remembering... through His eyes

I met with my therapist last week. After telling her how tired I am of trying, of having to work so hard towards recovery, she asked me to go read some of my journal entries from when I was at Arabella. "Read about and remember the good times," she said. So I did.

I stumbled upon this one....

I wrote this the day after the candlelight vigil... the day I decided that life was worth living. This journal entry records me having that exact revelation and what exactly was going through my head. That night I sang for the first time in public, and it was an experience that changed my life. This journal entry is how I will always remember the good times... to remember that life is worth living... and a total gift.

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5/22/07

"So, as I said, last night was AMAZING! I really feel like God allowed me to see myself the way others see me, but more importantly, the way He sees me. Not once did I look around and compare myself to other girls. Not once did I analyze them and scale them up and down. I just saw them as BEAUTIFUL people. And that's the other thing... I really felt like God gave me a new definition of the word beautiful. It's the whole person. It's not just the exterior. It's the inside, it's the spirit, the personality, and it only makes the person that much more beautiful on the outside. Beauty isn't just this surfaced, external thing. It's not about fashion or make-up or how "good-looking" one can be. This word just has this whole new meaning to me... it's not a beautiful that the world understands. It's SO much more than that. Last night I felt beautiful, just for being me and who I am. I felt beautiful when I was singing, even though I messed up. I felt beautiful just being myself. And not only that, I felt worth it. I felt worth something. I felt worth living. And I wanted to live, not just to survive, but to live life... to the fullest... because I deserve to! And not because anybody told me I deserve to, but because I believe with all my heart that I deserve to.

The parents of Aubrey (who died from her eating disorder) spoke last night and really impacted me. After they spoke is when I realized my desire to live. Aubrey became so real to me when I saw her picture and her mom described her to me. She said she saw Aubrey up there when she saw me. She said Aubrey would have been the same as me up there with bare feet and sitting Indian style in the chair. When I read my poem she said she felt like Aubrey could have written that, and she knew those would have been Aubrey's words. This put my life into perspective... and seeing this beautiful girl and her grieving parents just broke my heart and really affected me. I cried the whole way through. I had to go up and sing after they spoke... all choked up, but it worked out really well. I just loved life last night. I loved it, and I was so happy to be alive, and be in recovery. I felt loved, and I felt like God loved me. I got a standing ovation for my poem. It was AMAZING!

I really feel like I was looking through different colored glasses last night... and I loved it. After the vigil was over and everyone left, we had the house community meeting in the driveway, on the ground, under the stars. It was awesome. We sat and each talked with Laura. I cried as Lissa shared her struggle from the weekend. It hurt to look at her and know that she has no idea how amazing she is. Maybe I got to feel a pinch of how God feels when he looks at us. We just have no idea. He knows we are so wonderfully made and it breaks his heart we just can't see that. It broke my heart to look at those girls last night and see and know how beautiful they are and know they couldn't see it themselves. I love seeing people as beautiful! Not good-looking, dressed nice, or perfectly shaped, just beautiful!"

homesick

I miss...

my family. sailing with my dad. the river. the sun. catching a fish. riding a wave. riding in my brother's ghetto station wagon. biscuit. early morning runs. the creek. my jeep. my room. my mommom.

sitting under the pier. walking on the beach. building sand castles. peeing in the ocean. playing flashlight tag. catching lighting bugs. melody lane. pancakes for dinner. breakfast on the back porch. family bike rides. family vacations. family therapy.

mom's bun. the 80's. matching dresses. the old chapel. falling asleep in the pews. telling dad it was time to stop preaching cause it was time for lunch. telling everyone my dad only worked once a week. some of sunday school. most of edge. all of vacation bible school.

rapping with bobby. intimidating his girlfriends. tackling girls on the soccer field. especially the ones that liked bobby. fouling out of basketball games. friday night pizza. tony's famous pizza.

listening to music with betsy. dancing with bonnie. listening to betsy play the piano. listening to bonnie imitate rocky. laughing at, but mostly with, my siblings.

praying with my mom. hearing her voice in the morning. hearing her ask me to pick up my stuff off the stairs. guilt tripping her into letting me keep it there by saying some parents wish they had kids to leave stuff on the stairs.

dad coming home at the end of the day. the attack bunny when you don't get out of bed for school. piggy back rides. weekly check ins at starbucks. dad-daughter dates. parent's weekend. oyster roasts. not the oysters.

.............my family............................

praying... surfing... laughing... crying... singing... reading... writing... walking... talking... driving... sitting... growing... doing life... with emily.

losing my religion... part 2

RaNDOm, but WOW

I came home to blog.

I kind of laugh when I think about it... it's Saturday night, and I came home to blog. I've become one of those people that people make fun of in their comedy routines... you know the ones that say stuff like "this show is gonna be so funny you're gonna go home and blog about it and think people will actually care about what you think is funny."

I never did blog about that show... hah... joke's on them.

ANYWAY...

So yea... I tried to go see a movie about a girl with a pig nose, thinking a girl with a pig nose would make me feel less insecure about myself, but then I realized even the girl with the pig nose gets the guy in the end, so I decided against it. Well, that and the fact that it was already an hour into the movie by the time I got there... which was probably about the time the guy was professing his undying love for the girl with the pig nose.

Gag me.

Sorry... I'm on an anti-Hollywood ending of movies kick... which is a much cooler way of saying... I'm tired of going to movies by myself. In a way I'm not, in a way I kinda like it... but when it's always the same ending and you walk out to your car by yourself only to drive back to into reality, it kinda makes that "happy ending" not so happy.

Wow... this has gotten depressing real fast.

So I went to this bargain bookstore instead... but the only bargained books were ones about growing up with two daddies or Hemingway in Africa. Africa is cool, and I can respect the fact that Hemingway was a great writer, but to act like I know any of his stuff would be a big fish. As for growing up with two daddies, I didn't have that issue... which is when I realized I didn't need to go see a movie about a girl with a pig nose to feel less insecure, all I had to do was go to a bargain bookstore.

After leaving there I figured I'd go for coffee, but instead opted for my favorite juice... oh yes... apple. I got one big enough to last me through the rest of this blog.

I don't have a way to transition into my next thought, so I'm just gonna go with it...

So pre-bargain bookstore and viente apple juice, I went to church. I was way late and missed the worship, which is my favorite part, but I stayed anyway. Tim Sutherland spoke on baggage and how we deal with it... or maybe don't deal with it by pretending like it's not there. He had a suitcase up on stage as a sort of visual and then asked us what was in our bag. What were we carrying around? What were our secrets? What were we trying to get away from?

The good thing is we didn't have to answer out loud... the bad thing... we can't escape what's in the bag. Now, ultimately this is a good thing because it leads to healing and freedom. But to confront your stuff head on is hard... and it hurts... and who knows how long it's going to last... so the easiest thing to do, at least in the moment, is to escape it.

What does it mean to escape? What does it look like?

I think it can look different for different people. It can be the alcoholic who won't get help, the girl who won't eat, or the cutter who won't feel... but it's not just people with addictions or "bad habits" that try and escape.

Escape can be the dad who's not physically present because while he's out changing the world, his kids are left at home without a father... or the dad who decides to be physically present for his kids, but since his heart is out changing the world, he's emotionally absent.

There's two sides to every story.

Escape can be the church kid who says and does all the right things according to scripture, all the while ignoring his heart... or the church kid who pursues his heart's desires, all the while ignoring what God has to say.

Either way is not living fully alive.

Every one's form of escape is different... there's not a universal right or wrong when it comes to escaping... it's asking yourself... what is it for you?

Religion can be just as much an escape as alcohol or any other drug. Religion can be just as much an addiction... which is why I don't like religion. I don't want formulas or 3 steps to get closer to God. I don't even know if I do know what I want, but I do know I don't want it to be based on my own effort, cause even my best effort isn't good enough.

Tim said it this way... "there's always something that I should be doing that I'm not, or shouldn't be doing that I am."

And that's it. I can't do it anymore. I give up. I said that to the lady I was praying with tonight... "I give up." I didn't even know what I was talking about at that point, but now I think I know... religion... I give up. I don't want it. I have a relationship... I don't need religion.

Believe me, I've come to this realization before, it's not new, but sometimes I get so caught up in life that I forget what I once knew as truth. And this is where I realize that my life is an ongoing journey... who knows how many times I'll have to re-learn something or be reminded of it again and again and again. And this is where I am so thankful that there is grace... and that God is patient... and that "there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." (Rom. 8:1)

No condemnation. WOW. Life is still hard, but WOW.

humor heals

I've been having a hard time lately... with wanting to write and all...

I once again find myself in a place where there is so much I want to write about, but don't know if I can... or if I do... how much can I share? I don't know.

Lately I've been sad. Mostly because it seems like I've lost a good friend. To be honest, I don't know how long you have to be friends with someone in order to consider them a "good" friend, and if it's more than 2 weeks, then maybe he doesn't fit in that category, but you know how there are some people you just click with and right away and they become your good friend?

He was one of those.

There was a click. I heard it. I felt it. I knew. I knew he was my friend. Maybe because he was weird... like me... I don't know, I just know there was a click.

Those clicks are so weird aren't they? They come when you least expect it. They come when you're doing just fine and you don't need anymore friends, or certainly anymore clicks, and they just sneak up on ya and... click... they seem right. When something clicks, it always seems right. Even when the timing is off, we think when it clicks, it must be right.

But...

I don't know what happened.

He doesn't really talk to me anymore. And I don't know why. I've had a hard time with it and I've really wanted clarity about it...

Until...

I went to work one day and it all became so clear.

It was a normal day at Starbucks... I was on my break, along with a shift supervisor and we were hanging out in the cafe with two girls who were off of work. One of the girls made a comment that she needed to shave her legs so bad, but I guaranteed her that her legs weren't as bad as mine. She insisted "no way, no way... mine are horrible. You have no idea." She showed them to me and I just laughed... she had no idea! I suggested we have a contest to see who had the longest leg hair, and even include one of the guy baristas as part of it. She thought I was joking, but little did she know (nor did you, I'm sure) that I have not shaved my legs the whole entire winter. In fact, longer. The last time I shaved was in September.

Hah... if you're not grossed out yet, keep reading...

So, I warned everyone before I revealed them, but the warning didn't minimize the shock value. Haha. The girls leaned back in their chairs, covered their mouths with their hands and all you could hear was "OH MY G...." They didn't even finish the sentences. Their eyes got as big as quarters, and we all just laughed. One girl started taking pictures and said if she were to look at me from the the knees down she would think I was a boy. I'd said it was a tie between the guy and I, but even he said I had him beat.

Everyone was trying to understand why I hadn't shaved, as if I wasn't allowed to. Haha. I just said it kept me warm in the winter, and there's really no point... no one else is getting in bed with me, so I might as well stay warm. "It's like having on an extra pair of long johns," I said. I've come to love those things. Not to mention, it saves a lot of shower time.

Honestly, it all started as a joke... not shaving, but when I realized it's shock value, I just figured, "what the heck... it makes for a good laugh..."

Anyway... all that to say... Erin, the shift supervisor, asked if my guy friend who I had been interested in (the one I clicked with), if he had seen my legs. I laughed and said no, but he knew, cause I told him. "But, Oh wait" I said, "he probably did cause there's a video of me showing them to the camera on facebook." She asked if he was still talking to me and I said no. She, who at one point was so encouraging to me, laughed and said... "well, if he saw those things... he has my permission NOT to talk to you."

And that's when it hit me... guys don't like girls with hairy legs.

I still didn't shave right away cause I started to like the way the leg hair felt when it was blowin' in the wind... I now know what Bob Dylan was talking about... but eventually, I caved. We had one really good warm day and I realized I better start shaving if I want to pull out the shorts. So... I started last Thursday... and I finished by Saturday. 7 months of no shaving and all it took was 2 razors and 3 days... that's a bargain! I'm amazed at how good it feels to have my legs back. I couldn't see em' there for a while, but now that everything is back to normal, life is good.

My friend still doesn't talk to me... he's dropped a "how are you?"or two on facebook, but has yet to respond when I ask how is him. It makes me sad. But I'm OK... because having hairy legs for 7 months makes you appreciate the small things, like a nice clean shave... even when you are sad.

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(in all seriousness... hairy legs and shaving and yada yada really have nothing to do with the situation... I think :)... but sometimes you just have to use humor to heal from your pain.)

losing my religion... part 1

AFRICA!!

I'm going to Africa!

June 15-30, 2008

with Global Family Rescue. www.globalfamilyrescue.org

and in a nut shell... I need help!!

I'm trying to raise $3,000 before then. All donations made to Global Family Rescue (in my name) are tax deductible.

Please send any financial help to... Global Family Rescue
PO Box 529
Wheaton, IL 60189

and any spiritual help (i.e. prayer)... send that straight to God. Pray specifically that I wouldn't catch Malaria and have my arms amputated. I'm super excited about going to Uganda and helping orphans and widows, but I really love playing the guitar, and I don't think I would be very good without any arms. I'm just being honest with fears that cross my mind.

I'll write more about this later, I just wanted to get the word out... PLEEEASE HELP!!!

PAY, PAY, PAY!! .... Oh... I mean... PRAY, PRAY, PRAY!!

rolling...

Some lady came into Starbucks yesterday to get her $3.00 cup of coffee... even though I work there I can make fun of people who actually pay that much for drinks because I get them for free... perks of the job...

I also don't really make fun of people who buy drinks there, I just feel the need to for this story....


Anyway... Some lady came into Starbucks yesterday to get her $3.00 cup of coffee. Total Naperville woman... big expensive sunglasses (that she didn't bother to take off while inside, no where near windows or sunlight), high high heals, bouncy blond curly hair, fake nails, cakes of makeup, and I could continue to bash her, but it wouldn't really make me feel that much better about myself...

I ask her how she is doing and she doesn't even bother to answer, she just orders her drink in a stern, "hurry up" type voice. She pays and I hand her her card back then give her her receipt. She prances out in her loud, clunky heals making it known to the whole store she is leaving the building. I think nothing of it, other than "wow, she was rude."

Later on in the day I answer the phone and there is a lady on the other end saying that the only place she went that morning was to Starbucks and now she can't find her American Express gift card that she paid with. I asked her to hold and looked around, asked my manager, but no one had seen one or left one. I relayed the message to her, to which she responded, "well, I know who rang me up, and I know it is there because I don't have it." I told her I was sorry and that I didn't know what to tell her because we didn't have it... to which she replied, "OK, I'll be coming in in a little bit." So I said OK and she hung up the phone. I realized it was that rude Naperville woman. I could tell she was implying that the girl who rang her up (me) stole her gift card.

I actually was hoping she would come in because I had nothing to hide knowing that I didn't take it. Sure enough, I hear her walk in. She prances up to the counter, sunglasses still on, and says "I left my gift card here." I look at her and I ask if she was the one that called. She very dramatically takes off her sunglasses and looks me in the eye, pauses, and responds "yessss." I look her right back in the eye, because like I said, I have nothing to hide, and I say "I'm sorry ma'am, but we don't have it." She just grins, looks at me, and says "OK... but just so you know, it's been turned off... and what goes around comes around." And she stares at me, grinning as she's walking away.

I was in shock. EXCUSE ME???? I yelled, then jumped across the counter, grabbed her blond hair, and ripped the sunglasses off her face...

No, not really... (here's where I make sure to say "just kidding")

As a person, I wanted to confront her with my frustration that she was questioning my character and acting like she knew I had done something that I didn't do. But as an employee of a corporate coffee chain, I knew my interaction with her would be limited seeing as she was the customer, and you know what they say... the customer is always right.

HAH.

My manager was standing there the whole time, along with my partners, and I just stood there in silence, said "OK" while she walked off.

We waited till she walked out the door, then I let it out... "WHHAAATTTT?????? Are you serious? Is she serious? What the... is she serious? really? I mean, really? REALLY?" I had to laugh. That's all I could do.

I was so frustrated. My manager told me I handled the situation really well and that was all I could do to respond. She reminded me that I knew the truth and the way the woman spoke to me was a reflection on her, not on me.

True... but man is that hard to accept when you just want a chance to tell your side of the story. I guess it was a good lesson for me because I realize, as much as I want to convince her that I'm a good person, I have no control over what she thinks of me... and what she thinks of me does not define who I am. I was hoping she'd find it and call to apologize, but I knew that wasn't going to happen.

She came back in this morning and I was working on bar (making drinks). I wanted to ask her if she found her card yet, but I just smiled and asked how she was. She didn't even answer. She just stared me down... literally looked at me and didn't say a word. She continued to watch me the whole time she waited for her drink, as if her gift card was going to fall out of my pocket or something.

I tried not to, but I let her get to me. I was so frustrated that I couldn't concentrate on bar. Someone had to come relieve me cause I kept pouring decaf in regular and 2% in skim. Oops. At least they caught it before the person drank it...

well... not that lady's...

Hah.


Again... kidding.

Basically, I guess what I have learned from this is that I have no control of what others think. People believe what they want to believe, regardless of the truth. Sometimes we get a chance to tell our version, sometimes we don't, but regardless, it doesn't change the truth. I know the truth. And I'm OK with that. God knows the truth. And I'm OK with that. But most importantly, the surveillance camera that has me handing her card back to her on it knows the truth. And I'm OK with that.

right here

My heart really hurts right now.

I was in the middle of writing some profound blog to impress people with, but that's not where my heart's at. It hurts.

I got nothing to say... I got nothing to pray...

I got nothing.

My eating disorder would come in really handy right now... at a time when I've got nothing. ED was always there when I had no where else to turn.

I don't want to feel any of these feelings. I just want to be numb. I want to purge myself of how I feel.

I'm just being honest... my eating disorder would come in really handy right now.

So what's stopping me?

Nothing stopped me in the past... prior to treatment, prior to recovery, prior to this whole season I'm in... nothing stopped me... so why now? What's stopping me?

In all honesty...

What people think of me.

Yea, I wish it was some spiritual answer like "the power of God," but right now, in this moment, I can't even hear God's voice. All I can hear are the voices around me. The voices that tell me how proud they are of me and how amazing I am. These are the voices I seek approval from, and these are the voices that I want to impress by having an amazing recovery. These are the voices that are stopping me. The voices that affirm me... the voices that make me feel better about myself... the voices that I depend on to hear truth... and while I realize God speaks to us through other people, I don't think God intended for me to be dependent on the affirmations of others and not seek His voice.

Here's the thing... before recovery, I also depended on outside voices... voices of others to tell me I was good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, etc... The thing is, these voices were never enough. I heard what I wanted to hear, but it was never enough... never enough because it was coming from someone exactly like myself... insecure, broken, and human. Even with the best of intentions, people will let us down. Even with the best of intentions, people let me down. Even with the best of intentions, I will let people down.

And so, I let those voices dictate who I was, and when it was those exact voices I was depending on for truth that let me down, I fell. I fell hard. And with no foundational truth, I fell fast.

So this time around I realize... I am still surrounded by voices... voices that love me and support me... voices that are life giving and encouraging... but unless I am depending on the voice of God as my foundational truth, the voices of these loved ones will never be enough... and I will continue to expect them to play a role that they cannot fill, which will result in my own let down, and my own fall.

I'm not saying once I listen to God's voice I will never fall. I'll fall. I know I will. To deny this is to say I don't need God and to set myself up for failure... but once I'm listening to and depending on God's voice, I don't have to blame other people for my fall. I can take responsibility of my own choices... my own lack of trust... and my own fall. And while I'm down there on the ground admitting that I messed up, God's already picking me up, dusting me off, and sending me on my way... again. Not because I deserve a second chance, or a third, or a seventh, but because God is good. And that's it. God is good.

People ask how I know, and I wish I had an answer, but I don't. I just know. With every fiber of my being I just know. Does He make sense? No. But He is good. Is it my definition of good? No. But He is good. And I know without a shadow of a doubt that I am being tested on that belief right now... it's easy to say, but not so much to really believe. And I admit, I have a hard time really believing it, but even when I don't feel it, I am choosing to believe that my God is good.

Even when things don't seem good... my God is good.

Do I believe this because I was told this since I was a child and I don't know any better... or do I believe this because God pulled me out of a life of bondage and depression and restored life and hope to a once empty shell? Maybe both. To be honest, in this moment I feel more like the empty shell than the life of hope, but it's in this moment that I'm choosing to believe the voice of God that tells me I'm good enough. Even in this moment of weakness, I'm good enough. Even in moments of disbelief, doubt, and uncertainty, I'm good enough. And that's (only a small part of)what makes my God good.

I'm still sad. My heart still hurts. It's not like I write a blog about the goodness of God and all the hurt goes away... I still hurt... but somewhere in there is hope, and a sense of peace that I am exactly where God wants me to be in this moment... clinging ever so tightly to Him, knowing that my grip isn't strong enough, but trusting His hand to hold me up even when I start to let go.