2K16

2016 was a great year. While I could reminisce for paragraphs about the many highs and lows of the past 12 months, I thought instead to reminisce about all that the Lord taught me this year. 

1.     Things are never as bad as they seem. 

"For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime! 

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning."

Psalm 30:5

      After my family went on a trip to NYC in January, I drove from Austin-Bergstrom to Baylor in tears. I wouldn't see my family again for what felt like ages, my fiancé was in another country on a mission trip, I was going back to a school where I felt out of place, and I had no idea what to expect in the new semester. I sobbed as I drove away from my family and one of the best vacations ever because I was terrified of the unfamiliar. There was no way I could have known that I would meet half of my bride tribe that semester in a Bible Study I forced myself to go to. There was no way I could have known that I would solidify friendships that were barely formed when I left for Christmas break. There was no way I could have known how much I would grieve the loss of Baylor just three months after transferring out. My perspective at the beginning of that season was dim and bleak because I was allowing myself to be guided by my own doubt and fear rather than my God's hope and joy. 

2.     Rest is good. 

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Philippians 4:6-7

      This lesson came hard at the beginning of the school year, when nearly all of my friends at Baylor joined sororities and couldn't spend as much time with me as they had before. I was crushed. Just as I had settled into freshman year, everything changed all over again. It was a miracle if I could find someone to eat dinner with on a Monday night. My days were long and empty, while everyone around me was spinning in a thousand directions. I beat myself up because everyone seemed to be busier than me, had more tasks to accomplish and more friends to meet up with. I grew weary with the ample free time my days held. Eventually, I realized that there was no point in feeling guilty for having free time. I can confidently say that those days of emptiness brought me closer to the Lord and enabled me to discover myself in a way that many of my peers didn't have the time to do. I had so much free time, in fact, that I was able to take hour-long walks every Sunday night around campus. As the sun set, I would listen to podcasts and decompress from whatever stress had accumulated the week before. My life was beautifully slow that semester, and I wouldn't sacrifice a single moment of peace for an enhanced resume. 

3.     Comparison is the thief of joy. 

"Yes, the body has many different parts, not just one part. If the foot says, 'I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,' that does not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear says, 'I am not part of the body because I am not an eye,' would that make it any less a part of the body? If the whole body were an eye, how would you hear? Or if your whole body were an ear, how would you smell anything? But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it."

1 Corinthians 12:14-18

      This is a lesson that everyone, especially women, struggle with throughout their life, and the Lord truly hammered this truth to my soul this summer serving as a camp counselor. I was a seasoned expert when it came to comparing myself to other women physically, but was entirely unprepared for comparing myself to other women's inward beauty. At camp, I was surrounded by women who were strikingly different from me in the best way; women who were more mature, friendlier, more responsible, more flexible, more humble, more artistic, and more social than me. If you've ever felt like everyone has a clique or a best friend except for you, then you can imagine how I felt. My personal insecurities caused me to believe that those who were different from me were somehow better than me. Other counselors seemed to be so much more popular with campers, befriended more counselors, or created more beautiful signs and decor than I ever could. I failed to see that I brought gifts and opinions to the table that others could not, and I separated myself from others because of it. My pride got in the way of sacrificing my own comforts to alleviate other people's burdens, which was practically the mission statement of camp. Christ did not compare himself to other figures and teachers, he just did what the Father told him to do. Jesus may have been the center of attention during his three years of ministry, but that attention didn't stop his crucifixion.

4.     Expectations are the root of disappointment.  

"It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man."

Psalm 118:8

      This statement has been repeated by my best friends for the majority of the year, as we've lamented the conflicts that arise after an expectation goes unmet. Every relationship, even your relationship with yourself, suffers conflict after one party fails to meet another's assumptions. I've learned that the best way to walk into each day is one step at a time, not checking the map for what's ahead, but just matching my pace to my breath. As someone who LOVES to plan ahead, this has been a major challenge, but I have never been disappointed less than when I capture my expectations. I look to the Lord to satisfy me, and try to love those who cross my path. When you trust God above anyone else, you'll be less affected by other people's selfishness and thoughtlessness. In relationships, you have to realize that no human is perfect, and no human can read minds. If you haven't communicated your expectations with someone, you have little right to get mad when things don't work out. Even when they fail you though, and they will, give grace. Jesus has certainly given us ample grace for the many times we've failed to meet his expectations.

5. Grace, grace, grace.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy."

Matthew 5:7

"Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble."

1 Peter 5:5

"For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment."

James 2:13

"But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins."

Matthew 6:15

"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience..."

Colossians 3:12

      

      Clearly, I'm passionate about this subject. This last semester has presented more opportunities than I've ever known to give grace to others and myself. Getting engaged has forced me to grow up more quickly than my peers, and I've failed myself too many times to count as I've struggled to understand living expenses, insurance, career paths, and the adult world. I've learned that shame is not from the Lord, but from the enemy. If the enemy can cause us to feel guilty and ashamed, then we consequently will cover ourselves and hide from God, as Adam and Eve did in the Garden. We must give grace to ourselves when we try and fail, or when we don't try at all and knew we should have. Repentance and shame are entirely different; repentance is an action, shame is a cycle. Giving grace to others, depending on the person, is infinitely more difficult or easier than giving grace to yourself. This semester has been filled with transition, for myself and everyone around me. I've disappointed others and have been disappointed by others more than any other season in my life. The Bible tells us that those who forgive will be forgiven, and that those who hold grudges will not be. Remember the story of the servant who owed his master a debt? The master forgave his servant, and moments after expressing his gratefulness, the servant encountered a man who owed him debts. Rather than forgiving the man as his master had forgiven him, the servant persecuted and prosecuted the man, completely ignoring the forgiveness he'd been shown. I've learned this year that grace is instant forgiveness. Giving grace is the only way you can go through life without pessimism. It's not easy to instantly forgive, but it is freeing. After giving grace as much as possible for the past few months, the forgiveness has turned into straight up forgetting. I can't even remember what people have done to hurt me, intentionally or accidentally, because I'm no longer allowing myself to focus on others' faults. When you shift your focus from the sins of others to the perfection of Christ, it's impossible to hold grudges. This is easily the most life-changing lesson I've learned this year, because healing comes from the divine grace of God. If we have the Spirit of God within us, we have every ability to forgive sins as He does. When Christ died on the cross, God forgave every sin for all of mankind. He's never looked back on our sins, but has separated our imperfection from His righteousness as far as the east is from the west. Shouldn't we practice the same grace to others?

2K15

This morning, my grandparents' pastor reminded the church congregation that it was the last weekend of 2015. He went on to share how this year had been wonderful for him, with new additions to the family and college graduations to celebrate. His exuberance over his 2015 experience prompted me to make a collage celebrating my year as well. While I was scrolling through the abundance of screenshots, selfies, group photos, and vacation pictures, I realized that I had too many happy moments to compress into one collage. If I wanted to include every worthwhile memory from 2015, I would have filled your newsfeed with all the mushy gushy, feel-good vibes of my year. I chose the picture above to represent my year because God bombarded me with blessings the way my buddy Steve bombarded me with color powder. My relationships blossomed just like the beautiful wildflowers I found in my backyard this spring, my pursuit of God was more vibrant than the red powder streaking across my white dress, and my celebratory moments surpassed what I could have dreamed or imagined was possible for one year.

This year was honestly the best year of my life, but none of that would have happened if I hadn't dared to leave what was comfortable for the sake of the unknown. In January, I broke up with my boyfriend of two years after realizing that we were being crippled by the convenience of our relationship. Two years prior, we had started on a path together, hand in hand, overcome with the giddiness of puppy love and infatuation. But as time had passed, we had come to a fork in the road, and I went left when he went right. Our grip on one another was strained, our words grew distant and undistinguishable, and we simply couldn't continue down our destined paths together. Leaving my ex was the most daunting, scary, and necessary decision I'd ever had to make, but it propelled me from the valley of complacency into green pastures.

February and March were filled with girls' nights, books and hot baths, and almost-relationships that were classified with the ever elusive "we're talking." In April, I had my senior prom and it was the most fun I had in all of high school. I was ignoring God just as I had for the past year and a half, but I started journaling again. Journaling led to asking questions in prayer, and by April, I was more open to receive God than I had been in years. At a church conference, I heard a sermon about the immoral woman in Luke 7. The woman came to Jesus while he was eating, poured expensive perfume over him, and washed his feet with her tears, wiping them away with her hair. I had never felt so connected to a biblical character as I did to that woman. She and I were one, both pursuing the gazes of men and placing our worth in material things. Rather than washing Jesus' feet, I wrote him a love letter in a dark corner of the sanctuary, hiding from those around me as I laid myself bare before my king. That was my first great blessing of 2015: reclaimed intimacy with God.

That spring, I started having quiet time every morning on my back porch. I worshipped, I prayed for others, I confessed my brokenness, I read the Word, day in and day out. The better part of my senior year was spent pursuing Christ and praying for those around me who were still stuck in the stagnant Christianity I had just escaped. Joy was easier to find in the everyday, and I truly loved my classmates and my church. I went to Sadie Hawkins with my close guy friend, I gave the opening remarks at graduation, and I left high school satisfied that I had made the most of my last two months there. Summer was just beginning though, and the path the Lord was leading me on was about to get a little more crowded.

Fresh out of high school and alive with summertime, I introduced myself to a cute stranger after church. For the first time in my life (honestly), I had no desire to date anyone, and was completely satisfied in pursuing Christ rather than boys. I didn't expect anything to develop, but I started noticing him everywhere after that. I wanted to tell my friends about him, even though we'd had a handful of conversations and I barely knew him. I sensed a crush coming on, and so June and July were spent fighting it off, reading my Bible, going to summer camp, and preparing for college. Mid-July, my youth group went to Colorado for what would be my seventh Desperation Conference experience. My crush was there, as a middle school boys leader, and I fled from him at every opportunity. Not only was Tim handsome, but he was well-read, loved the Lord, and looked at me like I'd always wanted a man to. He had warm eyes, a kind smile, laughed easily... I was smitten. This was the beginning of my second big blessing.

Before that date came along, however, the Lord planted a seed in my heart for missions. Suddenly, I saw myself washing the feet of the Dalits in India, walking down the dirty streets, and loving on the unloved. Small, forgotten threads from my life were sewn together, and I could finally see how the various fabric swatches of passions, experiences, and goals fit together to reveal my life purpose. I was created to love the Dalit people, the most mistreated people group in India. Then and now, my heart swells when I hear them mentioned, when I come across a worship song or Bible verse about orphans, or when I see a mission trip advertised on campus. Oddly enough, I had an intense longing to tell Tim about my call, so on our second date, I did. Surprisingly, he had been called to missions too, just a couple weeks prior. An indescribable peace encompassed me as he described how he'd heard from the Lord, and over the next few weeks, we were inseparable.

Come August, I left my home of twelve years for my first semester of college. My roommate and I clung to each other in those first few days away from home, and we went from acquaintances to sisters in a matter of weeks. The spring and summer leading up to school were filled with blessings: intimacy with the Lord, healed relationships with my parents, unexpected scholarships, and Tim. Fall, however, brought different kinds of blessings: those that come with trial, struggle, and tear-filled nights. I hated school, I hated being away from home, I hated spending my time and money on what felt worthless. I met amazing people and learned more about the world and myself than I ever had, but I cried at least once a week to Tim about missing home. My blessings went from the abstract and spiritual to the everyday and minute. I praised the Lord for a good cup of coffee, for a stranger opening the door for me, for a 70 degree day. My path of life had darkened with menacing forests of debt, loneliness, and purposelessness. To combat the dreariness, I had to focus on the wildflowers on the forest floor, the tiny gifts God planted in my days to get me through my descent from the mountaintop of summer. 

By November, I started going to counseling, cried half as often, and forced myself to enjoy the allotted time I had to spend away from home. The blessings were still small, but every visit home gave me a taste of heaven to get me through hell. I was able to lead the sixth grade girls at a youth retreat back home, and got to love on a special needs sweetheart in my group. On my last day of class at school, I got a call from Pine Cove family camp and was told that my counselor application had been accepted. I came home with a high GPA and a wide open Christmas break, and have spent every day with people I love. 

This year, I gained invaluable friendships, met incredible people, and have the future I've always dreamed of within reach. There have been struggles, but my greatest blessing has been the joy to get me through all seasons. This year has been my best, because I know who I am in Christ, and have full freedom to walk in that identity. But all my blessings began with a tough decision. As the new year approaches, think about what your decision will be for 2016. Do you need to end a dating relationship or unhealthy friendship? Do you need to take time to discover who you are in Christ? Is it time to take a career risk, or transfer to a new school, or move to a new community? Whatever your decision is, know this: God is always calling us to higher purposes than our own. As you enter into 2016, find comfort in letting God's word be the lamp on your feet and the light on your path. Pursue Him, and His peace will lead you through whatever triumphs and struggles come this year. But it all starts with a decision: what, or who, is holding you back from Him?