Life *bongos*

My roommates (also best friends) and I have this weird little thing where when one of us has a bad moment/day/week we say "Life..." and the other plays bongo type noises on any available object. It's just us being silly and making light of a bad situation. I've been doing it quite a bit lately.

See, I thought  found a church I love but it didn't work out.
I thought my heart was healed. (Spoiler: It isn't.)
My study skills seem to be lacking which equals bad grades which turns into LESS motivation.
I'm so incredibly self conscious about my body and weight right now.

So lots of things are "wrong".
When I was in high school I had myself convinced that if I could just make it to college everything in my life would work out and be perfect. Can I just say how WRONG I was?! Man, when I was younger, it was about reaching the next milestone. And now that I have arrived, I realize I've spent my life waiting and dreaming about this magical (mythical) life I was going to have. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, has worked out like I planned. I'm in a different major, different relationship status, different school, different state than I planned.

And guess what?

It's still beautiful. I'm still living and I'm still serving God (or doing my best). I still have friends, I still care about my community and my goals. Despite the fact that seriously nothing is what I thought it would be and very little is actually "good" right now, I know God has a plan. It's so hard for me to see it sometimes. Most of the time, I'm so caught up in this daydream and I think this isn't what I thought it would be. Where is my perfect day, perfect plan, perfect life? then I have to remind myself that not every moment is going to be "good" but that doesn't mean it's bad either. And although I might have really bad days (Last Tuesday, anyone? I spilled an entire cup of coffee down the front of my *am lecture hall.), I will have more good days. And just because it's a bad season, doesn't mean it's a bad life. I don't believe my God would give me a bad life. In fact, I know He wouldn't. He has promised good to me. and I will see the harvest from this season of sowing and sowing and sowing. All this effort and pain will be worth it.

As for my heart: If my biggest fault is that I loved too quickly, too fully, too recklessly, then I consider myself a success.

Whirlwind: Confessions of a Narcissistic Period

Y'all. Sometimes life is hard.
NEWSFLASH! I'm sure you had no idea. Haha!
I'm still dealing with all this. All that has happened in the last few months seems so insignificant, yet it changed everything.

I was in a less than stellar place for quite a while. I'm not entirely out of it, but it has gotten much better.

You see, being broken up with, no matter what the reason, WRECKS your confidence. I forgot that I'm more than the size of my clothes and the cellulite on my thighs. I forgot that my dreams and ideas and (most of all) my relationship with my Father define me. Not how I look in a dress, not if my thighs touch. Not if my tummy has grown a little. I forgot that what makes up me has absolutely nothing to do with the way a random passerby might perceive me. Whoa. Newsflash (#2!): the world ain't about you, girly. All those people whose opinions you obsess over have their own lives. And guess what! They probably didn't even notice you, much less that your legs aren't perfect.

Breathe.

That's... a relief. I can't tell you how preoccupied I've been with that.
Hello! Can you say narcissistic, Ash?!

Here's the deal, I want someone (not just anyone) to fall in love with how in love I am with Jesus. How shallow would a relationship be that was based upon a boy's admiration of the way I look. A Few pounds will come and go, I'll get wrinkles, I'll get older, and by default, less physically attractive.
I want a man who falls in love with the Joy of Christ that is within me. The love of the Father that I try (and often, so often, fail) to emulate. I want a man to see a light in me that has absolutely nothing to do with my thighs! Wow, it took me that long to realize this?

I'm not going to lie, I have rough days. I have facebook stalking days. I have days where I cry. I have days where I am completely consumed by how much I hate my body that it is crippling. I Have days where I obsess over what he is doing and does he miss me and how will I ever be ok after this?

But then I have days where I remember to pray. I remember to whisper a  prayer for the passing person, rather than wonder what they think of me. I have days where I see just how much this world is hurting and wish desperately that I could help it. So, I pray. And I pray again. And I listen to some Tenth Avenue North (sidenote: LOVE) and I remember that I am more than than the choices that I've made and more than the sum of my past mistakes. That I have been remade!

And when I feel my most unlovable, and worthless, and like I will never measure up, I remember that Jesus died for me.

He died for me.

He died for me.

He died for me.

I was worth everything to Him.
How dare I think that I'm not worth anything.

A Heartbreak = A Blog

At 21 years old, I experienced my first heartbreak. I got a phone call that left me reeling and crushed me. How did this happen?

I fully acknowledge that I am in the "overly dramatic-how will i survive-what do i do now-will i ever love again" portion of the break up. So excuse my extremely dramatic take on life. At least I recognize it, right?

I want to know how I'm supposed to be ok with trusting someone again? This feeling, yeah. I never want to feel like this again. Hopeless, worthless, what-did-i-do-wrong?

You know, you must, the unfair thing about relationships is how you have to put your faith in a person. One person can decide it's over when the other is still all in. You see, I wasn't done. I was still in it. I was still more than willing to be patient and work through the situation that faced us.

And the truth is, neither one of us messed up. Neither one of us did anything wrong. The outside circumstances determined the fate of our relationship. Really, maybe that's not true. There was an unwillingness to fight. An unwillingness to share feelings and burdens. A total shutdown on his part. But I honestly can't blame him. I'm trying not to blame him. Because he didn't choose this either. He didn't choose the situation and would do anything to change it.

The worst part, I know, must be that my head has realized that this is God's hand. His way of protecting my heart by ending this sooner rather than later. There were things that would have had to change to make it work in the long run. And God is whispering to me "Daughter, precious child, trust me. He isn't who I have for you. It was not my intention." And my heart grieves because I gave it too soon to him. I fell too fast. I trusted entirely in my emotion and overwhelming infatuation with this man. And he was wonderful. He is, still. He is smart, driven, handsome, kind, funny... and I could continue, but I'm going to spare myself (and you.) So my insecurity flares up and screams "There will never be anyone else as good as him. No one as handsome, no one you are as attracted to, no one who makes you laugh, no one who is driven, and smart, and funny." I find myself panicking, thinking that this was my chance and the next one won't be as appealing.

BUT.

....

But, but. There has to be a but.

I am choosing to trust in my God. Who is bigger than me. Who sees the future. Who knows the plan. And trusting that he wouldn't give me something wonderful, rip it away, and replace it with something less than. My God does not want "less than" for me. The man I will marry will be all these things and more. He will be passionate, and kind, and he will love Jesus more than life itself. He will lead me, he will protect me. He will listen to me. He will need me, and he will want me. He will fight. He will not, under any circumstances, allow me or himself to walk away just because things are hard.

Know why?

Because I deserve it.