Truth in the Valley

I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been going through a "valley" lately. And, quite honestly, I feel ashamed of that.

Listen, I’m no Job. I have a family that all love me and we all get along marvelously (for the most part). I have a dog that is always happy to see me shuffling up the front walk. I live with four adorable children (and another two in Virginia) that I love to Pluto and back. I just got back from my second trip abroad, just for fun. I have a church family that pushes me to know Christ on a deeper level. I have a stable job with benefits. I have a car that is paid off. Goodness, I even have a nice camera and a Mac.

And, yet, I sit in my little room and feel alone, needy, unsettled, unwanted, and useless. And when it feels like my life goes dark, all of those insecurities, my wants, and failed dreams hit me repeatedly in the face like a prized fighter. Oh boy, telling yourself the Truth and preaching the Gospel to yourself while buried under 26 years of failings and misgivings just isn’t going to happen. I see that light at the top of the pit getting smaller and smaller. I desperately try to discern the reason for getting stuck in the muck at the bottom. There is always that one reason that seems to be that pea under 10 mattresses that keeps me up at night….

Single and still living with family.

Nope. I don’t have my own place. I don’t have a living room full of cutesy vintage trunks and books. I don’t have a couch for friends to sit on and watch a movie together. I don’t have a stove to explore new recipes on. I don’t have a kitchen table to decorate for a romantic dinner for my husband. I don’t have a guy that will open my car door. I don’t have any fat babies with bright eyes watching my every move. I have one room that is too full of Knick-knacks and no room to expand. I have a small armchair shoved in a corner. I have a mini fridge filled with bottled sodas for the kids. I haven’t put the comforter on my bed since I last washed it. I haven’t mopped my bathroom since last month. I sometimes forget to feed my dog. I get easily offended with family members. I get angry at the kids for being too loud. I quickly jump to conclusions and judge people wrongly. So desperate for it to not be about me, that it becomes about me.

It’s easy for me to think that if those “problems” of hearth and home would be solved, I would be complete. I wouldn’t feel useless, alone, unwanted, unsuccessful. I would want to be all the responsible I’m not now.

The person living in the basement will be the same person living in their own two story house with picket fence. The married you will be the same un-married you. The no-guy-relationship you will still have issues with personal relationships. The mother you will be just as messed up as the non-mother you.

And maybe that’s what frightens me the most:
That I will still be me. Flawed. Needy. Selfish. Untidy. Control-freak. Offended. Hurt.
The mud starts to cover my head and I stop fighting...

Could it be the problem isn’t where I am or where I’m not? Not who I’m living with or who isn’t in my life?
I don’t like that answer. It means effort. Introspection. Surrender. Change. And no “quick, put a Band-Aid on it” fix. I so much wish the answer would be that everything would fall into place if I only had my own home. If I only had that someone. If only....

Sometimes, you just don’t have the answers or the reasons. And that makes a fixer, such as myself, more frustrated than squirrel chasing a nut on a treadmill. It also means you have to be open and vulnerable with others and let them speak Truth into your life. And all the introverts shudder. At times that truth makes no sense to your pit mucked up heart. Or maybe it makes too much sense and you want to throat punch the “truth sayer.” When you are at the bottom of the pit, the cold mud becomes more comfortable than blisters it will take to climb out. And the junk food of lies often tastes better than the veggies of truth.

I don’t know where I’m going with all of this. I’m pretty much preaching to the choir. And like any normal choir member, I’m not paying attention… There’s a line in the song by Jason Gray, “Remind me who I am” that keeps resonating in my soul. “When I can't receive Your love, Afraid I'll never be enough, Remind me who I am."
This where I am. And maybe this is my own way of self-medicating myself with Truth. Take it or leave it.

Looking for Truth,

Ti-Ti

What's the Big Deal?

I am a firm believer that Valentine’s Day can be for singles too.

Yep, you read that right. Singles. People with no “luvah’s.” People who order take out for one. People who don’t share a bank account. People who rarely have to ask someone else’s opinion on what movie to watch. People who let their dog lick their cheek cause no one else will kiss it. People who bring fellow single friends to work holiday parties. People who live in other’s basements. People who the only person they hold hands with are under 4 feet tall and also call you aunt. People who text their mother more than any other person in their contact list. People that sing love songs to their dog. People that car dance because they most often ride in their car alone. People who go to the library every Thursday to hang out in a corner by themselves. People that don't have to share the bag of popcorn. People that don't have to worry about annoying someone with the alarm going off 7 times of a morning. People that don't share a facebook account.

You see, growing up, valentine’s was never a holiday just for my parents or just a holiday for couples. It was a huge family event. Sure, my parents celebrated their couple status in various ways that day, cheesy cards, special gifts, dinners out. But usually if it was dinner out it wouldn’t actually be on Valentine’s Day. Honestly, I don’t really remember much more “celebration” that they as a couple had more than us. It wasn’t as though it was this big thing for just mom and dad to share their love for one another. It was a big day for all of us to show our love for each other. Don’t get me wrong. My parents are super expressive of their love for each other (gag). It wasn’t as though they weren’t happy to be a couple, but they made it more than just love towards the significant other and more of love towards family and friends. It was like second Christmas, but bigger. (And maybe my memory is just remembering it the way I want to, but this is honestly what I remember.)

Okay so maybe I’ve made a big deal about Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’m super weird for it being my favorite holiday. (Okay so that one isn’t a maybe, it’s a for sure thing.) Maybe my parents never anticipated that their unique celebration of a commercialized holiday would turn their youngest into a passionate fanatic. Maybe it’s been my soapbox for so long that the stepping down seems nearly impossible.

Does it sometime hurt because I don’t have “that special one” that I can share this holiday with? Honestly, yeah. It does. Sometimes more than I let on. Does it bother me that so much of that cute stuff for Valentine’s Day is aimed at people with a “luvah?” You bet it does. Does it sink my heart when so many of the special deals you find around this time are only for two people? Like a rock. Do I feel a prick when all the couples decide that because of the holiday, it's okay to have PDA around me? Maybe more than a prick.

But you see, I am a firm believer that Valentine’s Day can be for singles too.

I refuse to let them win. I refuse to wear black. I refuse to be talked off this soap box.

So personality quizzes have been going around rampant lately. One quiz said that while my character type loves deeply, we don't often talk of it. But we think our actions and gifts speak louder than actually saying the words. So maybe that's why I love this holiday so much. I get to give gifts to people I love and I don't have to go all emotional on them. Maybe it gives me an excuse to go all out for those people I love. Maybe it feels like it means more because it's not your normal holiday to give gifts and celebrate family and friends. Especially this year, I'm feel more emotional myself so it's rubbing off on this holiday. I feel like Oprah. "Aw, I love you, so here! You get a new car! And you! I'll pay your entire mortgage!! Here's a college fund for all 7 of your children!!!"
The same quiz also said that I was deeply rooted in tradition. So maybe it's also a traditional thing for me and I can't give it up because, well it's tradition.
I also hate to be defined by being single. I'd rather be defined by being a "nanny" than being a "single nanny." Maybe it's all the preconceived notions and stereo-types that come along with the title "single" that I hate, but whatever the case, I never want to introduce myself as, "Hey, I'm Tiffany and I'm single." [Rabbit trail: Don't get me wrong, singleness is a part of who I am and it does change my viewpoint. I just don't like that it defines me. Like my character, my like and dislikes, my passions, my interests have nothing to do with it because you already know all about me because I'm single. I am more than a title.] And I loath how the valentine holiday brings out the worst in "singles" and I refuse to fall into that camp for even a second.

Maybe that's why it's a big deal to me.

Listen, I get it. I’m super weird in my affinity for this holiday. I don’t even think my family understands my obsession. I don’t even think even I understand my obsession. Maybe I’m clinging desperately to an idea that needs to be let go. But honestly, it makes me feel like a kid at Christmas. Can I keep that feeling? Just for one more year? Can I keep it forever? Do I have to grow out of it?

If you are out there and single, I think I’ve firmly stated that I’m here for you. I’ll share my favorite holiday with you, in all it’s weirdness.You can hang with my equally weird family and not worry about being "single." I’ll buy you the token box of chocolates and eat them with you while watching a chick flick. I’ll hug you when it gets too much and you need to cry. I’ll share my compassionate puppy who gives great sympathy hugs too.
If you are out there and not single, but hate this holiday, I’m here for you too. I’ll help you plan that fun and romantic time. I’ll watch your kids. I’ll be your chauffer. I’ll even offer any little cooking skills I have if needed.

Just, please, don’t try and tell me how weird I am. Don't tell me the tooth fairy and leprechauns aren't real. Don’t mock my tradition of wearing valentine colors for a week before the day. Don’t bash my holiday. Don’t disillusion me and pull me off my soap box.

So I’m weird. I’m obsessive. I’m passionate. I’m clingy to a desperate degree.
This is my soap box and I’m staying up here.

Love,

Ti-Ti

Of Resolutions and Changes

I’m not usually big on the whole new year’s resolutions band wagon. I mean, I guess I feel like it’s kinda cliché and most fall of that wagon on the 10^th of January anyways. This year though, I feel like I have more goals, more “new year’s resolutions” if you will, than I have ever had in years past.

I’m not gonna lie. About 80% of those goals I haven’t even started. Maybe I’m being way too optimistic about how much I can “change” or “do better.”  Which of course, gets me thinking about that wording. I think that’s why I’ve been so much against those resolutions in the past. It feels like stomping my foot and saying, “I will change me! I am woman, hear me roar! See? I’m so cool!”

But here’s the other flip side of that coin. (And perhaps the whole purpose of my writing this blog post.) I feel like I’ve become pretty complacent (read: LAZY). I think I’ve gotten a bit of the “well I can’t change me so I won’t try” mentality.  

Now I’m not saying that I change ME. What I’m saying is, I’m not going to sit around doing the same thing I’ve always done (nothing) and expect to suddenly have all these “goals” and “betterments” accomplished.

So here’s my resolution.

GO.
DO.
BE.

Go. No more hiding. No more, “I can’t God.  You have the wrong person….”
Do more. No more putting off. No more sitting around. No more “I was going to, but…”
Be intentional. No more just doing things because that’s what you always do. No more halfhearted, “well, I tried….”

Listen, I’m an introvert. My comfort zone is located in my lovely arm chair in my room with my laptop, eating puppy chow and watching a BBC movie. My comfort zone is being a wallflower and invisible. My comfort zone is never having to talk to a new person in a crowded room. My comfort zone is never going somewhere I don't know and I haven't planned for. And no matter how badly I’ve worded the above resolution, you have to know, that every single one of those words is a great distance from my pink bubble of comfort.  Which means, I can’t do this.

Are you ready for that cliché phrase?

Not on my own.

That’s where I’ve been. And that’s why it hasn’t changed.  I’ve never been a fan of the “God helps those that help themselves.” But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t work, deeds, action, that needs to happen on my end.

So, I’m resolved to do, go, and be….. 

(p.s. Yeah, that's a picture of my Ireland there.... It's it lovely?)

Ready to change,

Ti-Ti

Valentine Verbalization

It is usually around this time of year that I log in to my blog (a.k.a. soapbox) and tell singles to stop feeling sorry for themselves. To get out and live the life that God has given you. While I am still firmly planted on that soapbox, this year, I’m not only going to be talking to singles. This time, my tirade is aimed at everyone. I’ve been noticing a trend on social media. This trend doesn’t just included single girls or guys. No, I have seen it suck in long time married couples, newlyweds, and even dating couples. This trend happens to be the bashing of one of my favorite holidays, Valentine’s Day.

 I've heard a lot of excuses for why people hate Valentine’s Day. We’ll start with the biggest one.

“It’s too commercialized.”

Welcome to ‘Merica (yes, I just said ‘Merica), where we take everything we can possible earn a buck on and use it to our full advantage.  Honestly, Christmas is SO MUCH more commercialized, but if someone says they hate Christmas, we call them Scrooge, a bah-humbug, a Grinch. Honestly, you should have a much bigger problem with Christmas being commercialized than Valentine’s Day.  Sure, I’ve heard people comment that Christmas is commercialized. But do they still buy gifts for each other? Do they still set up a tree and put hundreds of sparkling lights up? Do they still spend hours baking all those special goodies that we are told we need for Christmas? You bet they do. Commercialism? Sure. But a good excuse to hate Valentine’s Day? Lame Sauce.

“I can say ‘I love you’ any time of the year. I don’t need a special day for it.”

I sure hope you do say I love you to the people in your life on a regular basis. Don’t ever take for granted the people God has placed in your life. But on the other hand, do you need a special day to be thankful? Do you need a special day to remember Jesus came as a baby to save us? Do you need a special day to remember the freedoms you’ve been given in this country? Do you need a special day to praise God for his resurrection and paying the ultimate price for us? Just as these holidays are set aside to turn our attention and focus on a “special event”, so is Valentine’s Day a day set aside to tell everyone you love how much they mean to you.

“There’s way too much pink and glitter.”

Say WHAT?!? Oh, you are talking to the wrong girl about that one! If I could wear pink, and glitter, and hearts every day of the year, I would be one happy cookie. You can NEVER have too much pink! Or too much glitter? CERTAINLY NOT. Okay, so not everyone shares my affinity for pink and sparkles. I guess I can forgive you for that. But I don’t hate on your favorite color, yellow, because I can’t wear it. I don’t make a face every time you mention that orange is the new black. I don’t laugh when you say you just can’t get enough of the color brown. So don’t hate on my sparkles or pink.

“It just feels fake.”

Listen, I’m not sure that is the holiday's fault there. That one solely rests on your shoulders, my friend. Anything can become “fake” if you want to have that attitude. Guess, what? I’ve been to my fair share of “fake” Christmas gatherings. I’ve never felt more “fake” than at the Halloween party- I mean “harvest party.” (cough, cough) Okay, so you meant “fake” as in being not genuine, not from the heart, instead of “fake” - not being yourself. Listen to that definition- sounds like it starts with you. If your heart is fake, so will the holiday, so will the birthday, so will everyday.

“It’s the loneliest day of the entire year.”

Alright, so this one is more from singles. Or perhaps your significant other is away right now. Hey, I know this awesome person that loves the holiday and would love to do nothing more that sprinkle a bit of glitter into your day. She’s always a text away if you simply need a hug. She also loves to give gifts and might just show up with a box of chocolates and teddy bear if the need arises. Now, if you live out of state, you might just have to be happy with a package, or if you’re really desperate, you could always buy her a plane ticket…

“Cupid. I mean, a fat, naked baby that shoots people with “love” arrows? Awkward.”

Yeah, I’ll give you that one. It’s pretty weird. But hey, a jolly, fat, old guy with a long, white beard that comes down your chimney in the middle of the night? You’ve got to admit that Valentine’s Day isn’t the only holiday with a creepy “character” associated with it.

So, you all have, in essence, been reading my diary posts for a while now. I hope you know that I’m strongly for singles getting out and living life. I also hope you know that my stance on any of this does NOT mean that I am an” independent female that does NOT need a silly man in my life to complete it.” I’m not a bitter single. I’m not conforming valentine’s day to fit my single needs. I’m not secretly smirking at all you couples that are “drinking the poison” and getting married. Hey, I love love. (And I can even photograph that upcoming wedding or engagement portraits for you and make you kiss a bunch.) The grass is not “greener” on the other side. Wherever you are, be all there.

[P.S. Just because I can’t leave this alone and must at least make mention of it somehow… Singles, there ain’t no more tissues and boxes of chocolates to gorge on while watching a chick-flick and complaining about your status in life. Get up. Get out. Wake up and smell the coffee. Go. Fight! Win! And call me when you get back, darling. I enjoy our visits….]

So stop bashing and start loving.

Proudly wearing pink,
Ti-Ti

Finally Free

Sometimes, I feel like I have to tell myself "I am a confident, independent woman who can do things on my own, without help" over and over.
But then I wonder and worry, what if I've now run those extremes? What if I've become so confident, I'm now arrogant? Or what if I'm so independent I don't know how to accept help?  Or, if there ever was someone in my life, I won't know how to live a co-dependent life? Or what if I've not listened to myself good enough and now I've become a hermit?

How is one to balance them out? Honestly, I'm not sure, I'm still working it out (and will take any advice you have in the matter). So often I run the far ends of the pendulum. So "confident" I'm a loud, bossy mess (usually when it involves competition of some kind) who has to be around lots of people (not a ton, because I don't do well in really large crowds). So confident that I won't let any one get a word in edge wise and so arrogantly stubborn you can't say one thing without it getting ripped to shreds. Or the other side, going to do my own things without telling anybody because I'm doing them ON. MY. OWN. Or where locking my room door and pulling the covers over my head is much easier than facing people that might ask me questions, even family members.*gasp* You may think these are slightly exaggerated examples, but I've done those exact things so many times, I've lost track. (It does tend to run the hermit track more often than not.)

So where is the balance? How can I learn to be completely me and in the middle?

I keep coming back to the phrase, I am free.

So maybe it's a daily struggle. One that takes years and years of practice. One that is never ending. But one that is made easier because He has set me free.

I don't have to hide behind my "introvert" tendencies or use them as an excuse. I don't have to be ruled by what others feel I should or shouldn't not be confident in.
I'm learning it's okay to be frighten of going somewhere uncomfortable. It's okay to need some quiet time to myself and God to reflect. It's okay if I don't speak up and just listen, even when I feel judged because I don't speak. It's okay that I feel more able to express myself when writing blogs instead of actually speaking them. It's okay to be sure of yourself in certain situations. It's okay to have an opinion. It's okay to need help sometimes. And sometimes, it's okay to be loud. (FYI, if you ever need an announcer in a loud room or someone to do a sound bite of screaming, I've got a good set of lungs. Maybe it's the German in me. HA)

He has made me free to be exactly who He made me. He is completing me just as He designed. And He loves me with all my quirks and pendulum swings. I don't have to be afraid of not being exactly in the middle right now. I'll probably never be in that perfect balanced spot. (And who are we kidding. Balanced is boring, right?) 

So what are your thoughts? What do you do to find that elusive balance? What verses/books/sermons/thoughts have helped?

Learning to live finally free,
Ti-Ti

Greener Grass? or Polar Prospectives?

Purity Rings....

Maybe it was a homeschooler thing. Maybe it was an "Independent Fundamental Baptist" thing. Maybe it was just the hip "Christian" thing to do. When I turned 16, my parents gave me a purity ring. They never told me what finger to put it on. And they may not have even called it a purity ring. Maybe they just called it a promise ring (More like a "promise to God" ring.) Maybe they just gave us rings when we turned 16 cause it was cool and pretty.... (knowing my parents, though, there was a deeper reason than that....)

I honestly have to use both my hands, take off my shoes, and use my neighbors fingers as well to count the number of times I've been asked how long I've been married, if I just got engaged, or any other combination of those two. I answer honestly, but every time I answer it seems to somewhat scare people away..... as though they feel awkward for assuming that or maybe pity for me...

There was a blog floating around recently about a girl who took off her purity ring. She decided that it was making her wait to live her life. She was pursuing a relationship with Christ only so she would get a guy in the end. (not really where I am but a good read, nonetheless, Gracefortheroad- "I Don't Wait Anymore.")
Being as shy as I am, I tend to do things that help me blend in. Often, I've thought of taking my ring off, or maybe try wearing it on a different finger to avoid the conversation.  And sometimes, laugh at me if you will, I've thought that on occasion it has scared several "potentials" away. (Oh, the joys of being a nanny with a ring on. But at least the kids are cute so I take it as a compliment when people think they're mine... "Ma'am, you make beautiful babies." HA!!!) But my reasons for possibly taking it off were nothing similar to what this girl decided.

Last Sunday, we talked about being single and marriage (and a bit of other stuff too). The point that spoke the most to me was the encouragement and discipleship that needs to go both ways- from singles to marrieds, from marrieds to singles. Both of them have their own struggles and insights into life and neither "side" has the "greener grass."
{P.S. free advertisement here- if you want to hear the message -or any of the other messages from my awesome pastor -(yes, he's my brother, no I'm not biased) go here- highplains.org- sermons (this message is "the Gifted- Part 22)}

So here's my thought. Let's understand each other a bit better by getting both sides of this story. Married peoples, what are your thoughts about "purity rings" and singles what do you think about them?

Before you give your insight, let me shed a bit of light on how I view my purity ring. (And honestly, I'm probably not going to take mine off anytime soon, if ever- even if it does produce some awkward times for me. Partly because you'd have to be very convincing toward why I should because I've inherited both my parents stubbornness, partly because it doesn't fit on any other finger, and partly because my finger would look deformed because I've been wearing it so long.) (Whoa, totally felt like Tevye from Fiddler On the Roof there, "on one hand... on the other hand.... on the other hand...") I don't believe this ring is causing me to "wait" to live my life. I've always been a firm believer of living where you are. Like Mike said in the sermon, "wherever you are in life, be all there." (or something similar to that) I don't even really view it as a reminder to avoid "temptation". My view on the purity ring is more broad I guess. Sort of a promise, no that's not the right word, a.... commitment...a.... striving....to put God above my own selfish desires, no matter what those desires are. It's there to remind me that I'm not here for me and me only.

Does that even make sense? Where are you on this? What are your thoughts and insights?

(P.S. it was also mentioned that we need to be open and tell others what "hurts" us in our different "relationship statuses". Here's a good read from a singles side of things convergemagazine-"26, unmarried and childless)

Getting both sides of the story,
Ti-Ti

Troubling Transitions and Trails

I feel it in the wind.... just around the bend. And no- I'm not talking about Pocahontas.

Change

At the end of last year, I did a post about feeling ready for change- like I was on the edge of the cliff waiting for the jump. But now I think I've got locked knees and a fear of ricocheting off the sharp rocks on the way down.

I don't think I knew exactly what I was asking for when I said I wanted change. I think I had a prefect plan for "change" in my head and when it's not going where I though it would.... well, let's just pretend that my plan was to always stay at the top of the cliff and enjoy the view rather than bungee off.

So often I get this picture perfect image in my head of where I am going. I pat myself on the back for how open I am to change and growth. I imagine how "my picture" will be the most amazing thing that God has done in my life. And somehow, I'll easy into this change with the grace only displayed by the characters of a BBC movie. But God never does things quite my way. Because, most of the time, my way isn't right or where He wants me.

I still feel a bit stagnant- but you know- maybe that stagnant feeling is just me digging in my heels.

 

You see, I really feel that God has given me a dream for my future house. I desperately want at least a 2 bedroom house so that I can use that second room as a ministry. I want to open it up to mainly single girls. Single mothers who need a jumping point. Single missionary ladies visiting. Girls that are needed a place between housing for a bit. But mostly, for those single girls that just need to be independent and move out of their parent's house. I'm not encouraging separation of the unhealthy kind at all. And I won't advise them on whether it is healthy or not- that's between them and God. But honestly, it was sooo good for me to get out of my parents house. I love both of my parents to death. I wouldn't trade them ever, even for a really, really, really nice camera. (ha) And I would surely go back to living with them in a moments notice, if that was were God had me. But sometimes, we just need a jumping off point to get on our own. Sometimes, we're just floating in that environment and we have to learn to get out on our own. A halfway house if you will. My jumping point was- and is- Mike and Mindy's basement. It has opened my eyes to what I want my future house to be like.

I don't think that I've put this dream in my head. I really do think that God has given it to me. But perhaps I'm pushing it to happen sooner than it needs too. I'm so impatient to start my dream that I think it is highly unlikely that God will move me to a place that will not meet this dream. And because this is such a "God-given" dream, surely He can't wait for me to be able to do it and will make it happen sooner rather than later, right? (ha)


But what if he doesn't put me there? What if He keeps me here for a very long time? What if he moves me to a place where the "dream" can't/won't/shouldn't start for many, many years? What if He takes away that dream? Will I complain about it? Will I claim money restraints are holding me back? Will I create my own little drama were I am now? Will I become so sensitive to not going where I want that I create rifts and roadblocks of my own? Will I seclude myself in my room eating handfuls of Lucky Charms and an entire box of fruit snacks?

I think that's where I'm in of danger of going now. Becoming so impatient to get where I think I should be at this time in my life that I become discontent. Looking at all my friends and comparing where they are and looking dismally at where I am. Imaging people thinking all kinds of disparaging thoughts about where I am and what I'm doing in and with my life. And it doesn't even have to be with my living situation. I've done this with so many areas of my life where I feel like I haven't got a purpose.

But the thing is- the thing I'm trying to remember when I get so discouraged and down about my life as it is now- is that it doesn't matter. None of these temporary things- that seem like such a big deal to me - really matter. (And to be truthful, sometimes these things are really small. Like really small.)

What really matters is where I am in Christ- my relationship with God. If this "bump" in my plans brings me closer to him and brings Him glory, then I hope I can be like Paul as he followed Christ in saying "Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope"  (Yes, Mother. Character is an elephant still. ha) or "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.." Or like Peter " In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." This is the best option for me. (And even though some of the stuff that I may call "trails" wouldn't normally be classified as that, they sure seem like "hardships" to me.)

That doesn't mean I'm surrendered to this. That I will freely go about my life with a charming smile, accepting everything in my life even if it's not what I planned, never worrying about what others think about where I am. Oh no, I'm far too stubborn for that. There will be multitudes of nights with me crying that nothing is the way it should be. There will be gobs of days with me hanging my head in despair. There will be a ton of moments when I'm complaining to God that He's not going the right way. But you see, if I were to just easily accept this, where would the growth be? Where would my relationship with God be if I never needed Him? If I took everything that came easily, I would never need to look up. And, honestly, there have been a lot of dark times for me lately. Times when I seemed to like looking at the mud at the bottom of my pit rather than the sunlight and the hand reaching for me at the top of the pit. But that also means that I've been needing to do a lot of looking up. And sometimes, I've felt a bit blinded by the sunlight because I've been groping around in the dark for so long.

But here's the thing:

No matter where I'm "going" with my life, it doesn't change who I am in Him.

No matter if I feel like I don't matter, it doesn't change how He loves me.

No matter if I'm forever living in basement until I'm 78, it doesn't change how He can use me.

No matter if I never get "my dream", it doesn't change that He died for me.

 

"When I lose my way,
And I forget my name,
Remind me who I am.
In the mirror all I see,
Is who I don't wanna be,
Remind me who I am.
In the loneliest places,
When I can't remember what grace is.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You,
That I belong to You.
To You.

When my heart is like a stone,
And I'm running far from home,
Remind me who I am.
When I can't receive Your love,
Afraid I'll never be enough,
Remind me who I am.
If I'm Your beloved,
Can You help me believe it.

I'm the one you love,
I'm the one you love,
That will be enough,
I'm the one you love.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You.
That I belong to You."- Jason Gray

Looking up,
Ti-Ti