signed with only first names or initials. Meaning, no “thank you” was expected. I received a total of 46 letters and cards. I had no idea that my story of my broken life was encouraging to these woman.They told me I was a blessing to them! Which, by the way, completely breaks me down into tears, even now, years later.

The money I’d been gifted was enough for Mark and I to move out of that hotel and into a second chance house community who ignored our credit because we put down such a big nonrefundable deposit. We were able to leave the hotel. Praise God!

No one but God could have made that happen. No One. God deserves ALL the Glory here. 

And I bet that some of you, faithful readers, are some of those women who sent me a card, letter, or note, to bring me though the darkest time in my life. Now, because you left no forwarding addresses, is my chance to say “thank you” from the bottom of my heart, thank you, and God bless.

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The List of Ten

After I’d been a believer for about six months, maybe a bit longer, I was really struggling. Not with my faith. My faith came on fast and strong. I didn’t need much convincing. If God wanted my problems, and would actually give me forgiveness, grace, and mercy in exchange for my problems, well, I was all for it! You bet ya! Thank you God, and thank you Jesus for what You did to facilitate me to have this awesome relationship with my Creator.

However, my worldly problems were still there of course. There’s no magic wand that comes with faith and “poofs” your problems away. The good news is that you can put your faith into action and watch, yes watch, God work in your life. God’s grace makes his promises available, but your faith makes them possible. In fact, you must put your faith into action. I didn’t know that at the time, but Sarah was about to teach me.

When she told me what to do, I thought it was the silliest idea I’d ever heard. I probably laughed at her. Maybe not out loud, but certainly in my head. This idea was ridiculous. If I haven’t said so already, “I’m sorry for laughing, Sarah”.

Since Sarah had been listening to my woes for quite some time now, she told me to make a list. “Make a list of the top ten most impossible things in your life. Things you think you’ll never accomplish. Then pray about them. Everyday.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You’ll see, just trust me.” And since she hadn’t lead me wrong yet, I told her (after much complaining, I’m sure) that I’d do it. I had to trust her. She was all I had. Little did I know that at that very moment Sarah was sharing with me the most wonderful thing I’ve ever learned. Priceless. And if you, dear reader, have read this far, keep reading. You’re going to want to hear this.

It was the end of December. That night, in my dismal, lonely hotel room, I sat with a pen and paper and made my list. Despite how awful my life was, I could only come up with seven things I thought impossible. I’m much more creative now, but at that time, I didn’t realize the enormity of what was about to happen. I probably wasn’t too serious about the whole thing. Nevertheless, doing as Sarah said, I prayed about my list of impossibilities daily.

Some of the things on the list I can share with you. Others are really personal.

1. I want Mark and I to move out of this hotel we’ve lived in for two years and into an apartment.
2. I want to get a car. (Note: Mark was not working at the time, money was tighter than tight).
3. I want to reinstate my driver’s license and fix my tag so I could drive legally. (Note: Expensive!)
4. I want to marry Mark, in a church chapel, officiated by a pastor (not a notary). (Note: we weren’t even members of a church yet.)

So, those are a few things on my list. (The “notes” I added today for clarification). To me, these things all felt totally impossible, mostly because of financial circumstances. There were other things on the list that I might share one day.

So daily, I prayed. “God, I cannot do these things on my own. I need your help“.

To be continued…

OK, I know you hate “to be continued’s”, but I’ll give you a hint: within 9 months, everything on my list had come true in ways you’d never imagine. Ways only God could have come up with.

Please come back to read what happened next, because a series of unexpected miracles is fun to read about! You aren’t going to want to miss this, and I have a feeling some of you, yes you, might have been “in” on the miracles and not even know it.

Sunrises, Sunsets, and a Father’s Love.

Let’s talk about what got me back here writing again; it’s been a while.

It’s about yesterday. I could start this post off like Charles Dickens’ book A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”. Only yesterday was different because it was the best of days and the worst of days, but because of God in my life, there were two possible outcomes.

Yesterday started off like any normal day, waking at 5:45, on the road to work by 6:15. The joy of my two hour commute is seeing the sunrise, different every day, and presented to me by God. I take lots of pictures. It reminds me of when I was little, and my daddy used to stop the car so we could watch the sunrise. It never mattered if we were on the way to school, or he needed to get to work. He would pull over so we could watch the sunrise, even if just for a few minutes. We’d take in the beauty, the colors, and the majesty of it all. We knew we were loved by our daddy. Even if we were just happy about not getting to school so early – and you gotta give me a break here – my sister and I were young, that’s what kids get excited about, you know?

I bet at the time, 30-something years ago, my daddy had no idea how much this would mean to me as I grew up. Even now, as I write this, I’m teary eyed because, daddy, every time I see a beautiful sunrise, sunset, or sky full of stars, I wish I were watching it with you. Because I know that no one would enjoy doing that with me as much as you would.

I send pictures to my dad, but pictures don’t do a sunrise justice. Just like anything created by God, you can’t capture it. My camera can’t capture the beauty of a sunrise, and there’s no way to hold onto it like a balloon on a string, keeping it with you all day long. You have to experience it for yourself. See the glow of the rising sun, smell the fragrance of a beautiful flower, feel the breeze on your face during a hot day. God gifts these things to us because he loves us; because we are His children. Just like daddy gifted my sister and me a chance to stop and watch the sunrises. You have to experience God for yourself, no one can gift that to you, and even if they did, it wouldn’t be nearly as awesome.

Sunrise

On the way to work yesterday I ran into terrible traffic for miles. Literally 3 lanes crawling down the interstate; there was an accident right in the middle of downtown. Busiest section of the road. Waiting until the last possible moment, hoping not to have to, I finally sent my boss a text message that I was going to be late and why. He wasn’t happy. He’s an amazing lawyer and a businessman. He’s actually one of the best lawyers I’ve ever worked for. However, he hired me to do a job, which requires that I’m at work by 8:30. He doesn’t care how far away I live or if an accident is holding up traffic. He needs me at work by 8:30 to open the firm, among other things. Though I’m rarely late, when I am, the entire firm is affected. I get it. I understand. Someone has to answer the phones and do all the things I should be doing. Meanwhile, that someone is missing out on time to complete their own work. I know his reaction to me was not personal.

When my boss arrived to work, I asked him if I could talk to him (before he had a chance to call me into his office). No one wants to be called into the principal’s office, right? I wanted the upper hand, or to at least feel like I had it. I prayed before going into his office. We spoke. I left, and prayed some more. I told God that this was difficult, I was scared for my job, and upset because everyone was mad at me. I asked God to help me find a silver lining to this situation. I told God I did not want to stay angry, upset, fearful, sad, or worried. In fact, I made a decision right then to not be any of those negative things. To do that, I needed to focus on something positive. So God and I “collaborated” in prayer and came up with an awesome idea; or, rather, He came up with an awesome idea.

My “conversation” with God:

God: You know all that time you’ve been complaining about, Bree? Unable to write, unable to blog, or to even participate in the IF:Equip Bible Study you love so much, because you’re commuting for work so many hours per day, and don’t have internet at home? How about you leave home extra early, and when you inevitably arrive to work early, you can use that time to blog, or study the Bible, or read. You’ll be on time for work, and get your blogging done.

Bree: Yes! That’s a great idea, God! Instead of staying late after work to blog, I will do it in the mornings before work. Great solution! (God and I make a good team.)  🙂

Let me tell you that for the rest of the day I felt amazing! I felt like the favor of God was with me all day. It was as if I had a basket of blessings, one after another, that kept popping up. By the time I left work, I was in a great mood. I was so excited about starting to blog again.

I’d always wanted this blog to be my confession, and my testimony to the Glory of God and how Jesus has changed my life. I’d been feeling guilty for not writing, especially after getting all these followers and people who liked my writing and truly wanted to hear my story. I felt guilty about not continuing to tell my story of how Jesus was changing my life. God gifted me with the ability to write well, and I wanted to use it, I needed to. I want everyone to know the God I know. And I want to know Him even better, growing in my faith.

This lesson I learned – go to God first with my problems, and wait, with expectancy, for the right answer. What you learn will be with you for seasons to come. Certainly, I will need to do this again. Answers don’t always come right away, but they will come. His will will be done, and His will is always good for you. I felt so safe and warm. Surrounded by God’s army of love. It felt like the unconditional, unstoppable, unchangeable love that my daddy has for me.

How lucky am I? I have a Father in heaven making beautiful skies for me to see daily, and I have a daddy on earth who taught me to stop and enjoy the beauty God creates for us. Even though it wasn’t explained to me like that as a child because I wasn’t raised in Church, it’s completely relevant to my life now. I am so blessed. I am so loved. I am so lucky.

Thank you, daddy for teaching me how meaningful it is to stop and watch the sunrise.

Sunrise through the fog.

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Building my spiritual home.

This week on IF:Equip (www.ifgathering.com), we talked about the part of the Niceen Creed refering to scriptures. Scriptures are the fountain of my faith, and the foundation of the spiritual house around me. My spiritual home will have scriptures as the foundation, destiny doors that only God can open, walls of faith in action, and a roof built by sharing the good news of Jesus Christ with others.

Until I started participating in the IF:Equip Bible study about 3 years ago, I’d never read a word in the Bible. When I started reading the scriptures with that online community of women, I was scared I’d be shunned or at least ignored. But I wasn’t. I was loved and encouraged, and I made more virtual friends than I can keep up with. I’ve even met some of them in real life! Reading everyone’s thoughts and interpretations in the comments taught me so much.

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding” Proverbs 3:6

Leaning not on my own understanding, but praying for wisdom and understanding, I open my heart and let the scriptures come alive to me. And while the Word never changes, His words are charged with energy. That charge changes who I am and how I think. What other book does that?

I always pray for the Holy Spirit to help me understand what I’m reading and how to make it applicable to my life.

Sometimes I set out to read the Bible for a while, and after just a few sentences, I’m awe struck at what I’ve read, and read it over and over, having had some new revelation. Some days I just meditate on a line or two, or just one parable.

Today, when reading the lesson on IF:Equip I stopped at the words “God has written a book“. Wow, how exciting! If I’d read Jennie Allen had written a book, I’d be on Amazon placing my order right now. I would, I have. I have shelves full of books written by numerous Christian authors that I’ve never read. And you know why? Because I needed to read the Bible first. Yes, I really want to read all these books I have. I want to read what Jennie A., Amena B., Lisa T., Ann V, and so many others have to say. But what I needed to read first was the Bible, specifically because I was so new, and 36 years old, and needed to build the foundation of my faith that’s found in the scriptures.

And so they sit, unread, all those books. I’m going to get to them one day soon. It was my very wise friend, Sarah, that explained to me that I needed to build my foundation first. Those books are wonderful, but they are in addition to, not instead of, the Bible. And until I’m regularly reading my Bible, daily, and reading it over and over again, I don’t want to read the other books yet. Actually, what I mean is, yes, I want to read them, but it’ll be so much better to read those books with a good foundation in the most important book of all. The one God wrote.

I almost started Jennie Allen’s book “Anything”, and the study that goes with it, a while ago. I got the book. I signed up for all the emails and everything. Then I decided to wait. I needed to wait because my foundation was not yet solid. And I imagine Jennie’s book will be, for me and my spiritual house, a wall builder, or maybe a door frame from which I’ll hang my destiny doors.

Do you know how exciting it is to have a revelation while reading a scriptures you’ve read several times before? It’s awesome! The Bible, The word, is alive! It grows with me, revealing it’s meaning as I grow in my faith, and it keeps on giving and revealing new truths to me in different stages of my life. What other book does that?

The Bible, to me, is not just a book, but The Word of God printed so I can carry it with me and keep it close for reference and comfort. IT knows me because HE knows me. He reveals life truths to me through His Words. And though they do not change on paper, they change in my mind and heart each time I read them and discover something new. Can I call it simply a book? No. It’s His Words, truths I want ingrained in my heart and mind forever and ever. I feel that needs an “Amen!”

Lord, help me to build the foundation of my spiritual home by reading and understanding the scriptures. Holy Spirit, read with me and guide my mind to learn new things from scriptures I’ve read a dozen times before. My Bible is my foundation, and within the scriptures I find instructions on how to build my spiritual house, which, when storms come, will protect and shelter me. The scriptures lead me to action, faith in action, that frames the walls and lays the roof. And though I’ll never be done building my spiritual house, it’s a place I can go that’s filled with all I’ve learned. I can bring others there and share with them the good news and we can discuss the Word together and build new rooms. As I keep reading the scriptures, I can plant new seeds in my spiritual garden and watch them grow. I can share this harvest with others.

Would you like a flower from my spiritual garden? Guess what I learned today?

Lord, let my spiritual house shelter me in the storms. Let the storms water the seeds in my spiritual garden, to grow a great harvest of knowledge of the Word, Your Words, that I can share with others. Lord, let my spiritual house have destiny doors that lead me on my way to Your will. Doors that move. Sometimes they fling open with a gust of Your Breath and invite me to “go, Bree, this way, toward your calling“. But Lord, let Your Will always be done, and slam those doors shut in my face if they don’t lead me towards Your perfect Will for my life.

I trust You. My Lord, my Creator, my Heavenly Father, my Teacher, the architect of my life.

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IF this week: I can ascend too.

Amazing week studying the Nicene Creed with IF:Equip on the IF app. (See my post about how to get the app, it’s free!)

This week has “hope” written all over it! Hope is what I need. What do you need? You can find it in Jesus.

Knowing that Jesus chose to become fully man, and experience what I experience is amazing. Given the choice, would I do the same? Probably not, if I’m honest. Life, especially now, is hard. Keeping my focus on Jesus literally sustains me throughout the day. If not for Him, I don’t know how I could be me. I don’t know how I did it for 3+ decades without Him. I almost didn’t; choosing to give up too many times. Thank God I finally found Jesus. God has a purpose for me.

Jesus ascended into Heaven after conquering death. I can apply that to my daily life. I now know that through His strength, I can ascend above the trials of my day. I can ascend above pain, I can ascend above fear, I can ascend above worry and doubt. He is forever with me, in every situation.

Yesterday, after a bad morning I changed my attitude by literally thanking God for everything I could think of! (Thank you, God, that I can walk, thank you that I have clothes, thank you that the lamp turned on, thank you for my coffee, my job, my husband, my dog…. Thank you God.)

What a blessing coming to Jesus has been for me. After nearly ending my life years ago, to be saved by Grace is the most amazing feeling. To be forgiven my sins, all those things that haunt my mind daily; amazing. To be given a renewed dose of hope, grace and mercy each day, to be sustained through Christ Jesus; amazing.

I don’t even mind waking up too early, like today, because it’s just more time to spend with my Savior. Good morning Jesus!

And, even though there’s hope, if I were a betting girl, I know the odds are there will be difficulties today too. But I’m not alone anymore in my dark moments. In those moments, I draw near to Jesus and seek His face, God’s Word made flesh, to get me through. Amazing.

Sunflower grown from a single seed. Ascending toward Heaven, taller than I’ll ever be. Perfectly imperfect, just like me. Radiating beauty to all who see.

Part 4: Coming out of the dark.

When I ended Part 3 of this story, a few posts ago, I was losing myself and didn’t know how to stop. My life had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs. Not just downs, but pitfalls. Deep dark ones. Pits impossible to climb out of alone. I was stuck in the darkness I’d created for myself and I was terrified. I didn’t know what was happening to me mentally or physically. I was so scared and alone, or so I thought.

The year 2014 wasn’t just difficult, but deadening. I’d experienced a series of hardships that, at the time, I would have called tragedies. Today I recognize them as necessary. Perhaps one day I can write about them. Certainly they were life-altering, and something had to give.

What gave was me. I gave up.

For almost three decades I’d tried to do life on my own, without a spiritual reference point, but there I was completely lost and hardly able to breathe, let alone imagine how I’d take my next breath. Just making a decision to get out of bed, eat, or brush my hair was nearly impossible.

Then the unimaginable, unimaginable for me, happened. I gave God a chance. God, who previously was not a blip on my radar, suddenly became my sole focus.

So why God? I couldn’t tell you that. All I know is that I had no other ideas, nowhere else to go. I’d exhausted all other possibilities. I guess I was depressed. But I’d been depressed before and this was so much more.

I wasn’t just depressed, I was disappearing.

I didn’t grow up in church. I’d never read the Bible. In fact, all my life I’d said the Bible was just a fiction story written by men. I knew nothing about faith or Jesus. But I thought maybe, just maybe, I was missing out on something. If there was a God, maybe he would help me.

So how was I, the depressed atheist, going to find out about God? I wasn’t going to scrape myself up off the floor of my life and just go to church looking for Him. And so I thought about Sarah.

I knew Sarah in middle school and high school, and I knew her father was a pastor. In school we were best friends, though we hadn’t spoken in 20 years. I found her contact information on Facebook.

Then the night came, where in the darkness of my hotel room and the darkness of my mind, in between giant tears and great gasps for air, I called Sarah out of the deep dark blue.

She answered. She had time to talk. And I had one question. The second-best words I’d ever say;

“Tell me about Jesus”.

The first best words I’d ever say were yet to come. But as soon as I asked Sarah about Jesus the door to my heart was unlocked. The walls I’d built so high and impenetrable around me started crumbling. And soon, so soon, I would find a comfort like no other. Not in a friend, not in a family member, but in a Savior.

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The In Between

Imagine today, back then, with the disciples of Jesus. The day after. The day before. The in between time. The loss they were going through; feelings of sadness, anger, fear, and guilt.

They didn’t know, like we do, that the cross was not the end. He was their everything. They had to wonder and wait. What’s next? What do we do now? What’s left? The paralyzing numbness of it all.

This teaches me about faith. About following my Savior even though I can’t see the path; even though I can’t see Him. Moving, breathing, though you aren’t sure how, or even why, sometimes. I’ve felt that before. I know that feeling of being in between.

Have faith. Everyday. Even on the most difficult of days. Just take another step towards Him. The Cross is not the end. The Son will come up tomorrow.
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(Thanks to my friend, Kris K. for provoking my thoughts about today.)

I’ll Follow Him

On our way to someplace new, I followed along our Lord. But towering hills & valleys deep, laying down, I was floored. And so I cried out “wait Lord, don’t get so far ahead. I’m tired and cannot move forward”.

He said, “child gain your strength from me, I’ll go before you and clear a trail for you to pass more easily. I’ll move these mountains and valleys deep, if you’ll take one step toward Me. Trust in the path I’ve forged for you, and trust me with your steps. And when you can’t see Me through the fog, because I’ve gone so far ahead, keep moving in my way. I’m with you always, though seeming far, you will find me in your heart each day.

At the place I’ve gone to make for you, we’ll meet again and stay. The glory and the wonder will fill your eyes, not tears. And my peace will fill your heart with love, they’ll be no room for fears.

And so I trusted in my Lord, and to this day I do. Take the next step on the path that He has forged for you.

Ladies, IF you could, would you?

The @ifgathering community is now availabe 24/7 on your phone! We pray for a generation of women who disciple women. Beyond excited to be a part of this next step in meaningful, daily community. Download the free app here: ifgatheringapp.com.

And read my post below about my experience with IF:Equip and IF:Gathering, and how it changed my life. It was a big change. Reading the Bible for the first time.

*post and picture by IF:Gathering.

Part 3: The blessed darkness.

This is the hardest post I’ve written so far. This post, when written the first 3 times, included my family and my husband.

But I trashed all those drafts. This is my testimony. Mine. Not “ours”. I had to find a way to tell my story, which I’m so ready to tell, without disrespecting the privacy of the people in my life.

My mom introduced me to Mark around 2004 and we fell in love. I remember when he told me he loved me. I said “I love you too”, but he protested, saying “no! This is my time, I’m loving you right now”. He’s loved me that way ever since. Even when my moods and addiction made it difficult. He loved me despite me being me. I still don’t know what I did to deserve such a loving man. Not everyone saw that though, which is my fault. I was never really good at sharing myself, or my life, with family or friends. After all, I had a secret to hide, and my bipolar mood shifts didn’t help. So opinions of Mark suffered because of my selfishness. I’m so sorry for that.

Relationships are being healed now. Slowly but surely. I love my family and their willingness to just love purely. Despite mistakes and lies, despite time lost, my family has always loved me. They always will. I have no doubt about that. And for that, I know I am one of the lucky ones.

Mark & I moved in together, and lived in several cities, moving for jobs. At this time the economy was faltering and jobs were difficult to come by. But life was difficult for many reasons. Self inflicted reasons. Like razors taken to the goodness of the skin of my life, my poor decisions cut that goodness into bits and pieces.

One day I’ll be able to fill in these blanks. When I’m ready. When we’re ready.

I’m skipping a lot of years here because I haven’t figured out how to talk about those years yet as just my story. But I want to keep going so I can tell you about my Savior, and we’ve still got two years to go.

We landed in Jacksonville in 2012 for the best job I’ve ever accepted. I was so happy to be leaving home. Honestly, I was always happy to leave home. My life was so miserable there because of my poor choices. Choices which affected everyone I loved, and the guilt of which is so hard to let go of. I’m good at letting go of anxiety, fear, sadness. But guilt? Guilt is difficult to get rid of, to leave at the foot of the cross like I do with my other negative emotions. Guilt sticks like a stain in your head and heart that you just cannot get rid of. That guilt, is always in the back of my mind, and has seeped into the depths of my being. I carry this guilt of what I did to my family. Hopefully one day I will learn how to let that go.

Am I even supposed to let that go? Because I feel like I deserve to carry it with me forever.

After one month of working at that job I moved to Jacksonville to accept, I was fired. They never told me why. Shortly thereafter we were evicted from our apartment, which was always more expensive than we needed. We moved into a hotel. We thought it would be temporary, but it wasn’t. We lived there for almost two years.

And so here we are, the point in my story where, believe it or not, things start getting really difficult. I was spiraling downward faster and faster. Life actually got worse. Worse than the years I cannot talk about yet because they’re not just mine to tell. Worse than the years I spent in South Florida in a relationship with a serial cheater. Worse than threatening myself with suicide.

Things were about to get real.

What comes next are the darkest of days. Days when I didn’t know what I would do from one second to the next. Times so foggy that I could not see beyond the next second of life. When I didn’t know if there would even be life in the next second. It was so dark, I couldn’t see myself in the mirror anymore. It wasn’t really me I was seeing. My mind was failing, then my body started failing. It was scary and strange. For example, at work, I could not type as fast, my fingers were slower. Something was wrong with my neurological system. My whole body with being affected by the darkness in which I was dwelling.

I can now say that I now thank God for those days. The days full of prolonged seconds which seemed to last hours. Those millions of miserable moments spent alone in the darkness of my mind. I lost myself there. And although I didn’t realize it at the time, that was the best thing for me. I needed to lose myself before I could find God.

But like I mentioned, we’re still 2 years from that. I was still trying to fix things on my own. I hadn’t yet considered giving God a chance. God wasn’t a blip on my radar, or a thought in my head. Not yet. God was the furthest thing from my broken mind . Or so I thought.

God was there, but it would take a miracle 20 years in the making for me to see Him, and one question to one friend that would change everything.

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Part 2: “I was back.”

When we were last here I was sitting on the floor with a bottle of pills, a bottle of vodka, and my car keys. Like I said, I remember that night vividly. I was ready to get in the car and drive around drunk hoping something, anything, would happen. That’s just how bad I was, and how badly I wanted help, even if it meant jail or worse. I wanted help, but I didn’t want to ask for it.

But my dog, who I loved dearly, was sitting there on the floor next to me. If I got in my car and something happened to me, there would be nobody home to take care of my dog. I don’t why I stayed home, but I did. Maybe I never really planned on getting in my car after swallowing those pills with the vodka. Perhaps I was just threatening myself. Maybe my dog saved my life that night. Maybe something, or someone, else did. 

Shortly thereafter I called my mom and told her I needed to come home. I believe it was around New Years because that’s the only reason she had the time off from work. She told me that I could not bring my dog with me if I was coming to stay at her house. We went back and forth about that for a while. Finally, I gave in and said “if Pooky can’t come then I’m not coming either, never mind”. But the next day my mom came anyways. I packed all I owned into her car, and Pooky and I rode back home with mom.

It was a very difficult time, full of doctors appointments to properly diagnose me. They said I had bipolar disorder. I was prescribed every medicine under the sun until the doctors found something that helped.

At home I had to sign a “suicide note” promising my parents I would not hurt myself in any way. That’s how bad off I was. I was very depressed, very addicted, and going through withdrawals (which I hadn’t told anyone about at the time). I had no friends anymore where I lived. So month after month I sat my mom’s house taking my medicine and waiting to feel better. I was fighting to feel better, but there was such guilt. My little sister hated me. I know this because she told me, and rightly so. She had been home all those years I was gone. She watched what my disappearing from real life (because I’d become an addict) did to my parents. That was hard to think about, it still is.

Eventually my parents decided I was well enough have my car back, and I was well enough to get a job. A friend of the family got me a job at his business. I ended up working there for 5 years, it was a great job. 

I remember one day eating at a restaurant called Sonny’s with my dad. He sat across from me. I remember the exact table where we sat, near the front of the restaurant. I was facing in towards the restaurant, watching all the tables. He noticed me looking around, “people watching”. He was happy about it, and I couldn’t figure out why. He said I was so much more alert, wasn’t just staring into space as I had been for months. I was looking around, noticing things and people. “It’s like you’re back”, daddy said. 

I was “back”, the medicine was helping, and I wasn’t using illegal drugs. So I worked and made friends and started living a normal life. I was back … for a while. Then I left again.

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Part 1: Y2K didn’t change the world, but it almost killed me.

This is Part 1 of my testimony. There will be many more parts. I hope you’ll be back to read the rest because this story, though messy at times, ends beautifully in the arms of Jesus Christ.

The year 2000, is when it happened. I was living in South Florida, going to college, and working at Hooters. Yes, I was a Hooter’s girl for about 7 years. It was an awesome job at the time. I made tons of money; none of which I put to good use. Now stay with me here because it goes with the story: most people think that having large breasts are a requirement for working at hooters, but you’d be wrong. I didn’t have large breasts, though most of my friends did because they’d gotten breast augmentation surgery (that’s the nice way to say “boob job”).

I promise this is going someplace; please keep reading.

I decided to get a “boob job” too. Some of the girls I most admired at Hooters, the pretty ones, the cool ones, the ones I wanted to be like, were getting boob jobs. So why not me? I said it was for my self-esteem and happiness. However, in the background of my life there was my boyfriend (now EX-boyfriend, a man who I’d rather not talk about because he’s not worth it). He whispered in my ear his nicknames for my breasts: “droopy” and “floppy”. My self-esteem plummeted. So, did I get the surgery for myself, to inflate my self-esteem, or to inflate “droopy” and “floppy” for his sake? It doesn’t matter, that’s not the “thing” that happened – you know, that thing I mentioned in the first sentence of this post.

After the surgery, I was prescribed painkillers. Most people take painkillers and get tired or nauseous, but not me. Painkillers deceived me; they lied. They made me feel happy, cool, fun, strong, invincible, and confident. But truly, I was none of those things, and after some time, they made me addicted. My doctor kept prescribing them much longer than he should have, and after that I found a way to get them on the street. It was a dangerous and expensive endeavor.

So, sixteen years ago, I was 22 years old, 500 miles from home, and addicted to painkillers. My addiction got much worse, along with the rest of my life. I dropped out of school and left my boyfriend. I was very manipulative and promiscuous to get what I wanted, and “couch hopped” (which means I was homeless), until I ran out of money. Then I sat and tried to figure out how to end it all.

I remember that night vividly. Sitting on my friend’s living room floor around New Year’s Eve. She was away visiting family. It was a beautiful apartment, nothing I could afford on my own. I was alone, except for my beloved dog (pictured below). I was trying to figure out how to get help without actually having to ask for help. I came up with an idea. The idea involved a bottle of pills, a bottle of vodka, and driving until something happened.

Please come back for the rest of my testimony. I promise it’s an amazing story.

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My Shih Tzu, Pooky. My reason for staying alive that night.

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Awe and wonder.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to split my wondrous story of coming to Jesus into blog sized posts. It’s a difficult task because there are so many amazing things I want to tell you. So many epic ups and downs and moments that will steal your breath away. So today, I thought I would just start with the basics. What I’ve learned. The treasures I hold dear to my heart.

God’s love is indescribable. So why am I trying to describe God’s love here with mere words? This is my feeble attempt to express my awe and wonder at the Glory of my Savior. God loves you. No matter what you do or say, God loves you. Nothing can change that. God knows the answer to your question before you ask it. God has gone before you and solved your problems before you even know you have a problem. God knows what we need everyday, he knows what’s in our hearts and our minds. He provides for us every minute of every day. So I thank Him. I praise His name and I’m sharing my story to bring glory to God for saving my life.

The only thing I could possibly compare it to is the love that my earthly daddy has for me. My daddy’s love is undeniable, unconditional, uncompromising, and never ending. So is God’s love.

God’s love is never ending. He waited for me, watching over me, day after day, year after year, until I finally opened my eyes and saw Him. Even during the years when I didn’t love Him, when I was denying Him and saying blasphemous things, He loved me. He never gave up on me. And that, friends, is exactly what my daddy does for me.

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God heard me.

Last night was very stressful. Mark and I are concerned about something important we have to decide.

I emailed my pastor late last night, explained the problem and humbly asked for help from the church. I hate asking for help, no matter the situation. I’m very independent and do not like asking people for anything. However, I decided to go ahead and email my pastor to let him know what was going on, it just seemed like a good idea at the time. He wrote me back almost immediately.

My heart was filled with joy as my eyes overflowed with tears when reading his response. To me, his email was a confirmation that God had heard my prayers. His response didn’t offer any immediate  solution to my problem,  but it let me know that God was listening. Not that I didn’t think God was listening before, but to have a sign like that, the email from my pastor, was so special to me.

I told him how I felt, that his response was a joyful and exciting realization that God heard me. My pastor said he rarely checks his email, especially his work emails, from home that late at night. He mentioned that maybe the Holy Spirit led him to check his email and find my message.

God is so good. He hears our prayers and knows our needs before we even speak them. When praying, I always thank God for listening. It’s such a special thing that Jesus did for us, giving us a way to communicate with our father in heaven.

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Philppians 4:6

The best decision I almost never made.

She said “you should join this online Bible study called IF:Equip“.

I respond “me, a Bible study? I’ve hardly ever even opened a Bible. What good would this do me? What would I have to offer? I’d be a kindergartner in a college class. No, I can’t do that.”

She kept encouraging me. I kept saying “no”. I said no 10,000 times (approximately) before I finally said “OK”, and I signed up for the online Bible study IF:Equip – http://www.ifequip.com.

I get one email a day with scripture to read, a short video to watch, and a place to leave comments.

I thought surely these Christian women, who had been raised in church, would laugh at me and scoff at my lack of knowledge. But they didn’t. They welcomed me with warm virtual hugs, positive and uplifting words, advice, explained the confusing things and helped me. The accepted me. They took me in like one of their own despite my flaws, my age, and my sins. I had become a sister in Christ. 

I credit IF:Equip with bringing the Bible alive and relevant to my life. I am blessed, daily, with the women I spend each morning there with discussing the scriptures and life in general. We lift each other and pray and share our stories. It’s amazing!

I miss it on the weekends. I’ve made so many new friends through that site that I cannot keep track. When I first accepted Jesus, I had one Christian friend, now I have hundreds. A God given gift. And to think I almost didn’t join the site.

Right now I’m in the process of trying to retrieve my posts from the site because they chronicle my life as I came to know Jesus. They are like gold to me and I wish I’d written them in a journal instead of on an online site that can be changed; losing my posts forever.

If you’re a woman, and you haven’t joined IF:Equip yet, please do. You won’t regret it. In fact, for me, it was the best decision I almost never made.

Right now I’m trying to go back and retrieve my posts all the way back to when I started in December 2013. I’m doing this to help me remember what I was learning, feeling, and going through, during my budding relationship with Jesus. Priceless words, comments and advice from other readers. I’d like to use them to add to this blog.

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IF changed my life.

The scenic route.

Now that I’ve got this blogging thing down, I’m ready to go back to the beginning. Back before I knew anything about Jesus or God or the Bible.

I’m going to go back to when I was living a miserable life. Back when I thought I was in control. The truth, however, was that I was spiraling downward faster than anyone could keep up with. I kept trying this fix, or that fix, for my many problems, but nothing worked because I was looking in all the wrong places.

I know now that the things I was looking for were all of this world. They were sinful and all they did was make me miserable, sad, scared, dishonest, lonely, unhealthy, and probably almost killed me.

Today, I truly believe those decades I spent living like that were for a reason: to bring Glory to God by sharing my redemption story with you here. Hopefully, I can also share the courage and love I gained from developing a relationship with Jesus Christ.

So stay tuned, friends. This is going to be a bumpy ride, but we’re taking the scenic route. There are plenty of miracles to enjoy along the way, and an unbelievable fairy tale ending.

(Hint: The girl gets her Prince!)

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“Tell me about Jesus”

I’d been alive for thirty six years.
Exploring this world, the joy and the fears. The ups and downs, the good and the bad. But when you depend on yourself, that’s all you have.
My family loves me, they did all they could, but what I was missing, was not found in this world.
Then came the day I just couldn’t bear what was missing from life, I’d looked everywhere.
Thinking I was alone, and wouldn’t survive, a call to a friend is what saved my life. “Tell me about Jesus”, I asked, with a cry. “I’ve been thinking, I’d like to give Him a try”.
And with that I realized I wasn’t alone, behold Jesus, my Savior, was there in the room. He’d always been there, He said,
waiting for this day, that I’d notice His presence and ask Him to stay.
I cried and laughted, He was filling my heart. Now Jesus and I won’t ever part.
The difference between living and eternal life, is the written Word, which is truly alive.
I’m not living for me, I never was. Alive without Jesus is only death with a buzz.
He died for my sins and my sorrows alike, and now lives in my heart; that’s eternal life.
And when my body can no longer sustain, I’ll be living in heaven with my Savior, My King.

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My friend, Sarah.

Stepping out in faith.

This is the first Sunday I’m going to church after starting my blog. I’m excited, but I’m mostly scared to talk to people at church about my blog.

On one hand I have this awesome testimony to give that I’ll be writing in future posts. Full of ups and downs, sins and sorrow, and fear and the search for faith. My testimony is full of amazing coincidences that are so clearly God at work in my life. In my story, God turns impossible into possible.

On the other hand I’m scared of being judged because of my past. The church is full of hurting people. They say that hurting people hurt people. I love my church and have good connections to the people there. However, I’m also shy, and don’t participate as much as I could. I pray that my story helps me connect with others and encourages others to share their stories too. By sharing our stories we are bringing glory to the name of God and connecting with one another.

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He loves unconditionally.

For my husband, Mark, who unconditionally supports me in this endeavor, I want to say thank you. I love him so much. Marriage is a covenant, not a contract. Marriage is dreamy and difficult at the same time. But if we keep focusing on God at the head and heart of our marriage, and loving each other unconditionally, as God loves us, we will succeed. Thank you, Mark, for being part of my messy story, for never giving up on me, and supporting me in all I do.

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Surrendering my box of problems.

One of the first things I noticed after accepting Jesus into my heart was a decrease in my anxiety, which used to be so bad. I’d get panic attacks weekly. But having Jesus to turn to with my problems and knowing He understands because He lived it, has reduced the severity of my anxiety. And that was just the start. As my faith grows, I watch how Jesus uses the pieces of my life for good. I’m able to help others, which is something I’d never thought I could do. I thought I was worthless, unable to be any good to anyone. But letting Jesus in changed all that.

It’s so freeing. Jesus freed me of my old life that was scary and hopeless, and He has given me a new purpose. Imagine having all your problems in a box you carry around daily, it’s heavy and you really want to put it down. Well now I can put my box of problems down, at the foot of the cross, because of Jesus.

I close my eyes and visualize myself taking my box of problems, placing it at the foot of the cross, and accepting the peace that only God can provide. Jesus is my shelter, my purpose, and my friend. He will never leave me.

To think about Jesus sacrificing His life so many years ago for me is almost unimaginable. He is forever in my heart, and my purpose in life is to share His story, and mine, so that it might help someone else open their hearts to Jesus.

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The before, the after, and the Savior

My story has two parts.

The first part is scary, filled with debilitating fear caused by poor choices that lead to a life of addiction, depression, loneliness, homelessness, and despair. I was just trying to stay alive, but I was doing it wrong. I was making all the decisions, all the rules, and thought I was in control.  So despite a great childhood and amazing parents, I ended up wrecking my life.

The second part of my story started in 2013, at age 36. That’s when God completely turned my life upside down (because apparently I didn’t realize the wreck that I was already) and I realized that I was not in control and I needed help. I wasn’t raised in church and didn’t know anything about God. But in that moment, when my life was wrecked, I knew I needed him.

So how does an atheist find out about God?

That’s what this story will be about. It’s too long of a story to tell just one blog post. So I’ll try to break it up, and on some days I’ll just write about my daily life and how God helps me to get through tough times and celebrates with me the in good times.

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I have a blog!

I’ve been thinking about writing this blog for months. I kept making up excuses like I didn’t have time, I don’t know how to write a blog, everyone else is doing it, or I’m too shy and scared to tell my story. (I was so scared, in fact, I warned my parents that I was going to do this!) It should be said that I have the best parents in the world. The path I took in life is not their fault. They did the best they could with me. I truly believe I was meant to live the life I did for so long before meeting Jesus. If I hadn’t, this story wouldn’t be as amazing as it is.

I wasn’t just thinking about writing a blog, I was praying about it. For months, I prayed for a way to tell my story of coming to Christ at age 36 and how it saved my life. I wonder how many times God replied “write a blog” before I listened? My whole life was a big scary mess until I met Jesus. This blog will be the story of how I got from there to here, peppered with tales of my daily struggles and victories, and how I choose to look for God in every situation, good or bad. Because He’s there, but you have to look for Him, and you have to expect to find Him.

We can start today with the blessing of this blog coming to fruition. Last week, it was just an idea I’d played around with and shown a few close friends to ask for their opinions. Then one special lady, Tracy P., offered to help me make this blog look great, and she did. She’s a loving friend, giving and kind, and I can’t wait to meet her in real life one day!

In the mornings, which is about 4:30 a.m. for me, I start my day with an online bible study, IF:Equip. (There’s a whole story about that too, about how it almost never happened). This bible study was the catalyst that made my fire for the Lord burn brighter than this former atheist could have ever imagined! I’ve been doing it everyday for over two years. The ladies there are my friends, my teachers, my confidants, and a blessing, each one of them. So I’m going to go do that, and I’ll see you back here often. God bless.

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Join me at http://www.ifequip.com.

Do I have any God given gifts?

Before coming to know Jesus, I was selfish, self centered, and manipulative; always trying to change people to get what I wanted, and I was good at that. I was terribly shy with a very poor self image. I believed all of these things about myself, because I saw no worth in myself. All I ever did was hurt people in one way or another. Sure I’d try to make my parents happy, I got good grades in school, but behind their backs I was lying a lot. It was like a show I was putting on for them. I called it “putting on my happy face” to please someone and get what I wanted. But I was not ever truly happy.

A few years ago God allowed my life to be turned upside down. I was broken and alone. I hit rock bottom. The people who came to my aid were the same people who loved me despite all the things I’d done to them: my family, my fiance, and one friend.

As my life improved and I came to know Jesus, I wondered what good is there in me? How can I bless others when I can’t even see any good in myself? What do I have that could help anyone? Who wants what I’ve got? How can I encourage someone else?

Well, I’ve got Jesus, and that’s a great place to start.

This endeavor, writing a blog, is extremely scary and outside of my comfort zone. I’m going to be opening up and sharing things that are very personal.

However, my heart tells me that it’s the right thing to do, that by doing this I’ll be glorifying God by writing about how He was in every situation I ever went through, and how now I can see God in all aspects of my life, good and difficult. I want others to know that despite their situations, they are never alone.

Jesus is always there. He always has been, and always will be. We just have to open our eyes and hearts and let Him in.

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Jacksonville Beach, FL

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Did you read my mind?

This morning on IF:Equip, the online Bible study I do, they asked the question “What is God calling you to do?”

Well, just last night I decided I would go ahead and start writing this blog I’ve been praying about for months. I feel like God is telling me I made the right decision.

Yes, I will write this blog and share my terribly messy story that has more than a fairy tale ending. It ends with me being saved by Jesus. This blog will point to Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I will give all the glory to God. This blog isn’t about me, my problems, or my past. It’s about how I was saved, and how Jesus is with me in my everyday life. 

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To blog or not to blog

I’ve been wanting to write a blog for some time now. I guess it started when people kept asking me about my story of coming to Jesus. It is a good story I think. It started just three years ago, when I was 36. My relationship with Christ is still so new and fresh and freeing. I love it. It’s like I’m on a honeymoon with Jesus. So happy, even through the hard times. So loved, even when I’ve let myself or someone else down.

So I’m trying to decide, and have been praying over, whether or not to write a blog. I know nothing about blogs.I even dislike the word “blog”!

I’ve been asking my friends if they will read it. Actually, I’ve been saying “you will read it”.

So today is Sunday and I’m up way too early. But that’s OK. I enjoy the extra time to contemplate the day ahead, and be with God in prayer.

Would you read my blog?

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Decisions, decisions.

My name is Bree. I’m seriously thinking about starting a blog about my coming to Jesus at age 36. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m just trying this out tonight, and plan to get some help soon.