| beth atkinson.

Hey you. Yeah, you.

Your negativity is boring az.

I've been trying to find a way to say this in the kindest, most blogger-ly and gentle way. But the words just didn't come.

I think we all know what it's like to feel that ugly part of ourselves rise up when we see something that we don't like, aren't comfortable with, or are a little challenged by. Seeing somebody soar or try something new can bring up all kinds of demons.

When I first started blogging, and people realized I was taking it seriously (ie, not quitting after a few months, or hoping and working towards people actually reading it), I got all kinds of discouraging feedback.

You can't make a job out of that.

Oh, another Christian cliche.

Isn't that a little ambitious?

And I'm not gonna lie to you, it stung. There's nothing quite like sharing a new passion with somebody and having it shut down immediately. I'm almost positive it's a well-known feeling. At this point in time - I'd tell them to eat my shorts. But back then, I would just nod, smile, and burst into tears. (Just kidding. I ONLY CRY IN PRIVATE, NERDS.)

Seriously though - if you have an idea that you think is kick ass; I say DO IT. With GUSTO. Especially if there's a firm foundation of calling, thought, and passion behind it. When you hear people talking about things that they'd love to do, be the first person to encourage them. You might be the thing that gets them on their feet and shows them that they can accomplish so much more than they ever thought possible. Being that kind of motivator, supporter, and servant should be energizing you. Not making you feel nasty, jealous, and callous inside.

I'm really fed up with turning a corner and hearing people whispering about so-and-so trying a new way of expressing themselves. I feel exhausted when I hear the body of Christ judging someone's past when they confess they feel called to working in ministry. I'm sick of ignoring poison-filled comments disguised as just being real, sister! or I love you, but I'm just looking out for you.

If you come away with anything today, it should be this; DO EVERYTHING YOU CAN TO ENCOURAGE AND GUIDE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HAVE A POSITIVE IMPACT IN LIFE - AND ON THE WORLD.

There's a difference between advice and tearing-down. Being realistic doesn't always mean that's impossible. Let people enjoy things. Cultivate joy and excellence. Turning lemons into lemonade is exciting. Your negativity is boring.

And hey - I'm still working on this. I'm trying to catch myself before I shut something down that I might not be comfortable with or that I, in my oh so infinite wisdom, don't think will work out. But I'm conscious of my impact. I'm in love with the idea that people can go beyond themselves and do something amazing. It's not too late to go to your friend and tell her you think she can do it. It's not too late to take that person aside and give them some encouragement. I believe in you. No more lemons.

xoxo, Beth

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

For When You Forget Why

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

I recently volunteered at a young adults conference (Fluid) and it almost blew my mind how spiritually dry I felt coming into it. Contrary to every Christian camp pep-talk or youth group spiel you've ever heard - sometimes a spiritual high is the TLC you need to get back on track and open your heart up. A little wash in God's goodness and mercy, seeing what he's doing in the lives of others - and dare I say it - cool lights - get me really pumped up and energized. And at this point in time, I really, really need it.

I've been talking on the blog lately about losing track of my purpose - the why I do what I do. When you're involved in ministry (or really, if you genuinely love and want to serve any kind of human being at all), it's very easy to become familiar with the kind of numbness people feel when they're dedicating a lot of their time to helping others. Disappointment is something you know all too well. Heartbreak is common. The sleepless nights, the anxiousness, the effort that it takes to keep your eyes open and your heart wide - it can be crazymaking and devastating when kept up for a long time. It's really easy to tune out and just say what you need to say. Textbook answers that generally help but don't quite hit the nail on the head require less energy than speaking into an individual as an individual. And we all do it. Or - even worse - we take the time to care and minister and speak life into someone, and it makes no difference. As I said in my last post, loving people is really hard. Especially when you're weary, and they're the third person to have a crisis that day, and you feel like nobody is really, actually, hearing and valuing you. You get into a rhythm of service that's really just glorified puppeteering. And when I get to that spot, it eats me up a little inside.

I've been reading in II Corinthians, and I find myself relating to Paul's words.

11 Oh, dear Corinthian friends! We have spoken honestly with you, and our hearts are open to you. 12 There is no lack of love on our part, but you have withheld your love from us. 13 I am asking you to respond as if you were my own children. Open your hearts to us! - II Corinthians 6:11-13

The context of this plea comes after Paul is describing a lot of the difficulties and struggles that a lot of us know really, really well in ministry.

I don't know about you - but when I read this, I can feel it. I understand Paul's desperation. Why aren't my words making a difference to these people? Why isn't my heart enough? What more can I do before I fall off the edge? I may never have been beaten, put in prison, or faced angry mobs... but everything else? Sounds pretty familiar.

There's a lot in this chapter, but two of the things I'm trying to hold onto as I grow are that 1) God's power is continuously working in me, and 2) Even though my heart aches, I can still have joy. Neither of these are rocket science, or new information, for that matter. It might not be the revelation you were looking for. But every so often, I know that I need a bare-boned and simple reminder. I need to go back to the why of why I do what I do. I need to know that God hears me, God sees me, and I will be okay.

When you forget why you're doing it, let Paul's honesty wash over you. Nobody said it was easy. Anyone who says its comfortable is probably high as hell. Sometimes you have to push away the platitudes and get to the heart of the matter - we live close to death, but we are still alive. If you're in the same place I am, I would love to encourage you. Your faithfulness is not in vain. You are making a difference. You have everything you need.

If you need to talk to somebody who might know what it's like to be in the same spot, please reach out at purposeofgraceblog@gmail.com or send me a DM on my Instagram. You aren't alone.

xoxo, Beth

Wednesday, February 28, 2018

I Suck At Loving People

Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Photo by Chris Ouzounis on Unsplash

Loving people is hard.

I've been thinking a lot about seasons. I'm in a really cool season right now. But there's a lot changing and a lot of advice, a lot of opinions about who I should be and what my life should look like - and they're not necessarily all helpful or kind. Being a student, trying to plan a wedding (by the way - I'm getting married?!), juggling different responsibilities and ministries and still having the time to be the image of something that people expect me to be - is really hard. And I've learned a lot of ugly things about myself.

One of them is that I really suck at loving people.

When I'm drowning in fabrics and thinking about that paper due next week and stationary samples and guest lists and final dates and events and personal health and a long distance relationship and bills and activism and ministry and how I haven't even written in weeks, I get really angry when someone asks me to do something else. Or I get really angry when someone comes to me and complains about the two things they have to do that day. And I know it's awful. That's why I mask it with a sweet smile and a head nod and a, "Yeah, wow, that must be tough. I'll be thinking of you." And then I call my fiance and complain, or I roll my eyes once they leave the room, until I get fed up with myself and I feel that ouch in my belly that lets me know I'm on the verge of becoming numb. I'm on the verge of not really giving a crap about what other people are going through, and wallowing in my own self pity. I have to remember that sometimes, living in this world can be really hard.

People are complicated. Being complicated is really hard.

Battling cynicism after every disappointment, every little hurt, every failure, is really hard.
Hoping and believing the best of someone, over and over (no matter what they do), is really - really really really - hard.
Seeing good people - godly people - miss the point of it all is really hard.
Feeling the weight of responsibility, looking at your innermost failings, and battling other people's perceptions of you is really hard.
Making unpopular choices - even about things that you know are right - is really hard.
Stepping back after giving something everything is really hard.

And all of these hard things are very, very human things. I've been through these things. People I know and love deeply are going through these things.

If you're feeling any of these right now, I'm with you. Breathe deep, little beans. These past few months I've realized that sometimes it's really easy to forget my purpose. I forget why I'm even doing what I'm doing. I get angry at myself when I don't see results right away. I get angry that people don't see my problems, my anxieties, and then I treat them badly because I don't actually want to see theirs, either.

My selfish little heart is going to get broken a lot. I want it to keep breaking. I don't want that tough outer shell of cynicism or self-pity or arrogance to keep people out. I want to love people. I want to let them in. Part of that is loving even when I don't feel like it. Part of that is practicing a consistent change in my attitude. And this is really important - it doesn't mean I shove my own feelings down. It means I do my best to genuinely care - with whatever strength I have at the time. It means I find people to lean on, it means I lift others up even when I don't have the answers.

Remember to take care of yourself. Take steps back to breathe and rest and reevaluate and make a plan. Give yourself space if you have too. But once you're ready - you have to come back. We don't empty ourselves to stay empty forever. We empty ourselves to get filled back up again. It's a rhythm of rest that I don't have down and perfected yet. But as I work at it, as I grow, as I become better, as I open up - it's going to become a part of who I am. If you're constantly pouring out, make sure you have loving people pouring in. If you feel yourself getting bitter, ask yourself why. Don't use it as a shield so you don't have to get hurt again. Use it to love other people better, no matter what, for where you're at.

xoxo, Beth

Friday, February 2, 2018

New Things to Come.

Friday, February 2, 2018

lifestyle

It's been two years of this lovely, challenging blog journey. I've learned a lot about myself. I've learned a lot about people.

As I've grown and become more myself, I've realized there are a lot of things I'm passionate about. Always God. Always people. That's always first. But I'm also passionate about art. Culture. Travel. Food. Music. I'm passionate about my own, more creative, writing.

I'm not saying that things are going to change dramatically and I'm no longer going to be writing about ministry or spirituality or church culture. I'm still going to write about those things. They're my heart. But you might see things on my favourite artists, or design work that I do (fun fact - I'm not just a bible reading barista). You might see posts pop up about recipes or restaurants. This past year I've done a lot of travelling - you'll probably see more of that too!

All I'm saying is - expect new things to come. Big things are happening. My life is changing, and I want to invite you all in.

Stay tuned, darlings.

xoxo
Beth.

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

What I Know About Healing + Other Reflections

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Alert. Alert everybody. If you didn't know this already - I am incredibly embarrassing. I say the dumbest things, all the time. And I'm clumsy, too (even while I type this there's spots of tea stains all over my shirt from this morning that I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE TILL NOW). I've learned to bounce back quickly when a joke lands poorly. If I trip in front of you I'm probably going to laugh rather than blush. I'm gonna get tongue tied for no reason. I've accepted that I'm gonna be awkward sometimes, and I don't sweat about it anymore.

You know what I don't bounce back quickly from? Real, genuine hurt. I don't heal very fast. If it's a little surface thing, if I know in my heart that it doesn't really matter - I'm golden. I'm not saying I'm easily offended. But when I get hurt, I bleed. You can see the pain on my face. And I used to not like this part of myself, I used to try my best to hide it. But now I've come to accept that this is my human response to pain and it is okay. It means I'm not numb. As a person who has both been broken and also experienced some really awesome growth in her life, here are a few things I've learned about healing.

1. Healing requires pain.

It's not all peace and a waking up in the middle of the night with a light bulb realization that "fixes" you. Sometimes it's opening boxes we wanted to leave in the basement, forever. Sometimes it's bringing to the light something we wanted to hide about ourselves. Sometimes it's opening up just to be shut down. But the very act of opening and revealing is absolutely necessary if you want to take any steps forward.

2. Healing includes knowing where you are right now, and knowing where you're going to be.

I can remember crying about something in my teens and a darling friend of mine looked at me and said, "Beth, if you want to get through this, you have to deal with what's going on now - but you also have to look to the future." You may be crippled by anxiety right now. But there will come a day - even for just one day - where you can breathe and feel peace and walk with your head high. Be honest about what you're struggling with. But saying, "Some day, I will feel better." isn't distractive or destructive. It's giving yourself a point of hope to hold out for.

3. Healing admits that you might have to continue to heal.

It might take more than just one conversation, one realization, one fear conquered. It's not always instant. I wish it was sometimes. The day you're hoping for where you're free from addiction, self-destruction, or grief may not come in the timing you want it too. You might have to come back and talk about something over and over, and over and over, and over and over, in order to truly deal with it. That's okay. (I will say though, that some things are not ready to be dealt with yet. Give yourself the time and space you need away from something before you chip away at it)

You are not weak if somebody hurt you. You are not too messy if you can't hide your pain. But there are healthy ways to view your process, and unhealthy ways. I promise you, you are not too far gone. You're not. Stop thinking you're beyond grace. Stop thinking your issues are set like cement and can't be unset. Stop thinking you're stuck this way.

I'm not a master at this. I haven't "fixed" myself. My heart breaks in new ways every day. But the more I learn the easier those little waves are for me to ride - the more I've healed the better I can help other people do the same thing.

Monday, January 15, 2018

Beauty 101

Monday, January 15, 2018

I remember the first time I left the house with makeup on. I had on this pencil applicator, bronze eyeshadow, briiiiight (!!!) pink blush, and to top it off - the stickiest brown mascara that has ever existed. I thought I was a yung stunna. (I was really just a fourteen year old girl with a copy of Bobbi Brown's Makeup Bible.)

Even before then, I would sneak into my mother's bathroom and play with all of her eyeshadows and lipsticks. Browns, reds, blushes, and green (GREEN) eyeliners covered my face in haphazard patterns as I tried to create something new and exciting on the canvas of my little girl face. I can still remember the exact moment I discovered what face glitter was (if you grew up in the late 90s and early 2000s, you might remember the ultra sticky palettes on display at Claire's).

Understanding beauty and what it really means to be beautiful has been a long and confusing journey for me. I'm still really confused about it even now, honestly. I grew up feeling very much that I was an ugly duckling - a fringe freak.

Man, middle school, you guys (if you know somebody currently going through the confusing hell that is middle school, give them an extra hug and let them know that they will be okay). I had braces, I had acne, bad haircuts, late night crisis about bumpy noses and too-big chubby cheeks, not to mention the hurtful comments that go along with all of those things. Some days, I feel like I can still hear them, or that I'm still there.

I grew up in a lovely, wonderful family where natural beauty and simplicity were celebrated and embraced wholeheartedly. I will always be thankful to my parents for that. But there's nothing natural about Claire's face glitter or green eyeliner. Girls who wore "too much" makeup were seen as silly or over dramatic, or secretly insecure. But even still, every Wednesday night, I'd watch Fashion Television with Jeanne Beker followed by America's Next Top Model, and dive into the world of beauty and high fashion. And it was my dirty little secret - I felt ashamed that I wanted to explore all the glamour and mystique and elegance of it all. I craved beauty and pretty things. I felt as though this desire for what was considered "worldly" beauty was dangerous (even if the words were never spoken).

And then came highschool. Suddenly, boys paid attention to me. I was so lost. I loved the attention, but I also knew I was in way over my head. The admiration and physical "beauty" I had thought I needed so desperately when I was younger turned quickly into something deep and dark and ugly. I can't even begin to explain the confusion, insecurity, and twisted ideas of what it meant to be "beautiful" that I carried around with me during those years. I was told that sex appeal, pounds of makeup, and a pressing need to always be "put together" was the key to finding my security and worth. I used it to hide the complete lack and instability I felt in the way I looked. And yet at the same time I was still trying to reconcile the inner, God-given desire I had for beauty, and his calling for my life.

As far as I understood it, you couldn't be godly and pretty.

And that's what we're told, right? The beautiful girl at youth group is almost always followed around by whispers of, "Did you hear what she did last weekend? Did you see what she wore on Sunday?" I've heard pastors from the pulpit shame women for putting on too much mascara. I've read every single article on modesty and how women should dress that's popped up on my newsfeed. As per the culture of Christians, we mock and ridicule the society that takes advantage of women and cry, "Why don't they love themselves? This is why they're so insecure!" - but then we turn around and tell them that there's such a thing as loving yourself too much. There's such a thing as being too confident. We tell them that beauty and appeal and comfort in your own skin is too dangerous. Young men are told that beautiful women will try to trap and ensnare them. The responsibility of their wandering eyes is placed on the shoulders of teenage girls who are bombarded with images of sex and a standard of physical perfection - every. single. day. We tell boys that yoga pants are to blame for their lust and that girls who wear them are trying to steal them away from God, or are somehow unworthy of being treated like his children. We're even told that it was Lucifer's beauty that made him choose evil, rather than the ugliness that was festering in his soul. And so, as women, we hear silently and blatantly that our bodies and our features are sin. So we wear our turtlenecks and our one piece bathing suits and tell ourselves that this is what makes us godly. And all the while pride and insecurity makes us uglier than ever.

I didn't start feeling beautiful in my own body until I started to tear away at the lies and the pride that held me hostage. When I focused on changing my attitudes towards the broken, and my inner biases that were actually hurting people, I suddenly stopped throwing around the phrase "modest is hottest" (puke in my mouth). When I have peace in my heart, and encouraging words flowing out of me, I feel the loveliest. In the beginning of my faith walk I thought the answer to pursuing godliness was contouring less. In reality the beauty and purity of my heart was the real key. Did you know that a full beat face of well-done, skilled and beautiful makeup application done in the right frame of mind can actually be a form of worship? Part of pursuing Christ is accepting the fact that you are wired to be beautiful and desirable, and understanding that desire as a part of who you are. You can express yourself in all black clothing - tattoos, crazy lipstick, and out there haircuts and also be completely in love with God. You can never wear any more than chapstick in your life and be completely in love with God. Hell - you can wear a two-piece bathing suit and still be completely and utterly sold out for your saviour. Beauty is not our enemy. Our bodies are not dangerous and shouldn't be invisible.

Before we open our mouths and give our two cents worth on "true beauty" and "inner beauty", let's make sure we're doing everything we can to support and encourage and show people their God-given worth. I care way more about how honest and kind you are, before I even want to look at how long your shorts are. I promise you, I'm going to call you out for being jealous or callous before I ask how many fingertips is your tanktop. I'm never going to assume someone's ability or relationship with Jesus by how dark their eyeliner is (if you can pull off a smokey eye every single day - power to you). How do you treat people? Are you well-rooted? Do you understand how beautifully and unconditionally Jesus loves you? Are you willing to accept every bit of yourself as a gift and a lesson rather than a flaw?

You can be beautiful and love God. You don't have to sacrifice one for the other. God delights in you. Every scar, every stretch mark, every bit of extra fat and muscle that you possess is on your body for a reason. Beauty, worth, and righteousness are not defined by where you shop or what lipstick you like. Beauty, worth, and righteousness were defined in perfect example when Jesus died on the cross.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

I Think You Should Go For It

Thursday, January 11, 2018

" New year, new me."

You've heard it, I've heard it, we all roll our eyes and want to punch ourselves in the face. I don't know about you, but during the holiday season when all these inspirational quotes on Instagram and Facebook start popping up, I'm pretty much always sitting on my couch with pie crumbs all over my face (and wearing pants with elastics for a waistband) (it gets even better if I don't even have to wear pants in the first place, #free).

(Personal anecdote alert, please bear with me) When I was in my late teens I mentioned once to a boyfriend that I was trying to expand my musical skills and learn a new instrument (okay - this anecdote isn't going to make him sound very nice, but I promise he was still a gem and a half), and the first thing he said in response was, "Beth, you're never actually gonna do any of that." I think in his mind he was being "realistic". I took it as a declaration of failure before I had even started, and my motivation to learn something new completely fizzled out.

If I could go back as I am now, I wouldn't rely on someone else to dictate whether I was going to be successful at something I hadn't yet tried or not. And I definitely wouldn't quit after one negative comment.

When I'm scrolling and I see somebody post an inspirational quote or verse, or write a personal list of goals or growth they'd like to achieve over the new year; I don't roll my eyes like I used to. One thing I've learned about pride is that it likes to tell us that we know people better than we really do or that we have magic insight into humanity - when in reality there's so many surprises out there and a lot of humbling to be found in being proved wrong. And you will be.

Part of living in community and creating an environment of love is having an innate joy, and a desire to support and love people through their growth - rather than shutting people down before they even start. Use your mouth to encourage this 2018, before you count somebody out just because they want to try and better themselves. Volunteer readily to help keep them accountable if they're serious about a new phase of growth. The beauty of Christ is that people can change. As long as you have a healthy dose of wisdom and truth while you're encouraging, you're not going to run the risk of puffing up egos. And if that's your big excuse for why your toxicity is okay, I think you need to re-evaluate what you stand for a little bit.

That's why, this year, I think you should go for it. Set some healthy goals. Root yourself in truth and find little (or big) ways to become brighter and softer and full of compassion for your fellow man. Learn how to create healthy boundaries in your life. Don't be afraid to try something new, even if you look silly or it opens you up to rejection. Don't shut people down just because their passion scares you. Find something to be passionate about in your own life. Learn to be comfortable with emotion and explore your strengths and weaknesses. Be open about your struggles, even though it's scary. Become the safe space that you would have needed when you wanted to try something new. Don't let fear stop you from doing good things. Change is not impossible. Growth never stops.

And for those of you still wondering - I did learn to play that instrument. Eventually.

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

I Cried A Lot In 2017

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

I think I've started writing this post at least three different times, with a bunch of different titles. To the point that I may have been hitting my head against the keyboard in desperation - maybe. You'll never know. Finally I had to settle on the very honest, but not very eloquent title you had to click on to get here. Sorry bout that.

But it's true. I've shed more happy tears than any other year. I've also had more really ugly, open mouth, "what-is-tears-and-what-is-drool" kind of cries this year than I ever thought I had in me.

I've heard it said that 2017 was the best-worst year for a lot of people. I think that's a really great way to put it.

One of the cool things about being on this blog journey is that I get to look back (actually this is not always cool. Sometimes it's really embarrassing) and see what I've written in years past. This time last year I wrote the words; "There's no formula for God's grace. And there's no formula for loving broken people." I think in my smug little mind I wasn't thinking of myself and how those words would apply to me - now that I'm this close to surviving one of the most soul warping years of my life, I feel the words sending shivers through my heart and down to my toes.

Because it's true. You don't earn or deserve grace. Every time you come to the feet of the cross with your hands empty and your heart outstretched - there's no limit and there's no priority line and there's no secret formula. You just get it. That was really, really hard for me to learn. Every time I made a mistake that I thought, "There's no coming back from this one.", God showed me over and over again how my understanding of love was conditional - whereas His love is not. The quote; "Cling to God, and do the next good thing." has become my mantra this year.

I think I'll always look back on this year as the year I really became myself (at least until I hit rock bottom and am forced to grow again. That's often the way life works, in my case at least.) There's something about total desperation that makes you stop caring about looking and acting a certain way. I think I got really tired of being Ministry Student Blogger Cool Christian Girl. Now, to a lot of people, I'm just Girl Who Cries In Class and Wears Weird Clothes and Plays Weird Music in the Cafe. To other people I'm still Goofy Beth. Or Sad Beth. Or Wise Beth. To other people, I'm not really anybody. And all of those are okay. I think this year I finally stopped trying to manage (or mismanage) my personal image. It's okay to be more than one thing. It's okay to be certain things to certain people. And I don't have to be all things to all people - no matter how badly I want to be.

Being honest with yourself and to others about your broken bits and your worn out heart or your empty tiredness is not fun and pretty much always feels like it's counter-intuitive to trying to fix the problem. I would much rather just try harder than take a break and sit in reflection.

Which brings me to another good lesson I learned this year - "Take a break. Or else." I'm trying to no longer feel guilty about taking a nap or saying no to an event or stopping in the middle of a paper because my brain is mush. Save yourself the mental breakdown. Make some tea and clean your room and sit in the sunshine. Rest is okay and putting things on hold are okay - you just have to make up the difference later. But you'll be amazed at the things you can do when your heart is full and your mind is present. If you find people that can pour into you and build you up when you're down and keep you balanced (in a healthy way), keep those people. They are very, very important.

I met some really amazing, lovely people in 2017. I have new lifelong friends in 2017. Lies were replaced with truth in 2017. I grew in my faith and have become even closer to God in 2017. I cried a lot in 2017. I fell in love in 2017. I became better and healthier and more genuine in 2017. The future became brighter in 2017.

Thank you to everybody who was a part of my life this past year. Thank you to everybody who was a lesson. I have to give special thanks absolutely to my girl squad of Lord loving, beautiful ladies - you have become some of my biggest supports, and I feel blessed to know and love each of your fabulous hearts. To the people who still continue to read and support this blog - from Brazil to Australia - thank you, thank you, thank you. You have had a front row seat to my growing and my rambling and most days I have no idea why you're here. Thank you to my beloved family. I love and admire you, you make me think and you fill up my heart.

If there's only one thing I can say to sum up this past year, is that I'm excited to move on to the next. Growing is painful but often the path is full of light once you start moving. Goodbye, 2017. In the end, you really were good to me.

xoxo, Beth.

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Where Do You Go

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

"Simon Peter replied, 'Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life.'" John 6:68

Anybody who has spent time with me knows this and will shout it from the rooftops - I am utterly, completely, directionally challenged. I get lost on country roads I've known my whole life. I could go to the same mall every day and still double check a map to know where the bathrooms are. And please, please never ever use words like "north-east, south-west" when giving directions. I will probably get lost in the wilderness and die. Alone. I am regularly in a place and posture where I praise Jesus for Google Maps, unceasingly (kidding! please don't email me saying I'm a heretic. I save my heresies for where it really counts. kidding again. moving on.)

And depending on the season - I've found navigating through life to be even harder. When things go wrong and I feel completely lost, I usually head straight to places I know aren't good for me. When I'm overwhelmed I look for easy distractions. I wander aimlessly and tolerate little, white sins because "I just don't have it in me right now" to plant my feet firmly where Jesus wants me.

Maybe that's you this week. You don't know where you've been at lately, and in the back of your head you're wondering how far you can wander before you reach the point of no return. Maybe you've been lost for awhile and have no idea how you got so stuck. Maybe you see your need for direction and have been trying to get back to God all in your own strength - and you keep failing.

In the book of John there's a moment where Jesus' teachings became a little too real for the liking of some of his disciples. They weren't quite sure what it was he was trying to tell them. To the point that Jesus interrupted their mutterings (I love this, wait for it) and asked, "Does this offend you?". Sometimes God is going to ask us to go places where we really, really don't want to be. To go into the murky places in another person's soul that we don't want to believe exist. Sometimes we're going to read something from the Bible that rubs us the wrong way. Or he's going to put us into circumstances that we don't understand. Instead of holding onto Him to guide us, we decide that our way is the best way. And we choose our own path. We go places we know we shouldn't.

This is me. This is your pastor. This is your young adults leader. This is all of us. This is the wisest of us and the ficklest of us (and I'm not convinced the two are mutually exclusive). These were Jesus' own people.

But this is what I love - when Jesus asked the Twelve whether they're going to leave like the others did, Simon Peter pipes up, "Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God."

One of the most life changing things I've learned about living righteously - is that it's not actually about counting the amount of times you messed up, or didn't. It's about how often you come running back to your Saviour. It's about what you do afterwards. It's saying, "God - I believe what you say is true. I believe you are who you say you are. I trust you. I believe you've got this." It's about where you go after you've gone too far. Sinning less isn't how you become righteous. It's placing yourself at the feet of Jesus because you know there's no other way.

So when you're feeling lost and discouraged and your old habits start crawling back from the grave you threw them in, go to Jesus. His arms are open. He is not going to bar your way or shame you because you took a wrong turn, again. He's drawing you to himself.

You just have to choose where it is you're going to go.

Friday, October 27, 2017

Let's Talk About Anxiety

Friday, October 27, 2017

I was sixteen when I had my first panic attack.

I remember exactly where I was sitting. I remember exactly what I was wearing. And I also remember thinking in the back of my brain - this is a long time coming.

I didn't know then what anxiety was or what it meant to struggle with mental illness. What I did know was that I wasn't normal, though. I really, really hoped I wasn't normal. Because if everyone felt like this, how are they keeping it together? And if everyone doesn't feel like this, how in the world am I supposed to keep it together?

I'm not very good at being imperfect. Imperfection is threatening. So I overachieve. I overcompensate. I am meticulous. I avoid things that I can't be perfect at, I withdraw from situations that remind me that I'm flawed and very, very human.

After that panic attack at sixteen, my very wise, very loving, and very woke mother suggested therapy (I loved my therapist. She had these big, gorgeous red earrings and a knack for wearing neutral turtlenecks). At least I loved her until things started getting deep. Guys, I am the master at chit chat. I am the master at banter and relatability and charisma. Just don't ask me about my childhood. Or heartbreak. Or the really, really irrational things that keep me awake at night, and the fear that ties strings around my mouth so that I can never open it to ask for help.

It wasn't until I was eighteen years old that I grew absolutely desperate. I was really tired of limiting myself. I was really tired of not sleeping, not being able to do things that the people I loved counted on me for, and I was really tired of feeling distant from Jesus. I wanted the joy and peace and hope that everyone talked about.

I will always look back at that year as the year I climbed mountains. Figuratively and literally. I made so many big decisions that year. I fell hard, in love with Jesus that year. I got serious about working to become the person I knew God wanted me to be that year. And by the end of it, I thought I had cured myself. I was softer. I was more vulnerable. I didn't shame others for being soft and vulnerable anymore, either. I loved, I loved, I loved my close friends and family to the fullest. I had learned to ask for help. I was so full of joy. And the anxiety? Huh? New phone who dis?

It wasn't until this past summer when I let myself burnout, it wasn't until the cries for help poorly disguised as "bad decisions", and the resulting panic attacks after years of feeling free that I realized I'm not my own healer. I can delve into the deepest pits of my soul and dig at my hurt until there's none left, I can read dozens and dozens of self-help books with doves and cups of well-staged coffee on them, and yet somehow it's never gonna make me fully new. My newness doesn't come from me. It comes from something much, much bigger.

If you've been struggling with anxiety, if you're in a relapse, you are not a failure. You are not too sick, too scared, too far gone to be reached. You are not a burden to your church or to your family. You are not too much or too little for somebody to love you. You're gonna be okay. Deep breaths. Nothing is ever too big.

Reach out to somebody. Become the kind of person that others can reach out to, be the safe haven that you would have needed. You're going to be amazed at how many people know exactly what it's like to go through what you've gone through.

Anxiety is not a death sentence to be carried out alone. Anxiety is not going to have power over you forever. Anxiety is not bigger than the One Who Loves Most. If you don't know anybody safe in your life to talk about how you're feeling, or if you aren't ready to talk about it yet with the people closest to you, my inbox is always open. You can reach me here.

Monday, October 16, 2017

So You Keep Making Mistakes.

Monday, October 16, 2017

Sometimes I wish I could just pull up a chair, brew some tea, and get cozy with each of you. The older and wiser (HA!) I get, the more I realize I'm not interesed in having shallow conversations that lead to nobody changing or growing or getting their heart filled. I feel like I've been through too much and seen too many people go through the same things over and over to think that staying silent or keeping those poisons inside is going to help anybody, like, ever.

So let's pretend it's me in front of you - probably with frizzy hair and some kind of horrible "I-forgot-to-put-on-real-shoes-before-I-left-campus" socks and sandals combination. But freaky footwear aside, here's what I think you need to know. Let me encourage you for a second.

I know that life is hard. I know that living a life after God can be really hard. I wish more people would admit that - and then let that spur them on to do their very best to find the joy anyway. To bless others anyway. To encourage fellow believers anyway. I've been thinking a lot about what I would say if a younger version of myself came to me and said, "But Beth - this doesn't seem worth it. I'm not changing. In fact, some days I feel worse. I don't feel like I'm going anywhere and I don't feel like God is on my side."

And for you right now, you might be reading this and thinking, "Well, there it is." You keep making mistakes. You don't feel like you're changing. You feel like you're doomed to be the same striving person forever, never seeing real growth - or seeing temporary growth and then falling right back the next time something gets in your way.

I think we make a big miscalculation when we measure our "holiness" or "goodness" based on how visible our sin symptoms are. I'm not saying that it's not important to be righteous and flee from all things that keep us from becoming like Jesus. Please keep doing that. But what I am saying is often we think - if I just stop doing this sinful thing, then I'm okay. Then God can love me. We think the mistakes in and of themselves are the problem. We don't look at the cause and the circumstance and the history behind them. We don't look at what's really creeping into our heart and making its bed there.

Look at your heart. Look at what comes out of it. Pour yourself into knowing who God is. Cling to what is good. God is perfecting you slowly, but the process isn't supposed to look perfect. Practice being authentically kind before you focus on just not doing whatever thing it is you're trying to stop doing. Practice being a servant. Practice throwing away your selfish reclusiveness and reach out so somebody who needs it. Practice producing fruit of the Spirit unapologetically. These things don't have to be big, vibrant gestures. They can be small. But practice them. As they start to become markers of who you are, watch how suddenly the thing you were trying to stop doing grows smaller and smaller in your life.

So when you keep making mistakes, and you're painfully aware that who you are and who you want to be don't match up - remember this. Remember you're in process. Remember Jesus - remember who he says you are, and know you're already new.

Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory.
We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love. Romans 5:1-5

Also, - 2 Peter 1:1-10.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

It's Been A Horrible Summer

Sunday, September 3, 2017

I'm currently sitting on the floor of my room, surrounded by boxes, and more piles of clothes my minimalist-wannabe heart wants to admit I own. It's a pretty good reflection of how chaotic my mind and heart feels right now. I thought of titling this post something a bit more poetic - but you know that point of exhaustion you reach sometimes where just the barest, simplest explanation is all you can muster? Yeah. That's me right now. And it has been a horrible summer.

Heartache. Emptiness. Loneliness. Sickness. Selfishness. Weariness. I've felt them all in these past few months. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes all at once. And if I was going to put a poetic title on this post, it would probably sound something like, "WHO AM I NOW". I'm not the same Beth I used to be. I hurt. I ache. I'm tired. So much pain, everywhere. And no one thing is the cause but rather a thousand things at once, many out of my control and a few very selfish things that were very much in my control. A butterfly effect of misery, honestly. And still, God is faithful. Still, through it all, I hear the words whispered to my heart.

Oh, darling. You're already forgiven.

A few days ago, I had spent most of the morning rehashing each and every mess up I had made personally, and in my faith, over the past few months. Like a movie reel on repeat - Beth Atkinson Starring in: Colossal Failure, which had quickly turned into a double feature - Colossal Failure II. I'm sure they'll be working on yet another a sequel soon.

How could I be this person? How did I get here? How many more mistakes is it going to take? I was acutely aware that I had failed. That I was unworthy.

But - "Oh darling. You're already forgiven." stopped me in my tracks. Lord? What do you mean I'm already forgiven?

Isn't that cheating? Don't I deserve to pay a penance?

You've already been forgiven. The price has already been paid.

After all this time - after everything I've learned in my own life, in church, through this blog - I have realized that I still don't understand grace. I needed that reminder. Yes, I had confessed my sin. Yes, I was doing my darndest to move forward and cling to the cross any way that I could. Yet I still felt like I needed to be punished. Over and over. That I should just give up and wallow in all my self pity and shame, and be doomed to pay for my mistakes no matter how much time passed or how often I had repented.

Dearest. If that's you today - you need to know. Forgiveness is free. God's love covers over every part of you. His grace is sufficient. And once you belong to Him - there's nothing you can do to remove yourself from his arms. You aren't stuck where you are. Let the gospel remind you that once you ask for genuine forgiveness - it's yours. Slate clean.

Stop beating yourself up. It's gonna be hard. It will require work, it will require sacrifice. But that's the glorious path. You've made the commitment to become so much more than what you are on your own. And trust me - from a gal who is exceptional at trying to be better on her own - you're never going to do it. No matter how far you've gone, you can always come back. No place is too dark or too broken or too scarred to be changed and made into a new, holy, beautiful thing. You think your secret wasn't known before time began? You think that your shame is too big? The price was paid a long time ago. You don't have to carry the weight of it all anymore.

Because, darling, forgiveness is yours. All you've ever needed to do is ask.

Friday, September 1, 2017

I Am An Idiot About 100% Of The Time | Phil Miller

Friday, September 1, 2017

In the six years that I’ve been walking with God I’ve learned many lessons, gone through personal growth, and received plenty of grace for the times I forget who I am in Christ. Over this past year, if there’s one thing that I can point out as the most important thing He’s taught me - is that I’m an idiot about 100% of the time and the He loves me anyway.

It’s funny how the Christian walk goes. At first thought you’d think that the longer a person has known Christ, the more he/she would feel like a saint. But in reality, in my own experience, the more that I’ve grown to know God, His Word, and myself, the more I realize how crappy I am as a person. In the first couple of years after becoming a Christian, my arrogance and pride made it super easy to trick myself into thinking God had made me into a perfect person already. I elevated myself over others, acted like I knew everything, and wasn’t real with how horrible I actually was.

But the more I got to know the Bible, the more my knowledge of sin increased and, little by little, I realized how much of an actual loser I am on my own.

With all of this self-realization happening over the last couple years, I had a real hard time struggling with guilt and doubt. I came to the point where I found it really easy to believe that God would forgive and love others, but never actually believed He would forgive me for my sins after committing to follow Him. I would find myself sitting in my own self-pity, wondering if I’d ever “get back” to the good old Phil I was when I first decided to follow Jesus. That was until I God caught my attention through a guy named Paul in Romans 7.

God taught me that even though I am a believer, I will still struggle with sin since I still live in the flesh. Super encouraging, huh? Well, where the amazing part comes in is in the truth that immediately follows this passage: no matter how badly I mess up, I can’t do anything that takes away what Jesus did for me (Romans 8:1).

God’s made it abundantly clear to me that it is because of His doing that I have the privilege of knowing Him through His Son (John 6:37). Since it is because of Him that I can be a child of God, it is because of Him that I continue to be one even in my shortcomings. I suck at being a decent person on my own, but God still calls me His own no matter how I’m feeling. So moving forward I now know that it is important to remember who I am and what I know. I am no longer the Phil I once was (Galatians 2:20), but am new. And even when I feel stuck in a rut, God hasn’t given up on me (Philippians 1:6). Grace over sin.

Monday, August 28, 2017

When You Question Your Worth | Tat Blackburn

Monday, August 28, 2017

About 3 years ago, I bookmarked one of my favourite blog posts to my browser so that I could go back to it whenever I needed it.

I need it often.

It's a blog post about worth and worth is something I question almost daily. I'm sure you do too.

When did questioning start for you? Did someone hurt you when you were young? Did a boyfriend or girlfriend or best friend break your heart somewhere along the line? Did someone act as if they didn't care? Did someone tell you that you had to be better or speak smarter or do more? Did you start comparing yourself to those who seemed to have it all together? Did someone tell you that you weren't enough?

My dear friend, when did you start believing that you were worth nothing?

I don't know who you are or what your story is but I'm here to tell you, that annoying little voice that's telling you you're worthless is a lie straight from the pit of hell.

Friend, you're significant not because of what you've done or said or what you will do or say in the future. You're significant simply because of who you are.

You are smart and you have things to contribute to this world.

You are beautiful and a magical work of art.

You are kind and full of grace and a blessing to those around you.

You are all these things and more and even if you don't contribute something incredible and life changing on this earth, you'll still be all these things and more.

You're allowed to have bad days and you're allowed to have a day (or fifty) where nothing goes right - that doesn’t change how much you're valued.

That's the beautiful thing, love. Your worth doesn't change no matter what you do. You're valuable and significant simply because you are, because you exist.

I hope you know that today and everyday. I hope you find a way to remind yourself of that and that one day, the questioning will stop and you'll just know how valuable, significant and worthy you are.

Friday, August 11, 2017

Show Me Your Glory | Josiah Rock

Friday, August 11, 2017

For the past few weeks I’ve been reading through Exodus and I’ve learned more about worship than I ever have. And let me first say that I was not expecting Exodus to be a book that taught me how to worship. Maybe the faithfulness of God. Maybe why trusting in the goodness of God is absolutely crucial. But worship? Not really. Then I got to 33:18, when Moses pleads with Yahweh God, “Lord, please show me your glory.”

Please show me your glory.

I have so much respect for that. He could have asked for a lot of things. He could have asked for more water because they were in a desert. He could have asked for better leadership skills or more cooperative people. But no, Moses was so in awe of God that all he wanted to see was the majesty of Him. That’s how I want to be 100% of the time. In awe.

Okay, so that part stopped me in my tracks, BUT IT GETS BETTER. God’s response to Moses blows my mind, and it should blow yours too. He says back, and I’m paraphrasing, “Sure, but here’s the thing. I can only let you see a tiny glimpse of a fraction of my glory because no person can see my glory and live.”

WHAT.

God’s glory is so awesome, so powerful, so beyond words that we can literally not handle it. I have a God-given guarantee that I would die if I saw the fullness of the glory of God right now. That is wild. The realization that God is far beyond my highest thought of Him is groundbreaking for me, honestly. He is so beyond description that these words I’m typing right now can’t even get 1% of the way to describing it. His glory is infinitely greater than my ability to fathom, and knowing that has changed my life.

The reason I say all of this is because it’s changed the way I worship. It’s changed the way I view worship. It’s changed how I prepare to worship. I was slapped with the realization that I was guilty of subconsciously thinking of the church music team as the “opening band before the keynote speaker”. Not even close. Worship music isn’t there so that we can see a concert or to get us in a churchy mood. It is so much more than that. Worship is the pure ascription of worth that is due God. And He deserves it all, not because he needs a little weekly self-esteem boost or because he likes good tunes. He deserves it because of who He is. And He is infinitely glorious.

Friday, August 4, 2017

Rest | Anna Loewen

Friday, August 4, 2017

Friend, I am exhausted.

I'm so tired of striving. Tired of sinning. Tired of living as a slave to how I think others perceive me. (Which is a pointless exercise, by the way.) Tired of the thousands of people I deal with every day at work. Just tired.

And I bet you are too.

If you, like me, are trying to tick off a dozen little boxes and accomplish 762 things at once, I see you.

The thing is... I was afraid to rest. Afraid that if I rested, I would run out of time to do what I needed to do. "I'll rest when I'm done," I thought, "I just don't have time to rest right now. There's too much to get done."

Well honey, let me tell you! Was I ever wrong. Because now here I am, my first thought in the morning something along the lines of...

"Lord help me stay awake at work today."

Or better...

"Lord help me not punch anyone at work today."

Just kidding. But kind of.....

Seasons come and go.

In some seasons I "fake rested" because I was afraid to truly rest. In some seasons, I just kept running, as if maybe I will be the one exception on this planet, and perhaps maybe I'll get by without resting. In some seasons, I have to spend 10 hours a day at work. In those seasons, the to-do lists stack up. The feelings of failure gnaw away at my heart. And the last thing I have time for is a nap. But friend, I need a nap. No phone, some fresh air, and a glass of iced tea sounds like an absolute slice of heaven right now.

I know it's hard. Trust me, I don't have time to rest either. But we need to. Don't worry about developing a rhythm of Sabbath yet. You don't need another thing on your to-do list to accomplish. But you'll get there, don't worry. Soon you'll delight in rest. I promise.

I'll leave you with a quote that I love from the wonderful ladies at She Reads Truth,

"Cling to Jesus and do the next best thing."

And if you’re tired of failing, here’s a verse to rest your heart.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Jesus Is Risky.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017