Sunday, May 29, 2016

Even When I Cannot See

This morning our pastor started a three week sermon series on the armor of God and spiritual warfare. As usual, it was exactly what I needed to hear this morning and over the course of the next two weeks.

I think sometimes when Christians talk about spiritual warfare, we think of being pulled into obvious temptations such as an addiction to drugs, or alcohol, or pornography. Maybe we think about being tempted to skip church or our personal Bible study. All of those are very real spiritual warfare battles, and Satan tends to use something seemingly small like skipping church just this once, or just one drink when you know it's never just one, to develop a foothold that gradually leads to more and more. 

For me currently, it's something completely different. The temptation has been to take the easier route; to step out of God's will and do what the world and myself knows will be easier.

I believe I'm probably in good company in that temptation. How many times do we take a step of faith to follow where He leads only to have another person or our own selves says "You do know this is going to be hard, right?" or "Are you sure you want to do this? Look at all of these obstacles"? Many times, it's fellow believers who are the first to offer a laundry list of excuses of why you shouldn't do something or all of the reasons it could be hard and every single thing that may go wrong. Sometimes your own words are twisted, or at times, God's words are twisted to provide proof of why you can't or shouldn't do something.

Bro. Danny touched on the consequences this morning of choosing any other path over God's will. When we think of stereotypical temptations I think that the reality of those devastating consequences is obvious and we can readily agree. But what if the temptation is to back down from something that God has clearly told you to stand your ground on? What if the temptation is to remain silent when God calls you to speak up? 

It would seem that there are no devastating consequences and that instead, things will go much easier for you. Short term, that's likely true. But here's what we have to remember as Christians: we only see a small portion of the story. We can barely see the next page of our book, much less three chapters ahead, and even the next page that we think we see is often subject to change in an instant. God sees your whole story. 

God never said that He would call you to an easy path. In fact, He tells us quite the opposite. He reminds us that in this world we will have trouble, but take heart because He has overcome the world (John 16:33). 

For me specifically, there have been moments since we started the adoption process where it's been tempting to walk away and throw in the towel knowing the struggles and obstacles that likely lie ahead for us in this process. My own inner critic as well as a few physical voices in our lives have reminded us of what we already know; it's a demanding journey physically and emotionally. It's a lot to take on. Are we sure?

Well, no. I'm not sure of my own abilities in this journey. But what I do know is that I am called by a God to this path who equips me. I'm not sure of myself, but I'm sure of Him. My God is a mountain mover, and of that, I am sure.

I know that when those thoughts have crossed my mind or I've had someone say those things to us, instead of taking them straight to heart, I took them straight to God and He tells me a different story.

You see, God tells me a story of redemption. God reminds me that He adopted me and that there is nothing I can do to make Him love me more or less. 

The world says: Look at all you've done to mess up! Are you sure you're able to do this?

God says: Oh my child, I've already forgiven that. Here are earthly opportunities to make it right. I'll never call you anywhere and then leave you to walk it alone.

The world says: Look at all of these obstacles! Why would you subject yourself to that?

God says: Look at all these obstacles; they pale in comparison to what I can do! I empowered David to slay a giant and Peter to walk on water. I protected Daniel in the lion's den and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace. I empowered Moses to leave the luxurious life with Pharaoh and lead many people to freedom. I empowered Abraham with the faith to take Isaac up as a sacrifice, an unimaginable trek as a parent, knowing that God saw the whole story. My child, Job lost everything, everything but His faith in me, and I restored Him.

God rarely calls us to an easy path. God tends to show His glory through our stories, and often times, they are stories that shouldn't have been able to happen. That's so that the glory goes to Him and not us. We are merely a reflection. It's so that people look at our stories and say: "Their God, He has to be real. There's no other way. They shouldn't have been able to do that. But God. But look what God did."

God uses the unlikely to accomplish the impossible so that we can say "Look what my God did!".

For my husband and me, the adoption process is something that we know won't be easy. We are prepared for our hearts to be broken and we know that these are just the first of many moments when we will silently or aloud wonder if we should take the easier road and walk away.

But God reminds us that He didn't call us to start this process and then walk away. He called us to walk this path until He says this chapter is closed. He has called us to be living examples of what his mercy and grace does for a person, and to extend it to others. He has called us to live out His picture of adoption, the picture of His ultimate love and mercy and grace, in our own living room.

Adoption, though the long process is just starting for us, is the Gospel in our living room; for ourselves, for our daughters, for the children who come into our home, and for anyone who sees and knows that only God could have written this story.

It's easy to fall into the temptation of taking the smoother pathway. But if God calls you to the bumpy road with potholes and detours, in faith you take one step at a time, trusting that He will never leave you nor forsake you at any point on that road. We have to trust that the One who has already written all of our days, who intimately and infinitely knows and loves us, knows better than us.

We will hear the world, but we must listen to God. 
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Friday, May 27, 2016

Send Me

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!"
Isaiah 6:8

 Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.
Matthew 28:19-20

The Lord very clearly calls us to "go". Nowhere in the Bible does He tell us to become complacent, content to stay where we are, with attitudes of apathy. We should respond with a willingness to go where He sends us, no matter the cost.
The thing is, you don't respond to His call halfheartedly. Make sure you are truly ready to willingly go wherever He sends you.
It is not a call to take lightly. We are to be His hands and feet in all of the world. We are to love Him first and foremost. Then, we love His children; all of them. We have to be willing to humble ourselves and wash the feet of those around us. We have to be willing to sweat and get our hands dirty. Most of all, we have to be willing to let our hearts be broken in order to love the broken as Christ has called us to do.
Loving others wholeheartedly means, our hearts will most definitely get broken at times. But your heart will also be continually filled.
When you go, yes your heart will get broken and it will be hard more often than it is easy, but you will be rich in ways you never imagined. You will see that love and kindness can change the course of a person's life. You will learn to find joy in small moments and in the genuine smile of another person. You will feel the joy that comes from reaching out to another person and showing them love. You will forever carry the joy that comes from doing for those who can never repay you.
You may not ever be rich by the world's standards; in fact, you may be poor if measured in that capacity. But we have to abandon that standard of measurement and trade it in for the standard that says love and poverty cannot coexist.
When you buy a meal for the homeless person sitting on the bench, and then you take the time to sit down and eat with them, their smile and the connection with them will make you rich. When you take the time to bend down to a child's level and remind them of their worth, their embrace will make you rich. You become rich when the laughter of a hurting person fills your ears because you stopped to listen and then the two of you connected. 
When God calls you to go, be ready. Be ready to have your heart broken in order for it to grow. Be ready to live a life you could never envision. Be ready for the hardships, the naysayers, and the days when you think it's not worth it. But also, prepare to be blessed beyond measure.
Here's the truth friends: love changes lives. Jesus changes lives, and in His abundant mercy, He chooses to use us in that process. Kindness changes lives. When you answer the call to go, the call extended to all believers, He will change your life as well. 
Love is a funny thing. It's the only thing in this world that, the more you give, the more you gain.
We are called to live with abandon, embracing His will and following where He leads. Our comfort zones must be abandoned and traded in for the unknown that He calls us to. 
If you're comfortable, ask Him to make you uncomfortable; so uncomfortable with the condition of this world that you can no longer sit idly by and let it continue. Ask for His eyes to truly see those around you. Ask Him to break your heart for what breaks His. He will answer that prayer and you have to be willing to no longer turn your head and look the other way to continue in your life of comfort. 
We are called to serve. We are called to love. We are called to go.
Abandon apathy. Put on your walking shoes. Get your hands dirty. And go. 
Are you ready?
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Friday, April 1, 2016


I found myself just feeling tired today. Physically tired.

It wasn't abnormal or debilitating, but I could feel my patience wearing thin and I remember taking a breath and saying, "Lord, I need a little rest to finish this day". I could feel His arms gather me up as He reassured me that He knew I was tired.

Like He always does, He provided that rest. I took an amazing nap during my break today and returned feeling refreshed. He provided some emotional rest and refreshment when a parent brought me donuts as a "thank you" happy and I had another stop to tell me how grateful they were that their son loved coming to see Mrs. Staci in the mornings. He provided rest and confirmation in the smiling and laughing faces of precious children late this afternoon as we danced to the Hokey Pokey and got all of our "sillies" out.

It may not seem like much and these small little miracles can be easily overlooked and they daily go unnoticed. I'm so guilty of getting so caught up in a pity party that these beautiful little moments flow right on by and I lose out on the immense joy that they carry.

Reflecting back on the day and how God provided rest for me in every single way that I needed it, it was a bit overwhelming. The God of everything, who created heaven and earth; the God of all the universe, cares about me enough to orchestrate all of that to provide for me. 

God doesn't need me for anything. He chooses me.

How refreshing to know 
You don't need me
How amazing to find
that You want me
- "In Me" by Casting Crowns

He loves me; not because of who I am or anything I have done or ever could do, but because He chooses to. He calls me beloved. I have done nothing to earn that. I could never earn that.

In His gracious and merciful character, He chooses to call me His beloved daughter.

If He can hold the world,
He can hold this moment
Not a field or flower
Escapes His notice
Even the sparrow knows,
He holds tomorrow
-"Sparrows" by Jason Gray

Even the sparrow knows that He holds tomorrow.

He knows your hurt, your pain, your happiness, and your joy; He knows your stress and your exhaustion. He knows your cares and your worries.

He's with you. But He doesn't want to just be beside you in life; He wants to be involved in every detail of your life. He wants to be caught up in every aspect and living in the midst of your life. Let Him. When we involve Him in all of those small details every day, we are often surprised how He sends and provides for us, and when we are aware and notice these moments because we are tuned into Him and ready to listen, we experience the joy that comes from walking in His presence.

He loves you. He chooses to call you His beloved child. 

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Sunday, March 20, 2016

A Dining Room Chair and other Thoughts

God's been pressing on my heart for a few weeks now to pull out my computer and write, but I've put it off because I just haven't known where to start or exactly what He wanted me to write.
I've had lots of thoughts that jolted me awake at night or raced through my head as I fell asleep, but they've felt distanced and disorganized and I just could not figure out how they all connected. I've felt like I had bits and pieces of about four different novels circulating through my mind and somehow the tie that binds them had been severed.
My husband and I went "thrifting" yesterday. In other words, we perused a few thrift stores trying to find some chairs for our new dining room table. We had fun stopping to play some pianos that were way out of tune and rifling through old records stashed in plastic tubs.
At thrift store number three, we found tons of chairs, but none that were in a set of four, which is what we needed for our family. We weren't even being picky. I wanted to find some old chairs that I could paint so I didn't care about the color, only that they were sturdy.
Finally, we found two pairs of chairs that we liked at thrift store number three. They looked nothing alike, but something about each pair appealed to my husband and I so we decided to mismatch and call it a day.
We ventured to Hobby Lobby (which my husband secretly loves; don't let him tell you otherwise) and  through the process of elimination, settled on a neutral coloring pairing that would contrast our dark table.
This afternoon, after church and that mandatory Sunday afternoon nap, I sat down in my art corner to put the first coat of paint on two of the chairs before I had to leave for choir practice. 
As I was painting the first chair, I started chipping away at the layers of paint on it. Currently, it was a navy blue and before that it had been a farmhouse red. Below that was white, which was as far as I got. I found myself wondering how old the chairs were and how many families had sat down in them for a meal. I pictured them sitting around a small table in their original days while a family proudly enjoyed a new meal in them. I pictured them being loaded up to go to a new family when the one that they had sat with for so long had grown old or moved away. I imagined many different things that they might have seen on their journey to my apartment where they are undergoing a makeover.
I wondered if the first family that owned them ever thought that these chairs would one day have such a big job to do. You see, for me, painting these chairs for our new table in our new home is a really big deal. Family meals were never a concern of mine because I struggled with anorexia since my teen years. My goal was always to avoid meals, not create them and celebrate the fellowship. The new home, the new city, new jobs, new table, new (to us) chairs, are all symbolic of this new chapter. The makeover of the chairs is, in a way, symbolic as well. 
As I painted the chairs and had some praise and worship music going on my Pandora station and my husband was sitting at the table working on his current project, I couldn't help but smile. These chairs and this table and this home, are ready for new memories. They are ready for the task of housing a family and serving as the gathering spot for fellowship of our family and friends. They are ready to be used by a family that has been broken, but restored by Calvary. They are ready to absorb conversations between a husband a wife, a mother and father, mother and daughter, father and daughter, sisters; conversations between a family and the Jesus that they were saved to serve.
Like the chair I was painting, people don't always know where we've been. Sometimes, we aren't even quite sure of where we have been. Maybe when the place you are serving is no longer where God wants you and you're unsure where your next "home" will be, you're afraid and hesitant. You get cracked and your paint chips along the way, but every home you land in is the right fit for that time. Sometimes, God will allow you to be broken down so that He can build you back up. He allows you to be broken, so that your need for Him and only Him becomes so strong that you can't help but chase after Him with a desire that only He can quench; until our only desire is to be used by Him to glorify Him and to further His kingdom. Until our only desire is to know Jesus and to make Him known.

Sometimes, God has you go through that journey so that you can see that you need Him and that you need the support He graciously gives us through our friends and family and fellow believers. In that journey, we discover who we are, not as a personality or a career or title, but as a fearfully and wonderfully made, exponentially loved, child of God. 
Sometimes, He uses a beat up wooden chair with chipped paint from a thrift store to speak to you and organize the thoughts He has given you. Sometimes, there is a miracle to be found in a dining room chair.
Praise God that get a new coat of paint. We get a makeover. 
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Sunday, January 17, 2016

Whatever it Takes

Tonight, I did like every night (when I'm not recovering from abdominal surgery and living on the couch) and went to my room, snuggled under some warm blankets, got my Jesus music on lightly in the background, put the phone away, and pulled out my Bible and all of its current friends.

But tonight was a little different. God broke up my routine a bit (which is always a marvelously good thing, even--scratch that--especially when it's hard). I was reading a little book by Max Lucado called Everyday Blessings and playing a little catch up from being completely out of commission the last two weeks. The verse is Psalm 136:1 and the small little tidbit below it was like, well I said "smack in the face" but really it was more of a Father's loving, guiding touch; and I heard "I'm waiting for you to fully let me be your Father". 

It said:

If I know that one of the privileges of fatherhood is to comfort a child, then why am I so reluctant to let my Heavenly Father comfort me? Why do I think He is too busy for me?

And I had to set the book and my Bible to the side and fall facedown before a Father who loves me beyond my comprehension, and has been longing to extend that comfort to a receptive daughter. And I cried a gushing waterfall on the floor that no dam could contain, but they weren't filled with sadness or defeat. They were filled with understanding, and gratitude, and regret, and peace.

Understanding that He's been extending comfort to me from Himself as my Father and also through godly people He has surrounded me with. Understanding that being afraid of being hurt, I've shoved it away, as I cowered waiting for it to be snatched away like some past experiences. Understanding that God is showing me another area of my life that I need to surrender control and go to Him for comfort and be receptive of that comfort in every avenue that He sends it my way. Understanding that it's time to start calling out the lies that I'm not good enough or that I'm not worthy of it and putting everyone else in my life, whether relationally or in passing, on a higher level that I think I will never be good enough reach to stand beside anyone. 

Gratitude, that He never leaves me. Gratitude that He is opening my eyes a little bit at the time to areas of my life where that total surrender isn't quite total. Gratitude that He gives me everything that I need even though I don't deserve it. Opening my eyes that being undeserving of His grace, and compassion, and love, makes me human, but not worthless and not less.

Regret, for pushing away what He has sent my way; for retreating in fear and still carrying that stone of the wall that is my life that He is currently dismantling to rebuild on a foundation in which, He is Lord of ALL and the total surrender is daily and in every aspect of my life.

Peace that only He can give. Peace that He is always there and I can always go to Him. Peace because He is a Good, good, Father and a faithful Father who openly extends forgiveness, mercy, grace, love, and much more beyond the comprehension of man. Peace that He's walking beside me, carrying me as needed, providing Fatherly discipline and redirecting as needed, and a peace in knowing that that truth will never change.

No matter where I go. No matter what I do. No matter what the world throws at me, He is constant; a sure and sturdy foundation. No matter if I stray, I have peace knowing that my Father, my Jesus, will do whatever it takes to bring His wayward sheep home. 

Friday, January 1, 2016

Hello 2016

Another year is here (I actually stayed up to ring it in this year) and I couldn't be more excited to see what it holds, but at the same time, I am grateful for all of the gifts that 2015 had to offer.

Honestly, it would be so easy for me to talk about how awful 2015 was. Very easy. But yesterday I was challenged to only look back at 2015 in a positive way and I realized that the things I could easily complain about from 2015 also gave me some incredible gifts.

I was challenged to think of 12 gifts from 2015 and 12 words to take with me into 2016. These were the 12 gifts from 2015 that came to mind:

1). Reconciliation: Broken relationships mended and reliefs that come with that.

2). Family Memories: All of the memories with my husband and daughters this year are more than I can name. Every moment of every day of every year is an incredible blessing because of the gift from God of their existence and presence in my life.

3). Brokenness: People tend to associate this word with such negativity, and rightfully so as being truly broken is hard and uncomfortable. But most people also tend to forget the beauty that emerges from being broken. 2015 found me shattered into a million tiny pieces that seemed impossible to find, like a porcelain doll that had been smashed by a hammer over the ocean shore as the tide moved in and out. It was panic inducing and I was afraid as I realized that no matter how hard I tried, all of the pieces wouldn't be found. Some of them were washed out to sea for eternity, never to be found again. I was afraid and angry and resistant because I didn't know what to do without those pieces.

Finally, I resigned myself to gather what I could. I didn't find many pieces; only the ones that made up the basic components of myself. All of the details were gone. Hopelessness and desperation suddenly consumed me. I fought the situation until I had no more energy to fight and I was just...still. I gave the pieces I had to God and prayed for direction on how to move forward.

Gradually, God began to place new pieces in my path. Some of them were scarred pieces of shell that had been worn down by the ocean tides. I was hesitant to pick them up, but God showed me that the scars were healed physically. I picked them up with the doubt still strong and began to add them to the pieces I had. Some of the pieces were beautiful shells and incredibly strong ones. Some looked like they belonged to an artist of the sea with patterns of blues and purples and oranges among the familiar white and gray. 

At the end of 2015, I find myself looking at the pile of pieces I've gathered and noticing that some of them have been glued together by strength, faith, courage, relationships, love, grace, and so much more. I can't see the whole piece yet, but I can tell that it's beautiful. Beauty from the broken. I had to completely fall apart in order for healing to take place.

4). 2nd Chances: More than I can count. Second chances at life. Second chances at health. Second chances at happiness and true joy. The grace God grants every time I falter. I have more gratitude than I can express.

5). Good Football Season: Okay, I had to throw in a shout out to my Bama boys! Ha! 

6). New friendships: This is a huge one. My months in Birmingham have consisted of so many new connections and friendships that God has placed in my path. They are each such a blessing and bring so much joy to my life.

7). Broken Boundaries for Self: The chains that bound me into the small little world inside my head are no longer holding strong around me. The main link has broken and the others are falling apart in time. The world is a big place in which God has so many opportunities for each of us. My eyes are opening to all that is out there.

8). Renewal: In every way that the word applies.

9). Vulnerability: One of my biggest fears; letting others see my fears. Letting others see my pain and my scars and the baggage I've carried for so long. The walls that I had spent so much time building to hide all of it had to come down. It was one of the most hard and terrifying things I've ever done; to allow people to truly see every part of me. But, without this vulnerability, none of the amazing things that have grown within my life would have had the room to grow. 

10). Freedom From Fears: They're not gone. They're still here. But they no longer control everything I do.

11). Broken Chains: One by one. They're coming undone.

12). A New Reflection: I no longer cringe every single time I look in the mirror. My eating disorder still tries to pick me apart, but I'm learning to call out its lies and cover them with truths, even if I don't quite believe all of them wholeheartedly yet. I don't see the same person anymore. I'm not the same person. 

The next challenge was to come up with the 12 words to carry into 2016:

1). Connections: Continuing to foster current healthy connections with others and openness to new ones. 

2). Peace: Peace that can only come from Jesus. Peace with life. Peace that comes with trusting Him with whatever comes. 

3). Freedom: Seeking complete freedom from fears and this eating disorder so that nothing in my life is controlled by them.

4). Empowerment: Finding inner strength in myself and Christ within me.

5). Joy: Continuing to carry this joy with me that comes only from Him. Seeking joyful moments in every day and every situation.

6). Acceptance: Of myself as I am now, and of my past, and wherever I am in life.

7). Undone: Being comfortable in being completely undone so that God can put it all back together again.

8). Hope: Hope for full recovery, hope for what is to come, hope for a life no longer bound by chains.

9). Courage: Courage to recover and give up unhealthy coping skills that have been my normal for so long. Courage to break out of the comfort zone that my eating disorder has become. Courage to seek Christ first in everything. Courage to trust myself and others. Courage to trust the recovery process. Courage to seek acceptance.

10). Strength: Inner strength in Christ within me. Grabbing hold of it. Believing in it. Holding on to it. Applying it.

11). Faith: In God, myself, and others.

12). Passion: Constant pursuit of the passions that God has placed within me. Boldly seeking the things that set my soul on fire.

I've seen so many posts about being so glad 2015 is over and how awful it was. I get it. I've done that so many times, especially in 2012. I could easily say that about 2015. I've worked harder the last few months than I ever have. It's been an insane roller coaster ride. But, being challenged to only look at the positive completely changed my perspective and increased the joy within me.

My challenge to you is to look at 2016 in a different way. Find only positive things about 2015. That doesn't mean you don't honor the bad things; it just means that you aren't letting them pack the good things in a box. Take 2016 as an opportunity to love yourself; physically, emotionally, spiritually. 

Picture yourself as a well. Every time you give to others, whether it be time or love or support, you empty a bucket of water from the well. Eventually, the well will run dry and you have nothing left to put in your bucket. You're just empty.

Be open to receiving love and time and support from others. Be open to receiving what God has for you. Let Him refill your well. When the world tells you aren't worthy of receiving, call out those lies and cover them in truth. When the world tells you that you aren't good enough or that your body isn't good enough or thin enough or that nothing you have to offer is good enough, tell those lies to shut up. Tell them the truth, even if you don't wholeheartedly believe it yourself. 

Take time to get to know yourself and fall in love with the unique person that God created you to be. Allow yourself to receive the abundant life that He has always intended for you to live. Find what sets your soul on fire and passionately pursue it. Find what helps you to feel connected to God, yourself, and others and make time to engage in it and practice self care. Be you(tiful). Seek joy. And by seeking joy, and finding joy, you will spread joy all over 2016.

Monday, December 28, 2015


Oh Today is my favorite day of the year.

I walked around today with a smile on my face while inwardly I kind of felt like I was in a fog.

Every time I wrote the date, I kept thinking "I should be so excited today!", and I was, but it I still felt like I was trapped in this cloud of confusion. All day, I felt like I was "full" of something, but I didn't know what. Tears threatened to exit my eyes all day and I had no idea why.

Finally, some after dinner prompting brought forth those tears and I found the courage to navigate through the fog as I washed dishes and sang along with Adele on the radio. 

Suddenly, it hit me. I was just really happy. And it's still so strange and uncomfortable that I was afraid of it. So, instead of accepting it today, I pushed it and pushed it away until it hung around as that heavy fog within me, waiting for me to embrace it.

Now I find myself in my room; in my happy place with some crayons and an adult coloring book calendar a sweet friend gave me today as I listen to the wind whistling outside of my windows. I'm embracing the happy; embracing the joy of what this day means to me.

On this day in 2004, I accepted Jesus as my Savior and my life was radically changed forever. I went from being the kid who dreaded going to church at Easter and Christmas, to being a teenager who wanted to be there as often as I could. 

Through the years, even as I strayed and pushed Him away, He was always there waiting for me to come running back into His arms. 

Today, as I reflected on years back, I realized that's where I am now. My grip finally began to loosen the last few months. I had to swallow my pride and admit that I needed help. But when I truly, truly, reached that point, He was there. For eleven years, He has always been by my side. 

With every step I took towards Him, I felt a weight lifted. Not that everything is just peachy now, but He was helping me carry them every step and He still is. Like a child, I crawled in His lap and breathed a sigh of relief as His loving arms wrapped around His hurting daughter and my tears no longer felt meaningless, but instead felt understood. Each tear carried a piece of the loneliness I had felt for so long and I felt assured that I would never be alone.

He has strategically placed people in my life and orchestrated everything to work together for healing to finally begin. He's given me the courage and the strength to really dig deep and be honest with myself. He's given me beautiful glimpses of life outside of an eating disorder that are so joyful that they have left me desperate for more. Freedom.

There's a MercyMe song called "Undone" and the chorus says:

To the cross I run,
Holding high my chains undone.
Now I am finally free,
Free to be what I've become

And when I heard this song on Saturday for the first time in years as I was driving down the interstate, the floodgates of gratitude opened. I had no words, but my tears said everything. I thought, "That's me. That's me!". 

Some days my life just feels like a jumbled mess. Only now, it's a jumbled mess because it's all becoming undone. He is calling me out of my comfort zones to experience the true joy He gives. The chains are undone and beginning to unravel their intricate links. I feel glimpses of freedom from this eating disorder. I feel glimpses of not being afraid all the time. I hear Him whisper, "You are always safe with Me" and I believe it. Wholeheartedly.

He's beginning to show me purpose in my past and it's life changing. He's allowed me to experience true joy that comes with authentic connections with other people and I've embraced how important that is in my life. 

My world is coming undone. But it's not a tragic undoing. It's miraculous. It's unraveling so that a fresh start can be made and an abundant life can begin.

I'm undone. I'm broken. And it's beautiful.