Let me be singing when the evening comes....

There are times when I look around and everything feels foreign. Everything. and i wonder what the hell i'm even doing with my life?

But actually.

Then there are times, when you sit in places and drink beer and talk about college, and life before you knew each other, and how its scary to get your first big kid job. And you almost cry. And you plan parties and laugh about having soft hearts, and you show up on a whim wearing leggings knowing that it doesn't even matter. and you talk to your waitress about vacations and nail polish like you're old friends.

And i really like that.

I also really like getting texts from Rita, who just always knows when things aren't awesome and all she says is "I hope your day has turned around" and "wine and chocolate at my house whenever you need it"

and for the love.

How can you ever be disappointed when you have people like that in your life.

Jesus is such a funny little guy.

i can't remember the last time i was on vacation.

i might just say "fuck it" and go to nashville for my birthday  and turn 30 there and do what i want.

and also get "my anchor holds within the veil" with an anchor hanging off the last l tattoo on my body

because the reality is that nobody cares about pinkie swears and sentimental shit the way i do.

Here's to belonging, and being grateful and doing things the way makes sense to you, and being excited that the best is yet to come.

because it will.

let's all be freakin' brave.

THAT ONE TIME I GOT TO MEET MY FAVORITE WRITER  (well, living writer, anyway) BECAUSE I GOT SWEET CONNECTIONS.

i am actually besides myself.

BESIDE MYSELF.

i can't. i have no idea what to wear. or to say. or how i will be anything but a total spaz for the next two weeks.

i need to pull my shit together.

it's a 20 min skype date. and we wont all be in the fame. i'm ridiculous. i'm getting down off the ledge. Getting out of the deep end, you know...calming the eff down.

BUT I'M DYING ABOUT IT.

LISA.IS.MY.GIRL

ALWAYS AND FOREVER. sweet baby j. she makes my life better.

her life is kinda cray right now. Her heart is real big and soft and watching her hurt for other people makes my heart hurt...so just pray for her, cool?

she's the best kind of human, so it's def. prayers well prayed.

i'll do the splits over the gap for that girl, more than just stand in it. If you know me, you know that not a single part of my body is flexible except my thumb. and even that's risky.

BUT ANNIE AND LISA and all God's people said....

my life is crazy cool.

There comes a point when you will exhale

If we're being honest, or, really, if i'm being honest..I hate my body. pretty much everything about it.

 i'm a chubby kid. Always have been. I remember one time my mom asking the doctor if we should be concerned about my weight...i must have been 10? 11? maybe? Old enough to remember and young enough for my mom to be in the exam room with me. I remember my doctor telling me that i was active and strong and as long as i was running and playing and being a normal kid, she shouldn't worry.

and as soon as my mother stopped worrying (which by the way she didn't, she always made mom-ish comments never meant to make me feel bad....just make me aware i'm not a size 4)  Is the minute i started to notice. i started to look in the mirror with judgment. As i got older, I'd silently be sad about it and wondering why i couldn't be different.

i have glasses. My skin ebbs and flows with hissy fits. My butt is big. i have a double chin that i'm convinced is genetic and has always been a part of me. always. always. always.

I'm just big. and my face is round. my cheeks are forever chubby.

And if we're being honest, even when I was most most physically fit. i was still big.

I'm pretty strong. I'll give you that. I have some muscle. i have an athletic build for sure.

but i don't remember a time when i was smaller than a size 14. Ever. I feel like I've been on the verge of an eating disorder my whole life, but thankfully sometime keeps me in check. Jesus. My brain. The people who love me.

I'm funny, because i have to be. Because i'm not pretty not even a little. Don't get me wrong, i like that people think i'm funny. I like funny. I appreciate humor more than most things and i'm smart. and i wouldn't trade those traits to look like Jennifer Aniston or Jessica Beale ever.

i'm the funny best friend side kick. Boys almost never talked to me. Most people mistake my deep insecurity has confidence, because i believe i don't need a boy.

And i do believe that, but i also believe that i might not get one.  i don't need one. i just sometime want one. And the fear of rejection, the fear of someone smaller and prettier and more charming haunts me, like actually

I stare in the mirror and agonize and analyze every roll and lump and look at myself from the side, and most of the time really dislike what i see.

and i have beautiful friends. Like actually it's a little crazy how many beautiful friends i have. i love having pretty friends, but i'd be lying if it didn't make me feel less than sometimes. you know what it feels like to the be the least attractive person in the group? To be the one that somehow ruins photos because of a stupid face that they make? Also...photos make me want to die. holy hell. I can't even.

It gives me anxiety just thinking about it.

Ok, i know, if i hate what i see, why don't i change it? Well, i mean super valid question. I try. and i'm like...active....i just need to be super serious about things. Slash i need to understand that i look how i look. My face wont change. My DNA is my DNA.  I also know i'll never be a size 4. I don't want to be, either.

I just want to like what i see when i look in the mirror. I want my clothes to fit. I want to be healthy, and strong.

I vacillate between wanting to be super girly and wanting to play with the boys. I will always the girl who love dresses but  also loves baseball and rollerblading and can life things, some of which are moderately heavy.

My point? I don't know if i have one. Word vomit in a safe place. I don't i've ever been super honest with anyone that isn't God or my mother about how much i have a terrible bod image, which is directly tied to self worth.

which is disgusting. I sit with my small group of high school girls who are worried about all the same things. I tell them that it will get better, you'll learn to love your body and that they are beautiful.

I am still waiting of that day, too and i'm almost 30. so...who knows when that day will be for me. Maybe never.

I fight the battle every day of seeing myself the way God sees me and the way a very human, very critical me sees myself, and most days i loose the battle.

It's not sad, really, as it is just honest.

Please don't think that i sit around and cry about my body because i don't. At least, not a lot. I can make a joke about it, i deal pretty well, but sometimes it's just the worst.

And trust me, there are big societal pressures pressin' down on me. Under pressure, indeed, and i know they are dumb and not true....but it still doesn't change that fact that the standard of beauty is ingrained in me and i don't fit those standards.

most of the time it's cool. I like being a honey badger, I march proudly the the beat of my own, off beat drum, i do what i want and its fine. But it's still a struggle, you know? And i'd like to think that one day it wont be.

And sometimes, i really like my butt and i look at it in the mirror. I fill out jeans (when they fit) like a boss.

but sometimes i want to wear cute riding boots and cute dresses that don't make me look i'm a circus bear riding a toy bike and a fat guy in a little coat.

I mean seriously.

I'm a work in progress absolutely, 1000% over. I am flawed and broken and honest, and raw and i will fight for you to love yourself but then turn right around and hate myself....but i know that it makes me endearing, it makes me able to have a space to tell a story that someone can relate to, and will listen to. My struggle will preach. My struggle will show jesus. My struggle will makes  someone else's burden lighter. You are not alone girls. I get it. Let's be beautiful together.

And i'm so thankful for the women in my life, my mama has tried so hard to instill all the right things in me and to teach me what true beauty is.

My soul might be beautiful and i hope that people can see that.

Currently I have writer's remorse. I haven't even posted it yet, and already i feel like i've shared too much of the ugly with you. Too much of the crap that i try push out the way all the time.

it's too personal and i don't want you to feel bad for me because i'm not unhappy. I'm not sad. I'm just being real about what 29 years of being this girls has meant.

i have a beautiful life. My life is actually so great and lovely, but we all have something, right? this for sure is mine.

So, can you gain anything form this? Probably not, just that i'm horribly human, and i fake confidence on the regular, and i'm just trying to live a good life and love Jesus the best way i can.

And i really love brownies.

i don't know. Just be nice to each other.

Someone is on your side.....

Lately, nostalgia has been hanging out on my couch, which I don't really mind, I guess. I kind of like when she comes to visit. Every memory, even the not so lovely ones, seem a little sun-kissed. Light and laughter and the memory of struggle and success flood my mind like old Polaroids collaged on a bulletin boards. Each date carefully written in black sharpie. Some corners are bent, and worn from use, others are have only recently been taken out and put on display.

Lately, I've been thinking about last summer and how things have morphed and changed and blossomed since then. I think about Africa, and feeling how present Jesus was. How completely i let people into my life and heart. How so many small things snowballed into life now, as we know it. that summer, when my heart broke all the way open. That summer when the person (people) on the other side of the table believed in me. That summer when i felt the most loved and protected i ever have by people who i do not share chromosomes with. 

We'll talk about that summer as the summer of Africa. We'll remember it so sweetly, and with such care. When we remember it, we'll hold it with two hands because it's extra fragile because when we look at it now, as if looking at an x-ray, that our hearts, all of them, were just out in the open, beating, unprotected. And they all broke. And, i think, that in picking up the pieces, i grabbed some of theirs, so they are now part of me, and i would venture to say the same is true of them....but you'd have to ask them.  i tend to get too attached and i tend to think about things in super poetic ways, so them might not think like that at all. 

As I hang out on memory lane with my old pals, one thing keeps coming to mind: a Bible verse. If you know me at all, you know that i don't think in Bible verses. never have. But for whatever reason, John 13:7 will not go away: Jesus replied, "You don't understand now what I am doing, but someday you will."

As much as I would like to pretend I don't understand this slash sometimes I would rather say "i don't know what's going on in my life" this all makes sense. All of it, which is both annoying and beautiful. Mostly, it's beautiful. What's beginning to make sense is that things happen, and you can choose to see Jesus in them or not. You can choose to feel like a charity case, or you can choose to see how beautiful authentic relationships are. We said "yes's" instead of no's. that matters.

While some things may have run their course, their significance is maintained. Roots need to be established before anything can grow and produce fruit that can sustain people. I think that in being who i need to be for the people in my life, I am learning to be more me. Does that even make sense? i will look back on this and understand what's happening in the here and now so much better, and i'll marvel at how intricately intertwined our lives and stories are, and how none of it is by mistake and none of it is for our glory.

We are all being shaped, and changed, challenged and supported and we are figuring it out together, which is scary and frustrating. sometimes we all need separate corners. room to breathe. time to think. some of it makes sense, and some of it doesn't. someday, though, it will.

And in another year or two when nostalgia comes for a visit. I'll pull out my memories, blow off the dust, and I'll probably be all weepy through my smiles because what I'll see is not myself. Not an exceptional group of people or circumstances, but, instead, I'll see Jesus.

i believe in thing called love.

I haven't made a good list in a long time. Mostly because i haven't had the attention span or the desire to make one.

 But for tonight, for the sake of having nothing else to do, here are some things, i believe in:

1. Saying "i love you" when you drop someone off that you love. You never know when you'll see them again.

2. Eating dinner together. As a family, as a group of friends, as a community. Sitting down to focus on each other is huge. Relationships matter and the time you get to spend with the special ones is always too short.

3. Helping. No offer is too small. A donation, an offer of help, to mow a yard, read a book with a kid, watch a baby. It all counts. It all matters.

4. Having at least one "spill your guts, cryin in front of " friend. You know. Someone you trust with the most fragile parts of you? That. Find one and hold on to her.

5. A go to outfit. A dress. some great jeans a t-shirt. Whatever makes you feel beautiful and good in your skin.

6. A day once in awhile where you don't get out of your jim jams and you drink coffee and watch whatever you want all day...and you don't don't answer the phone.

7. A day every now and again, that you go an adventure in your own city. Go to your favorite stores, grab coffee, find some great antiques. It's real good for your soul.

8. have coffee with your friends.

9. Hug the people you love.

10. Pray every day for other people before yourself.

11.  Make playlists for things like when it's raining, fall, when you're doing work.

12. reading about things you love. things that challenge you. things that break your heart.

13. being a kid sometimes.

14. Laughing. as often and as hard as you can.

15. letting people surprise you and help you and generally love you.

16. I believe in, as much as i can, that god's got me. and you. and he'll take care this world.

17. honoring your word, and your commitments.

18. Find a kid. and love them. pour into them. take them out for coffee. it can literally change the way things work.

My anchor holds within the veil.

It's late-ish, I haven't been sleeping well, so, naturally i'm still up.  The light in my room is still on and i am typing away all the thoughts that are in my head, instead of having visions of sugar plums dancing in them.

If you don't get that, I'm sorry, I cannot help you.

I'm reading a lot lately, which is exactly what I should be doing. i mean, among other things (like sleeping, drinking enough water, eating dinner....ahem...i'll conquer that, tomo, maybe). I read "let's all be brave" In about five minutes and loved every word. Annie Downs is absolutely my soul sister. She gets me and my heart.  This book is not an amazingly deep or anything but it is as charming, and funny and heart grabbing as you'd want something to be. It's beautiful and it makes me want to be brave.

So, obviously i've been thinking a lot about who is brave in my life. Currently, i don't feel brave. I feel comfortable. I want things to just be real chill, I don't want to fall or fail or, worse yet succeed totally. like slam dunk it because then i will be wracked with guilt for not doing it sooner.

i find myself smack dab in the middle of a lot of things. My most favorite friend is 10 years old than i am. i spend my time with people either 10+ years older or 10+ years younger. and i'm just sort of in the middle trying to figure it all out.

But it's kind of a great place to be because i'm surrounded by bravery on all fronts. My sweet 8 year old nick, who because he is so young is trying everything for the first time and is kind of everyone, especially the kids who need a little extra lovin', and in kid world that's a big deal because you get made fun of for being friends with the kid who pees his pants or falls down a lot. He love completely and without hesitation and that is hard and brave and i love every last bit of him.

My high school girls who are fighting the body image, popularity, label war. Bless their hearts they are in the trenches, and trying to figure it all out. They fail a whole bunch, but they keep trying. They are about to go to college, they are about to leave all the comfort of 18 years of lovin' for something brand new. That will change them and challenge them. They'll do it with the regulars to help them.

They are about to become who they'll be. Rad, right? And i get to watch it for as long as God keeps me in it. It's a huge honor to be let in on their lives, to be given room to speak and listen and care. I do not take that lightly, and feel so incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to love these girls through their most formative and confusing years.

Then we have my 10+'s. My best girl is the bravest girl i know. I learn from her all the time. She pushes me and makes me crazy and does things that are born out of nothing but love and integrity. She does it all so selflessly. I don't think she really realizes how much i want to be like her when i "grow up." When i stop and think about all she's done, all shes does and has been through and how she always tries to do the right thing even when she has every right to be mad, and broken and bitter.

she doesn't. That is a big, big deal. also, That time she went to africa, though. She's blazes that trail for me and comes back to help me walk down mine. There will never be enough words of gratitude to express my love or thankfulness. It's funny to think that we are the same kind of different. That of all the people in this world, we've found each other.

The other women at my "table" who eat with me, let me into their lives, have stories that put mine to shame every time. The women who trust me with their kids, and their hearts and their stories.

Again. There are not enough words.

And tonight, as i'm driving home with the scent of summer on my skin, and heart so full of love and awe of how Jesus takes care of us, i was just hit by the importance of this season. I get poured into, i can then pour into my littles.

i'm not lost. I'm home. I'm not wandering, I'm following my heart. I'm not immature. i'm learning and becoming.

I'm not alone. I am deeply, and profoundly loved.

It's this beautiful, torch passing, water pouring, out door table, hand holding, heart tuggin' imagery that makes me weepy. It's where my puzzle pieces fits and my heart feels home. I'm surrounded by beautiful examples of bravery.

"It’s not about age, and it’s not about experience, and it’s not about this looming gap between us. It’s about linking arms as sisters, one a step behind, one a step ahead, all of us marching forward together. Let’s forget the word mentor and focus on friendship. May we embrace, may we invest, and may we accept one another, just as we are."