PLEASE LOVE ME + other lies I hold onto

PLEASE LOVE ME + other lies I hold onto

Thursday, May 17, 2018

When I was twelve I remember scaling the local library shelves for hours looking for the most interesting books. I love libraries - the smell, the crusty new-age librarian ladies, the magazine racks of VOGUE and Chatelaine and Seventeen magazine, the comic books and the really dusty and tattered Shakespeare plays in Ye Olde English Print - were all part of my little childhood dreamscape. One day I found a book in the Teen section called "How to Win Friends and Influence People, Jr." and my curiosity couldn't contain itself. I read all about body language, smiling, how to be a good conversationalist and what other people looked for in a friend. (sounds kind of like a serial killer, no? or maybe I've just been watching too much Hannibal)

I was homeschooled and "artsy" in middle school - during the age of stretchy tube tops, sticky lipgloss and msn. You know that scene in Shopaholic where Isla Fisher's mom is talking about sensible shoes? That's something I know all too well (in hindsight - thank you for thinking about arch-support, Mom. I'm grateful)

What I found in the library that day made me feel as though I had found The Key ✨ to making my life as shiny and glossy as the fashion magazines that I adored. (Jeanne Beker, if you're reading this, please be my friend) I think that there's something in everyone that wants to be well-liked, respected, or carry some level of influence. Being the It-Girl or the quintessential cool girl is intoxicating, forcing a desperate five seconds of fame onto anybody who desires to be known. I know that I still have parts of me that want to be known (by what, by who, is another conversation). Our hearts want to captivate something - to capture the adoration of the people we love. Often its not driven by something bad per se. We all want to be at home and accepted here.

Flash forward to my early adulthood, and I'd become somewhat of a small talk master. I learned in my teens that if I couldn't be pretty or wealthy, I should be funny and friendly instead. I realized I had a knack for making a good impression. I became that person who knew everybody, and everybody knew me. Instagram, man. What an invention. I joined the social media scene right when it was hitting the world's main stage - at such a critical time, I quickly became savvy. Don't even ask me if I plan my insta layouts ahead of time. Uoekno that I do. 

But after many steps back, social media breaks, 3am tear stained who-am-I-and-what-am-I-doing-with-my-life-and-why-did-I-say-like-twelve-stupid-things-yesterday conversations with God I've come to terms with the fact that yes, I am a people pleaser. And yes - a people pleaser doesn't always look like what you think it does.

I thought because I was strong and decisive I couldn't be a people pleaser. I thought I wasn't a people pleaser because I could say, "no". All the while my inner mantra and my outer actions screamed; "Everyone! Please love me! Please love me! Please love me!!!" 

Look at how nice I am. Look, I'm funny and fun to be around! I don't have any problems - I certainly don't talk about those problems - I have cute clothes and nice hair and my teeth are really really white! Look at this plant I just bought that I have no idea how to take care of because I only wanted to take a picture of it! Look, it's my feet on a tile floor! Look I like black coffee! Smile for the camera! Please love me!

It's exhausting.

So, I decided to go on a vulnerability journey. I wanted to find me under the veil of my people pleasing and plans of perfection. And like any good hipsta I took a look at my life and tried to get rid of the excess - get to the core of who I am and how I was made, and try to stick to that. So I stopped wearing makeup every day, and eating meat, and I got rid of 90% of my clothes, and I started writing about my feelings on the internet. Duh. (just kidding - there was also a lot of reflection, heartache, mistakes, and spiritual growth and turn-over that happened in the midst of all that)

And that's the reaaaallly short version. But it's not by any means a solution to my problem, which I'm realizing. Kind of while I'm reflecting and writing this post. Like, get this. I'm just as much of an inner mess with three tee shirts and a devotional plan compared to when I owned forty-six and never read the bible??? R U KIDDING ME. Right now I'm in the midst of planning a wedding (MY wedding. Ah!!!) and it's killing me a little inside. I thought I was over the pursuit of perfection and the people pleasing. I thought I was fine with accepting myself as I am and giving myself space to be. I THOUGHT I COULD HANDLE THE PRESSURE. GUESS WHAT, I CAN'T HANDLE THE PRESSURE.

If you're reading this and you thought you were over the lies, over the pleasing, and over the false perfection of it all - and then one big (or small) thing happened and you're sent into a tailspin of Please love me, World! - I get you. The attitude of please love me and the lies that come with it is pervasive and even encouraged in our society. Let's be people who give care, concern, and compassion to those that need it - let's be people who are joyful in themselves even if it's not as inviting or glamorous as we'd like to make it seem. Who don't shy away when we see someone else's mess (including our own).

Let's take a deep breath and say no to our own lies. Command those thoughts! I know you have it in you. And if you don't, I know the One who can strengthen you so you can. I love in Ephesians where it says to throw off your old way of life and let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes. I need that really badly these days. I know that my new nature and my new life in Christ means that I don't have to reach a standard of perfection created by human hands (or, just my own). As much as I hate this idea, not everybody is going to love me. No matter how badly I try and impress, charm, and please my way into their hearts. I will try and deceive my way into being liked - I'll use the fear of missing out (that's a new term for an old concept - hello, LUST) to get people to think I'm something special. But the gospel puts the breaks on my behavior and reminds me of who I am.

I am whole, unique, not too much - not too little - but just right. I am new, ever-growing, and I am passionately and recklessly loved. 

Screw $600 wedding centerpieces. 

For When You Forget Why

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

Beauty 101

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. 

I Cried A Lot In 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. 

Where Do You Go

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.

It's Okay To Be A Cliche

It's Okay To Be A Cliche

Monday, July 3, 2017

Listen. It's okay to be a cliche.

I am queen of the post-breakup haircuts and eating ice cream in bed. When things go bad I spend more time outside to "find myself" and "soul search" (hello, the past two months of my life). I'm queen of trying the latest health food or workout craze and telling my friends over brunch that it's LITERALLY, changing my life (real talk though - I just started drinking kombucha and oh my goodness!!) I am all about those pictures of an open bible and black coffee with a quote from Spurgeon or Piper or Elisabeth Elliot. I love, love! those artsy mom blogger Instagrams of their feet with long captions about being authentic.

No matter what your niche is, your style or aesthetic, you're never going to be the only person doing it. There's nothing new under the sun. Our culture is constantly fighting to be the "it" girl, guy, product, trend, anything really. FOMO, the fear of missing out, being boring or not unique - is a scary thought, especially in the "age of attention" we're living in. The idea that you, OBVIOUSLY A VERY UNIQUE INDIVIDUAL DUHH, could be fading into the background and overshadowed by anybody else - becoming a boring cliche - is probably the biggest nightmare of our socially programmed hearts. 

I'm on a journey to quit striving. Loving Jesus is not about being the best, taking up all the attention, and being on top. It's not cool in the "trendy" sense and we never should pretend it is. I'm tired of meeting new people and trying to decide whether I'm going to drop the "Jesus-bomb" and let them know how huge He is in my life - and worry about whether they're going to think I'm less important or less valuable because of what they think of my faith. I'd love to be the person that changes their minds about what Christians are supposed to be like. You know what things we should be making cliche about Christians? That we listen too much, genuinely care for people - even when it's uncomfortable, and pursue goodness. Now that's a cliche I want to get behind.  

Whatever cliche it is you're rocking - whatever space you're striving to occupy - I hope and I pray that it's you merely being the best you. Don't become something because you think you should. A lot of things that become popular or seem like the latest trend become those things for a reason. The key is you must discern why when and for who it's trending. Why when and for who's line you're towing. If you're taking that instagram picture of your bible and coffee because what you're reading is blowing your mind and you're dying to share it, do it. I am right behind you.  But if it's because the cute worship leader just started following you, maybe save it for another time. 

If something is uplifting, brings unity, and helps you to become better for the right reasons, we should do that thing. Repeatedly. With gusto. We should support each other. If you see someone getting excited or passionate about something, support it. Take a break from your black turtleneck and hand-ground coffee beans for a second and love that person. Don't scoff when you see a picture of a salad or a motivational quote while you're scrolling. Open your heart. Quit striving. Because it's okay to be a cliche. 

Love the things that you love for the right reasons, and use them to love others too. 

When Even The Baby Steps Are Hard

When Even The Baby Steps Are Hard

Thursday, June 22, 2017

"There is one body and one Spirit--just as you were called to one hope when you were called--one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all."

Man. Sometimes I really need the gospel preached to my heart, over and over. 

I need the Spirit to wash over my soul and give me the hope and peace and happiness I can't manufacture on my own. 

I need moments of desperation to bring me back to thankfulness and perseverance. 

Right now, the baby steps are hard. In my last post I opened up about the struggles I've been having these past few months when it comes to my purpose, and if I'm really cut out for ministry and serving with my life. I thought that merely understanding my "burnout" would solve my problem. But that's only half the battle. For the first time in my short time as a believer, church has been hard. Serving has been hard. Loving has been hard. I'm tired. I feel like I have nothing left to give. But what I'm learning is that this - how we handle these desperate moments - is what defines those whom Jesus calls. I may not be perfect, but I will persevere. I will choose to do the next right thing - simply, I will put one foot in front of the other and cling to the cross with whatever strength I can muster. 

I was called to one hope. I was called to one Lord. One faith. One baptism. To the God and Father of all. The one who has it all in his hands, who is over all, through all, and in all. 

Some days that's all I can whisper to myself as I battle my empty. Other days I sing it from the rooftops and dance around my kitchen, unable to contain the joy that I have. Faith isn't one or the other - it's both. I'm learning that struggling does not equal failing. If you need a little bit of encouragement in your walk today, I hope you know that you're not alone. You have hope. There's something bigger than any of us and any problem that we could have working over it all, through it all, and in it all. So when even the baby steps of living are weighing you down, know you don't have to carry it all. You're never stuck. You can do this. 

You have hope. 

When Cars Drive Through Walls & There's Nothing You Can Do About It

When Cars Drive Through Walls & There's Nothing You Can Do About It

Monday, June 12, 2017

A few years ago I had a job that mostly involved staring at a computer screen and talking about wine stains.
I hated it. 
It wasn't a bad job - but I was thirsty for a deep heart change. It was a season for me that was dry. I felt alone, desperately insecure, and dizzily unsure about where my life was headed. I had potential. I had a calling. But I did not like myself. I was weighed down with so much pain and past hurt that I felt stuck. 

And then a car shot right through the front of the building I was working in. 

I still remember my thoughts as it happened. First, "What--?". Then; nothing. I didn't feel anything as I watched the car, in slow motion, rev over the curb and then seeing the wall bend and crack in front of me. I was less than three feet away.

In that moment I realized - this is happening, and there's nothing I can do about it. And it wasn't just about the immediate danger. I was already on the threshold of "no turning back" when it came to how desperate my life was looking. No feelings of fear or panic, nothing moved in my cold little heart. I was already staring at rubble, just now it was in the literal place I was standing.

And sometimes, life just throws things at you. For me it was a cheap homestyle parody of a Fast and Furious movie tied to years of emotional baggage and some good old fashioned heart tearing. For you it could be your parents divorce. No money for tuition. Job loss. A break up. Something you didn't see coming and now you're left numb, standing, staring and wanting to scream, "Hey God, really? I didn't ask for this!" 

And in your heart you know that He is good. Your head knowledge tells you that there is a plan. But right now you're overwhelmed with the pieces and don't know if you even want to pick them up again.

I've been there. I'm back there again. And I'm going to tell you that it will be okay.

What I'm not going to tell you is a five step plan. I can't say that healing is just a mirror mantra and some bible verses away, or that you need to tough it out and keep everything together. Sorrow and silence never make a good pair.

When I'm feeling spent and tired and questioning whether I even have what it takes to do this whole Jesus thing, what I really need is for someone to say the battle is already won. There's a lot of comfort to be found in saying "Dude. This sucks." and have the person next to you say, "Yeah. It does suck."

Because I know I need Jesus, but I also need his people. Thank goodness we don't get to choose one or the other.

Feelings change, circumstances waver, and cars can totally drive through walls for no reason. And most of the time all you have the power to do is watch. That's why we need to be here. Keep our eyes open. Do what it takes to be soft. Be willing to listen, say "this sucks", and stay put. You don't have to be a superhero or perfect or know the right things to say. Whether its your wall that's broken or you're helping somebody rebuild theirs - in my experience your imperfections make it a whole lot easier to be vulnerable, to listen and to hear. It's hard. It's rarely fun. But it's a part of what we're called to do. It's how we're supposed to share in community. Jesus, + his people. That's what it's all about.

I'm Really Embarrassed.

I'm Really Embarrassed.

Thursday, June 1, 2017

I was really embarrassed when I started writing this. 

I’ve always thought that “burnout” is something that happened to old people. People who had done their time. Or people who didn’t have a loving community to rely on, people who let their faith walk through sheer neglect turn into just a faith talk.

I thought burnout was a code word for tired and bored — a code word for “not cut out for this”. 

Over the past few months I’ve been battling against something I didn’t have a name for. I felt lonely, sad, angry, hopeless. I described it to a friend as a slump. “This just isn’t me — I’m not like this. Why can't I shake it off this time?” Kept running over and over in my head. I thought I just needed to add fifteen more minutes to my morning devotions. I thought I needed to keep another log book and try extra hard to make sure my time spent with God was “more meaningful”. I thought “if I keep trying, get rid of this or that distraction, distance myself, yet speak more, pray more, love harder, be softer, I'll eventually get over this.” 

It wasn't until I had probably one of the biggest break downs I've ever had that I realized, gurl. You need to stop. 

There's nothing quite like sobbing ugly, slobbery, Kim Kardashian tears and screeching; "I can't do it. I'm so tired. I don't know what the point of it all is. I don't want to live like this anymore." into your mom's lap to signal you're looking right into the pit of a no-good, burnt out valley. And it's nothing new.

I ran myself ragged at school. I came home and was trying to do the same thing. Sign up for this event, speak here, lead that, volunteer with this. Take that 3am phone call. Mediate that conversation. Write a blog post a week and work a full time job. Date enough so you look like you're trying but not too much so you don't look desperate. I was trying to have the wisdom and poise of a sixty five year old, be in the stable life position of a forty-five year old, and look like a twenty five year old, athletic, "oh I just woke up like this" beauty queen. Guys, I'm barely even twenty. In many ways I'm still a kid. (And let me tell ya, I did not wake up like this.)

What I really needed was to take my own advice. Stop for a second. Breath. (Funny how the wisdom we give often times is the wisdom we need preached most to our own hearts?) I didn't need to be more spiritual or read another book. I needed to take a dang nap and turn my phone off.

I could turn around and blame society. Social media. Church culture. God. I could blame myself for not being the best. For not "looking high enough heavenward" like all the popular evangelical blogs tell me to do.

But to be truthful - the enemy was none of those things. The enemy was not my ineptitude. The enemy was me, Beth, desperately trying to be mine and everybody else's saviour. It's the crack cocaine of serving, isn't it? Doing everything with excellence was my personal mantra. Show no weakness. Show no fear. Be salt and light and everything else in between, and look dang good while doing it. Looking back I can see all the signs of burnout as clear as the blue sky above me. 

So today I'm breaking the cycle. I'm learning to say no graciously. It's going to be really hard - and I don't know if there will come a time when I find myself here again down the road. Serendipitously, A babe friend of mine sent me this quote right when I needed it, and if you're reading this like Preaaach Beth! Saaaaame! maybe you need to hear it too;

"Learning how to say no with kindness to the things not meant for us, yields the freedom to say yes to the things we are called to carry."

If you are facing burnout, I'm right with you. The signs are there. You can probably feel it in the pit of your stomach. So let's rest - like really rest - and make it a part of our ministry rhythm. My resting currently looks like sleeping under the stars and drinking purified river water. Yours could be spending time with your family, building something, or just lying on the couch doing diddly squat for a day. Let's humble ourselves - swallow that pride and shame - and dare to admit that we aren't perfect and never will be. Tell each other that it's okay, so we can be our healthiest and get back to the point of it all - to wholeheartedly serve others and to love God. 

Some Letters Need To Be Burned

Some Letters Need To Be Burned

Thursday, May 11, 2017

I have a strange habit of keeping things. Not in a hoarder way, or a practical mom-always-saves-the-wrapping-paper way. But I like to go back and remember some of my best of times (and occasionally worst - I definitely kept my grade five diary with the badly drawn pictures of my childhood self kissing Corbin Bleu, that thing is gonna be comedic gold someday...).

These things are all mementos - pictures in frames, heart shaped rocks, dirt from places I've visited, shells and seaglass, handmade birthday cards. I keep every one. 

Some of the things I keep aren't just physical objects. Sometimes they're memories. Sometimes they're thought patterns and sin that I let run around aimlessly and destructively in my own head. 

And that's where I am tonight. And where I find myself constantly. What am I holding onto that's keeping me from the arms of Jesus? What do I keep running back to, over and over, instead of running to the One who loves me most? 

You see, not everything we cling to needs to be kept. Some letters need to be burned. Some memories need to be chucked into a lake (SAY IT AGAIN FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK). Because as much as we want to relive and reignite and remember, those things aren't moving us forward. They're not bringing us closer to Christ. In fact, they become a shackle of destruction. A blockage that keeps us from the joy, peace, and hope that we desperately thirst for. And there is joy, peace, and hope in abundance, ready for us as soon as we ask.

 So let's burn those letters, delete those numbers, and put those ex-boyfriend's sweaters in a box. Let go of your bitterness, let go of your jealousy and walk with your head high - free from shame. We've tasted and seen. We know He is good. And now, above all other things, we cling to Him. Moving constantly forward. Let's run to Jesus. 

I Wish Gardening Was Real Life

I Wish Gardening Was Real Life

Monday, May 8, 2017

I have a glorious week off ahead of me. So far it's been spent outside and with good books. Everything I missed about living in the country is now flooding back (did it ever really leave? I'll always be a country gal at heart I guess), and I'm filling each second with all the baking and gardening and hiking I can. It's been a dream. I'm loving the simpleness of these last few bits of freedom - before reality hits and I head back to work and then school and then life.

When I'm working outside, dirt under my nails and big spoon in hand (my fix for a trowel... pretty sure my dad has the good trowel stashed away somewhere that I'm too short to reach...) I love how straightforward and methodical everything is. Once I get into a rhythm - "weed this, plant this here, snip this" - everything just sort of happens. Sure, sometimes I get stumped about what to do and how to do it, but there are books and ancient wisdom (ahem, I mean Google) for that. Problem solving is easy when I have all the resources I need and all the time I could ever want to figure things out. 

But that's not the way things are when it comes to doing life together and living in community as a family (whatever all that jargon means after it's been beaten to death). I wish the cure for sin was just to stop sinning. I wish the cure for temptation was to just stop being tempted. I wish that less things were left to individual biblical interpretation (am I still allowed to write a Jesus-focused blog if I wear yoga pants??? Should I even be asking that question???). I wish I knew how to put "lukewarm" Christians and "on-fire" Christians into boxes so that grace never allows anybody to grow or stumble and I can keep my bias and my comfortable stereotypes. I wish that I could know the right thing to say to every hurting person I have the privilege of sitting with. 

And that's why I need Jesus. Because not everything is going to be black and white. And not every person is going to live up to or exceed my expectations. I can't predict the future and I can't know a person's heart just by looking at what's on the surface. But I can seek. I can place my dependence. I can listen. And you can bet all the fancy trowels in the world that I can always pray about it. I can thank God for his faithfulness in every situation. His goodness and his favour. His never ending grace, and his constant shaping of me and my heart. 

I could never in my pride describe working with people as simple or straightforward, or that you merely need to "have the knack for it". It's complicated. I have no idea what I'm doing. But at the end of the day I have to put my eyes on the One who it's all for. So thank goodness I don't have a handle on life like I do on gardening. Thank you Jesus for forcing me to rely, to rest. He's the one my soul must adore. He has overcome the world. 

Conduits, Not Counterfeits

Conduits, Not Counterfeits

Monday, April 24, 2017

I've just realized something.

Sometimes when I feel lonely, rejected, ignored or less than, I try and find an external way to get the validation I think that I need. It looks like posting a "hot" selfie. It looks like making my status a quote from a theological book. Sometimes it looks like flirting or going on dates with guys that I have no intention of texting back. Or it looks like stalking other girls on the internet, comparing and judging them in order to make myself feel better. 

Horrible, right? Disgusting, even. Yet we all do it. We pimp ourselves out to a world that doesn't have the power to give us the comfort and belonging that we so desperately need.

I've been thinking a lot about this over the past month. I keep asking myself, "Beth, is what you're about to do God-honouring? Are you trying to sell yourself because you want attention? Where are you trying to get all this validation from?" I feel like I should know better. I feel like I'm exactly the product of the culture I try to tell people to fight against. I feel like a fake.

The truth is, we don't have to resort to comparison in order to make ourselves feel good or bad. I don't need to punish myself because my skin isn't clear enough, my hair not shiny enough, and my body not fit enough. Because that's not what worth is. When we let ourselves sit in these destructive cycles, we completely lose sight of where our worth comes from. We forget who we are.

We forget who God is.

Please. Don't forget who you are. Don't forget who made you. Let's shift our focus from ourselves and our pride, our insecurity, and point it on the One who made us perfectly. Focus on the right now and the person across from you, focus on what you can do rather than what you can't. We were made to display God's glory through our lives, our thoughts, and our actions. Be a conduit. Not a counterfeit. 

When It Rains, It Pours.

When It Rains, It Pours.

Monday, March 6, 2017

I think there's an art to knowing the right thing to say, at the right time. Or at least sounding like you do. 

My Dad and Grandpa seem to have this skill mastered. Something would happen, like a scraped knee or broken tire-swing, and it would shake up my little world. And they'd have a phrase or saying that made it all better. 

As I got older I started to appreciate these handy sayings less and less - a stormy eyed teenager's wrath isn't much appeased by "That's jus' the way she goes." in response to unfairness or what I thought was the worst injustice in the whole world (honestly, knowing my teenage self, it probably had more to do with me being allowed to wear jeans with holes in them than actual injustice). And when the tears started to fall, oh baby, did I ever hate hearing my Dad chuckle and declare confidently, "When it rains, it pours." 

This past little while has definitely been a season of raining and pouring. I woke up this morning to fog and slick grass to remind me of the showers last night - both in the world outside and the world inside my head. Sometimes your day goes bad to worse and heads straight into dead-awful. One of the hardest things I'm trying to reconcile in my confused brain is how there's a grand, almighty plan behind all of what's happening in my life and in my heart. I used to believe that any situation can be solved by the right amount of love and grace interwoven, and even the most difficult circumstances can be reasoned with by truth.

I've learned now that it doesn't always happen that way. And sometimes, no matter what you do, there's never going to be a perfect solution where everyone walks away encouraged or at least hopeful. 

Maybe I'll never learn the art of having the right things to say at the right time. I'm okay with that. And maybe a little raining and pouring is what I really need right now - even though it doesn't feel like it. 

So even though circumstances have got my heart hurting and seeking, and I've got red and purple cry-eyes big time (not even all the Pinterest home-remedies can save me now), I know I'm not in charge. I'm not the one who has the plan. Even though it looks to me like there's no good to come out of these circumstances, for anybody - I have to trust. 

___________________________________________________

This is what Purpose of Grace blog is all about. Another one of those cheesy-fits-the-moment-quotes I hear all the time goes like this; "Grow through what you go through." Even though I'm struggling, I gotta choose to grow and become more like Jesus. Even though I'm doubting and seeking and trying to figure out what's going to happen next, I praise God for his plan and I praise Him because he knows infinitely more about this than I do. His timing is perfect. His ways are perfect. And he commits to the good of those who love him - and he doesn't leave them lost or lonely. 

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Give It a Rest.

Give It a Rest.

Monday, February 13, 2017

I can't believe I'm still surprised when things don't go as planned.

Today I dropped my phone in the toilet. All of my committee notes, important school documents, meeting details, my event calendar, blog post ideas, stock photos, graphics, pictures, were accessible on that phone. I think my one grey hair just gained a twin. I'm annoyed, a little bit embarrassed, and a lottle bit frustrated at the entire, big, ugly, world.

So, here I am. At my school's cafe, staring at a computer screen, and trying hard not to cry. I have a million and one things to do today, and all those things just got the smidgenenest harder. If I was three years old I'd be stomping my foot right now. And if my mom were here, she would say it was time to put my big girl pants on. Somebody hand me a green tea, stat.

Crazily, these are the moments where I find my faith most tested. No no, I don't mean in the truly hardest times I don't struggle. But in these little things - and I mean little. I know for a fact this won't matter much to me by March or April - that's when my heart needs the biggest reality check. That's when I need to draw closer to the Father.

As I'm writing this, I'm remembering a conversation I had with two friends last night all about God's timing for our humbling. It's never our own. And that's why it teaches us something, that's why, instead of crying and stomping my feet - I'm taking deep breaths. It's time for me to rest. Rest in the idea that maybe I don't need to have it all together. Rest in the fact that some things, like iPhones and toilets, are out of my control.

Maybe you need to rest too.

It's hard being on the ball, all the time. It's hard trying to plan and discuss and protect so that nothing ever goes wrong. My gut reaction to life snags like this is to stop the entire world so I can rearrange it as if nothing happened. But what happens when something really does? All that energy, all that worry, all that business for the sake of business proves itself to be worth nothing. And I never seem to learn, every time. Thanks for your humbling, Lord. Just when I was flying high on myself and my accomplishments, one false dance move to Alt-J in front of my bathroom mirror sent all my worldly dreams into the literal toilet. I got the message, loud and clear.

So today I'm stopping. I'm resting in God's everlasting favour. I'm making a new plan - one that gives room for failure, mistakes, and growth. A plan that isn't lead by my own will, but the will of my saviour. Funny how one sad little iPhone in a rice bucket can remind me of where I still need to grow.

Foot, Meet Mouth.

Foot, Meet Mouth.

Monday, November 28, 2016

Have you ever had one of those times where you gave advice too soon; when it wasn't the right thing to say or do in that moment? Have you ever gotten caught up in your own perfectly spiritualized wisdom without questioning where it was that wisdom came from? Have you ever thought I know how to fix this about a person or situation and not taken a second to pause or pray before you went about your "fixing"?

If I was speaking to a room of people right now, it would probably look something like this;

Hello, yes, Ms. Norbury? I'd like to report a personal victimization of myself, and everyone around me, courtesy of MY OWN DANG PRIDE. 

Right now, I'm enjoying quiet time at my usual study spot, the sun is pouring through big windows, and I can hear Christmas songs being practiced from the music wing of the academic building. It's a gorgeous Monday morning. 

Not so gorgeous lately, however, has been my heart attitude. (I feel like these blog posts run a never ending circle of "Hey guess what I learned this month! I'm flawed and need Jesus!" over and over.) Humbleness tastes bitter to the proud. If you could see me right now, with socks and flip flops, and a tortoiseshell hair clip reserved for especially greasy days, you'd probably think She doesn't have a lot to be prideful about. One of the stellar (*eye roll*) things I've learned about humanity is we don't need that much to boost our egos.  At least I know I don't. 

So, I've had to reevaluate my heart. One of the sneakiest things about the kind of pride I've been dealing with lately is that it isn't always obvious on the outside. But a peek inside - whoa, bad news bears, man. It's a manky sight. 

I like to think I have all the answers. I like to think I have all the life experience I need. I like to think that I don't have to listen to others and that They just don't get it or get me or understand the situation like I do. 

This past semester I gave the wrong advice too quickly, and before I even realized it I had a hand in creating a mess of unhealthy behaviour and toxicity. I wonder what would have happened instead if I had waited until I had all the perspectives and had given the situation some thought and prayer. I based my advice off of my previous experience in that area, rather than the reality of what was happening with that individual. It's something I deeply regret. Let it be a lesson I hopefully don't have to learn again.

Thankfully, that's not the end. God uses mistakes, and He's still gonna use me. Even when I mess up and pretend to be better than I really am, when I speak without thought, and when I try to build myself up as a wiser and a way more spiritual person than I ever will be. And God will still use you, too. Don't let a failure in this area keep you from speaking out - just take some extra time to get all the facts. Or even better, pray. Living with God-given grace and God-given purpose means we learn. It means we grow. Keep the reminder close to your head but let Jesus' love wash over your heart.

On another note, finals are coming and then it's the Christmas season, so this will probably be the last you hear from me for a few weeks. I love you much and I love hearing from you! If you want to send me an email or have any questions, or something you'd like me to blog about, click here. 

Oops, I Did It Again

Oops, I Did It Again

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Oh baybay, baaybay.

You know that constant, nagging voice that keeps telling you; "you're not cool enough, you haven't been to enough places, you're not pretty enough, funny enough, smart enough, etc"? Maybe it's just me. But I've read enough magazine covers and watched enough YouTube beauty tutorials to know that you probably hear that voice in the back of your head, too.

We live in a culture of comparison. I'm quick to admit that I'm easily party to it. Somebody will say; "I'd love to go to _________." I'll reply, "Oh yeah? Well when I was there a few months ago I climbed a freakin mountain. Check out these gnarly pics!" You did something? I've got news for you honey -- I already did it. And better. And my concealer didn't even crease under the pressure!

Does that sound like you? 

I've got a picture in my room (technically it's in storage wrapped in oodles of plastic bags right now - I'm heading to school for the first time on monday) that says "Kill the urge to say something about yourself when others say something personal." One thing I learned a long time ago is nothing destroys your witness quite like making it the Beth Show. Yeah, God is changing me, but it's not because I benevolently show him what I think needs improvement. It's because I have no choice but to surrender myself to his perfect molding every day, in order to survive. I'm not kidding.

I have had a lot of struggles in my life. More recently I've had a lot of triumphs. It's God's grace, wisdom, and constant "taking me down a peg" via conviction, scripture, or fellow believers that reminds me my life is not about me. I have a purpose so far beyond just writing motivational pieces or perfecting my winged liner. But when I shift my eyes for a second and bask in my own glory, the ugly voice of comparison knocks me out, and suddenly I'm in bed eating cookie dough with greasy hair - all ideas of calling the girl who needs a friend, helping out with the church program, or having personal one-on-one time with my Saviour go out the window. 

Comparison culture only does two things - makes you feel temporarily good by bringing somebody else down, or makes you feel like a nice, steaming piece of crap. Perfect. 💩 

Seriously, though, the only way to stop the poison of comparison is to shift your eyes on the One who sees who you really are. Without comparison to anybody. And loves you unconditionally despite of it! That's an incredible truth. God isn't comparing you to Becky with the Good Hair who serves in sunday school every week, or your pastor's wife, or me, or any other human being for that matter. God isn't afraid of what he'll find. 

1 John 4:16 says; "So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him." That's incredible. I got a bit of a shiver just typing that out. The chapter goes on to mention that if you love God but hate "your brother", you don't really love God. Could we apply that to how we feel about ourselves? If you hate or are discontent with who you are, what does that say about your relationship with God? Are you letting him use you to your full potential? Or are you letting comparison culture win and keep you from the joy, hope and peace that's waiting for you. You are worthy of love. Not for what you do, not for what you've done, not for who you compare yourself to - you are worthy of the love of your Saviour just by the fact you were breathed into existence. 

Let's go out today with a purpose of grace - and kick comparison right in the butt as we do it. 

Blessed.

Blessed.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

A little over a week until I start a whole new chapter. My internal monologue - in stark contrast to my outer cool, calm, sensual and sophisticated persona (cmon, laugh with me here) - runs something like this;

WHATTHEHECKWHATTHEHECKWHATTHEHECK

I'm not being melodramatic when I say I'm a little intimidated. It also doesn't help that Frank Ocean's "Lost" is playing in the background as I write this.

Girl you know you lost, lost in the heat of it all, girl you know you lost, lost in the thrill of it all...

Although I would hardly describe this moment as heated or thrilling (I'm pretty sure I have toothpaste stains on my shirt and my face is greasy) , there's something about the song that's hitting a nerve with me. I'm sure all freshmen get this feeling before their very first semester at post secondary. 

My human mind quickly shifts back and forth between doubt, worry, anxiety, and at some points - crippling fear. Am I excited? Yes. Am I confident in my ability to make new friends, ask for help when needed, and generally keep it cool? In my better moments, of course. Fear isn't rational. My unbelief isn't rational - even when everything inside me is screaming that cynicism is the only way to keep myself from getting hurt. As I look at my life and see the beautiful ways that God has showed his hand already, my fear should cause a few eyerolls. Cmon gurl! He has shown himself faithful! Just trust already! Sometimes you have to zoom out your vision. 

Blessed is she who believes. I'm holding onto this one like an extreme couponer holds onto a $5 off voucher. Blessed is she who believes. God is God with or without you - but something magical happens when you allow him to take hold of your life, take hold of your fear, and turn it into something useful. Suddenly, you two are a team. Now there's real relationship. When you believe that God's got it - your dreams, your future, your fear, your struggles, your darkness - you are blessed. Mary's faith and belief alone were the reason she was chosen to carry the Saviour in her womb. She who believed in God's promises to her, was truly blessed. 

Lord, strengthen my belief. I can't do it alone. No bible study or inspirational pinterest board can make it happen. But You can. I trust you to lead me in my relationships, my choices, my academics, and my thought life. You have proven yourself over and over - belief is so much more than a positive attitude or inner mantra. Belief is faith with action. 

I'm not sure when my next blog will be, but until then, stay sweet my lovelies, and live with a purpose of grace. 

Joy.

Joy.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

This content was originally posted July 17th, 2016 as an Instagram caption, and edited onto this blog August 29th, 2016.

Around this time in summer '15 I got a crazy feeling that the next year was going to be a big one. Dudes, I had no idea. And it's barely halfway through!! 

Choosing joy to be the defining attribute of my life does not come easy (especially when emails come in too fast and sleep does not come quickly) but the response & growth in my life and the lives of people around me has been cray-cray insane! Seriously, don't stop your joy. Let it rise up. Shut down petty arguments with genuine laughter and admit you messed up. 

Joy isn't pretending everything is amazing and you're happy and you got it figured out - joy is rejoicing no matter how lame and grody the circumstance. Don't let cynicism be the defining part of your faith walk. Anybody can be a cynic. It's not natural to rejoice even when life sucks. It's counter cultural. Okay enough of my mini pep talks - bottom line: Let's spread the joy, people!

Chase Grace.

Chase Grace.

Sunday, June 5, 2016

This content was originally posted June 5th, 2016 as an Instagram caption, and edited onto this blog August 30th, 2016.

I keep finding “to-do” lists around my desk that I’ve written for myself.

Not the “Grab eggs, email so-and-so” kind of lists, but “personal growth” lists. The kind of lists that start out with; “Yo Beth, remember that mistake? That’s because you didn’t do this, this, or this. You failed. Next time, do these four things instead!” I even found a note to myself telling me to be more intentional about smiling when people are talking to me during one-on-one time. Anybody who knows me well knows I’m a constant cheeser – I don’t need a self-critical reminder!

I make these kinds of detailed requirements or observations for myself all the time, hoping that one day it’ll click and I’ll make myself better. I have this urge to be superwoman, to all people, at all times. I recently had the revelation the other day that when I do these things, what I’m trying to do is fix myself and rely on my own experience – rather than seeking and growing in my reliance on God. I’m masking my insecurity and lack of trust by making impossible rules and requirements for myself. Seriously, some of these lists sound like a line straight outta Leviticus. Not cool.

The point of why I’m sharing this isn’t because I’m totally down to put one of my biggest flaws on the internet, but it’s because I know that this kind of self-reliance is not a new thing. There’s not one of us on here that doesn’t cater to a self-critical analysis of themselves every once in a while. It’s pride that drives it. When we’re seeking God on the daily and laying down all our junk, that’s it. Literally. Wisdom is great, evaluation is healthy, but you’re doing it wrong if those things turn you into a guilt and anxiety ridden noodle! If you have a relationship with God, he’ll lead you to the right place. If you’re seeking him and listening, you’re half way there. It falls into place. That’s how it works—just not through YOUR works.