I've spent weeks, err... months, trying to introduce myself in the perfect blog. I had envisioned this clean design that looked like a professional created it, with this well crafted description of myself and my vision for my blog along with carefully selected photos that illustrated all of the points. Then my mom got sick, we got hit with snow storms, we were short handed at work, my design wasn't compatible with the host site, and I was struggling to find the pictures I needed to fill the spaces.
It wasn't until I was in the shower one day that I decided if I was waiting for perfection I would never get past the introduction to write what was really on my heart. After all, through the weeds means getting past the things in life that keep you knocked down or busy and finding beauty in them.
Writing has always held a special place in my life. It's where I find myself. It's where I think, and feel, and grow. It's the place I turn when the things I need to say, can't be spoken. So I set up little spaces like this- in hopes that while I grow myself, others can come along and grow with me.
My problem comes when I put formats and expectations on myself that are unrealistic. I start a pattern that I cannot keep up with. I always go deep, so I can never put up the lighter side of life. There is only room for one passion. Nobody wants to read something all over the place. Etc... And I know the only person who really expects it is, well, me. So, in an effort to utilize what I already have, it's time I redefine this space.
As human beings, we are never just one thing. We are constantly changing and evolving, moment to moment, around the situations and circumstances of our lives.
So... this is me... I am a 26 year old 911 dispatcher from East TN. I have spent most of my life within an hour of a major city (from Chicago, Knoxville, and Atlanta... even short stints in New York) It has instilled in me a love of travel, road trips, and state sign species. All 50 states are on my bucket list.
I am a major foodie who tries to be healthy. I like to try all different cuisines and styles of eating. But I've really thrived on paleo. I'm an unofficial gym rat. I work out 6 days a week between running, Barre, kickboxing, yoga, and weightlifting. I'm all about #healthyisthenewskinny and feeling graceful and powerful in the gym.
I grew up a city girl, but I love to get out and ride whenever I can. I even learned to saddle my own horse this year. And you will rarely find me without a camera (the background is one of mine!). I also can't wait to try my hand at rock climbing again. I love to try new things, even when I have to talk myself into them.
I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, fairy godmother, and most of all a God-lover. I enjoy my life being liked, loved, and known by God and giving it all back to Him.
My heart is for the broken. Those who struggle with disease, addiction, mental illness, depression, and eating disorders. I hope to one day go back to school for counseling and nutrition, so that I can help these people who have my heart.
I wandered through a lot to get to this place. I still struggle to fight through the list of medical diagnoses I have. But I am believing for healing. And I will praise Him regardless.
If any part of this resonates with you, stick around. I hope each time you come back you will find something new as we do life together.
This photo was taken from the pages of my "To Write Love On Her arms" (TWLOHA) calendar. I posted it to my social media page a few days ago with this caption:
"Here's the thing about stories... They are never just you own. The people in your life become a part of yours and you become part of other people's stories. So be courageous... Share your story... It may be the thing that propels someone forward; maybe the thing that give someone else purpose."
We all have different stories. We all have different parts to our stories. And we all have different people for each part of our story. This is my story, my journey that led me to walk into the dark caverns of disorders, depression, and suicide; my path to a community longing for healing and hope. These are the people that intercepted my story.
It was a Sunday in sixth grade, when I felt that first impact. I don't even remember the details of the day. All I remember is the tears on so many faces. This sweet 18 year old guy from our church had hung himself. I couldn't process it, couldn't compute. When was the last time I saw him? I know our age gap kept us from being close, but... he was fine... wasn't he? I didn't understand why the hurt went so deep. I had friends from school who cut and threatened suicide, but it never felt like this. The funeral was gut wrenching. There were so many people there, and I found myself talking to him for the first of many times, "If only you could see this, if only you knew how many people cared". I found myself thinking this again when I made my way to the open casket. The mortician had done their best to cover it with make-up and a turtleneck, but you could still see the dark bruising around his throat. I cried for him. For his family. For those of us who didn't understand, and maybe never would. Still, I've probably asked him, and myself, "Why" a thousand times over the years.
The next blow would come when I was 15, just a week before Christmas. Looking back I should have seen it coming. For the first time maybe ever, I felt like a normal teenager. It felt like any time not at school was spent with friends or my (FIRST) boyfriend! Life felt pretty good after a rough few months. That week felt crazy as I was preparing for finals and going out of town for the holidays. I knew I was coming down with something so I went to bed early. And then the phone rang... It was an estranged friend that I had been fighting with. I didn't have the energy to deal with her so I tried to brush her off and hang up the phone. Until I heard the words "She killed herself". Later, I would realize, she had actually said, "She tried to kill herself". However at that point all the air was already out of my lungs. It felt like someone was drowning me for all the pressure in the room. The "she" was my best friend. She had cut so much, the only way to hide it was wearing long sleeves year round. She had mentioned suicide before, but never a specific plan. I wanted to find her help and tell her mom, but she swore to me she was getting counseling. I had promised I wouldn't say anything. Plus she had been singing in a hairbrush with me the day before. She was doing FINE! But she wasn't fine... That night I cried more than I ever had before. I still thank God for the random person who found her in the bathroom. I remember the call from the psych ward, where she took her mother's phone and called our friend (her mom didn't have my number) and when she found out I was there would only talk to me. When we realized it would be several days before she was released from the hospital, we finally made our way home. I talked to my boyfriend on the way home as he tried to rationalize and analyze what had happened; as he tried to calm me down. As I hung up the phone around midnight, the bug that had crept up on me earlier in the night combined with the shock and stress of the evening finally got to me. I found myself vomiting for over 12 hours and stayed home alone that day. After that, the fear that set in refused to let me be alone. For the next week I walked around as a zombie, blaming myself, angry at others for not saving me from the nightmare I was in. Nothing else in life mattered. She left the hospital the day before I was set to leave for the holidays. To say I was irate was an understatement. I didn't want to leave her. Nothing else mattered but her health and safety. They still made me go. The one positive note to her hospital stay... Her depression was caused by a thyroid problem. She would be okay... someday. Maybe we all would...
And this is the part of the story that gets hard for me... I don't talk about it much. In fact one of my closest friends just heard it for the first time yesterday. After my friends suicide attempt I fell apart. The false sense of security I had just blew up. I broke up with my boyfriend and blamed myself for not being able to save my friend before this nightmare. Over the next few months, I found myself in my own dark depression. I had lost hope and felt very alone in this world. So I began making lists of the least messy ways to end my life. Finally, I decided it was time; I was tired of feeling alone. But something in me wasn't ready. I decided to give God 1 hour. I told him if He really cared someone would call me before the time was up, because the phone hadn't rang in months. I was tired of the darkness and the loneliness consuming me. That time was almost up when I heard my phone ring. It was a friend from school I hadn't heard from in a while. I lost my breath, after begging God for a call I was speechless. I managed to squeak out the words, asking if I could call her back later. And I dropped to my knees crying. That was the moment I told him I was HIS. He could have all of me. And I haven't looked back since.
My heart breaks for anyone struggling with depression. It's isolating and scary. While these stories are the ones that stick out, there are several more like them. I have stood with people and done my best to be "the living, breathing, screaming invitation to believe in better things". And I will be yours if you need it.
That 18 year old's family still mourns him. They wish for him in the special moments. My best friend, who never thought she would live to see her 20's, is now a wife and a mother; something she never thought would happen and something I dared to hope for. And me, I find my peace in God and helping others, in letting them know that there is light past the darkness. Depression is a funny thing. It doesn't have just one cause and it doesn't feel the same for everyone. Sometimes it feels binding, like chains keeping you from life. Sometimes it is numbing, like your stuck at the bottom of a wet cave. Still sometimes it is terrifying, like being out on a limb... afraid if someone steps out onto it to throw a lifeline it was break beneath you. If you or someone you know if contemplating suicide, please seek help. If someone asks you to keep their secret... don't. No matter the threats, no threat can be worse than losing them forever when they decide to end their life.
Today is World Suicide Prevention Day which coincides with National Suicide Prevention Week. The theme this year is "We'll See You Tomorrow". And I will see you tomorrow because:
No one else can play your part.
I will be your living, breathing, screaming invitation to believe in something better.
People Matter.
I won't quit fighting for and along with those I love.
I will take your hand and run toward hope.
I believe in the possibilities!
"If depression is the verse, than hope is the chorus"
Please take the time to check out TWOLHA and visit their Find Help page. They are a great source of encouragement and direction.
Today is supposed to be a special day. Normally we celebrate this day like a second birthday for me. Three years ago, I had surgery to remove a brain tumor. Until a month before I was a healthy twenty-something year old woman. I should be dead. At least that's what the surgeon said. I'm very lucky to be alive. However, this year it's a little bittersweet...
This past week I was given the results to a second set of blood work. My doctor assured me that the first test was probably just a fluke, but we would run it again to be sure. It was not a fluke. I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder called Mixed Connective Tissue Disease (MCTD). My body is attacking itself and there is little I can do about it other than ride this flare up until it's over. It's been a few days and I'm over the initial shock, but I'm hurting and frustrated. This is usually the time of year where I celebrate my health, and instead I'm taking extra medication trying to find it again.
I keep thinking about cockle burs. You know those little balls of weeds that stick to you? They don't hurt at first; you don't even know they are there until something pushes against them and drives them further into you. Although they definitely hurt trying to get them off.
That is how I feel about this diagnosis. It's been there for a while. I've felt it a few times, usually when stress comes by and drives it in. And now I notice and I'm hurting. But I don't want to claim this in my body. I've lived through several things that should have killed me, or at least stopped me in my tracks, yet they haven't. I serve a God who has many names. One of them is Jehovah Rophe, the Lord my healer.
"He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. " - Isaiah 40:29
As much as I know this is in my body, I serve a bigger God than any disease. I don't want to claim this. I am claiming healing. I will be okay. I will get through this. I will shake the burs that are trying to stick to me.
It's been a while since I posted anything anything. I didn't realize how long until today. It's not that I didn't have anything to say or that I didn't try to write; the words were just not coming together and the timing just didn't feel right. And maybe I went inside myself a little bit.
If I'm honest, I will say I was hiding. I have this tendency when I am stressed, sick, or depressed to hide from everyone; I hide from the people who know me the best, especially God. A few weeks ago, I was struggling with all of this. I was having some problems at my job which was stressing me out. Usually when I am stressed I work it out at the gym, but I couldn't get through a ten minute workout without struggling to breathe. I stopped working out. I stopped talking at work. I stopped reaching out to my friends. I stopped being open with God. I had a million excuses and reasons why it was okay, but the truth is I was hiding because I didn't want to be seen as less than my best. I didn't want anyone to know that I didn't have everything together. If they really wanted to know, they would have to find me.
When kids are little, they learn to play hide-and-seek. They purposely hide and wait for someone to come find them. Most of the time this is fun. But sometimes there comes this point where you've been hiding for so long and you haven't been found, you don't know what to do. If you come out, you lost; but what if they give up seeking you?
And that's where I was at. I knew I wasn't alone in my hiding. My brain searched for people who knew where I was at, who knew this feeling I was experiencing. My thoughts turned to Adam and Eve in the garden:
"8 Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden.9 But the Lord God called to the man, 'Where are you?' 10 He answered, 'I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.' "
No one wants their weaknesses to be exposed. Which is why when I feel broken inside, I run from it. I try to cover myself up so no one can see my cracks and flaws. When the truth is that is when I need to come clean and open myself up the most. But I'm stubborn... Thankfully God uses my friends to call me out, even when they don't realize it. In the midst of my bitterness my friends called me, persistently. And I am a bad liar.
I'm not a fan of the middle finger either, but I'm thankful for friends who walk with me and pray for me.
When I was in MC, I went through a similar period like this and I found this verse:
"Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God— soon I’ll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He’s my God." Psalms 42:5 MSG
I painted this verse and have kept this visible in my room for over four years now. During this last period, I made myself read it every morning when I woke up and every night before I went to bed. I reminded myself that I had been here before. That the sunlight was just around the corner and one day soon I would be able to unfold myself from behind this bush.
So if you've found yourself in a funk or wanting to hide, know this:
1) You are not alone
2) It will NOT be FoReVeR, even though it feels that way at the time.
3) Fix your eyes on God, he'll put the smile back on your face!
I am now (mostly) on the other side of this funk and (mostly) feeling better. And I'm ready to write again. I have a few things lined up and will (hopefully) be posting them in the next few weeks.
Yesterday I wrote a post with this same title. I deleted it. It was contrived and forced and not entirely honest. I don't want to write just to fit a format or to spin a story. If I truly want to glorify God, I have to be honest in my faults and flaws.
When I started thinking about the post I had wanted to write yesterday, the word thorns kept popping in my head. You know those pesky little things on beautiful flowers... the ones that make you yelp when your finger finds them!
In my first post I mentioned that I had major surgery. One of the side effects from said surgery is that whenever it rains I get migraines. They have prescribed me medications to help, but both the storm and the headache were severe. So severe my lips were numbing and my hand was clenching. I was home alone and my medication wasn't helping. At some point, I briefly started crying in pain and frustration. I was a mess. I didn't ask for any of this and it was all out of my control.
Then, in the midst my despair, I heard this still small voice remind me that his power was made perfect in my weakness.
"Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.9 But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' ” - 2 Corinthians 12:7-9
My physical battle was taking up uninvited space in my mind. His grace would get me through. That's not to say that I instantly switched into spiritual mode and instantly felt better. It took me repeating this verse a few times for peace to return. The physical pain was still there. But the overwhelmed feeling had eased.
I hope the next time it rains, that I will remember this verse. That I won't freak out and get upset. But if I'm honest, I'll say I'm human and the odds are this won't be the last time I have this conversation with God. Facts are, my surgery was something that saved my life, but the side effects have been a thorn in my side. I have to choose to accept that his power will cover my weakness.
The deeper colored flowers, I believe, are primrose. I was picking the sweet peas and saw them. I cut them off and was holding them in my hand. That's when I noticed the thorns. They pricked my hand. The thorns caused momentary pain, but they brought beauty in my room for more than a week.
Weeds... They can be pests. They come in and choke up the things that
grow around them. They demand time and space and light. Never just one,
they are everywhere!
In life we are often confronted with weeds. Those times where life feels ugly and hard. When something unexpected knocks you down and feels like it will never let you get up again. Where we feel stuck or broken or confused. Or all of the above. Maybe even more than one at time. In those moments, life can feel like it will never be right again.
For me it was growing up without a dad...
My best friend attempting suicide...
An eating disorder...
Leaving Master's Commission (a discipleship/internship program) before the scheduled time...
But here's the thing. Things do get right again. You find your way through. The sun comes out again. And you persevere. And when you look back you realize that God turned all that pain into something beautiful. In hindsight I can see all the blessings that came from all that pain.
I have an amazing mom who loves me and several men who stepped into my life to be my dads.
My friend lived. 10 years later, she's a wife and a mom. We found TWLOHA. And last week I went to an amazing event to support it's founder.
I got healthy. I learned how to love myself and help others love themselves. I found I love the gym and love to learn how food can make us strong.
And when I was lost, leaving MC, it took 2 years to discover that the reason I came home was so that I would be in the right place at the right time when I needed major surgery.
And that story has led to another story, which will turn into another story, and another...
About a month ago, I went with my friend to see her horses. She had some
work to do, but she set me loose to count the horses and check for
healthy grass. I pointed out that there was grass and even flowers all
over the place. The truth was, as my friend explained, those "flowers"
growing all over the place were actually weeds. There seeds had been
planted and spread and grown. But I didn't know what they had been
through, I didn't know that what I was currently seeing as beautiful
yellow flowers were actually weeds. Time had passed, they had bloomed,
they had turned into something new...
One of my favorite verses is found in Psalms 61:3
"and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor."
Or a weed into a flower...
I went back to the farm the day after (6/7/15) I originally wrote this post... Look what I found! Some wild daisies!!!
Today is my 26th birthday. I feel like that age is too young, yet not old enough. This is usually the 2nd point in the year I sit back and reassess my life and my goals. I've had the urge to write again. To try new things. To have adventures and explore. To wade my way through the muck and the grime, and find something meaningful. I asked myself what I wanted this year to look like; and what I came up with is that maybe this year, would be a year full of finding beauty in through the weeds.
