i dreamed your dream for you

The past few weeks have been good and also difficult. Most weeks are just that. I would like to say I know exactly what to do to make every week good and not so difficult, but I'm aware that right now, in this moment, the weeks will continue to be good and also difficult.

I'm stretched so thin these days. There are many times when I think I just can't do all this anymore. And there are times when I stop doing much of it - when I give into the exhaustion and the frustrations and I allow myself to stop working quite so hard. But then I can't stay that way, so I go back to early morning work-outs of squeezing a 30-minute work-out in between jobs.

I have yet to figure out the balancing act. Or the act of eating healthy. It's so hard to say no to a juicy cheeseburger than costs $3.50 at a local diner and say yes to a $8 salad that looks nowhere near as appetizing. And usually I say yes to the cheeseburger and no to the salad - even when I've spent the entire morning (and the night before) preparing myself for the task of ordering a salad.

I've spent a lot of time focusing on the things I haven't done. A lot of time trying to understand what my relationship with food really is and why it is that I go back to the foods that are not good for me. I've also spent a lot of time focusing on just how busy I am and realizing how important my diet is right now when I don't have the time or the energy to spend two hours in the gym every day.

And I am spending a lot of time focusing on where I am in life. On what I am doing every day and the impact it is having. Because every day I am surrounded by need. The need of medical care, the need of parents who care, the need of attention and of structure, the need of an understanding ear, the need of help even when you don't want to ask for help.

Seeing that need all around me is exhausting. It tugs on my heartstrings and makes me wish that I could do more and be more. When something happens and I feel like I didn't do this or that right, it impacts my entire day and then usually the day after that. So I do what only I can and I pray for some sort of guidance. Because I am human and I fail daily. I fail myself and my fight for health. I fail the children I work with. I just fail.

Even with the failure, there is success. There are moments, like last night, where I cuddle a sick child at 10:00pm and press a wet washcloth against their forehead that I am overcome with a sense of purpose. where I am reminded that it is okay to fail because there is always the next day. There are moments when I dance like a crazy person in the middle of the living room with children who don't speak fluent English and for that moment it doesn't matter that I hardly remember how to count to ten in Spanish or how to say the colors. Because the children's laughter and smiles overcomes any boundaries that exist.

And it is because of those moments that I am reminded to continue to fight for myself. It is those moments that allow me the grace to forgive myself for my failures in weight loss and healthy living. Because I remember that I need to be healthy so that I can be there for those late nights of dancing and pressing a washcloth to the forehead of a child sick with fever.

I still don't know how to do it, though. How do I say no to the easy drive-thru meal and instead make something healthy to eat when I spend the free 30 minutes I have at the gym or stuck in traffic. And when I am spending the money to eat out, why is it so hard to spend a few extra dollars on the salad instead of getting a crispy chicken sandwich or cheeseburger?

If I ever get the answers to those questions, I'll pass on the information. Because it is something I will need to hold onto. I need to be forever reminded of how to do this whole living healthy thing.

I never feel great after I eat french fries with my chicken sandwich instead of a side salad. And I always say that next time I will get a salad. But then that next time comes around and again I order french fries instead of the salad.

With each passing week, I feel like I am closer to understanding and closer to a breakthrough. But it is a process and I need to allow that process to happen so that when that breakthrough happens, it will stick and not just fade in a matter of days.

And I need to continue on with where I am. Serving the needs of the people I work with. Recognizing that God has placed me in these positions for a reason. Remembering that one day I won't always have to work so hard. Being thankful for the blessings that are coming from these opportunities - like spending a weekend in the Plano/Frisco area with one of my best friends and like upcoming trips and plans with my husband. And also having the chance to make that difference in a child's life.

(title from "romeo and juliet" by edwin mccain)

done looking for the critics (week 6)

I say that I am on a weight loss journey. And I am. But this journey is about so much more.

It's about figuring out who I am once and for all. It's about sticking with something and not giving up when it gets to be too hard. It's about dreaming and then making those dreams come true.

I don't have a lot to say today. I haven't had much to say this week. Because I've spent time thinking and processing and dreaming and planning.

But I wanted to share something with you all. A few of the items I've added to my bucket list.

Along with my bucket list, I've listed some of the things I've already done.

Life is hard. But it's beautilful. Sometimes we notive the hard things too much and forget how much we have done and how much more we have left to do.

It's time to remember. And for me, it's time to live. 2012 is almost here, and I feel like this is going to be the year for me. What about you? What's on your bucket list? What have you already done?

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

the answer that could never be found

I've spent a lot of time recently looking inward. Thinking about what I want. And by that I mean what I want from life and also what I want to be in when I "grow  up."

As a child, the options are endless. You can want to be a singer, a dancer, an astronaut, a doctor, a vet. Years go by, and eventually the childhood fantasies are meant to end. You find one thing you like, are good at, or can at least stand, and that's what you do - if you're lucky.

There's no college degree for the perfect job. And really there is no perfect job. So many of us spend years going from one job to another looking for fulfillment. It's something that plagues my generation (and me!) maybe more than the older generations. Not that people older than I don't deserve to be happy or to find that fulfillment from a job - they do - but they tend to stick it out better than I do.

This morning I thought about what I would do if time wasn't an issue - if money wasn't an issue. And if fear weren't an issue. I really thought about it. It's a question I've considered a lot, but usually my answers move to the focus of money and how I need more money to do the things I want. And my answers move to how the things I want could make me more money. Or to doing the thing I know I am good at.

I'm the sort of person who collects quotes. I have a whole board on pinterest dedicated to words that matter. There are plaques hung in my house with thoughtful quotes. I have blog posts dedicated to pretty words. I used to have a whole journal of just quotes. But those quotes have just been words for too long. They haven't been truth for me.

I've been vocal about the fact that I concentrate too much on the next phase of my life. I've said that I need to learn how to let go. And I've tried. But I haven't completely released the grasp I have on controlling my life and thus stifling my dreams.

I bought that plaque in California during Spring Break. I was in college and went to Los Angeles to visit my aunt. My dreams were endless then. I didn't have a mortgage or bills or anything to keep me from living my life to the absolute fullest.

I was a writing major in college. I started as a nursing major and then changed to an English major before settling on a degree in professional writing through the journalism college. Many of my hours were spent writing for class and for fun. Short stories, articles, fan fiction at one time, and eventually a novel for a class.

My college apartment was a two-bedroom apartment, and my bedroom walls were painted yellow. I loved sitting on my bed with my back against the wall and MacBook or Dell (depending on the year) in my lap. Hours were spent there with keys on the fingers. Sometimes I moved to the couch in our living room with purple walls and wrote with the television on.

That apartment was home to me. I felt safe and comfortable there. Creativity flowed. I don't know if it was the apartment so much or the freedom that came with college. While I worked three jobs and had a full load of classes, I had time to do whatever I wanted.

They say you make time for the things that are important to you. And I agree in a lot of ways. But how do you make time for all the things that are important? How do you master that balance?

I've been working on balance this week. Less time has been spent in the gym and more time has been spent focused on my diet. My brain has been wracked with blog posts and questions about how I want to spend my time. And I keep coming back to three things: writing, healthy living, and serving.

I miss the girl I was in the college. The one who could balance a social life along with those three jobs and full load of classes - the one who only got one C at OU. The one who had dreams of living in New York City and writing novels and doing all these things because of the love of the written word and the sound of clacking keys not because of any other reason.

I'm become more intune with that girl from college now than I have been in years. I'm letting go of all these expectations that I think I should have and moving away from the order I think my life should take. I'm bidding farewell to comparisons of my life with another person's life and saying hello to who I am and want to be.

Growing up, my dad read me a lot of Dr. Seuss. In fifth grade, he read Oh! The Places You Will Go to my class. I gave him the book with a personalized inscription one year for Christmas because I started to realize just what that book said and meant. I started to realize how badly my parents wished for me to go to all the places I dreamed of.

I've always been allowed to dream and to wander. But I've been the person to squash my dreams and say they aren't possible. I've taken all the wonderful things people have said and denied the truth to them. I've told myself that being an author isn't possible. That I'll never find success the way others have.

But the thing is? It's not about success. It's about doing what I love and loving what I do. That has everything to do with writing and everything to do with weight loss.

The question about how to spend my time is a complicated one. But the answer is oh so simple. Of course the simple answers are sometimes the hardest ones to come by.

I don't know what this realization means for this blog other than I am going to do my best to stop tracking page views, and I am going to just write. If it's too serious for some, then fine. If there isn't enough, fluff. Fine. And if it's not motivation enough, that's okay too. It's not about them; it's about me.

And as far as the rest of my writing, I am just going to do it. I am going to find time to curl up on our purple chair and write with my feet propped on the matching ottomon. With exercise, I am going to seek out inspiration when I need it and jump onto the elliptical or go to a class because I enjoy it not because I need or want to lose weight.

I'm going to start living my life the way I did in college: with no restrictions and with a determination to enjoy every possible minute.

There's a plaque on our living room wall that reads "I don't want to make money. I just want to be wonderful." It's by Marilyn Monroe.

That's what I want. To be wonderful. To live out my dreams. To enjoy every minute. And if the money follows? Even better. But I won't be chasing that money. I'll just be chasing the dreams, the worlds, the wonderful, and all the places I can go.

(title from "let love in" by the goo goo dolls)

your dreams are the same as mine

picture found here.

Two months ago, I saw a preview for the movie "Something Borrowed." I had heard of the book in the past and was familiar with the author's name but never took the time to search the shelves and select "Something Borrowed" as the book to purchase.

After seeing the preview, my interest peaked, and I purchased the book the same afternoon.

I am not a fan of watching a movie first and then purchasing the book. I like to have recently read the book so that the characters are fresh in my mind. I enjoy the comparisons of what a character thought in a certain moment versus how the actor portrayed the character.

While my husband went to see "Thor" with friends, I watched "Something Borrowed."

I always prefer the book the movie, and this was no different. Except something happened in the middle of the theatre. I felt a familiar spark. The spark that reminds me I am called to one certain thing and that it is time to stop making excuses and to stop turning away from the one certain thing.

I have been a reader and a writer for as long as I can remember. While my mom was pregnant, my nana, a teacher and reading specialist, requested that my dad read to me. Even though he thought it strange, he did as requested. Books were a part of my upbringing. There was story time every day, and at the age of five, I announced that I knew how to read. And I proceeded to read "The Berenstain Bears Go To School."

I know now that I didn't really read the book. Instead I had memorized the words and recited them, corresponding with the illustrations.

I remember writing stories in my head as a child. I imagined myself as a mermaid and would play high school in the pool with friends. I wrote in my diary and fell asleep by dreaming about different events. I even wrote (and illustrated) my first book while in elementary school; it was about a skunk who was trapped in the local high school and then detailed the skunk's adventures.

I'm not sure why I turn away from writing. I know it is a part of my very being. Words are connected to my heart and my soul. When I hear sermons about the gifts and talents God gives people, I know my gift and talent is writing.

I have family and friends who support my writing. Who believe in me so much more than I believe in myself. And I so easily turn my head from their words. My cheeks flush. I find myself without words. And while I believe what they say in that moment, I struggle days later with remembering how valid their comments are.

But watching "Something Borrowed" caused a spark. There was a picture that flashed through my mind. A sense of peace rested on me. A soft voice whispered.

One day. One day soon. My novel - the one I have written and rewritten, the one I think about constantly, the one I both love and hate. It will be published. And maybe I will even see it on the movie screen.

(title from "poison and wine" by the civil wars)

all my life you've been calling me

The most amazing thing occurred last night. I attended our weekly Community Group, as I do most Tuesdays, and was encouraged and prophesied over and inundated with love from the Holy Spirit. It’s strange to write those words and realize the weight that they carry. Before last night, I was a bit unsure of the whole prophecy bit in the Bible. I understand that our church believed in prophecy. I had heard stories about prophecies coming true, but I was not a true believer in it. And then last night happened.

For several weeks and months, I’ve been struggling. I have struggled with fear, with exhaustion, with feeling stuck, with resentment, with anger, with uncertainty, with even more exhaustion, with anxiety, with depression, with not knowing how to pray, with not hearing or feeling God, with insecurity, and with other things I’m not sure how to put into words. During much of this time, I have wondered and asked where God was in all of it, what His plan was, and why He was allowing things to happen.

There were some answers, yes, but my heart continued to break for more answers. I continued to feel worn down, to feel forgotten, to be angry. I tried to find joy, and I searched for peace. I asked for peace. And He gave it, but it was often the same thing the next day. And then the next.

In the past two weeks, I began to truly press into God, more than I ever have before. I was at a point, we were at a point, where there was truly nothing else that could be done but to press into Him. It took me a long time to get to this point, and it took even longer to allow myself to let go of my own personal opinions about what it looks like to press into God.

At first, nothing truly changed. It was a lot of work, pressing into God, and it was frustrating to try and try and try but feel like nothing happened. I refused to give up, and eventually, God did begin to reveal Himself in little ways, which I wrote about in this post. But, still, it felt like something was lacking.

And then last night happened.

Like I said, we attended Community Group. Instead of the normal home, we met at a condo (which I am in love with and want all to myself, but that’s another post all in itself). Our Community Group (C-Group, for short) has recently been averaging 20 people or so. Tonight, there were a smaller number of us and then four others who had never joined our group.

The four others came to equip us, to help us to learn about prophecy and to pour into us. It was a divine meeting.

I had difficulty at first with the equipping. Questions ran wild in my head and collided with doubt. I knew and know what the Bible says, but I just didn’t think God could, or would, ever use or speak to me in such a way. And then, dreams were brought up and how dreams can often by from the Lord.

I dream somewhat regularly, and I forget several of the dreams. However, there are several recent dreams I have been unable to get out of my head, and I have wrestled with if they were from God or not. There was a tugging on my heart which told me to talk about the most recent dream and to get direction on whether or not it was from God or if it was just a nightmare, as there was fear that went along with the dream.

When I had the dream, my husband was asleep in our spare bedroom (thanks to our two Labrador/pit bull mixed dogs which regularly boot one of us out of bed). Our family of four was home at night when our house was broken into. Somehow, though I do not remember how, I was able to call the police and then make it back into the living room where we were with the burglars. Our belongings were also in the middle of the living room, ready to be taken into their possession and out of home. I recall a sense of fear in the dream but also a sense of peace. Somehow, though I really don’t know how, the burglars left our home and left our possessions with us.

I was afraid when I woke up. The dream felt incredibly real, and it took me several minutes of prayer and deep breaths before I was able to fall back asleep. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night, unsure of whether the dream was real or not.

I spent several days praying over the dream and asking if it was from God or not. I never got a clear answer until last night, when I was told that the dream did in fact come from God and that I had interpreted it correctly. My interpretation was that over the past year we had been attacked and had almost had everything stolen from us (our marriage, our sense of security, our belongings, etc.) but that the time of attack was almost over.

So much more occurred last night outside of the interpretation, and I feel it imperative to share as it was an absolutely amazing and divine experience. But I also know not to share all details of the night as I believe some of it was meant only for me and for the others in the room. There might be a time later on when I am meant to share, but for now, I want to treasure what happened in my heart and truly pray over it.

Like I said, four people joined our C-Group last night that I had never met. They knew nothing about my struggles or our struggles. And yet, the words they spoke and the pictures they shared elicited a joy and a peace in my heart that I have never experienced.

Some of the words spoken were: strength, sunrise, motherly figure, all things new, eagle’s wings, peace, light, coming out of the pit, the cusp of something new, newfound joy in our roles as husband and wife, and humble servant. Two verses shared were Psalm 40 and Jeremiah 29:11. One person also shared the story of Mary pouring perfume on Jesus’ feet. Another person also quoted some of the words I previously prayed and provided God’s response to my words.

I am still uncovering more and more truths in what were said. I am reveling in God’s love and His grace and the fact that He poured out so much into me. I feel so inadequate for what His grace delivered last night but also more complete in Him than I ever have before.

We are beginning a new journey and a new life. His blessing will abound, that was also spoken over us last night, and I feel as though we truly are on the verge of things we never could have imagined as is said in Habakkuk 1 (spoken about here).

And I couldn’t be more excited or more nervous or more anxious but all in the best way possible.

the sunrise this morning. especially poignant after last night. taken with my iphone.

(title from "the house you're building" by audrey assad)

right there where they belong

I spent Friday night caring for a rambunctious three-year-old. Tonight my husband is at work. I spent approximately four hours watching The OC, and now, I am watching The Last Song and doing my best to edit my novel.

I finished the novel my senior year of college. It was for one of my major specific classes, and I wrote it immediately after returning from a summer spent working at a Christian camp for a month, then teaching in China for a month, and finally relaxing in Michigan for a little over a week. That summer changed my life then, and it continues to change my life. It was the only thing I could think to write about at the time, and revisiting the novel now is like revisiting an old, distant friend.

Some of the writing is good, and some of it needs work. The story itself tugs at my heart, and my mom told me it hurt her to read it because she could feel the pain of returning from the summer. I remember speaking with a professor at the end of the semester and then again right before I graduated. He told me it was a story that could be published. There was still work to be done, yes, but he sensed that it had the makings of a successful novel.

This professor described the novel as a coming of age story in reverse. While so many travel in order to find themselves, the main character in the novel returns from her travels in order to find herself.

I'm still finding myself. My coming of age story continues to occur even at twenty-five-years-old and married. But maybe that's the point; maybe it never really ends, but we just stop keeping track of all the things that shape our lives.

So much continues to happen in our daily lives. At the beginning of the week, it felt like God was moving in big ways. There were job interviews and contact with our former realtor. We felt as though doors were opening and soon our troubles would be distant memories. We praised God for His timing and His willingness to help.

It is the end of the week now, and we are still waiting. We are waiting for job offers to come from the interviews, for answers to come from our realtor, for solutions to our concerns and for ever lasting peace for our worries. We are both ready for things to happen, for miracles to occur, but we know this might take time still. We know that God sometimes answers questions with a whisper rather than a roar, and we are doing our best to train our ears to hear His whisper.

He has whispered for so long that I need to write. I've loved writing since I was a little girl. I have spent days, maybe even months, creating worlds and typing stories. Some I have shared. Others I simply saved to my computer.

I've heard from others that I need to write. I've been told that I could make it as a novelist, that I have the talent it takes to write successfully. And I have ignored the words and the whispers out of fear and out of uncertainty.

I'm stepping out in faith now, though. I am putting my fears as far behind me as I can, and I am going for it. I have Writer's Market 2010 and other books which detail how to go about publishing a novel. I have a hard copy of the novel, highlighters, and colored pens.
I don't know what will come of it, if anything, but I know this is something I must do.

(title from "when i look at you" by miley cyrus)

i wanna feel it from within

My mind is currently racing at the speed of at least 1,000 miles per minute. But my body is still. My heart is racing at a slightly slower rate of 500 miles per minute. There are so many reasons for this. Life is moving much too quickly, and at the same time, I feel as though I have barely taken a step forward in the past year.

I feel like something is coming, like change is coming. I can feel it. But I've felt it for several months, and I am losing hope and patience for when change will arrive.

God has moved in the past few months. He has answered prayers. He has spoken to me in dreams and in thoughts and sometimes through people. I know He is here. I know His hand is over all of this, and I know He is sovereign.

But my heart is hurting, and my mind is tired. And my body is sore. And I'm just at a point where I feel like I can neither slow down my mind, speed up my heart, or propel my body forward. I am in the place He wants me to be; it is a place of waiting. It is a place of uncertainty. It is a place of crying out to Him and then at times keeping to myself.

The past seven months have been some of the most difficult. There have been beautiful moments tangled in with the difficult ones, and there have been moments of clarity, of understanding. I know He is preparing us for something much bigger than me, than my husband, than the lives around us. A part of me feels as though I know what He is preparing me for, but I do not plan on this knowledge becoming truth. I know He can change the plans, and if He does, I will follow Him where He leads.

It's frustrating because I want to align my life with the life He desires me to have. Thinking back to my childhood, to my teenage years, I see how He placed people in my life to bring me to this point. I see how He prepared me to have a heart for people who others have forgotten. I see how He molded me to be a person who desires to take in the orphans and to love them as He first loved us.

It's a dream I share with my husband. We want a large house. We want at least five bedrooms. We want playrooms and plenty of bathrooms. We want at least one large office. We want a house with a large backyard. We want at least one swing set in the backyard. We want grass. We want a vegetable garden (or maybe that's just me). We want a fence.

We want these things so we can provide a life for the children in need. We've talked about having children of our own, but I have no desire to become pregnant, to birth a child, and to raise a child. Maybe one day I will, but right now, there is no desire. I do have a desire to open up my home to children who need a safe place to go. I want children of all ages. I want the children who need extra help, the children who have been forgotten, the children who need someone to fight for them and intercede for them.

I want to see these children return home to a safe place, to parents who love them and who know how to provide for them. I want to provide love and nurturing to these parents. Because when you take in a child, you also take in their family. When you love a child, you also love their family.

And if they can not return home, I will make my home their home, and I will provide for them the best I can. This is the desire of my heart. It is a desire I feel has been on my heart for years. The picture has changed and developed as I have changed and developed, but the subject matter has remained the same.

And I am close to being ready. My heart is close to being ready to give until I can no longer give anymore. But my house, my finances, my life are not ready.

So I am waiting. For this and for so much more. I am waiting with my husband, and I am praying for the time to come quickly but also when it is meant to. Because while I think I am ready, God knows best, and I need to believe in His timing, in the way He wants things to work. 

And so my mind races. My heart races a bit more slowly. And my body remains still. I remain still and try not to waiver. I cry out when it becomes too much. I ask for His hand to fall when hardship comes, and it does.

There's more than just this, but many of the other callings are ones that I have pushed aside out of fear. I am called to write, to tell stories. It is a desire of my heart, but I ignore it out of fear. Every now and again, I will tiptoe back into the world of stories, but I generally tiptoe out after only a few days, maybe a few weeks. 

And it's up to me not tiptoe out. I know that. But I fight it. Out of fear, out of uncertainty, out of knowing there are other storytellers in the world, some are better than me and others are not.

I've felt called to take better care of myself but have also ignored that calling until recently. I am on my third week of working out, but I can feel myself backing out of working out, out of eating better. I slip on eating something not healthy and try not to focus on it, but I know it's just one step closer to giving up, to going back to the lifestyle that did nothing positive for me before.

And so, maybe, it is these things that need to line up before my dream of a large house become reality. Maybe it is these things that need to be fixed before my mind, my heart, and my body move at the same pace.

(title from "shine" by rosi galan)