The Response

My response to Jesus:

It's too wonderful, your love for me.

You pursue me.

You want me.

You think I'm worth dying for, worth really living for- thank you!

Thank you for not giving up on me.

I am not a project to be completed but a person in the process of life.

Thank you for passing me friends when I forget.

I am your daughter, co-heir with Christ. 

Thank you for reminding me with your Word when I forget.

You are making me new, something that has never before existed-

from Leah to Lover, my new name.

My heart burns within me when you talk to me and open the scriptures up to me.

Thank you for not leaving me alone.

What's next, Papa?

Love,

Leah

Too Wonderful

I haven't written in awhile. Honestly, it's because I didn't think I had anything good to say or that anyone would be interested in reading. But when I started this writing adventure two years ago I started it for me, not for readers. If you happen to relate or feel understood or feel anything in response to my writing, that's amazing, but that's not primarily why I write. I write because I have to- because the words are heavy on my mind and in my heart, because my creative soul will burst if I try to keep the words in any longer, because I am a writer (one of many things I am).

The past few weeks have been extremely emotional. I feel like I've been on a terrible fair ride and I've far exceeded my limit of spins and bumps and nauseating turns. I've experienced a lot of loss lately. No, no one in my life has died. But people have left, moved on, moved away. My expectations of life and relationship and God have been drastically unrealistic. And every time I have to let go of something, some thought, someone it is loss. I grieve. It's a lesson in living life palms up, not holding anything or anyone too tightly. It's a lesson in leaning into my feelings, not letting them overtake me. It's a lesson in believing truth over lies. 

This morning I crashed into a wave of emotions, mostly confusion and sadness. I was driving home after dropping Em off at school. Dan and I had a weird misunderstanding that felt like an argument before I left. A few nights before he had told me, "You don't have to be a 'good' wife or a 'good' mom or a 'good' anything. I want you to be you." And it was confusing to me. And hurtful. Why don't you want me to be "good"? I'm trying really hard here. This morning while I was driving all those thoughts came rushing back to me and I cried out to God, "If I'm not supposed to be 'good' then what am I supposed to be?! What do you think of me, Father?!" And through the ugliest tears and coughing cries, I encountered my greatest fear, the thing that I fight so hard against, the thing that drives me to be "good" and do well. If I'm not a good wife or a good mom or a good anything, I'm afraid my suspicions will be confirmed- I really am a fuck-up. If I can't keep my house clean or my husband happy or my daughter contentedly engaged in play, then what can I do? I felt like a complete failure. And at that exact moment, in a heap of emotion, God was there. He was with me sweetly and gently. Sometimes he's firm, like dads sometimes have to be, but not this morning. Today he was really kind. He told me that he made me good. Not our version of "good" either, the one we have to work for and perform for and earn. No- he made me His kind of good. The kind that he intended from the very beginning, in the garden (Genesis 1:31, NKJV). The kind he intended when he knit me together in my mother's womb, on purpose, with skill and care (Psalm 139, all of it). It's too wonderful. He made me to be me, not anyone or anything else. And as I am transformed more and more into his likeness (2 Corinthians 3:18, AMP), the things he made me to be begin to exhibit more and more of his character. What an honor, what a privilege to be like Jesus, to know that this compassionate nature he has given me is the same compassionate nature He has. It's too wonderful. It really is.

I picked a word for 2016- enjoy. This year I want to let go of the try-hard life. I'm reading Grace for the Good Girl, I stole that byline from Emily Freeman. I think enjoying life deeply starts with enjoying God and enjoying who he made me to be. Instead of relentlessly pushing back, fighting against the changes he wants to make in me, the lessons he wants to help me unlearn, the truth he wants me to rest in, I want to embrace it. I want to play to my strengths. I care and love and laugh and talk and eat and listen and cook and dance really well. I'm going to do more of what I'm good at and less of what I'm not. My house won't always be clean and my husband's clothes won't always be ironed and we might eat dinner at 7:30, but my home and my heart and my life will always be full. And you are welcome. You are welcome to my home and my table and my heart. You are welcome to learn God and you and me. We can enjoy together. No pressure. Just want you to know you're invited.

Love,

Leah

#allthefeels

If you know me even a little bit you know I feel all the feels. I've done this thing lately where I don't take time to process my feelings before moving on and doing whatever the next thing is that's urgent enough to steal my attention. And so I've been piling. It sucks. I know it's not good for me. I know I need to take time to nurture myself. So here I am, eight weeks after my last post, writing. I'm also yell-singing Rend Collective songs. Sometimes I just have to yell the truth until my heart and mind start believing it.

***

Three weeks ago I felt really sad. I felt grateful for my new friends and the ways our relationships are growing, but I also felt really tired from all the work that goes into new relationships. All the words, all the time, all the emotions. And because of that I really just wanted to be snuggled by old friends. Friends who don't really need words to understand. Friends who let me be awkward when I can't quite seem to get it together. Friends who tell me I am enough when I feel like I'm not. And then, like the best surprise, my friend from high school told me she'd be in town for two weeks. She'd love to get together before the wedding we'd both attend. I kind of cried a little bit (because you know I feel all the feels). Even though I hadn't prayed it out loud, even though I couldn't remember to ask for what I needed, God gave it to me anyway. Lindsey came over with her son Ian and we laughed and ate dinner and the kids danced/spun into oblivion. When she left I felt like I had been weird, preoccupied, exhausted. I apologized. You know what she said? She told me I am enough and not too much, however I am. And I cried again (because all the feels). Sometimes I forget that God's grace is for me. It makes sense to me that it's for other people, that God can forgive and love and cover every word and deed in grace. There's a disconnect when I think about me, though. I can't seem to shake the "you're not enough" lie. I'm not sure how it crept in, where it originated, but it has poisoned my mind. And God reminds me in his unending love that I am enough. He sends people I need with words I need and snuggles. Always snuggles. When I think about me I see my failures but when I think about Jesus I see how much he loves me. He loves me enough to make his home in me, he loves me enough to share his inheritance with me, he loves me enough to mix up new mercy for me each morning. He loves me enough. He is enough. I am enough.

***

Dan and I attended a wedding last weekend for our friends Amethyst and Glenn. Dan took pictures and I listened intently to the wedding homily. The Archbishop said so many beautiful things, but one particular thing he said struck me and sank deep. He referenced Ephesians 5 where Paul addresses how wives and husbands should submit to one another. "Wives submit to your husbands in everything" (verse 24). "But husbands love your wives as Christ loved the church. He gave up his life for her... "(verse 25). The Archbishop asked is it easier to obey or to die? Marriage is about dying to self. It's about taking up the cross daily. Sometimes I forget. I leave the cross. Because it's heavy and painful and I know how the story ends. It ends with me dying. But there's more. It really ends with me being raised to life. "Here is a trustworthy saying: If we died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him" (2 Timothy 2:11-12). When I die to myself, my marriage comes alive. It becomes the portrait of God's love for his church that it was intended to be. People can see God's goodness all around because he is alive at the center. In the fog of dishes and laundry and dinner prep and chauffeuring and cleaning, I forget our life together is sacred. I forget to rest and relish and believe the truth over the lies. Our life together is holy, set apart, sacred. At it's best, our marriage shows God's love to the world. I know the weekend was a celebration of the beginning of Amethyst and Glenn's married life together, but it was also a sobering reminder to die to myself. Only then can I, and my relationship with Dan, be fully alive. Dan's worth it, by the way. 

***

This week marks a new first for us. Em started VPK yesterday! I was so nervous to drop her off. The thing I've been doing 24/7 for almost 5 years was about to end. I was going to take her to school. And then I was going to leave. Weird. Dan was able to have the morning off so we all went together. She wanted to pose for a photo with her lunchbox in hand and her left foot up behind her- classic Emma! She was adorable. She gave us both huge squeeze hugs and sprinted in her classroom. Just like that. She was off- trying something new with new people in a new place, on her own. I kept it together pretty well until we got to the car. Dan started telling me what a wonderful mother I am. He told me that I had been successful at the one thing I had known for sure I wanted to do with my life, being a mom. He said Em would do so well. You know the all-the-feels tears started flowing. How did I get this life with such a wonderful husband, such a bright-shining daughter? Why do I miss that so often? Why can I only see the piles of papers and laundry and dishes? Why can I only feel the exhaustion and pain and emptiness? It's simple. It's just like Melissa always told me, "Leah, you're focusing on the lack. Your brilliant, analytical mind focuses on what you don't have. Instead, look at what you do have and enjoy." 

Grow, baby, grow! Mommy's growing with you. We'll hold each other loosely and live with palms up, accepting what comes our way with faith, hope, and love. 

***

I'm learning lots of lessons at 27. Three things I'd like to spend more time thinking about and doing more of in the next few weeks:

-Be over do. I am a human being not a human doing (as my Sunday school teacher always says). My validation comes from what Jesus has already completed not from anything I have done or could ever do. Choose the essential thing and, just like Mary, sit at Jesus' feet hanging on every word he says. 

-Rest. Take time to disconnect from the things that pull me in many different directions and connect to truth, friends, family.

-FUN! Have more dance parties. Yell-sing to more songs. Be spontaneous. Laugh a lot. 

***

Share your thoughts, reflections, or 3 things with me in the comments! Happy September! 

Love,

Leah

Plans

I was groomed for one way of life: the American upper-middle class life. Work hard, once or twice a year take a vacation. Two parents, married, living together, working hard (always). Go to church. Go to ballet. Go to school. Excel in school? Great, get on the IB track. Get scholarships. Go to college. Pick one major and then just follow through. Work a few jobs to get some experience and make very little money. Graduate, get hired in your field, make more money.

Something happened, though, between the IB track and college graduation. I started dating Dan. Until then I pretty much knew my plan, knew I just had to stick to it- power through, finish, do, be successful. I thought success was what I wanted, I thought I wanted people to be proud of me, I thought I wanted to be the one who "did it right"... But I went on adventures with Dan. He held me in the rain, picked wild sunflowers for me, spent summer mornings on the beach with me, watched planes take off at the airport with me. I realized that maybe I wanted more things. I wanted to be with someone who loved me and cared for me and saw my intrinsic value. I wanted adventures and the unknown. I wanted Dan and the life we would have together more than I wanted to stick to the plan. Lucky for me he wanted the same thing. So, we unknowingly said bye to the plan and got married six years ago. We jumped ship on the only way of life we knew anything about and said yes to the unknown.

Unfortunately, there's no real protocol for dealing with the ones who go rogue. In the beginning we don't even really know what to do with ourselves. And by "beginning" I of course mean every moment between the day we got married and now. We thought we could just keep working, I could finish school, we could live cheaply until we could save enough to buy a house, have a few kids, and keep working. We didn't realize that we couldn't go back to the plan. We had already dismissed it with attitudes and choices, but it was all we knew so we kept trying to implement it. It was maddening. Our first year of marriage felt terrible for both of us. It was riddled with misunderstandings and hurtful words and unrealistic expectations. We didn't understand then that the disappointment we felt was about our life in general, about how things weren't really happening the way we had anticipated. So we took it out on each other. Instead of seeing ourselves as allies in the fight against something outside, we saw the other as the disappointment itself. It was an awful thing to think and an awful thing to feel. And then, after being married for six months, living together in a 300 square foot apartment, seeing each other as the disappointment, we found out that I was pregnant. As if we needed something else to solidify our rogue status (apparently we did because we remained largely unaware of this until recently). No one knows what to do with you when you're the young-twenty-something parents who have been given all the opportunity in the world but only one of you is working and the other is trying to finish school and neither one of you really has any idea of what to do next and the economy super-sucks. We felt sad, hurt, alone, tired. Tired of trying to make our life work according to the original plan. At this point some major variables in the original "way of life" equation had changed and we couldn't figure out how to solve it. It was eating away at us.

This is about the point in the story where I hope to see character development and redemption and resolution. It's not as linear as all that, though. Every day-month-year is full of conflict and resolution, failure and redemption. One thing that should stay pretty constant though is the character growth. If you wade through miserable things in life you should continually be refined. Forward, never back. Present over perfect. Every time.

I'm happy to report that while getting married young and having a baby shortly after has drastically altered our life plan, we didn't even really like that plan anyway! We're reading a lot of books, spending a lot of time praying. I'm spending a lot of time in therapy, correcting my thinking. You know an important thing that was missing from the original plan? Enjoyment. Delight. Relishing. God has given me this one life, this one present moment. Why waste it trying to execute plans? I want to spend more of my energy being present. I want to snuggle more people, listen more closely, drink more tea, hike more trails, dance to more music, practice more yoga, love even bigger. And every conflict Dan and I face together pushes me closer and closer to this point. The point where I want to love and be loved, to belong and offer belonging, to enjoy each moment. We're in the long middle of our life right now. We're not as young or naive as we used to be but we're not old enough to settle down. We want to do some things, help a lot of people, make Jesus famous. We have a lot of passion but we don't really know what to do with it. We're exploring alternate life paths. Maybe we'll RV across the country. Maybe we'll adopt some kids (hopefully!). Maybe we'll play music and hug everybody. Maybe I'll write a book. Maybe Dan will start his own photography business. Maybe our family will open a restaurant. Maybe we'll commit to being here, now. Maybe we'll stay. Maybe we'll go. I don't know where our story goes from here, but I still feel really good about my decision to do life forever with Dan. He continues to love me and value me for who I am. He sees my potential and gets excited about it. He makes me laugh uncontrollably. He encourages me to keep moving forward, progressing. He snuggles Emma and wrestles with her every night- even when he's tired. He cooks with her and takes her out for ice cream treats. He plays with her and listens to her. He is kind, smart, silly, fun. He says he'd pick me every time. I know I would pick him every time too. I'm glad he's the one thing I felt confident about. Even at 20 I knew I didn't really want my original life path. I knew I wanted to make my own and I knew I wanted Dan to be with me. Thanks for sticking with me, babe.

Love,
Leah



***No one person is to blame for my confusing thoughts on having a plan for my life. As an adult I take full responsibility for my wandering. I'm coming out of it now, finding my voice and exploring the life God has written for me. Thanks for going with me.***

Madness

Life is hard. Every time Dan and I talk about the budget I'm reminded that the money doesn't like us. We like it, but the feeling certainly isn't mutual. We do ok on our own for about a year with only one of us working. Over the course of that year our savings dwindles and we frantically search for new jobs, new housing, anything to lower our expenses and increase our earnings. We've spent a total of 18 months at my in-laws' home over the course of our six married years. I can't go back there. Please don't misunderstand, I love my in-laws and they love me back (despite my nasty attitude problem in our early years as a family). I am grateful for them and how they graciously shared their space and their life with us. Twice. I love being part of their family. But I also really like our own family identity. We're coming to the last year before Em is in kindergarten. I just need something in the money to work in our favor for one year, maybe more years after that, but I'm here now. Let's start with this year.

I feel so mind-bottled. I feel like I might be crazy. I cry out to my Father, "Abba, help me! Hear me! Provide for my family! You know what we need. You are a good Father. Please, help me!" I don't know where to turn, what to do. I feel frantic, worried, scared. My own thoughts betray me and I buy into the lies. Beating back the darkness feels impossible. Then, light. Peace like rushing rivers pours over me. I am secure in His love, in His care. I remember who I am- God's kid. In Luke 11:9 Jesus reminds God's kids they can ask and keep on asking and they will receive, seek and keep on seeking and they will find, knock and keep on knocking and the door shall be opened. In verse 13 he says to them, "If you then, evil as you are, know how to give good gifts [gifts that are to their advantage] to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask and continue to ask Him!" I can't give up- not now. I know that You are here now/Let Your voice be all I hear now (Here Now-Madness, Empires, Hillsong United, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sz_IuYUdNR4). Ask and keep on asking, seek and keep on seeking, knock and keep on knocking.

My Father is good and will fill me with His Holy Spirit. Maybe that doesn't give you much hope or encourage you enough to stay in the fight for your life. Maybe you're like me and you forget the Holy Spirit's other names, forget what a treasure He is. Before Jesus ascended to the Father he told his friends, "The Comforter [Counselor, Helper, Intercessor, Advocate, Strengthener, Standby], the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name [in My place, to represent Me and act on My behalf], He will teach you all things. And He will cause you to recall (will remind you of, bring to your remembrance) everything I have told you," (John 14:26, AMP). And it's true. He reminds me of the truth, even if it's just a fragment of a verse and I spend the next few minutes sorting through all my Google results. He reminds me still. I sit here in tears, remembering the faithfulness of God, remembering my Gramma. I thought about her because she would always send me little notes with scripture written on the back- always the Amplified Bible translation. Always. At sixteen I felt like the AMP was redundant. Why were all those other words in there? I'm not dumb. But now, as I see all the different names for the Holy Spirit it fills my heart so full. He really is all those things for me.

I take a moment to pray (literally, right now), yell at the devil, remind myself of the truth, and stay in the fight for my life. Because Jesus already won, I did too. Now it's time to live like it and remain engaged. I keep reminding myself to "put on the full armor of God, so that [I] can take [my] stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes [I] may be able to stand [my] ground, and after [I] have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then... And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests," (Ephesians 6:12-14, 18, NIV). How should I stand? Holding my position, the one of victory. Exhibiting courage, strength, and calm. How many times am I supposed to stand or take my stand or stand my ground? Again and again, over and over- protected by the armor of God, praying in the Spirit at all times.

Be encouraged- the light is breaking through! It may only be a sliver through a cracked door, but the door is opening. Keep knocking. The weight is lifting. Some of the burdens you bear, they weren't even meant for you. Jesus wants them all. He wants to take them so you can live free, unfettered, whole, at peace. He wants that for all his kids. Lean into it. Be embraced. Be loved. Be free. He is a good, good Father.

I love you, friends. The struggle is real. I'm in it with you and God is too. Our champion. Look up. Heaven is closer than you know (Closer than You Know, Empires, Hillsong United, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0vW68IovHeU).

***Yes, I am on a Hillsong United kick. I have been since I was fifteen. Can't stop. Won't stop.

Love,
Leah

Therapy

It's been a long time of wandering. Eight years, to be exact. Wandering the halls of my mind confused, hurt, alone. Wandering my life path without direction, hope, purpose. When you're wandering and your heart is suffering, it's hard to distinguish truth from lie. Especially because the lies that take root the deepest always have a lot of truth mixed up in them. I've believed the lie that I need to be safe (which is the truth part of the lie) and I can do that by controlling things- thinking through/weighing every decision, making lists and checking things off to prove my worth, anticipating conflicts and trying to avoid them. I also believed the lie that who I am is good but not good enough. As a result of believing that lie I even became co-dependent. I had no identity on my own because it felt safer to just put others before me and focus on what they want and need. I never took time to nurture myself. So I withered and lost myself. I gave up the voice God gave me because I didn't think it was good enough. And as I started to feel anxiety and stress and fear crush my body, I knew I needed help. I wasn't sleeping. I wasn't eating (much). I wasn't good for myself or anyone else. My friend recommended her therapist to me. It took me a month to muster up enough courage to even contact the office and admit that I needed help. I think that was the hardest part. But then the good part happened: therapy.

My therapist is kind, warm, understanding, safe, true. I almost fell asleep on her sofa towards the end of my first session. It was the most relaxed I had been in months. She told me that all she had done was draw my attention to the present- sights, sounds, smells around me. "Use that when you feel anxious and be in the present," she told me. She gave me permission to take things for myself and enjoy them (like moments to drink hot tea or watch the sunrise or feel the sand or sing). She gave me permission to nurture myself. Maybe that "permission" part sounds weird to you, but to someone like me who follows rules and is obsessed with doing the exact right thing at the exact right time and finds their worth/value in the things they do, that "permission" part is absolutely necessary. I needed someone to tell me it was ok to take care of myself. In fact, it's the best thing I can do. So I started. The first week I had a cup of hot green tea with just the right amount of honey. I took that moment and I liked it. The second week I upped my game and stood at the top of a green hill, arms spread wide and watched as a million tabebuia seeds washed over me. Later that week I went to the beach and felt the sand in my hands and noted the texture. I remembered that I came from dust and to dust I will return but for this moment God has breathed his breath of life in me and I am alive. I watched the moon's reflection dance on the ocean- the same moon and same ocean that have always been. I took those moments and I liked it. I enjoyed them and felt more whole, more like me. In an effort to find my voice I've said no to people without explanation. And my therapist asked me if the world stopped spinning... it didn't, by the way. I've started reminding myself who I really am so I won't get confused or lost again (or at least not for long). In case you're wondering who I really am, I am a lover. Lover of sun, green things, smiles, bright colors, rainbows, friends, tea, sweaters, ocean, birds, music, food, blankets, summer, friends (I would list friends a million times because they're my favorite). God made me to love him and to point people to him. What better way to do that than to delight in the life he has given me- to enjoy and to love.

I found this beautiful passage in Philippians 1 (MSG) a few days ago and it reminds me who I am:

9-11 So this is my prayer: that your love will flourish and that you will not only love much but well. Learn to love appropriately. You need to use your head and test your feelings so that your love is sincere and intelligent, not sentimental gush. Live a lover’s life, circumspect and exemplary, a life Jesus will be proud of: bountiful in fruits from the soul, making Jesus Christ attractive to all, getting everyone involved in the glory and praise of God.

So, if you see me again soon and you think I'm crazy, that's cool. The real Leah is a lover and kind of a hippie. She's learning to enjoy this life, trust her intuition, just be, and use that beautiful voice God gave her. I'm sure that will sound weird to some people. But hey, I'm me- no explanation or justification necessary. I am enough. And, good news: so are you!

Love,
Leah

Drought

Sometimes the community drought is too much. I hate it. All my favorite healthy people tell me that life is better lived in community, in sharing our stories and being vulnerable, in authenticity and understanding (look them up: Brené Brown, Bob Goff, Shauna Niequist, Donald Miller, Judah Smith). That resonates with something old and deep and true in me. I think God put it there. He made me to know and to be known- I think he made all of us that way. So why the hell can't we get on board with that? It's so frustrating. I bring me, all of me, into relationships. People matter. We are the only things that are eternal. The weight of that understanding guides me in relationships. That's why I'm all in. Because you matter and our time together here has consequences for eternity.

Dan and I have done a lot of restructuring in our lives to make time for what we think is most important. You want to know what's most important to us? It's the big two: loving God and loving people (Matthew 22:37-40). We leave early mornings open for time to pray and read. We leave evenings open for time with friends. We leave weekends open for time together, just the three of us. Of course sometimes other things creep in and we don't get to stick to our time margins for the week, but overall we establish boundaries and protect them.

You know what a lot of people we love say when we invite them over or ask to get together throughout the week? That they have a lot going on, things are really busy, they'll get back to us when things are less busy. I get that. Sometimes I have full weeks too. You're busy. You're doing things, going places, accomplishing goals. There's nothing inherently wrong with any of those things. But I think we can potentially be busy for all our days, weeks, months, years here on earth. We could spend all the time we have working hard for all the things, making the kind of impact we think we should, accomplishing all the tasks, achieving great status. All those things are about doing. I think it's so hard for me because I'm learning an important lesson right now- the "be" over "do" lesson. I don't have to be anything or anyone other than me. God made me to be forever with Him. He loves me always, no matter what. There's nothing I can do to make him love me more or less. Now, I'm not saying that because this is the thing I'm learning that everyone else wrong and I'm Mary, you're Martha (Luke 10:38-42) and you're not living your life right and I'm better than you. That's not it at all.  I'm just mourning the loss of what could have been- the connection, the understanding, the embrace, the increased knowledge of God that comes from life lived together. I hate being apart. It's not self-induced and it's not for my lack of trying, but this community drought sucks.

Stay tuned for Part II. I think God made me passionate about community because he wants me to be part of redeeming it. What am I good at? What do I really love? Being a friend. I'm wired for it. I'll let you know what happens next. Thanks for learning with me. It's a slow process, but I'm getting better. 

Love,
Leah