Easter Sunday 2017

Slowly, but surely, we are adjusting to life in Maryland. Things here are so much different than other places that we've lived (or at least- I remember living). Sometimes it seems like I'm in another culture or country- there doesn't seem to be the same kind of hospitality (in general) that exists in Alabama or Ohio. But, as the weather has gotten nicer and we've met more of our neighbors and started to make friends- I'm beginning to realize that maybe this isn't the worst place we could have gotten stationed, maybe it isn't completely terrible.

This year was S's first "real" Easter. Last year, she was almost a month old when Easter happened, but there wasn't too much celebration because 

a) she wouldn't remember it

b) I was a mom of a newborn

and 

c) she was a month early, so I wasn't prepared to have an Easter basket or dress that I loved.

I know that things like the "perfect first Easter dress" are material and not spiritual and don't really matter, but to a new mom that felt completely overwhelmed and unprepared...sometimes it seemed like the end of the world and that I was probably first in line for the "Worst Mother of the Year" award. In order to compensate for these feelings, I tended to use the line of "She's just a month old and she won't remember it" (which is probably true). I struggled (and still struggle somewhat) with feelings of guilt about the first year of her life, feelings of inadequacy or not being present and active with her enough, and how my mental health was very affected for close a year by pregnancy and postpartum hormones. This isn't to say that everything is perfect now by any means, but I definitely feel more like my pre-pregnancy anxious self than postpartum. :)

All of it to say- I was very excited about getting to celebrate Easter with my little girl this year! :)

On Friday, we had a squadron event at T's work to share some food and fun and meet some of the people that he is going to be working with. They had a small egg hunt for the kids, so S got to hunt for eggs for the first time and once she discovered that she could put them in the basket, and then take them out of the basket, and then repeat over and over again, she was very, very happy. She was even happier when she discovered a chocolate kiss inside one of the eggs and Mommy let her try chocolate candy for the first time. I think we might have a chocolate-loving girl. :) 

Then, on Saturday, we relaxed at home for awhile (my allergies aren't loving Maryland right now) before heading out to pick up S a water table! I've been wanting to get her one for awhile to help encourage her to stand and try to walk around it holding on, and she was so excited to try it out. S loves playing with her ducks in the bathtub, so getting to put on a cute pink tutu swimsuit and splash in the water while playing with rubber ducks was pretty fun for her. One thing that we love about the townhome that we are renting is that it has a fenced backyard with a patio. I can see us spending a lot of time this summer grilling out and playing back here.

And then on Sunday morning, we went to church! T and I hid some Easter eggs (if you call placing them in the middle of the playroom "hiding" them) that were filled with goldfish crackers for S and the puppies to share. She also found her Easter basket, where Mommy and Daddy had given her a new stuffed "lambie" that she absolutely adores. It's super cute and super soft, and to be honest, I really want one, too. :) After finding her goodies, we fixed some pancakes and bacon to eat for breakfast together....and THEN, we went to church.

I love our new church that we've found here. We've only gone three Sundays (since that's how long we've been in town), but it's what we've been missing. We weren't really able to ever find somewhere to call our church "home" in Ohio, so we decided to make it a priority to research places before we moved here to Maryland that we might want to visit. We visited our new church once and decided to end the search because we had found one that we liked. S had two hard Sundays in the nursery, so I decided to keep her with us this week since they might be busier because of Easter. I'm hoping that slowly she will get used to it (though, I'm not sure how that's going to go since they change nursery rooms when they start walking and we'll have to go through this again).

Overall, we had a great Easter weekend and a decent start to our time here in Maryland! Thanks for all of the thoughts and prayers during this time of transition- we're still not fully unpacked and adjusted (and still have more phone calls and address changes and crazy moving stuff to do), but we are well on our way and super thankful to get to be together to celebrate Easter. :)

Please Be Still

Since I began this blog, I got married, got pregnant, moved 9 hours from "home", and had a baby. Just thinking about everything that these last two years has held gets me exhausted, so its no wonder that I haven't posted as frequently in this space as I did in previous writing spaces that I've had. Things were very different back in the days of Diaryland and Xanga and MySpace, and the days of "Not Your Everyday Cinderella"/"Finding Free" (the two names for the blog I authored in my college years). When I began Wiferella, I lived in Alabama and I was preparing for my first PCS with my husband as we looked forward to the Air Force sending us to AFIT at Wright-Patterson AFB in Dayton, Ohio. Now, our eighteen months in Ohio is drawing to a close and we are preparing to make another move- this time to Ft. Meade, Maryland! This time is filled with lots of emotions. For most of my time in Ohio, I've hated being here. I hated it because it wasn't home, it wasn't Alabama, it wasn't comfortable or something familiar that I knew. I just knew that I couldn't wait to leave Ohio- but now that the time is coming...I'm kind of sad. Ohio has become something "known" and Maryland is the new unknown that I am dreading. I wonder if this is just a part of the process of being a military wife- making wherever the Air Force sends us home for the season we are in and embracing what it is in that moment. Maybe one of these days I will get used to the moving and PCSing and uncertainty and unknown, but right now? Right now it feels terrible and awful and I'm internally (and sometimes externally) freaking out.

In these moments, one phrase often comes to mind- "Peace be still." There's a song that came out when I was in high school that runs through my mind and I am drawn back to a much simpler, yet still anxiety-filled season of my life.

Come to Me, you who are weak
Let My strength be yours tonight
Come and rest, let My love be your bed
Let My heart be yours tonight
Peace be still, Peace be still
Please be still and know that I am God
and know that I am God
Come empty cup, let Me fill you up
I'll descend on you like a dove tonight
Lift your head, let your eyes fall into Mine
Let your fear subside tonight
Hallelujah, Hallelujah*

In these moments, it's almost like I can hear God whispering to me to just be still, be still for one moment. I wonder if he ever gets frustrated with my frequent worries about "what is", and then I think of my daughter. S is twelve months old, and she has decided that she no longer needs a nap, even though she really does. She just doesn't want to miss out on anything that is happening in the world around her. So, sometimes she will work herself up to the point of exhaustion and refuse to take a nap. She's crabby. She's crying and whining and I'm starting to get cry-y and whiney and it's super frustrating. She starts to cry a simple cry, but it's a cry that signals to me that she's tired and that if I can just get her to be still for 30 seconds- she'll be out like a rock for 2 hours. So, I lay her on my chest and we snuggle under the blankets and I hold her arms and legs and tell her that everything will be okay, that she is loved, that she is safe, that Mama is right here. I start to sing to her- and just like that- she's out. She just needed to calm down and be still long enough to fall asleep.

I wonder if it's like that with us and God. I mean, every single time I work myself up like this, he works it out in the end and I'm like "why did I freak out over that?" Maybe I just need to stop crawling away from him, stop fighting his hold on me, and lean into him. Maybe I just need to listen to his soothing voice on my life and let him calm my fighting spirit. Maybe he's sitting here, holding me, whispering to me, saying "Please child. Please be still, please be still and know that I am God."

I'm holding on to that image tonight- and in the days of uncertainty to come. Maybe I can't change what it to come, but with God by my side, I can accept the things I cannot change.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Just for today. 

*Song: Peace Be Still by Rush of Fools

Nerve-wracking Baby Steps

I feel like the little groundhog that's been hiding in his hidey-hole all winter- I feel like I just kind of woke up and stepped outside and there's all these people with cameras asking if I see my shadow or not and I'm like, "What shadow? What's a shadow? Don't ask me all of these hard questions this early in the morning!".

So, hi...I'm Lauren. I inhabit this body and I take up space (and that's okay) and I've kind of been checked out from the world for about three months, but that's okay because everyone needs a break (or breakdown) every now and then...right? Right? Let's just all say "right" because I'm kind of nervous admitting that the last three months have been as terrible as they've been. I don't know what exactly set this lapsey-relapsey-messy thing into motion. It might have been stress over a high needs/"spirited" six (now almost nine) month old, might have been a triggering (I hate that word, but it's what it is) event that happened, might have just been things being things. But, "thing" happened and now I find myself back at the bottom of the ladder trying to pick myself up (or rather- get up with the help of my support system) and climb back up to the place of "meh-recovery" I was at... to hopefully get to the place of "recovery" I was at pre-baby.

And you know what? It's hard. It's hard hard hard and I hate it hate it hate it. It doesn't seem fair that life has to be such a struggle and has to suck this much right now. I mean, I have a baby, it should be easier and funner and I should feel more motivation to get better- but frankly, the motivation I have to get "better" right now is that I don't want to miss my daughter learning to crawl and walk and run because I'm off somewhere learning to eat again. So, I make that nerve-wracking baby step and I eat the meal set before me (even thought I think it might kill me) and I don't purge it (even though I feel like I'm going to explode) and I do "all the right things" even though they feel like they are "all of the wrong things". I fight even though I am so damn tired of fighting. I go to therapy twice a week and group once a week and I talk about all of these hard thoughts and feelings that are inside me in hope that all of this talking will make me feel better and will make the hard things easier.

But, sometimes this talking and fighting is exhausting. Sometimes I just want a break. So, I crawl in bed and I isolate and I turn off the light and I try to pretend for just a moment that none of this is happening. Sometimes the thoughts and feelings of anxiety are overwhelming and consuming. So, sometimes during this season (as in more often than not) we haven't made it to church or MMO or playdates or even the grocery store. I'm learning to offer myself grace even though I feel guilty for depriving Sarah of these things (she's only eight months old, she won't really remember this- what is important is Mommy getting better).

What's important right now is that I take care of myself so that I can take care of my family. On airplanes, they talk about putting your own oxygen mask on first- right now I'm working on putting my mask on. Right now, there's a whole lot of Daddy-Daughter time that T gets to have with Sarah. That's okay. Right now, there's a whole lot of eating out because grocery stores seem irrationally scary. That's okay. Life doesn't have to stay at these baby steps forever (it probably shouldn't, but I'm not going to should on myself too much), but it can stay here as long as it has to. I am okay. Baby is okay. Family is okay. For now, okay can be enough. Okay can be my baby step. Okay can be this season of learning and growing and healing.

Baby step for today is being the groundhog and getting out of bed and walking outside- it doesn't have to be answering all of the questions about Winter and Spring and telling everyone the story of my life. The baby step is a step in the right direction. Along the way there may be side-steps and steps backwards and that's okay. Baby steps. Itty bitty baby steps if I must, taking each step one day at a time...

If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.
Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among us—sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work for them. -The Promises of AA

It works if you work it.

Finding Me

I've been struggling to find my place in the blogging world as of late. In college, it seemed like I had found my place and my groove. But in the crazy post-college time where recovery seemed to be all I was doing, my blogging seemed to fall apart. Blogging friendships weren't maintained (we were going different directions anyways). People got married (and I didn't until I did). Blogging took time and effort and emotion and I was too emotionally exhausted to bare my soul to the world (still true). I've tried to create my little space over here at Wiferella, at a new address, a new place, with my new little life...and it hasn't come together as neatly as I planned. I mean, I didn't really plan things out and life got busy and blogging wasn't a priority...so I didn't do it. I failed to plan, so I kind of planned to fail. I'm still not sure exactly what I want this space to look like, but in my ideal world, it might include blogging some recipes, some activities that I've done with the little, and then some more soul baring-sharing (because that's kind of what I'm all about). I've come to accept that this probably isn't going to be the perfect little mommy blog, and that's okay. I'm just not that kind of blogger. I don't have time for that...and I'd rather keep the memory keeping to something like Instagram. It gets done that way, and I'm a huge proponent of "done is best" sometimes. :)

A few years ago, I wrote a "Mission Statement" as a part of an art therapy assignment. While looking through files on my computer, I came across the document again and it made me start thinking about picking up blogging again. I love being a wife and mom, but sometimes I need to dig a little deeper and search for who I am and what my purpose is in my core inner being. That core purpose has a huge influence on how I wife and how I mother. When that core purpose is lost or forgotten...things start falling apart. I forget how I was made to be a storyteller, made to bear the light of hope found in Christ to a fallen world. So, today, as an act of accountability, I'd like to share some pieces of my Mission Statement.

I will remember, in all things that I do, that I want to guide my life and my decisions with these qualities that I value most:Sobriety, Courage, and Love.
I know that I am my very best self when...I am sober in my recovery,
I am pursuing a passionate personal relationship with God,
and I am engaged in relationships with others.
I am most at peace and happiest when I spend my personal life:focusing on God more than self,
letting my creativity and imagination flourish,
and when things are in their place.
I will be most at peace and happiest when I spend my work life:loving people,
sharing my story,
offering hope to a fallen world,
and sharing the love of Christ.
I will seek out times when I can use my inborn gifts to:be a storyteller
spread the gospel to others,
and shining my light.
I know that I am meant to:love God and love people.
Nothing else matters.
I will work hard to be known as someone who:is strong,
courageous,
bold,
and brave.

Sometimes I lost track of what is important- those three qualities at the beginning: Sobriety, courage, and love. When I lose track of these things, my life begins to crumble. My recovery becomes shakey and behaviors begin slipping their way into my life. I don't speak up for myself and how I feel and I grow resentful of others. My relationships with both my husband and child begin to fill up with irritation and frustration. I become overwhelmed and the cycle repeats over and over again until I am worn down, tired, laying on the ground in a heap sobbing. I find my place in the place that I swore I'd never be again, struggling the same demons. That isn't to say that remembering the qualities means that life is 100% okie dokie all the time either, but I am much more able to reach out for support and do not become as overwhelmed.

Way back in the Spring of 2013, I blogged at a different space (laurenelizabethadam.blogspot.com if you ever want to know what I was like back in college). I changed the name of my blog to "Finding Free" and I wrote the following explanation for the change. Reading it today was encouraging and frustrating at the same time. There are still so many lessons that I need to learn about true freedom, but I have come so far from where I was back then. 

Be brave. Let Him make you brand new. That's what I want to be right? Brand new? A new creation? But, this is a painful process. It kind of hurts. It hurts to be real and honest. But, secrets don't bring freedom. Secrets bring shame. Secrets bring guilt. Secrets keep us entangled. Secrets keep us in chains, in bondage.They hold us back. They keep us from living...really living! But, being open and real and honest and admitting that we have struggles? That we have strongholds that bind us? That brings freedom.

The new name of this little space on the internet is "Finding Free".The title is inspired by Maya Angelou's "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings". My favorite part of the poem is the last two stanzas:
"But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom."

The truth of the matter is: I feel like I'm that bird standing on the "grave of dreams" with clipped wings and tied feet. I feel like giving up some days. Sometimes the struggle to live and breathe and function seems to be too much work. That's why I entered a treatment program for eating disorders a month ago. For the last four years, in addition to keeping up this blog, I've struggled off and on with anorexia. It's easy to hide things when you feel like your whole life is a secret. It's easier to not let anyone know that you're struggling. But, over the last few months, things hit a breaking point. I wasn't able to hide my secret struggle anymore. I felt so ashamed for living this way. My secret was killing me (literally). So, I finished off a rough last semester to complete my degree, and then I entered a program to help me recover. It's been one of the best decisions I've ever made. Recovery? Is ridiculously hard. But, I'm finding free. And even though I'm not free yet, I'll sing the song of freedom from my cage, because I know that redemption is coming. 

I'm learning to love and trust myself in a way that I never imagined. I'm finding what "free" really means. Life isn't just about growing up, moving out of your parents' house, getting married, buying a house, giving birth to 2.5 babies, and working at a job you hate until you can retire. Life has to be something more. There has to be a purpose for living- a passion behind what you do. I think that when you live life in this manner, it won't matter how the details work out. It won't matter what kind of house you have, when you get married, or how much money you make. It won't matter what color the walls of the foyer are painted or how many smocked dresses your precious baby girl owns. What matters is that you are FREE. Free to be the person that God created you to be. Free to travel, explore, and have adventures wherever life takes you. A life lived "free" is a life without limitations. It's not limited by false ideals of perfection. It's not limited by what other people may think. Finding free means learning to embrace life at it's fullest. It means running with the moment and enjoying what each and every moment brings....the good and the bad. It means shifting your perspective to focus on the positives of the situation, even when everything is falling apart. It means living for today, and letting tomorrow worry about tomorrow. Finding free means running in full pursuit after the coattails of the creator of the universe. It means dancing in the fields of wildflowers... even if they make you sneeze. It means fighting for life with every fiber that you've got. It means clinging to faith when you have nothing left. I may be standing on the "grave of dreams" right now, my voice may waver with a "fearful trill", but it's okay...I'm singing of freedom. As the Beatles' put it in their famed "Blackbird",
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise"
I may be broken. I may be down. But I will rise. I'm finding free.

Maybe the purpose of this blogging drought I've been in is so that I can rediscover the wisdom of old and drink it deeply.

Maybe I was only waiting for this moment to arise.

...to be continued

I Kept Living

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

One of my favorite posts I've ever written on this blog was written on the 10 month anniversary of being clean, being free from the addiction of self harm (you can read it here if you want). I remember being so incredibly proud that I had made it that far, and I remember wondering what it would feel like when I reached a year in recovery from self harm, two years in recovery...

Today marks two years free from self harm.

I am proud of myself and the battle I have fought and won. I am thankful for the incredible support that I have received from my family, most particularly- my husband. He has stood by me through what was literally some of my darkest times- and never ever every given up on me. He consistently models the love of Christ to me. I thought I knew what I was talking about when I said the following in our wedding vows:

You are a breathtaking reflection of God’s heart for me, of how he pursued me and loved me even when I didn’t love myself. You held my hand in the darkness and you pulled me out into the light. You are my life. Because of you, I laugh, smile, and I dare to dream again.

But, over the last year, I've realized over and over and over again how blessed I am by my husband. I struggled mightily with mental health issues during pregnancy, and postpartum hasn't been my best friend. But somehow, someway, T always finds a way to make me laugh and bring me back into the light. He's always stood by me, always supported me...I could go on and on about it, but it would get super cheesy and that's not the purpose of this blog post.

This week is National Suicide Prevention Week. It's quite convenient how it lines up with the darkest times of my life, and the anniversary of freedom from self harm and rebirth. It might get annoying to some of you as the years wear on and I'm still celebrating, but- I don't care. I'm going to scream the message of hope from the rooftops if I have to. There is hope, even when it all seems meaningless and hopeless. There is a reason to keep living, even if all seems lost and life seems crappy and you can't seem to find the escape hatch that you are looking for, but all you see is a dark hole with a big flashy arrow pointing to an abyss full of razors and pills and all sorts of things that scream "at least I might feel something". Here's the thing- there is a life out there for you. The sunshine and brightness might not come right now, it might take a few weeks or months or even years to dig your way out of the darkness and find the sunshine- but go ahead and start digging. You are worth fighting for.

I kept living. At first, I kept living because I was scared. I didn't know how to do "it". I didn't know how to do "it" well, successfully (if you want to call it that). I kept living because I didn't want to hurt the ones I loved. I kept living because I had a tiny bit of hope that there might still be some light out there and I didn't want quit quite yet if there might still be a chance for hope. I kept living for "them".

I keep living. I fight a battle every day with the thoughts in my head. But today, I have a firm grasp on hope and I don't want to let it go. Today, I keep living for "them".

I can't write it any better than I did 14 months ago- so here you go:

Nothing can prepare you for the moment when the person you love discovers your wounds and your scars for the first time. The most horrible, most awful moment in my relationship with T happened when he ran his hand across my leg and found those horrible awful marks, still not completely healed. Having to answer the quiet question of "what happened, honey?" totally gutted me. I felt so teeny tiny at the moment. The first time, I answered something like "I don't really want to talk about it" and he didn't press it. But the next time, he patiently prodded me on to explain this chapter of my story. For the most part, a majority of the scars have faded or blend into my skin. But, there is one section that I fear never will- the section where I carved the word "fat" into my thigh. The scars from these terrible letters haunt me every time I get dressed, every time I see my leg, every time my shorts go up too high, every time I'm lying in bed with my husband and his hand brushes across it. I can't wear a bathing suit without showing the world my scars- literally. They have faded somewhat, but I fear that they will never be completely gone. How will I explain this to my future daughters?

If you are struggling with self harm, please reach out. There is so much more to life than spending your days and nights punishing yourself. It is not worth it- and please, learn from my mistakes so that you don't have scars of your own someday. I don't want you to have that awful experience of explaining to your husband that there was a time when you used to hurt yourself, when you used to carve terrible awful words into your thigh because you believed that you deserved to carry that scarlet letter. You don't have to carry that scarlet letter. Jesus came down and because a man and walked on this Earth and died on the cross so that you didn't have to bear that scarlet letter. He bears it for you. Please reach for healing today? Please reach out for help? Please know that you are not alone in this darkness- Jesus is standing there with open arms, just waiting to embrace you and love you as you are- as messed up and shitty as you might feel that you are. You are never too broken for Him. He redeems. His job is making broken things beautiful. Don't bear your scarlet letter alone.

This year, I have a daughter. I have a daughter that might one day look at her mother and see her scars and ask the questions that I fear she may ask. Honestly, it scares me to death to have that conversation with her. But you know what? I've decided that I will. I will have that conversation with her. I will be honest with her. I fully believe that the scars that we share become lighthouses to others that are headed toward the same rocks that we have hit. 

I will tell her about my struggles, so that maybe someday she will know that even if she has these thoughts- she isn't alone. She is loved. She has hope. I will not hide, I will not be silent, when my daughter's very life could be at stake.

I wake up and fight every day, I keep living- so that she might do the same.

love is the answer, and it starts with me.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction ... The chain reaction of evil - hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars - must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.

I've been trying to find the way to fit the words together in the proper way to talk about "the situation" that seems to be engulfing America right now (and no, I'm not talking about the election). I've been trying to figure out where I stand on the race war, the racial situation. I've been seeking to understand. This post is the result of these efforts. It's probably going to come out messy, I'm most likely going to say something the wrong way- but I've avoided discussing the issue for far too long, and I'm trusting that God and others will forgive me for anything that goes misunderstood. Grace not perfection.

I'm beginning to realize that the answer to all of this is love. It's about loving our neighbor as if he (or she) was ourself. In Matthew, Jesus was asked what the greatest, what the most important commandment of them all was- his answer was simple and it summed up the ten commandments quite succinctly. First, you should love the Lord your God with all of your heart, all of your soul, all of your mind (basically- all of your everything). Secondly, you should love your neighbor as you love yourself (as if we were in their shoes, as if they were us/we were them, we were on their side of the situation).

This makes me think of something that my Mom used to always tell me: You can only control your own actions. I only have power over myself and what I do in a given situation. I cannot control all of the evil out there in the world- honestly, there is enough evil within myself and it's hard enough for me to control that. I don't have to take on the world- I can't take on the world- I can only be responsible for myself. Change starts here, in the small place inside of ourselves, and when we live it out, it can (eventually) change the world. A giant fire starts with a single spark. A journey to the top of the highest mountain begins with a single step (yes, I'm quoting motivational posters here- you get the idea?).

I think its clear to anyone that reads the news these days that there is evil in the world. There is darkness, hate, violence. The thing about all of these things is that they seem to build on each other. An act of hatred happens (racial shooting), an act of violence occurs in response (riots and looting at a protest), which results in mistrust of a community (police), which can cause darkness (retaliation against the police community as a whole, not just the racist that started the cycle), which results in fear, which results in more acts of hatred and violence and mistrust and darkness and fear as the cycle repeats itself over and over again.

So, how can we stop the cycle? To be totally and completely honest, I haven't figured out a magical perfect answer yet. But, I can make a baby step. I can take a tiny step in the right direction to stopping the cycle by controlling what I do as a part of the cycle. I can choose to not partake in the actions that add to the cycle. I can choose to love my neighbor (even though all my neighbors are Middle Eastern and not African American, I still feel like this is an okay step in moving towards colorblindness). I can choose not to fear a situation just because the color of someone's skin. I can try and be aware of what I am doing and how it may affect others (even if it wasn't my intent to cause harm/hatred/provoke fear). I can try my hardest to raise my daughter to not immediately identify her friends as "black" or "hispanic", but rather as "This is my friend. She likes dinosaurs."

There will always be people out there that are evil and want to do harm to others- that is the world we live in. Way back in the days of Adam and Eve, sin entered the world and things were never the same. Things will not be the same, the world will not be without death and dying and evil and hate until the Day of the Lord. I cannot force others to love their neighbors. But, I can start with evaluating my actions, and maybe, just maybe, it will be enough to spread to the people that I encounter in my life, maybe it will be enough to slow the cycle, maybe it will be enough to see just a small change in somebody's world.

the lie of not enough

I feel like sometimes we like to blame Eve for all of our problems. Sometimes, I think that she's the most hated woman of the Bible. I mean, if it wasn't for her believing that silly little lie from the serpent, we'd still be living in paradise (and we'd have NO pain in childbirth. Seriously Eve, what were you thinking?). We like to blame this women for messing up the world (and causing us to have pain during childbirth...SERIOUSLY EVE. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for that one). We blame her for believing the serpent, we like to pretend that we wouldn't have done the exact same thing in that situation, but the truth is...Satan isn't all that creative. He knows that what worked all those years ago can still mess us up big time today. All this time, since the beginning of time, we've been fed the same lie over and over and over and over again. The serpent whispers softly in our ear just like he did to Eve on that day long ago. He seductively dangles a fruit in front of our hungry eyes and lures us away from the truth. He tells us that who we are is not enough. From the days of childhood, he whispers this thought into our ear over and over again. It begins to seem so natural, a part of our inner being that is so engrained, such a part of who we are that we no recognize this fruit as dangerous or harmful. Just like a Pooh Bear being drawn to his pot of Hunny...we're helplessly, hopelessly lured into the trap and we believe the lies.



As little girls, we believe the lie that everyone in this class is better than us. In ballet class, they're better at the pirouettes. At the playground, they're better at the monkey bars. Some other little girl's dress is prettier and more twirly than ours. At a very young age, we begin to compare our bodies and our clothes and we believe this lie that is whispered to us that we are not pretty enough. The belief that we would somehow be a "better" version of ourselves if only we were smarter, faster, taller, smaller begins flicker in our tiny brains, slowly becoming the very center of our thoughts. As we grow older, these lies continue and morph and spin out of our control. In Middle School, we spend hours obsessing over how to tame our frizzy hair, how to paint on a pretty face, how to put up a facade that everyone will fall for. We spend so much time worrying about being smart enough to make the grade, athletic enough to make the team. We base our entire existence on being accepted by this invisible audience. We play a role, dancing and twirling around the stage. We try and we try, but we just end up exhausted, collapsing in a heap in the middle of the stage with the spotlight shining straight on us. And there we lay. Vulnerable. Weary. Overwhelmed. The serpent whispers in our ear "Darling, you will never be enough. God is hiding something from you, you're just not good enough for him. Trust in me, I won't fail you. I won't hide the magic cure from you. Take this fruit...and eat.". And just like Eve, we fall for his trap.

He's an awfully good manipulator. We believe his lies with all of our heart. We live a life of fad diet after fad diet. We restrict what we eat, and punish ourselves when we eat "bad foods". We run after this false ideal of perfection- if I just reach this weight, if I just can wear this pants size, if I can just get noticed by someone...I will be enough. But, the fact of the matter is...nothing you do will ever be "enough". You might reach that goal weight, but the serpent will whisper in your ear "Just five more pounds". You might suddenly be able to squeeze into your "skinny day jeans", but the serpent will whisper to you "You're still not enough. See that muffin top? So unattractive". He'll plant lies into your head:

• If you eat that, you're going to get fat.
• If you get fat, nobody will like you.
• You seriously just ate that? Go throw that up. You know the drill. You don't deserve "it".
• So what if they say you're skinny? Behind your back, they're probably whispering about how ugly and fat you are.
• If you just lose some weight, you'll have more friends.
• You don't fit into this playgroup with all of these pretty, wonderful women.
• You'd look more attractive if you just had a salad for lunch. Real women don't eat.
• If only you were skinny, your husband would love you more. You don't want him to leave you for some other more beautiful woman, do you?
• If people knew about your past, they'd be gone.

LIES. All of them. This serpent that we allow to linger in our lives is a terrible, horrible friend. He's not looking out for our best interests. He's a toxic and abusive relationship that we choose to remain in- yes, we choose to stay with this terrible one. Why? We find comfort and security in him. Even though he treats us horribly, he still sticks around. And, it's not really that bad, right? I mean, losing a little weight isn't a horrible thing. It's not bad to work hard to achieve success in academic endeavors. We rationalize our "dear friend"and his horrible behavior. The serpent whispers seductively in our ear, "I won't hurt you. I only want what's best for you. Trust in me." But, it is time to fire back. It is time to tell that serpent who's boss. We need to stand up and be assertive and tell him, "Nope. Not gonna listen to you. Not gonna trust you." Will he like this? Probably not. But, that's where we can change our story and stop the lies.

In the story found in Genesis, Eve falls for the serpent's trap. She ate of the fruit and then she felt ashamed. Rather than getting up and confessing her sin, she stays trapped in her shame and guilt. She made clothing out of fig leaves to cover up all she had done. She saw that she had been lied to, but she didn't run away from her serpent friend. She rolled around in her shame and guilt and let it consume her. She decided that she would rather stay trapped in the "comfortable terrible" than face God and say goodbye to the serpent. We can learn a lot from this. True freedom means finding freedom from these chains that have bound us, all of these lies that we have believed. This means that we have to acknowledge that we had a thought (such as, "I am not pretty" or "I am broken" or "I am unlovable"), and then move on from that thought. Thoughts are not fact- lots of them are lies. We need to let go of these false thoughts. They're just holding us back.

Here's the thing: God loves you, no matter what you've done in the past. Our entire faith is based around the principle that we do not have to be enough, in fact we alone CANNOT EVER be enough. There's this not-so-tiny concept called grace. We celebrate the various liturgical seasons (Christmas, Lent, Easter) to remember all of what Christ has done for us. If we were "enough", if we had EVER been "enough", he wouldn't have had to come down to this crappy planet when he could have been partying it up with God in Heaven. But, he chose to die for us. While the serpent whispers in our ear, "You will never be enough", Christ tells us that it is okay for us to not be "good enough". In Romans, it says that ALL have fallen short of the glory of God. But, that is why Christ died for us! It's this wonderful thing that we need to celebrate! We do not have to be enough. We don't have to live up to unrealistically high standards. We are beautiful just the way we are, because we are made in the image of God and he loves us! We don't have to live in the embrace of the serpent any longer. You can choose to walk away from that abusive relationship and start a new journey on the path of freedom. Freedom from the lie of "not enough". Free from the lie of "if I just lose five more pounds." Free from the lie of "if I just make the grade, make the team". John 3:16-17 reveals this wonderful truth:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

We are free. We are free from these unrealistic, unattainable lies that have taunted us since the day that we came into this world. God didn't send his Son to condemn us. Jesus didn't come to Earth, see us in all of our brokenness and say "Ain't nobody got time for that!" and walk away. No.

He came to heal.

He came to restore.

He came to bridge the gap so that we could be forgiven and have eternal, everlasting life!

You are enough to him. Let that sink in for a moment. You. Are. Enough. For. Him. If you were the only one on this planet, he still would have chosen to come down here to save your soul. You don't have to lose five pounds to gain his acceptance. You don't have to pretend to have it all together for Him to gain his acceptance. You don't have to be the prettiest, smartest, or most outgoing to gain his acceptance. He loves you for you, not for what you have done or what you will become. All he requires is that we love Him with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength...and that will be enough.