New. Yes the pains are old, still healing; the trials still need to be faced. But there is new. New chances. New beginnings. New dreams. It has been a year (or 8) of trial after trial. It has been one painful moment after another, feeling like I’m treading water, barely keeping my head up. I’ve often felt like I am screaming for those around me to see that I’m hurt and drowning and instead of reaching out a helping hand I’ve had insults and lies thrown in my face… “You’re being dramatic”, “You need to just move on”, “You are just fine.” I don’t say this to play a victim or seek pity. And it has not been lacking in its little life raft moments and blessings. I look at every step of my story and even the hard times and painful moments brought growth and opened doors to the next step. We’ve had some very key characters play a role in our story. Last year our word of the year was closure. It was one that, at the beginning of the year I was not too excited about. I knew with closure there is often facing
New doesn’t intimidate me. Or scare me or cause me to question. I love New Year. I love clean lines and fresh beginnings. Blank calendar pages holding promises of opportunity. Empty “to do” lists meaning anything can happen and I’m not bound to commitments. But what happens when I “add new event” on iCal- Or, as I inevitably will, break a new year’s resolution? What happens when old habits win out against new attempts? When the new doesn’t feel very new anymore…. I went on an amazing adventure in 2013. An eleven month, eleven country mission trip. New was easy to find. New was easy to dream with and set goals with… and try to do better with… Then, I came home to the very opposite of new. I came home to the town I went to high school in, I moved into a bedroom with furniture from my childhood. I drive the same way to work every day. I started the new year with every intention of greatness, every hope of being different and the energy to fulfill every new resolution… It’s been two weeks- and new has been replaced with normal. Radical with rhythm. And the promises of
I hated 2014. I’m not talking about hate in the sense of “I hate when it rains” or “I hate when I get stuck in traffic” like I was annoyed by the past year. I mean I loathed 2014 with every fiber of being. As in when December 31st cam and I knew this year was coming to a close, I gave 2014 my middle finger and told it that I hope to never see it again. Yes, I hated 2014 that much. You see 2014 is what I like to call my Year of Tears. I think sometime around July I asked myself how it was possible that my tear ducts hadn’t imploded from all of the crying I had done. 2014 was the year I became a grown up. It was the year where I learned of my sexual abuse, faced days and even weeks apart from my husband, and where God stripped me of everything I thought made me who I was only to create a clean slate in my heart and start over. I saw a lot of my ugly this past year, and let me tell you, it was NOT fun. So yeah, I was really
It took a lot of technology to make this interview happen. We hope you enjoy it!
***ATENTION!!! Due to our lack of tech savvy…and the stupidity of the internets, this video is the same interview posted back to back. So once you get to the end of the first interview, stop watching!!! Man…we promise to get smarter in 2015 ***
**I apologize for the poor video quality. Ahhhh Iphones.**
Please give grace as there were many technical difficulties trying to do this video, resulting in me being very flustered and scattered. It fits the theme of “wanting to change things about myself that God created”… [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YNclpuv0pkw&w=560&h=315]
I’ve read it over ten times. Day five. This post in my devotional book is one I go back to. One that no matter how many times I’ve read it, it somehow always brings me to tears. It’s a message my soul needs repeated. It’s a message I feel you need to hear. So I’m sharing it with you today. Day five. My breath of grace. My hope for today. I hope you are blessed. DAY 5: CURED AND CLEAN Taken by: Comforts From the Cross (by: Elyse Fitzpatrick) “His disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’” MARK 5 : 3 1 “Excluded. Unclean. Defiled. For twelve desperate years she had struggled against her body. Blood poured from her, and that blood not only brought about personal distress but also made her a societal outcast. If she was a married woman, she would have been unable to have sexual relations with her husband. Even if she was precious to him, he could not take her into his arms. Married or single, she was excluded from participation in normal family life. If she had children, she was excluded from participation