the bathroom status of friendship

I've hit what seems to be a string of "bad luck" lately when it comes to friendships. I have been bewildered by this for quite sometime, but last night it hit me why some friendships keep on failing.

Well at least I thought they were.

Truth is they really weren't friendships at all.

Growing up I had plenty of best friends. We even had necklaces that said so.

I shared my life with my friends. I told them everything, which at age ten isn't a whole lot, but still.

I'm sure this is how many of you feel about your childhood friendships too. As children we grow up thinking everyone is our best friend. We share our lives with them and why wouldn't we? God made us relational beings.

But somewhere along the line someone effs it up.

We become jaded. (ja-ja-jaded)

So and So told So and So that you like So and So and trust is broken.

We unknowingly start building up walls that over years of hurt relationships become our home where we build up certain comfort zones for certain people.

First you have your drive by friends. You know the ones I'm talking about. You put on a smile as they pass you by. You might even toss 'em a wave but that's as far as your friendship goes. They only get to see the surface, put together, happy, you.

Second you have your porch friends. People to shoot the breeze with. Sip on lemonade with as your children play together in the yard. You ask how each other is doing, not really expecting a true answer. You chit chat about work and you may even scratch the surface of real talk but you change the subject before things get awkward or dare I say it?

Real.

Then there are the friendships that actually make it inside.

Third you've got your Sunday brunchers. The kind of people who know just enough of the real you to invite them inside. But don't be deceived...the Sunday brunchers can easily be made into the porch friends or even the drive by friends if things get too real. If someone, who obviously doesn't know they are just a Sunday bruncher, oversteps the invisible boundaries you have set up for them. Maybe they challenge you on something you believe. Or they happen to have a different way of raising their children and you think they're talking down to you about the way you do things. Whatever it may be, they're usually one step away from getting the boot with no remorse from you.

Fourth we have the dinner friends. A much more intimate friendship. These friends have usually been around for a while. They've earned a spot at your table. Chances are somewhere in your friendship you've hurt each other and have reconciled but there are still walls up that they are not allowed passed. And sadly, much like the Sunday brunchers, if they push the limits you have set up for them they just become a passing wave.

Now for our fifth and final most important area of friendships. The only area I consider to be an actual friend to be honest.

The bathroom.

No not the nice neat guest bathroom that rarely ever gets used. I mean the master bathroom.

The room that has seen it all. The good, the bad, and the down right nasty.

The room you first gave you kids a bath in.
The room you and your spouse have made love in countless times.
The room you sing in at the top of your lungs because God has answered your prayers.
The room you scream in until you're blue in the face because your spouse has been unfaithful...again.
The room you puke in when you don't like what's looking back at you in the mirror.
The room you have a mental breakdown in when life, as you know it, has come crashing down around you, and you have no idea why.

Yes this is the room where only the truest of friends get to go.

And yet there will come a day when even they may become a passerby...sadly without even so much as a wave.

Why?

When and how did friendships become so freakin complicated?!

Well I'll tell you when mine did...or at least my best guess.

(this is a long blog...I'm sure I lost most of you at the bathroom part lol just bear with me.)

You see in high school I had gone on a missions trip to New Orleans and that is where I met my original "florida boys."

They quickly became some of the truest friends I had ever had.

Through many trips back and forth we all became inseparable. We knew each other for who the other truly was and we all still loved each other.

Sure I had my friendships at home too but none compared to my boys. They were all I needed.

Then life got hard.

My brother had become very sick around this time of year in 2008 and on June 6th he was gone.

I did not receive even so much as a phone call from any of my florida boys. I shrugged it off at the time because, let's be real, I had bigger things to worry about.

The friendship that held us once together was severed. I no longer had any faith in the God who took my brother from this world and I wanted nothing to do with Him.

No one of course knew that I had made this switch. I mean what kind of Christian would I be if I actually admitted my distrust in the One I am supposed to have all of my trust in?

And this is when my house became my own personal dungeon.

I didn't let anyone in.

Not even my fiance at the time.

For an entire year everyone in my life became a passerby, when all of them thought they were at bathroom status.

At the end of that year the walls of my dungeon came crumbling down and the truth of who I had become was evident to everyone.

I was exhausted.

In my numbness to any feelings whatsoever and in my plan to escape any sort of reality where my brother was no longer, I became unfaithful to the man I had once promised to marry.

I had gotten so good at putting up a front and masking my complete and udder ugliness that I even went on a missions trip during that year.

I faked happiness and understanding when I had neither.

When the truth finally came out and the dust cleared from the damage I had done, there were 6 remaining.

None of which were my beloved florida boys. All of which flew up to be with my now ex. Apparently a break up was more significant then a death to them.

Allen and Shannon Coleman.
Justin and Hannah (soon-to-be) Prevost.
Sean Burke.
Catherine Schauer.

These were the 6 that remained.

I don't even know why they stuck around to be honest. The person I had become is someone I would never in a million years be friends with.

But they got it. They knew what friendship truly meant when I had zero concept.

It terrifies me to think about where I would be or who I would of become without those steadfast 6.

I stayed in Catherine's dorm for a whole week when I was no longer welcomed into my own home.

Hannah, Justin, and Sean all bought me a plane ticket to California when my life here was clearly toxic.

Allen and Shannon opened their home (four kids and two dogs) to a selfish wretch like me.

They without a doubt changed the course of my life forever and I don't think any of them know how truly thankful I am that they let God use them to undoubtedly save my life.

The sad part is at the time I could only see the friends that were walking away instead of being thankful for the ones that had not.

That story could go on forever. Trust me when I say, that is the short version.

Bottom line is that after all of that, I decided to become the most honest person you have ever met...without truly letting people in.

In my attempt to not have any walls up, my honesty became my new home.

And thus the areas of friendship were rebuilt but this time I was honest with all of them.

The casual, "how are you doing?" would be answered much like this, "really shitty but God is good. Thanks for asking!"

Yeah some people are just not a fan of that much honesty.

Now I don't really know how to explain this so please have patience with me. (anyone who has made it this far in this blog clearly has patience.)

My blunt honesty turned into walls without me even knowing it.

In me being honest I just assumed that I was building deep relationships.

Instead of letting people get to know me, I just let them know facts about me.

It really hit me last night while in an argument with a friend that I have so many friendships that are just surface friendships but when things get hard I expect them to act like deep relationships.

You can imagine how stupid I feel.

And they aren't to blame.

I've been so hurt by past (and some present) relationships that I'm really only giving them surface stuff while expecting them to know that I would do anything for them.

Which I would! But how would any of them know that?

I expect people to have my back but why would they? 99% of them don't even know me!

They know facts about me but they don't know the real me.

I feel like I am not the only one who can relate to this...some of you may just be realizing how true this is in your life.

I know I am.

We get so jaded along the way that we're left alone in our adulthood wondering why no one is a good friend.

Look in the mirror.

Now there are, of course, the exceptions. There are actually people who, for whatever reason, are just terrible friends.

You just need to make sure that you are not one of them.

Let people in.

I know this is a terrifying concept.

But I can guarantee that if we all were just real and let God use us for who we really are, lives will be changed.

Walls would come crumbling down and more and more people would be left standing when the dust clears with arms stretched out wanting to help you through the hard times and rejoice with you in the happy times. (a friend who can rejoice in your happiness is a true friend. Jealousy does not look good on anyone.)

Are my feelings still going to get hurt?

Yes.

Am I still going to hurt some one's feelings?

Unfortunately, yes.

That's why we're called humans. No one is perfect...even if they seem like they've got it all together, chances are they do not. They are just as jaded and messed up as you.

So give grace when they fall.

Give truth in love when necessary and expect it in return.

Challenge and question one another, but remember that some people might still have you out on the porch so do not be surprised if your opinion is not greeted with open arms.

Friends should be there to make you stronger, not tear you down.

And with the difficult seemingly moronic "friends"...let them go. If you find yourself being more damaged by them then built up just give them to God.

Not all of us were made to be best friends, let alone friends in general, and that needs to be okay too.

But I know it's time for me to start really taking a look at what kind of friend I am and what kind of friend we are going to raise our daughter to be.

Our Story

This blog has been a long time coming.

Since December 10th, 2010, I have been writing and rewriting this blog over and over again in my head.

Nothing seems right.

I do not know where to begin...

The logical spot would be the beginning so I guess here goes nothin.

On September 12th, 2010 I laid my eyes on my future husband, Stephen Matthew Hull.

I happened to be on a friends facebook page checking out his new do and Stephen had just written on his wall.

He stood out to me.

So as any good facebook creeper would do, I clicked on his profile. He was literally the picture of perfection. A crazy blond haired blue eyed man that had personality oozing out of every picture I laid my eyes on.

I did something I never ever do.

I added him.

Someone I didn't know at all.

Friendship Request Pending.

The night went on and as I drove home I got a notification sent to my phone that he had added me!

I went to check out his profile, dying to know what he had next to "relationship" and "religion", only to see that he had already deleted me!

What the?!

So again, I did something out of my ordinary and I messaged him:

hey man..sorry for the random add. saw you write on my friends wall and i couldnt help but add you. buuut i see youve deleted me already baha oh well..have a good night.
ajs.

And so the conversation began and went until 3:55 a.m.

I text a friend the next day and said, "I don't mean to alarm you but, I found my future husband."

1 week later Stephen drove 6 hours to surprise me at my house.

As I walked out to greet him I thought to myself, "I am walking to meet my future husband for the first time right now."

And there he was.

The picture of perfection was now standing right in front of me!

I could of thrown up or peed my pants at this point...but I figured he might think that was weird so I kept my cool.

The night was perfect.

We had the most amazing talk on the top of a dirt mound overlooking the Crystal Lake quarry.

I was in love.

Later that night, on September 21, 2010, he asked me to be his girlfriend:

Stephen: I think I would really like it if you were my girlfriend.
Amanda: Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?
Stephen: No, I'm just making a statement.
Amanda: Oh, well, I would really like to be your girlfriend too.
Stephen: You would?!
Amanda: Yes duh!
*silence*
Stephen: Amanda, will you be my girlfriend?
Amanda: I would love to be your girlfriend.
Stephen: For real?! Like for real for real?!
Amanda: Yes!

Oh man...That man has made me laugh from day one.

We had waited for each other forever and we had both lost hope in the fact that that "perfect someone" was still out there.

God knew.

Fast forward through many visits back and forth and a couple tours.

December 10th, 2010.

We had just gotten home from a night out with a couple friends. I hadn't been feeling so hot that day and Stephen suggested that I take a pregnancy test.

I laughed...and then thought about it more.

So off we went to go purchase the infamous hot pink box.

"Why do they have to package it in such a bright color??" I thought to myself as I stood in line with the rest of Woodstock who apparently all had to go shopping at like 2 in the morning.

So we opted out of the line and went to Walgreens instead.

Now, to be honest, I have unfortunately taken a few other pregnancy tests in my day, but this one was different.

As I waited and watched I thought to myself how sad I would actually be if I wasn't pregnant. All of the previous ones were met with a prayer against that double line, but this time I wanted it.

And there it was.

I was so overwhelmed with joy...and shock.

I remember looking at myself in the mirror with one hand holding the test and the other covering my mouth in complete surprise.

The walk from the bathroom to my room seemed like miles.

As I entered I just said..."Babe..."

I shut the door and came around the corner of my room to an eager Stephen. He had such a big smile on his face.

"We're pregnant." (I said this about 50 million more times that night.)

Stephen replied "No way!" as he grabbed the test out of my hand.

My room filled with joy and nervous/excited laughter as we studied the test as if that second line was a mirage.

We prayed a lot that night.

A prayer filled with apologies and thankfulness.

The rest of that month was a blur.

We waited to tell our parents until after Christmas. We figured that time of year is stressful enough so we saved our big news for after.

Our parents could not have taken it any better.

The grace and mercy we were met with still blows my mind.

Stephen and I are truly blessed by the love and support we have from our families and close friends.

I am now 5 months pregnant.

The feeling is indescribable.

The love I have for this unborn baby girl is nothing I have ever felt before.

Suddenly getting my nails done and going tanning aren't as important as they once were.

My vocabulary is changing to a more pg rating to prepare for little ears.

The biggest change is in my heart.

I have had many talks with my Heavenly Father. Some good and some not so.

You see, the stress of having a baby is a lot to begin with but the stress of then losing my job with no real prospects is a bit much for my hormonal heart to handle.

The most recent conversation went a lot like this, "I'm sorry I'm so dumb."

With every new let down I had been questioning God and His plan.

I had forgotten how much He truly loves me.

How much He truly loves His beautiful creation that He has entrusted Stephen and I with.

I haven't been to church in a while.

You try going to church with a baby bump and no ring on your finger and see how comfortable you feel.

This truly is not a great reflection on my church family. Most of them have been amazing. It is my heart that is feeling the shame.

To the people who have greeted us and our baby with judgment we simply tell them something like this:

We know that what we did was sin. I have a growing baby bump to remind me of that and I do not need you to remind me. The joy we have about this new life is not to be seen as us dismissing the sin, it is simply the joy we have for the miracle that is growing whether you like it or not. And to be honest, we like it. We love it...We love her. So the next time you want to come at us with judgment you just think about what your baby bump would be.

You try living life with a shirt on that lists your biggest sin.

You see, it is all too easy for people who are not pregnant to point the finger because their sin is easy to hide.

Their sin isn't growing and protruding from their midsection.

Could you imagine walking around with a shirt on that says, "I watch porn." or "I talk about my friends behind their backs." or "I do drugs."

The list is endless.

So please, before you start judging think about your own "baby bump".

This is not to say that we expect everyone to be overjoyed at first. Obviously a little truth in love is always needed.

It is the truth without love that is not needed...by anyone.

Life can look very grim when I forget Who is in charge.

Thankfully I have a wonderful man in my life who reminds me very often Who in fact is taking care of us.

The blessings in my life outweigh the negatives by the thousands.

I am having a beautiful baby girl with the man that I am so madly in love with.

It doesn't get any better then that.

It seems silly to just tell him that I love him because it is so much more then those three words will ever describe.

God is so so good.

I have truly never been happier.

Completely broken...Completely content.

So that is our story in a nutshell. Stay posted for more baby updates and such.

August 20th, 2011 is sure to be a great day ; )

taking people watching to a whole new level

I found myself in what has become a familiar place recently.

Union Station.

On my drive in with one of my oldest friends a song came on the radio I had never heard before.

Due to our awesome and sickeningly consuming technology I was able to hold my phone up to the radio and boom, just like that I had the song uploaded, downloaded, side loaded…you name it. It was loaded onto my phone.

As I entered the business of Chicago and made my way with my obnoxiously heavy and over packed bag I was surrounded by more and more people. I made it to my gate, plopped myself down, and popped in my headphones.

I started in on one of my favorite things to do.

People watch.

The song continued to play in my head as I scanned the room.

I saw a group of Amish people eating McDonalds…I feel like they aren’t allowed to eat that stuff so I snapped a picture and uploaded it to my twitter which is simultaneously uploaded to my facebook.

Creepy?

Probably.

None the less I continued to people watch.

There was a group of older women all chit chatting and trying to find seats. As an older man gave up his seat to one of them I thought to myself, “well that was nice…” I made up in my head where these women could possibly be going all together and thought of my friends and I doing the same thing at their age.

I just don’t think the world is prepared for that.

The song was on repeat by this point, much like it is right now as I write this.

I kept scanning the room and all of the sudden there was a lump in my throat.

Then came some sort of liquid that welled up in my eyeball region.

(For those of you who don’t know me very well, I’m not a huge fan of crying. Well I never used to be but these days I tend to get super emotional about things that pertain to people.)

As the song seemed to get louder and louder in my ear, my brain was consumed with one thought and one thought only:

“I wonder how many people in this room don’t know that God loves them…”

I have never been so tempted to stand up and shout of His love more then I was at that moment.

But I didn’t.

I mean, I would look like a total crazy person.

But maybe that’s what this world needs…just a few more crazy people.

Crazy in love with the God of the Universe who just can’t stand to be silent any more.

As I continued on in my silence I boarded the train and continued to think of such things. How funny that my mind was so consumed with such a thought but I did nothing about it.

I feel a little silly, to be honest.

My life is much like that train station. I am surrounded by people that I don’t know if they know how much God really does love them.

I often invite people to church that I know will say no. I have a love/hate relationship with this new habit of mine.

I love knowing that I have at least tried but I hate their responses. Not because they are rude about it or anything like that but because of the lies Satan has been able to get them to believe.

I am haunted by so many of their reasons as to why they will not come. So much so that they make me want to keep asking more people just to see if everyone else feels the same as them.

I have one friend in specific that I invite every Sunday and every Wednesday.

He always says no.

He’s a classic hipster, loves him some denim on denim fashion, loves randomly tattooing his body, loves food more then anyone should, and he plays in a local band.

People ask me why I keep inviting him and here is what I have to keep telling others and myself:

He’ll say yes one of these times.

This past Saturday I sent him the usually, “get yo ass to charrch” text and his response is still ringing in my ear.

“Not after what I’m about to do tonight…I’m gonna be too dirty for church.”

Too dirty?

What on earth?!

The church was made for and is filled to the brim with people who are seemingly “too dirty”. Why is it that we have somehow made the outside world feel just like that…outsiders.

My most recent interaction was with a 32 year old man child that tans at the salon I work at.

He is an 18 year old boy stuck in a 32 year old man’s body, he is an ex-con, works at a local restaurant, often found stumbling into the salon around noon still drunk from the night before, not ashamed to express his opinion, and the newest fact I have gathered from him is that he is a white supremacist.

I have a very sarcastic but honest relationship with him. My response to him after finding out he has “white power” tattooed on his back was this:

“Someone didn’t love you enough when you were little did they? I feel like you need a hug…and that you should prolly come to church with me.”

He thinks the church walls will come crumbling down if he were to come to church.

He thinks he is too dirty.

This past Wednesday at the all worship night Pastor Bill Hybels asked us to write down people we are thankful for.

Those three are on my list.

You see without people like that in my life I fear I would forget what I am called to do.

Love.

Love as God loves.

You see, God loves you right where you’re at. Not for whom you have been or for whom you will end up being, but for who you are right now.

In all your “dirtiness” God loves you.

The song that I have listened to probably a million times by now is the song “what love really means” by JJ. Heller.

The song talks about three different characters who are longing for love.

My favorite part is towards the end of the song when God shows up in a whisper, if you will, and this is his response to the outcry from the broken,

Then he heard a voice somewhere deep inside
And it said
"I know you've murdered and I know you've lied
I have watched you suffer all of your life
And now that you'll listen, I'll tell you that I..."

I will love you for you
Not for what you have done or what you will become
I will love you for you
I will give you the love
The love that you never knew

We so often dwell on what we have done, or haven’t done in some cases, that we are missing out on the love that God is so desperately trying to give us.

Stop beating yourself up.

Stop beating others up.

Stop the beating and let the healing begin.

Psalm 103: 8-12

The Lord is compassionate and merciful, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love. 9He will not constantly accuse us, nor remain angry forever. 10He does not punish us for all our sins; He does not deal harshly with us, as we deserve. 11For His unfailing love toward those who fear him is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth. 12He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.

Let go of your sins.

Let go of those who have sinned against you.

The fact of the matter is we are only human. We will sin again…and again…and again.

But what you can not do is keep listening to the lies that Satan will attack you with. For if we keep listening to him the blasting stereo of truth will slowly become a fuzzy crackling radio broadcast that we are sure to turn off. And when we turn that off we are telling the rest of the world that the lies satan is telling them are true and they simply are not.

The world needs love now more then ever. For the past is just that and our future is not guaranteed.

So love today as God has loved us from the beginning all the way to eternity.

Love as God loves.

why just live when you could be alive?

I've been wanting to write a new blog for a while now, just haven't really felt it.

You know?

It.

That feeling of urgency.

Like, "If I don't get this out in words right now, I'll explode."

Urgency to grab any sort of writing utensil.

Crayon, pen, etchasketch!

Anything to get this out and to remember this feeling or thought.

When the Spirit moves I just can't help but feel restless until I finish what I've been called to start.

The spirit moved through a text message I received from a new friend today at 3:44 p.m.

As I read the text I immediately assumed it was going to be a joke. It started like this:

"This is a deep and philosophical question..."

If you knew my friends you would understand why I assumed the text would end with a joke, but quite the opposite occurred.

It ended with a question I have never been asked before. It's ending brought on the beginning of the "it" feeling.

The ending was this:

"What makes you feel alive?"

.......huh.

Well that's not what I was expecting.

side note: for those of you who knew my brother Ryan this question made me whip out a classic Ryan face. The one that almost looks like a frown but it's really just his "thoughtful" face.

Sorry. I digress.

So as I drove into the city with Brittany I thought about what really makes me feel alive, and this is what I came up with.

(I hope this answers your question, Gagasian. Thank you for letting me share a little bit of my heart with you and thank you for challenging me as a writer and a woman of God.)

The first memory that popped into my head was a recent one actually.

This summer, as some of you know, I went through a season of brokenness.

I found myself single, jobless, cell phoneless, carless, etc.

I was struggling with many insecurities.

I was broken.

I was learning how to fall more in love with God and less in love with my own dreams.

Now before I go on there is one thing you need to know about me.

A FAF, if you will (Fun Amanda Fact).

The way I feel loved the most is through physical touch.

Being single doesn't really jive with that.

In the past, seasons of singleness have brought about very unhealthy thoughts that have lead me to extremely unhealthy actions.

I wanted this season to be different.

I needed to be different.

I needed to renew my mind before I ended up in the same spot I always ended up.

Alone and empty.

Now did I mess up during this renewal process?

Absolutely.

But God's grace is as pure as it was in the beginning so I made it out alive.

Being broken up with blows but what blew more was the quintessential Christian response.

"Just take this time to fall more in love with Jesus."

I cant even tell you how annoying that line is...or was.

Telling someone whose #1 love language is physical touch, to fall more in love with something that is seemingly non existent in the physical realm would be like telling a blind person to look more closely at a masterpiece and then they would understand it better.

Frustration.

Frustration until I allowed God to renew my mind thus renewing my heart.

Okay back to the summer.

It was a nice day out. Perfect for a nice hot and sweaty summer run.

I did the same thing I did every morning. I woke to my Bible clutched in my right hand and my chest clutched in my left. I read a few passages, rolled out of bed into my workout clothes and right into the kitchen for my "morning" coke. (coca-cola ;) and continued to the computer to do my morning creeping.

I was struggling with the thought of how to receive and give physical touch to my Heavenly Father.

For whatever reason I looked out my living room window at that moment.

In the midst of this bright sunny summer day it was raining.

I got up from my chair and looked out the window to make sure my eyes weren't fooling me.

What started as a drizzle became a downpour in the 3 steps it took me to make it to the window.

I sat back down at the computer. I felt this urgency building inside of me to go outside.

I love rain. I always have.

But as I made my way to the front door I somehow knew this rain would be different.

This wasn't just any rain.

As the drops began to soak my clothes and melt away on my skin I knew that I had finally found what I had been searching for.

Physical touch.

Not just any kind of physical touch.

The most pure form of physical touch I have ever experienced coming to me straight from my Heavenly Father Himself.

I remember breaking out in mine and my brother's favorite hymn.

Amazing Grace.

(This is the beauty of living in the country, you can stand out in the rain fully clothed and sing and no one looks at you like you're crazy.)

And in that moment I knew I was no longer just living, I was alive.

You shattered my darkness.
Washed away my blindness.
Now I'm breathing in and breathing out.
I'm alive again.
- Matt Maher

In the wind and in the rain, He is there. When I crunch a fall leaf under my feet, He is there. He is there in every snowflake and He is there in every crack of thunder, reminding me that He is madly in love with me.

And that, my friends, makes me feel alive.

This just in: rear view mirrors are totally unnecessary. who knew?

As I drove home from the city last night I found myself getting extremely distracted by what was in my rear view mirror. When I came back to the reality that I was still moving forward at a steady pace (I may or may not have been speeding) the thought occurred to me that this is much like life.

So often I find myself haunted by what is in my past. I find myself staring at it so much so that I completely forget about the present.

I forget that I am still moving forward.

Sometimes I focus so much on my past because I don't want to go back to the way I was that I miss countless opportunities in my present.

Or worse..my past becomes my present...again.

I am sure I am not alone in this vicious cycle.

And if I am..well..then you all need to stop lying to yourselves and join me in this fight (or more surrender) against the past.

Growing up in a Christian home and going to Sunday school and youth group my whole life, and not to mention my k-12 Christian education, I could not help but think about the story of Lot..well, more of Lot's wife.

Her human nature took over and killed her.

For those of you who don't know this story allow me to sum it up for you.

Genesis 19

Lot and his family (wife and 2 daughters) lived in a town called Sodom.
Sodom, along with the neighboring community of Gomorrah, were wicked.
The level of wickedness, I can not comprehend.
God sends two angels to destroy everything...yes, everything.
Lot and his family are spared if they run...and more importantly if they do not look back.
Wife looks back...dead.

I urge you to actually go read this passage for waaaaay more details that I will most likely discuss in my next blog. It's a fairly short chapter so please please go read it.

Genesis 19:17b (Angels speaking to Lot and his family.)

"Flee for your lives! Don't look back, and don't stop anywhere in the plain! Flee to the mountains or you will be swept away!"

What I find so interesting about this urgent command from the angels is the "don't stop anywhere in the plain!" part.

The human (annoying) nature in me goes, "but why?"

I'm far enough away aren't I? I'm not in the city any more.

I'm not doing drugs any more but I hang out with my friends who still do. So what if I take a couple hits?

I'm not having sex with my boyfriend any more but we mess around still because, well, we're "in love".

I'm not getting drunk any more but I can't just order coke..my friends will make fun of me.

I'm not going to strip clubs any more but I look at porn from time to time..I'm horny and no one has to know.

We constantly put ourselves out on this tight rope of temptation because we have somehow convinced ourselves that we will not fall into the pit hole of sin again.

You will fall.

Every time.

We also convince ourselves that there are certain sins that are worse then others.

When I (often) find myself debating back and fourth between the devil on my shoulder and the Holy Spirit in my heart, I find myself asking one question;

"Who will my decision bring happiness to?"

The thought of disappointing God is troubling enough but thinking that I have somehow made satan happy makes me sick.

When I think about how many times I have let satan think he is winning it makes me that more bold in my love for Jesus.

In my research in the story of Lot I happened upon a verse in Luke. I am sure most of you have heard Luke 17:33,

"Whoever tries to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it."

But the verse that has made the biggest impact on me today is the verse directly before it, Luke 17:32..it's just three simple words.

Remember
Lot's
Wife
!

Stop looking in your rear view mirror (this is clearly metaphorical..please use your actual rear view mirror..it saves lives. :)

Let go of the pain and regret from your past that is paralyzing you to the point where you are just going through the motions in the present.

Remember the lessons from your past mistakes but stop reliving everything you could of done differently.

Move on.

Let it go.

Live in the present and look forward to the future God so desperately wants for you.

Stop missing out on what God needs you for today because you are so stuck on the missed opportunities in your past. For your present will soon be your past so stop adding to the list of regrets.

"Let God plunder the enemy by bringing so much good from the bad, satan with regret ever taking us to the wilderness of sin. What divine vengeance occurs when we let God use our past failures to humble us, refine us, and use us all the more effectively."
- Beth Moore.

God, if I am in Your way, move me..

So this past Sunday night I strolled on down to hipster town USA (wicker park) to check out a band called "Fun" (seriously, that's their name and it's true)

On the ride down with two of the coolest people on the planet, Eric; the genius that he is; popped in the new Norma Jean CD...so good.

You see I was having one of those days. You know the ones, where the scariest of thoughts seem to creep so far into your brain that it makes your heart hurt. The ones that take an immense amount of prayer and truth to end what seems like a never ending panic attack.

Earlier that day I was having lunch at my second family's home. Britt and I got on the topic of people from our old youth group and we started to discuss where everyone was and what they were doing.

They all seem to be married.

They all seem to be put together.

This is when the thoughts started to creep into my head.

I was supposed to be married by now. I was supposed to be one of the first and now I am seemingly going to be one of the last. I was supposed to be all settled into an amazing life that would make me seem all put together as well.

But here I am at age 23 (almost 24) living with my Dad, unemployed (ish), no car, debt...single.

I am exactly where God wants me..no, needs me, to be.

When E&B invited me down to the city I was a little reluctant. I was just not in the mood to be in an all couples situation but Britt assured me that it wasn't going to be like that. She is super good at helping me out of my slumps. It's always nice to have a 2 decade old friend who knows exactly what I need in order to get back to the truth.

Fast forward to us trying to find parking remotely close to where we needed to be in the city.

We finally found one because Britt noticed a guy pulling out of his cramped spot, so we took it. Eric and I hopped out to direct Britt into the tight squeeze.

She parked it like a champ. We hid our valuables. Locked up. And we started to walk.

We went the wrong way..of course. So we had to turn around and walk passed the car again.

There was a guy walking passed the car as we came upon it so Britt, being the funny girl she is, hit the lock button a couple more times to scare the innocent pedestrian.

We laughed.

The walk to the hipster party wasn't that bad. Britt and I were already complaining of knee problems. Eric had found some free garbage. The walk was a success.

And then we turned onto the street full of hipsters and it hit me. This is what I prayed,

"God, You need to show up tonight."

I have no idea where it came from. But there I was in the middle of a hot sticky hipster nation praying for God to show up. And then this prayer came out,

"God, if I am in Your way, move me. I don't want to stop what You're going to do tonight."

As we weaved our way through the crowd to find Fun (haha the band.) I just continued with my simple prayer asking (sometimes it felt like i was telling more then asking) God to show up.

Needless to say I kept my eyes pealed for anything God might need me to see that night.

As I watched the crowd it struck me that it could be possible that none of them knew that God loves them. I was overwhelmed with the idea that someone that night might want to take their own life because they felt like no one loves them.

"God, You need to show up tonight."

The show ended and the cracked out crowd dispersed.

We strolled on over with some friends to get some food and we parked our tushes on the curb to eat and talk. (and I continued to people watch.)

Chicago is full of the most interesting people..I love it.

I made a couple new friends that night so to me it was a success.

We finished up and started our stroll back to the car.

Eric asked us if we wanted to take the long safer way or the short sketchier way. I told him I trusted his ninja skills and we continued down the road less traveled. Britt started to tell us stories about when she lived in the city she would walk in the middle of the street at night because that way people in the houses couldn't just grab her. To which I responded, "Yes, because people in big creepy vans can't reach you in the middle of the street."

We had a good laugh about that one and then we were back at the car.

Britt unlocked the car and hopped in to back out. Eric and I stayed outside, joking about something immature I'm sure, to help Britt not hit the other cars.

And then it happened.

"Babe, your GPS is gone..." Britt reluctantly said from inside the car.

Our joking came to a screeching halt as the reality kicked in that her car had been broken into.

I whipped open the back door and for some reason my new boots were my first thought...

They were there! Phew!

And then my eyes slowly turned toward the spot I had hidden my purse. I lifted up the pile of clothes I had buried it under.

Gone.

I am sure that at this point I let out a few choice words.

My soc card was my first thought.

Yes I knowwww it's not smart to carry that sucker on you. Anyone who finds out that I carry it on me always gives me the lecture on it. I joke about it all the time saying that anyone is more then welcome to steel my identity. "Pay off my debt while you're at it sucker!" I would jokingly reply.

Oh irony.

"Oh phew!!"

I turned to see Eric holding high the Norma Jean CD.

It was just the comedic relief we needed. I started to laugh uncontrollably. You know the "laugh to keep from crying" laugh.

As I dialed 911 I noticed a man on the corner who was half watching us. I have no clue where he came from. I started to look to see if any of those police cameras were on the corners...

None.

The man asked if we were okay and I had a short conversation with him. He pointed out that there was a camera on the side of the building.

Pointed directly at Britt's car.

I continued to talk to the 911 dispatcher who was zero help and the man was gone.

While on hold thoughts of what was in my purse started popping into my head and it hit me..

My Bible.

More choice words started to flow.

Take my soc but don't take my Bible!

So after being patched through twice to a recording system via the 911 dispatcher, who I lovingly referred to as a dumbass not realizing she was still on the line (whoops) and Britt asking random people if they knew the owner to the building with the camera we decided to just get in the car and leave.

As I started to get in to Britt's car I heard someone say, "There's a police car, do you want me to flag him down?"

I looked to see that same man again. From no where he showed up exactly when we needed him..curious.

The police stopped and to our surprise we got the nicest police officers everrrr.

While filing the report we continued to try and find silver lining after silver lining. If I was a pessimist I don't even know what I would do with myself.

"Yes! They didn't take my tootsie pops!!" Eric exclaimed from the passenger side door.

"Well the good news is they didn't steel our sense of humor!" I replied.

I could go on and on about the many jokes that have come out from this night. While filing a police report I laughed so hard I cried.

I am sure I looked like a little lost puppy dog as I described what my Bible looked like to the seemingly confused police officer.

"Are you being serious?" He asked.

While driving home and still laughing about the ridiculousness it hit me.

Is this what God was preparing me for tonight?

The fact that BOTH of my purses, one carrying my Bible and the other carrying my copy of Crazy Love, got yoinked is a bit odd to me. Not to mention that Britt's purse, which is much nicer then both of mine combined, was untouched. (among everything else Britt didn't get stolen haha.)

I shared my thoughts with the two goobers in the front to which Eric replied, "Hey leave me out of this!" (sorry your GPS got stolen in order to further the kingdom, E.)

As I look back on this entire day I am struck with many feelings. When the feeling of overwhelming disappointment about my Bible being stolen starts to creep into my brain I am at peace when I remember Who is in control.

God knew that my purse would be stolen that night. He knows and loves the thieves (my guess is 2 people...Eric and I have our theories.) right where they are at.

I do not know if I will ever hear the outcome of this section of God's story. I do not know if my chapter will ever intersect again with the person who took my purse. But what I do know is that God needed me to let go of my purse that night. I don't know why and that's okay.

That is why He is God and I am not.

"Never underestimate my Jesus. You're telling me that there's no hope. I'm telling you, you're wrong."
-RK

My God works in mysterious, and many times, inconvenient ways. Who am I to get in His way?


"God, if I am in Your way, move me. I don't want to stop what You're going to do tonight."

If the Son has set me free, then why do I keep acting like a captive?

So I was reminded by my mom yesterday that it has been a year since I moved back home from cali. I have had some what of a writers block recently..not so much not knowing what to write about or not having the words, I just haven't "felt it". Every time I would sit down and start writing it just felt forced and I don't like that. I wanna be moved to write and realizing its been a year has moved me.

Chances are many people are not going to like what I am about to write. You will be confused. Some of you will not understand because, well, my struggles are not your struggles. And that's okay.

I could not help but think about what I have done, or haven't done, this past year.

You see a year ago I came home to a place that wasn't really home any more. I came home to feelings and people that I did not want to have to deal with. I came home to not wanting to go out in public because I didn't want to run into anyone. I came home to people I had lied to. I came home to people who had turned their backs on me. I came home to judgment. I came home to no longer the ocean as my backyard but a backyard filled with shameful memories.

So you might be wondering why I even came home. Well truth is there was really only one person who could get me to move back to the midwest away from my beloved ocean and the community I grew to love in LBC.

Grandma.

To say that my Grandma is the rock of our family is a gross understatement. I was getting word that her health was a little shaky so I came home.

You see I have learned that life is short the painful way. I have been filled with regret thinking about all of the time I didn't spend with people. People I would of died for. People that are no longer here. I don't want that to happen with my Grandma (not that you're going any where any time soon woman!!)

So here I sit one year later. three boyfriends later. two jobs later. four homes later. one hospital stay later. four cell phone numbers later. five plus hair styles later. two tattoos later. one million tears later.

So here I sit.

One.
Year.
Later.

To say that I have somewhat wasted the past two years is nothing less then the truth. Every time I make headway I am hit by the train of temptation. You see about two years ago satan finally figured out my weakness.

Men.

These past two years I have done things I never thought I would do. I have said "yes" to things that should of never even been a thought in my brain. I have gone on dates I never wanted to go on. I have had sex with people I never thought I would even kiss. I have had sex with a man who I thought was "the one". I have said "no" to God more times then I would ever want to count.

I have been in complete denial of the fact that satan does in fact know me.
I have been in denial about the joy that I bring him on a daily basis.
I have been in denial that he is roaming this earth looking to seek and destroy.
I have been in denial about my own weakness.

So much of my life I have been trained to remember things I know about God but what I really need to be remembering at this point is what I know about satan.

So now what?

Well the way I see it, I have two options. I can continue to ignore what I know to be true about satan or I can use what I know and go to battle.

This is, after all, my life I am fighting for.

If you really know me you know that I am a 7. I am a dreamer not a planner. I have so many big dreams that I don't know how any of them are possible. I have spent many nights asking God to throw me a bone. But what I have realized recently is that my request is completely ridiculous.

What am I doing in my life that would ever make God want to bless me. Not that He will only bless those who are "perfect" or anything along those lines. But seriously...if I am not even remotely close to doing the things I know God wants me to be doing why do I think that any of my dreams will ever come true?! Because, let's be real, I will never be able to make my dreams happen on my own.

Trust me.

I have tried.

And failed.

Multiple times.

Father forgive me for being a dumb sheep.

You see I need to let God prepare me for the day my (dream) life starts. I need to prepare my heart for the life I so desperately yearn to have. I need to be making intentional decisions and I need to stop intentionally disobeying God.

If the Son has set me free, then why do I keep acting like a captive?

"The moment we admitted our guilt and accepted our pardon, the prison doors were opened. And as much as satan wishes he held the keys to lock them back again, he doesn't. All he can do is try to keep us seated in an unlocked prison cell." - Beth Moore

So here I walk, two years later, out of my prison cell.