Restless Dreams

January 6th, 2018. Newark, NJ. 8:28 p.m.

It’s a whopping ten degrees here in the tri-state area, but the wind chill makes it feel like negative ten. I went outside once today and that was to get food for my hibernation. Out of nine days, today is my only day off. I had planned on being responsible with my time by calling my car insurance company, washing clothes, finding a way to lighten my suitcase, and most importantly, WRITING! Instead, I made a big breakfast, talked on the phone, and slept. Another perfectly good day wasted.

I woke up from my nap around 5:30 p.m. to a room bathed in darkness. I hate daylight savings when it steals the sun before the day is gone. Convinced that productivity for the day was hopeless, I phoned my best friend. “Why am I so lazy?” I chided aloud to her, as I rolled out of bed.

I usually blame fatigue for my inactivity, but isn’t everyone tired? How are other people staying productive? God knows I love to write, but sometimes it requires more energy than I have to give. My writing is sacred to me. Even after having this blog for over a year, it still takes courage to publish every post. It matters to me whether people think my writing is good or not. I do my best to deliver worthy material by trying to create the optimal environment to release my thoughts. But that’s not always possible. The perfect time or place is an illusion. If I believe otherwise, I’ll be waiting forever. I have to find my place in the chaos. We all do.

Part of my lack of consistent writing is legitimate physical exhaustion due to poor health choices and a crazy work schedule. However, the other side has to do with mindset. I burden my craft with the need to be flawless. If I don’t feel that my writing will be impeccable, I don’t bother. But creativity is like a child and requires much tending to and plenty of patience. A child who has just learned the alphabet is not expected to form coherent sentences. Yet they are encouraged to practice until they are able to sound out words and carry short conversations. I imagine that if children were (and many are) forced to perform above their ability through abuse, they would shut down and become inactive altogether.

If my writing is my baby, I’m afraid I’ve been a bit of an abusive mother. Or I’m just making this all up to validate my unadulterated laziness. I’m choosing to believe the former. Either way, we commonly make the mistake of pampering the dream and neglecting the process. There is no state of perfection, only constant progression. We are evolutionary beings and so are the things that we create. Inventions don’t just poof into existence when they’re thought of. They have to be put together, tested by trial and error, and developed. Every day is an opportunity to learn something new and see a piece of the world we didn’t behold yesterday.

We must give our passions room to breathe. If we suffocate our dreams with the pressures of measuring up, we will always feel unworthy and unfulfilled. There are people who have met their goals and still have a void because they spent too much time nurturing the dream and resenting the journey. Empty success is not the goal.

A year from now, I want to be able to look at my writing and be proud of my improvement. That will only come through relentless effort and caring enough about my craft to not let it fall by the wayside out of fear of what people might say. I have to decide what’s more important: what people think or giving them something to think about?

We each have a gift. Don’t tire it out by placing unrealistic demands on it. Treat it like a flower seed: plant it in rich soil, give it rain and let it bask in the sun. It may not be visible right away, but with consistent care, it will break through the soil.

Remember, a seed can’t become a flower without nourishment. Feed your dream.

 

 

 

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Happy New Year…I Guess

I’ve been writing this post for at least a week in my head, ruminating on what the heck happened in 2017. After college, the years become a bit of a blur. If it isn’t a death, a marriage, a milestone, or a child, I most likely won’t remember it happening. In these precarious times, I’m just glad to have survived another year. I swear, I’m not this cynical in real life. Personally, I had a pretty decent year, but generally speaking, the good times are beginning to feel like a game of Where’s Waldo.

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I wanted to be the cool hip person who didn’t make any new years resolutions because I don’t need the hand of a clock deciding when it’s okay for me to change my mind. Blah, blah, blah. It sounded great, but as the days dwindled to hours and new years eve inched closer, I couldn’t help but have some angst about assessing the past year. And because I’m a loser, I didn’t have a party dress to shop for, an event to attend, or even the empty company of alcohol to preoccupy my thoughts. I was home alone.

Have I changed? Have I grown? Did I accomplish the things I said I would?  Did I even bother setting goals? 

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(Pretend the year says 2017. I couldn’t bear to part with this gif. I tried)

As expected, the week of New Years delivered much remembering and renewing on social media: all the things that had happened in 2017 and all the things people hope to happen in 2018. Yet, I was disappointed at seeing so many individuals focused on making copious amounts of money and eager for material success. I’m all for being ambitious and setting goals, but if your main goal in 2018 (or ever) is to be filthy rich, money is the least of your worries.

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Regardless of how superficial some people were being on my Instagram feed, my cyber buddies had unknowingly peer pressured me into taking stock of my life. What happened in 2017 and how can I improve in 2018?

I started 2017 off wanting to feed all of my attention into my writing and building my blog community. I tried to be consistent but again and again, I failed. Somewhere in between the bruises to my ego, I felt called to enter into a period of pause. It was time for a realignment. I know that my writing is a gift from God, but I had begun to idolize it. I thought about it even when I wasn’t doing it, which was usually the case. I was so overwhelmed with disappointment in myself, that I wasn’t leaving any room for God’s input. That pause became the theme of my year. I stopped with the blog schedules and the commitments to writing and redirected my energy to spending time with God. I read a book called, “Unseen” by Sara Hagerty and it was a total game changer for how I viewed my identity in God. I began to study (not just read) his word, I intentionally made time to pray and talk to God throughout the day, and I shared my concerns and frustrations with him. As I result, I’m more grounded in my identity in Christ. I understand now that my writing is a partnership with God, not something I have to cultivate on my own.

My word for 2018 is continue. It’s not about starting something new, but continuing to dig myself even deeper into God and his will for my life.

All that to say, I made two New Year’s resolutions.

  1. Get out of God’s way in my life.
  2. Take more risks.

I have a habit of confining God to the limitations I place on myself. I know that on my own I can do little, but through Christ, I can do much, but just to make sure, I like to set up the scene for him to work his magic. A little insurance never hurt nobody, right?

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Too often, I feel the need to control how and when God’s promises will manifest in my life.This is where my two resolutions intersect: because I think it’s my responsibility to create the perfect opportunity for God’s will to take place, I do my very best to not color my decisions outside the lines. I don’t take a lot of risks, which can lead to a really dull existence. Moreover, presuming how God will show up and making decisions expressly off of that idea is a sure way to miss a blessing. I want to live my life, not unintentionally, but with God’s Romans 8: 28 promise in my heart.

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Besides, who am I to box God’s plans into 365 days?

A thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night.

Psalms 90:4

I don’t know all of God’s plans for my life, but I know that Ephesians 3:20 says God is able to do above and beyond what I desire. I trust that. Do I have goals and things I’d like to happen in 2018? Of course! But even if my plans don’t come into fruition this year, God will still be God. He won’t look at me as being unsuccessful or a failure, it will simply mean, there’s more. I know that what God has for me is mine. As long as I continue to seek him above all else, his plan for my life will far exceed anything I can imagine or create for myself! In his perfect timing.

I pray that we don’t become so fixated on our goals that we neglect to establish a connection with the way maker.

Happy New Year!

 

After the Pain

From hurricanes to earthquakes, and now the threat of a volcanic eruption in Indonesia, the past few months have been rough. When I look at the obliteration of islands, the flooded and powerless cities, and the debris of buildings that once stood tall, I can’t help but think of humanity: we too are broken, without light, and flooded with confusion. The physical destruction surrounding us is a reflection of the festering wounds erupting within us. It’s as though everything has come to a head all at once.

The most pressing concern is figuring out how to move forward- physically and emotionally- after the pain. The obvious answer is for us to bind together and restore productivity to the affected areas. Donating food and supplies, sending money, and volunteering are just a few ways we can each help aid the restoration process.

Yet, I wonder if there isn’t a less apparent answer buried beneath the pain and rubble of these disasters. After hurricane Irma struck The Virgin Islands, I reached out to a close friend of mine from St. Thomas. My heart broke at her distress. I’ve never been good at having the right words for people’s pain, but this time was different. Although my heart ached for her suffering, I felt compelled to offer encouragement. Hope in the face of tragedy isn’t easy but it is necessary.

The irony was that the day I texted her happened to be September 7th. It marked three years since my brother had passed. As I wrote her, I thought back to that day. I’ve yet to feel as hopeless as I did in that moment of my life. Everything was falling apart before me and I felt powerless to stop it. Those days were dark, but in retrospect, I realize that it took a storm destroying my life for me to allow God to restore it. As I poured out my sincerest words of hope to my friend, one word rose above the rest.

Rebuild.

Though it may seem difficult to see it as such, these disasters have given us an opportunity to rebuild structurally, spiritually, and sociologically. God’s grace is bigger than any storm and if we make the choice to walk this arduous journey in it, we will come out on the other side better than we were before. There’s a song I love by Bri Babineaux called, My Everything. The main chorus of the song says,

If I lost everything and didn’t have anything, and you were the only thing, I’d still have everything.

It’s what I pray for myself and for our world. In my few years on this earth, I’ve yet to find anything or anyone as sustaining as God. He has kept me in the midst of it all, the same way I know he can keep those of us affected by these natural disasters.

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Matthew 7:24-27 says:

24 “Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. 25 Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock. 26 But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn’t obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. 27 When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will collapse with a mighty crash.”

I’m not making light of the devastation that has taken place. I am in no way trying to dictate how people should feel. Quite frankly, I don’t know how I’d feel had a hurricane come and taken away my loved ones and security. I want to reassure us that though this may feel much like an end, it doesn’t have to be. It’s an opportunity for a new beginning. A chance to relocate our homes to God’s heart. If we lay a solid foundation of faith, love, and trust in God, our homes will never be destroyed again.

Even the thunder and the wind obey
At the command of my Father, Father
I set my feet upon Your mighty name
So let the rain fall harder, harder
So take my everything, my flesh and blood
I’ll lay me down on the altar, altar
I am forever covered in Your love
So let the rain fall hard

 

-I Am Yours by Lauren Daigle

In the same way that many are without lights and resources physically, we are without them spiritually. These disasters are a literal illustration of what plagues us spiritually and culturally. A wake-up call reminding us that we are not nearly as in control as we believe ourselves to be. We are in such a state of confusion and questioning, we don’t know what to believe. Our foundations are breaking under the pressure of worldly influence and we’re turning over all the wrong rocks to find happiness. So many things sound and feel right, look good and seem okay, but the problem is we have no foundation to test these beliefs.

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We’ve grown too accustomed to living in the dark. Now is our opportunity to plant ourselves on an unshakable foundation. Bad things will continue to happen, and there’s no guarantee that we can always prevent them. But if we put our faith in God, everything around us could crumble and we’d remain because we have been planted in the Lord.

 

 

 

Run Forrest, Run!

Before I had any business watching it, Forrest Gump became one of my favorite movies.  Although the content was too mature for my age, I always found Forrest easy to understand. He was simple. He made me feel better about my inability to comprehend why life was sometimes the way it was.

It came on television the other night, and even though I’ve seen it a hundred times, I couldn’t help watching it again. I came in at the scene where Jenny and Forrest had reunited in Greensboro. She stayed for a while, then- in true Jenny fashion- left unexpectedly. Heartbroken, Forrest did what Jenny had always taught him to do.

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Forrest ran for, “3 years, 2 months, 14 days, and 16 hours.”

As I watched the nationwide coverage and acclaim of his run, something struck me:

How ridiculous it was that a throng of people followed a man cross country on a run that had no clear intention or path. Reporters probed Forrest for answers as to what his run signified: world peace, women’s rights, the environment, animals, or nuclear arms?

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Though Forrest’s run lacked a profound why, people were inspired by his uninhibited and audacious spirit. Supporting someone with an unknown cause can be a wonderfully dangerous inspiration. Seeing individuals take extreme measures to better themselves gives others the courage to do the same. The problem arises when we rely too heavily on the journeys of others to fuel our own lives. When Forrest announced that his rove was over, his followers were distressed by the sudden decision. “Now what are we supposed to do?” one man called out.

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It’s beautiful to be motivated by the lives of others, but it’s not fair to invest everything we hope to be in the life of someone else. Yet, that’s exactly what those people did to Forrest, and it’s what we do to one another. We see what looks like happiness, wealth, or success in the lives of others and attempt to replicate their actions in hopes of biting off a piece for ourselves.

We follow blindly behind people and movements we know little about just to feel something that halfway resembles happy. The problem with this type of lifestyle is that it’s full of emptiness. Those people who followed Forrest on his run never came to know why he did it.

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Forrest’s journey was to run until his past was far enough behind him to move forward. It was for him to discover who he was in that iteration of himself.  What I love most about his passage was that it wasn’t until after Forrest returned home that he realized his why was indeed profound.

That’s exactly how life works at times. We don’t know why God allows us to go through certain hardships, but there’s always a reason. One that is exclusive to your journey, who you are and who you ultimately have the potential to be. Your why.  Yet, if we exhaust our lives trying to find ourselves on someone else’s path, it only leads to added unhappiness.

I know sometimes we just feel like running toward anything with a remote promise of happiness; anything that will take us away from where we are. I get it, but that’s when we have to be most vigilant because that’s when our spirits become clingy and susceptible to misplaced inspiration.

My goal isn’t to devalue the splendor of inspiration. On the contrary, my hope is to uphold it, to encourage us to apply it in a way that is beneficial to our lives.  It’s great to be heartened by someones actions and to even be encouraged to go a similar route. However, we shouldn’t base our decisions on what makes someone else happy.

You’re you and I’m me. What moves me may not drive you. What motivates you may not encourage me. We’re each on our own way, yet how wonderful it’d be for our journeys to cross paths. Maybe there’s something you can teach me. Perhaps there’s something I can give you. Maybe inspiration is a collision of two paths- or ten, or five million- meant to give hope, wisdom, and love so that another would be willing to war on against a world intent on their defeat.

The Secret to Staying Young

 

Let’s start this off with a confession:

I use anti aging cream. Don’t worry, it’s the cheap stuff- for now. But still, is that bad? I mean, I am just three years away from thirty. Besides, I’m improving my adulting skills by being more proactive. I spend most of my time on airplanes where the air is dry and the oxygen is thin. It’s my responsibility to protect my skin from shriveling up like a raisin, right?

Alright, that was about 40% true. The remaining 60% sadly, lies in complete vanity. I don’t want to get old. And if I must, I certainly don’t need the evidence of wrinkles to prove it.

Nowadays though, we see more people embracing and being proud of their age, which is the way it should be. Unfortunately, I’m not that wise.

I’m in line with everyone else trying to catch the first ship out to Never land. Botox, plastic surgery, hair plugs (do people still do that?), and younger partners are just a few of the extreme measures we take in an effort to retain our youth.

Let me make clear, I don’t personally engage in the aforementioned activities, but I can certainly understand how easy it would be to fall prey to these practices.

The truth is, we’re growing older with each setting sun and there’s no way to stop it. Our lack of crows feet and smooth skin can no more rescue us from what actually needs saving than a topical cream can kill cancer. The sickness is within.

Our exterior is just that: A shell that houses our most precious jewels. But if the treasure rots, what is there to protect? Our bodies become useless. Yet we choose to focus most of our upkeep on our physical selves. L’Oréal’s latest under eye night serum cannot treat a withered spirit.

Our spirits are as strong or tenuous as we make them. In order to build their strength, we must feed them that which will encourage growth and resilience. If fed junk, such as anger and guilt, they begin to eat away at themselves and become emaciated.

From the moment we enter this earth, life becomes a toilsome journey: loss, addiction, betrayal, and self-hate are only a few potential struggles we face. Under the pressure of such circumstances, weak spirits are likely to break.

Our physical age will inevitably increase, but there’s nothing more exquisite than a spirit unaffected by age. One who has seen its share of hardships yet remains unblemished in its faith.

I know it sounds impossible. It’s certainly not easy, but with conscious effort, a lot of practice, and of course God, it is achievable. I don’t have all the answers to maintaining a healthy, strong, and youthful spirit, however I do have a few tips to get you started.

Let it go.

Stop dwelling on people and circumstances you can’t change. It only stands to further frustrate you. If someone has wronged you and you’re still bitter about it, you’re punishing yourself for their error. I’m not suggesting that you excuse their behavior, instead I invite you to release them to God. Once you release them, you also free yourself from feeling like you have to exact penance on them.

Surround yourself with positive people.

The company you keep has a major influence on your outlook on life. Be intentional about the people you surround yourself with. Make sure your friends are adding positivity to your life and not encouraging negativity. The normal rigamarole of life is stressful enough, you need people to bring the joy out in you at all costs.

Don’t neglect the little things

It’s easy to overlook the simplest parts of life because other aspects are so overwhelmingly complex. But it’s important that we find a way to always recognize the little things in our lives that make us smile. Our sanity depends on it.

Keep the Faith

I could elaborate endlessly on the importance of remaining faithful, but instead I’ll leave you with a snippet of lyric from a song I love.

Hold on to hope if you got it
Don’t let it go for nobody
They say that dreaming is free
But I wouldn’t care what it cost me

Yellow means GO!

 

Now, be honest-

You’re driving and the light turns from green to yellow: what do you do?

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 Pedal to the metal baby!

When I have somewhere to be, I want to get there yesterday. You guys already know, I’m not taking home any awards for most patient person of the year. However, you’d be proud to know that I have improved. Somewhat. On the important stuff like marriage and solving the riddle that is my purpose in life, I’ve learned to ease off the gas and enjoy the pretty – and not so pretty – scenery. But as for waiting in long lines at the grocery store, continue to pray for me.

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What factors do you all think contribute to the constant haste of our culture?

For one, we are unremittedly fed the lie that we have to have it now. Whether it be a spouse, a child, a new car, or the latest iPhone, the idea of waiting has become unfathomable. We’ve been programmed to FOMO. For those of you not up with the times, FOMO is an acronym that means fear of missing out. It’s generally used when people are afraid of missing something at a social event or outing, but I think it’s also relevant in terms of stuff.  Either way, we’ve got it bad.

On the surface, this lie is simply a consumerism/marketing ploy by filthy rich companies trying to attain even more wealth by playing on the emotions of people in need. We’re being manipulated by a man made guarantee that more stuff will make us happy. Even though marketers fail on their promise again and again, we continue to buy the lies. When we look in the mirror, we see a version of ourselves plastered in all the things we thought we needed.

If you don’t remember anything else from this post, please remember this:

The only thing we need in this life has already been purchased. We just have to make the decision to accept Him. 

Okay, so we’ve dodged the yellow light, now what? We’re maybe two to three minutes ahead of those we left in our dust, but what have we actually gained in that time? It’s easy for us to feel like those few minutes make a huge difference, but in actuality they don’t.

“Your imaginary self is not your real self.”

My brother said this during a conversation we were having a few days ago and I literally had to write it down because, as simple a sentence as it is, it makes so much sense.

We create these euphorias in our minds that translate into reality as utter ridiculousness.

Like, Oh I gained two extra minutes to get to work by flying through the yellow light. Now I have time to get gas, drop that package off at the post office, and maybe get a blueberry donut from Dunkin’ (my favorite!). 

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. 

We all have this mental checklist of things we need to have accomplished by a certain time. As the days and years inch closer to that time frame, we set into panic mode, and quite frankly, start making some not-so-smart choices to fulfill those goals.

I’ll spare us the listing of those choices.

Now on the other side of those decisions, are we any happier? Is it the same euphoric dream we had cooked up in our fantasy driven heads?

I can answer from personal experience: not at all. I’m still digging myself out of the hole from a few bad decisions I rushed into because I thought I’d die waiting.

In retrospect, my life would be a lot easier now, had I slowed down at those yellow lights and allowed God to tell me when to go.

Timing is everything. And God, who is both the creator of time and us, surely knows when something is best for us and how to perfectly orchestrate it into our lives.  place it in our lives during the perfect season.

Impatience is human and I get it. Not knowing what will become of our lives is stressful and can cause us to make rash decisions just for the sake of feeling in control.

Fight that urge.

Pray and ask God for patience. Build your trust and faith in him by spending time getting to know him. When we truly come to know the character of God, we don’t have to doubt that his plan for our lives is the best version.

Recalculating

I’ve always viewed school as a necessity. Whether or not I liked it was never a factor, it was just something I knew I had to grit my teeth and do. Naturally inquisitive, the desire to learn and acquire knowledge has never been an issue for me. No, my problem is that I have trouble acclimating to structured learning settings. I remember being two semesters shy of earning my bachelor’s degree when I decided to mentally check out. Between being burnt out and having senioritis, I gave myself permission to stop caring. As a result, I stopped turning in assignments, showing up to class, and lost interest in my grades. Soon after, I was threatened with being placed on academic probation: they gave me one more chance to get my crap together.

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 I recall meeting with my academic advisor:

Her office was a neat little nook tucked away at the edge of the building. It was dark, save for a small lamp on her desk that dimmed the area just enough for me to see the knickknacks and stacks of papers that comfortably cluttered her desk. Despite being afraid of the reprimand I was about to receive, her office seemed to exude warmth. Almost like a refuge: Somewhere you go for safety and refueling, but only for a short while.

She asked me what was going on and why my grades had fallen. I of course, tried to make my lousy excuse sound as justifiable as possible. She listened quietly as she busied herself with paperwork. When I’d run out of words to fuel my explanation, she turned to me, sighed and said matter of factly, “Okay. You’ve checked out.”

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It was like she was a doctor diagnosing me with a common cold. She knew exactly where I was mentally and she understood how I had gotten there. She gave me no sympathy but there wasn’t a strong sense of reprimand either.

Her final words to me during that meeting were, “You need to find a way to check back in.”

I left the campus feeling much more fueled than I did going into the meeting. Our discussion had given me just enough charge to find my way back to my why. 

Two semesters later, I graduated.

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I find myself at a similar impasse. I checked out about a month ago. I knowingly and intentionally submerged myself into the mindset of a defeatist. I was beginning to feel like everything in life was just too hard, so I figured I’m done trying. I knew that it was a momentary phase, but I didn’t put up much of a fight against it. I became more frivolous with money than usual and I didn’t beat myself up about it. My spiritual upkeep was slacking. I missed almost two weeks of talking to you guys. Deep down, I knew better, but on the surface, I refused to allow myself to care. I just wanted to be. I wanted to do whatever I felt like doing without feeling bad or rehashing fifty times over, every move I made and every thought that even considered crossing my mind. Just for a second, I wanted to be completely human and not feel bad about it.

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Things are still a bit hazy but I’m on the back end of that phase. I think my final salute was my purchase at Victoria’s Secret today at the Las Vegas airport. And in my defense, their semi-annual sale is going on so it could be argued that it was a logical and reasonable purchase.

That liberation I was looking for is returning to its former glory of frustration. I’m back to beating myself up. I’ve made the same mistakes so many times I’m dizzy. I want new mistakes! I want to be able to reflect and say, I used to be that way, but it feels impossible. Like it’s some sort of cruel joke to even think we can actually overcome our problems or become better.

In this time of reflection, I’m trying to figure out my why, because I really don’t want to go down this dead end road a millionth time.

I remember exactly when the downward spiral began. It was the first time I’d missed a post since recommitting myself to the blog back in February. It was a big deal to me and in my mind, it proved that I could not be committed or driven enough to accomplish anything. It shouted and reverberated throughout my entire being that no matter my efforts, I will always circle right back around to who I’ve always been. And that’s when I said

Forget it then, I’ll just stop trying.

One mistake sucked me into a black hole of psychological abuse toward myself. It should not have been that catastrophic, but because it was, that tells me that there’s more. I don’t think I actually believe I can be different. I didn’t realize that truth until just now. Looking at the words staring back at me on the screen, I can’t deny it. Whenever I’m doing well: praying, reading my Bible, keeping up with my blog, making smart money choices,  I am proving to myself that I can change. And it feels good. until I mess up. Then it feels really bad.

I think maybe my mistake is that I don’t ask for God’s help often enough. For a long time, I went through this battle of understanding that I don’t have to prove myself to God. I could never make myself worthy of Him through deeds. Instead, it’s grace through His sacrifice that I fall on time and time again. I know that with absolute certainty and I live my life through that belief. But now I find myself trying to prove me to myself. As if life isn’t complicated enough. I only ask God to bless the outcomes of my goals, not the entire process. Like with my blog, I ask:

Dear God, I want to be dedicated to my blog, please help me.

There are smaller steps I need to be praying to God about concerning my dedication to the blog. For instance, if I know I have a busy week coming up and I’m not sure how I’m going to have time for the blog, I could pray and ask God to help me create time, give me the words to write and let them come effortlessly. That way, I’m being specific and I’m showing a constant need for God to help me in my endeavor. As opposed to praying for this colossal idea one time and expecting no hiccups.

Life is life and there will always be mistakes. But doing the wrong thing or making a mistake provides us with an opportunity to improve.


Reevaluate then Recalibrate.

Assess then Address.

I’m pretty much back on track, but I know I’ll eventually make another mistake. But the next time, I’m looking forward to it being an opportunity to improve and recalculate, not a self-bashing session.

I saw this commercial a few weeks ago and it stuck out to me. It’s a perfect ending to this piece.