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.

Let's Talk About Anxiety

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.