clumsy believer.

-plato

life is filled with dirt and sunshine. humility and glory. pain and joy. brokenness and healing.

i think i’ve been aware of this reality for quite some time now. perhaps the first time i really understood what pain was was when i was seven. i don’t remember anything save my mother crying and the police. my dad never came home.
from then on it’s been a struggle to walk the right path, be the right kind of person and find the meaning of whatever everything is. as people are beat over the back with all this fallen world has to offer, it becomes easy to develop a natural slump.

today i read that 115,000 abortions will occur around the world. nearly simultaneously, a holocaust of epidemic proportions. beautiful human bodies and hearts…lost. being the person i am, i often get caught up in the horrific statistics that tell us simply — life is horrible.
out of curiosity, i searched another statistic: today 490,000 precious, perfect babies will arrive on earth. this will happen tomorrow and the next day and the next. and though the lives of these individuals who have come into existence do not make up for those lost, it is something worth celebrating. every single one of these babies will be born with a little soul…a beating heart…potential for light inside, carrying unlimited potential to make this world a brighter place. like the old christian lyrics say, “this little light of mine, i’m gonna let it shine.”

for some of these new infants, the burdens of circumstances and certain people may cause their lights to dim over the years. some will burn out altogether. but sometimes it takes days or months or years of walking through the dark to realize we’re tired of being lost, that with God, we’re capable of so much more. that these lights inside of us aren’t meant to make us happy alone, but to comfort us when we are sad, to bring us hope, to give us the ability to endure, to show us what everything means.

i’ve visited the dark and the light, and every hue of grey in between. something tells me the process of hills and valleys won’t end here now, with this or that…but it’s ongoing. the beauty of Christ is the forgiveness, redemption, restoration and healing that gives men and women the hope of rediscovering that beautiful, peace-filled part of them that was once there. if the light has ever dwelled in you…if the fire has ever been even a spark…all we need is the breath of God to blow against the embers. every single person — me, you, your parents, your kids, the people you work with and go to school with…i don’t care who you are, the love of God is a moment away.

i’m still in the process of working my way out of the dark right now, trying to re-ignite that hope within. i want to be a blessing to others. i want to lead by example and influence others to stay positive. i want to appreciate the little gifts in big challenges. i want an intimate relationship with inspiration - finding it, feeling it, sharing it each day. i want to pursue the passions God has given me, conquer my fears, and get to know real joy in an ever deeper way than before.

what no one can and should do is exhaust themselves by trying to hold up the sun. the sun will set and the sun will rise, and our God will still be here — unchanging.

“breathe on me, breath of God. fill me with life anew…”

i lie down to sleep; i awake, for the Lord sustains me.

i had a dream last night. it was phenomenal. my love of this dream is three-fold, really.
first, because it was about me having a baby. as some already know about me, i’ve never really liked babies for the longest time, and then over this past semester, i fell in love with little children and infants. i think it was my social work classes. in a couple of them, we spent a lot of time focused on child abuse, and God really softened my heart. now when i look at children/babies i’m “awww”-ing with the rest of the baby-loving world.
i also loved this dream because i have nightmares fairly frequently. i’ve done about everything someone can think of to get rid of them — i’ve changed my diet, sleeping patterns, taken different medications and talked with professionals. but for now, they’re here to stay. so every now and then i get a random dream like this — one that has nothing to do with anything that scares me to death — and i think, i can die happy now.
the final thing i loved about this dream is how vivid it was. when i woke up and realized there wasn’t an infant lying around anywhere in my college dorm room, i was actually kind of disappointed. for a second anyway.

the dream.

i don’t remember who got me pregnant or if he was around, but i don’t think he was. i know i wasn’t married. i also don’t remember carrying the baby or giving birth (thank goodness). the first thing i remember is the doctor putting the baby in my arms and julie being in the delivery room, telling me it was a girl and i “did a great job”. i remember looking through the window of the delivery room and staring at her. i remember falling in love with her and saying i had to announce at church that i had a baby girl now. at one point i was at home and i couldn’t find her. i freaked out before i found my parents in a room, holding her and talking about how beautiful she was. a lot of the dream was focused on naming the baby. annalyssa and julie were sitting at a table discussing names. i really wanted to name her “scout” after the character in to kill a mocking bird, which is funny because i want to do that in the real world. i remember being embarassed because she was born but i still hadn’t named her. i wrestled with middle names, thinking about naming her after my mom, kimberly. but i don’t like the name kimberly. then i started to wonder if “scout” as a first name was too masculine. specifically, i remember telling julie and annalyssa i couldn’t really see a woman at a miss america pagaent being named scout. so i began to doubt myself. then i woke up.

i can’t wait to have a baby.

sometimes it’s not so much what you do but how you do it. or with what heart.

over this past semester, i became really passionate about advocating for victims of sex trafficking. anyone who’s known me for any certain amount of time would know this about me.
i’ve been thinking about how God uses our passions vs. how satan uses them.
for example, God has used this passion He’s put in me to serve. He’s making me a vessel for His glory, helping me love Him by loving other people. and i know that wanting to be in the thick of things like i do doesn’t happen for everyone. i’m thankful for it. i genuinely love it for it’s own reward — to live like Jesus.
i want to live like Jesus, but that doesn’t always happen.

even in serving like i am trying to do, i miss the mark…get sidetracked…sin.

i think my original interest in abuse of women is obvious. it stems from a lot of history in my family. and i think my desire to advocate for victims comes from a lot of the desire i have to be helped and pushed along the way.
unfortunately, there are many days where i wake up burnt out. i realize i’ve been doing so much and trying so hard in certain areas to distract me from things i should be praying about or other things i should be working on. sometimes i push myself with things like ica because i’m not confident in any other area, and i feel like this is the only area i can’t fail. sometimes i think i’m interested in people who’ve gone through all this stuff because it makes my life feel more normal. sometimes i think i want to be a counselor because i can’t or don’t want to fix my own problems…and fixing other people’s seems like a better solution.
all this stuff.

i realize i’ve fallen in to these wrong mindsets/heart issues when i find myself saying something to someone that i know i should be telling myself. or when i fail in serving and realize that temporarily feeling helpful isn’t the cure for constant insecurity. or i’m convicted of selfish motives when i should be paying attention to the person i’m serving.

it’s amazing to me how satan can use our strengths and passions that God has given us as gifts…as tools to distract us and distance us from God. all we have to do is let satan and he will do it.

i love serving. but God needs to be my source of satisfaction, security, trust, change and sacrifice.

and i’m not talking the “would you like fries or a salad with that?” waitressing that i do. i’m talking about putting others before yourself, fighting for a cause, raising awareness about issues bigger than yourself, being humbled, feeling small…all that.

last few days = stress. sadness. kinda want to crawl into a hole somewhere and die. nothing too dramatic.

but then tonight we put on this international crisis aid bracelet making night at my church. i thought like, 10 people would show up. nope! 38. i thought we’d make like, maybe 50 bracelets. nope! over 200. this is what i love to do. and it doesn’t have to be making bracelets or advocating for victims of sex trafficking, but anything that’s doing SOMETHING…making some kind of a difference…and getting other people to help too…it feels good and productive and God-honoring. why don’t i do this more? it makes my life. i love it.

aaaand not to mention, we raised over 2,000 dollahs worth of bracelets for ica! hollahhh!

can i do this stuff for the rest of my life? please?

(if you want a bracelet, let me know!)

but who will advocate for me?
who has ever fought for me? demanded my rights? protected my heart? my body? who has taken part of the burden of overcoming this?

i endure, i fight, i overcome, i am the one who ends up overwhelmed.

i hate being alone.

please, God. stay close. tell me what You want from me.

the number of babies aborted since it first became legal 38 years ago, today.

today i was talking to someone about the anniversary of roe vs wade and she said “i believe abortion is wrong, but i also believe it should be kept legal.” so i asked “why do you think abortion is wrong?” this person answered “well, because it kills an innocent human being.”

“so you believe that killing an innocent human being should be kept legal?”

so many people do not understand their thoughts or what they are communicating. saying abortion is wrong but that we should permit it, as obama has, is contradictory and ignorant.
abolitionists did not say “we believe slavery is wrong, but we would have liked for it to remain legal because people are going to have slaves anyway.”

if we really believe abortion is destroying human life, we have to fight it from all angles and that includes the law.

i am pro-life.

• woke up and did my quiet time
• dressed for work: apron? check.
• went to work and served for about 6 hours
• came home and got dressed again
• talked to my little sister emily for a long time
• ate “pad see-ew” at aroy thai with karyn and julie
• got a tall skinny vanilla latte at starbucks with julie
• picked up pottery we painted at the pottery barn
• picked up lydia from basketball
• watched “mirror has two faces” with julie
• sent a few messages and emails
• called annalyssa
• tumbled.

[tumblr post 100]

i was supposed to be happy.

i was confused.
so hurt.
so young.
it’s hard to stay strong when you’re twelve.
still, i couldn’t let anyone see me cry. i used to be like that, you know. no one ever saw me upset.
so i tore out of the house and into the backyard, over the fence…running until i reached the playground at the school behind our house. i didn’t know what i was doing. i didn’t know anything. pretty soon i was swinging. back and forth, my legs echoed the rhythm of my heart.
still, i did not cry.
i pumped my legs faster and harder this time. i imagined myself soaring to new heights. i felt free and wonderful. there’s something about it that was exhilerating. but then i imagined myself going too far…too high. i imagined myself flipping over the bar that held me. i imagined me falling head first to the ground. my legs stopped. my feet met gravel.
i’d come back down to reality, as i almost always do.
nearby i saw a pencil and notebook lying on the ground. as i flipped through it, i found that every page was crisp and new. blank and empty.
suddenly i found my hand guiding the pen across the paper. i don’t even remember what i wrote. all i remember was the beginning and the end: “Dear God,” and “Love, Susanna”.
i folded it up and threw it in the air. the wind caught it and it flew, just as i had before on the swing.
only this time i truly believed it would never fall.

i think that was the first of the letters i gave to God. and one of the last.

today i wrote Him again.
it was exhilerating. i felt free.

i wasn’t scared.
i was in love.

1. pin your wings - copeland
2. folding chair - regina spektor
3. thankful - cademons call
4. zombie - the cranberries
5. turn it off - paramore
6. wake up the world - jj heller
7. hand in glove - the smiths
8. suite for solo cello no. 1 in g major - yo-yo ma
9. my broken heart - noah and the whale
10. ridin’ in my car - she & him

-martin luther king jr.

today makes me think of how angry martin luther king jr. would be if he’d been around to see the 71% of women in ethipoia being victimized physically and sexually. or the 10,000 children who have been abducted for josef kony’s army in uganda. or the 3,700 abortions that occur everyday in america. …just to name a few “incidents”.

what mlkj did for america will never go unnoticed. his determination and declaration for justice is something that will always be looked on with admiration, affecting nearly everyone and will continue to for centuries.
but sadly, slavery and the oppression of those which certain people find below average, too different, or weak is NOT OVER. the battle against the evils of victimization has had certain victories, but is NOT YET WON.

praying.

i was thinking about whether or not to make any new years resolutions this year and what they would be if i were to make them. as you can see, it’s taken me quite some time to put a finger on anything, as it’s now january 16 and i am just posting about it. i think as i get older i start to realize some important life things which i consciously or perhaps subconsciously resolve to pay attention to. for example, you are never too old (or young) to pull your underwear out of your butt and lighten up. going to bed with your make up on is always a bad idea. and if anyone tells you that sitting in front of youtube watching stupid videos for 3 hours is a bad idea, they’re probably right.
it’s these sorts of little “life lessons” that make me realize again and again how far i have to go.
for my birthday this past summer i resolved a few things:
1) don’t date for a year
2) seek out more friendships with girls
3) go to counseling
by the grace of God, i’ve accomplished all 3 so far. but with the new year comes that new feeling. that start over feeling, like it’s time to make some things right. for a long time now i’ve held on to a lot of immaturities and stubborness. i want to grow in to the right kind of woman, and this past semester has helped push me along.

1.) i want to cook more. if my mom read this, she’d be calling me every day to make sure i didn’t burn greenville down. the truth is, i’ve always hated cooking, and justified my hatred for it by my lack of skill. the problem is i rarely do anything to gain any sort of skill. i also think i end up so flustered and awkward in the kitchen because i feel incompetent. i know ability will come with better confidence.
another reason i want to cook more is because i always had serious battles with food growing up. unhealthy ones. and i feel like another way of me saying “look, ma, i’m becoming a healthy person” is to face that fear head on. in other words, i am grabbing this “cooking monster” by the bullhorns. with gusto.

2.) i want to read 25 books. every year i set some standard for myself about reading. it’s easy to get sidetracked with tv and school and life. but it’s good for me to return to one of my first, most passionate loves, and remember what it does for me.

3.) i want to be more of a girl. i want to feel the freedom to wear flowers on my shirts and put on a dress just because. i want to wear shorts (i haven’t done that since i was about 15 years old). i want to wear light pink and have a bow on my headband if i’m in the mood. for a long time my wardrobe has in some way been a reflection of how i feel about myself. but i’m ready to move on.

4.) i can’t hide anymore. i want people to know who i am so they can know who He is.

5.) give faithfully to international crisis aid’s (www.crisisaid.org) safe program for the rescue and rehabilitation of victims of sex trafficking. this is mainly talking about financially, but also with my time and my (wo)man power. i want to help out in every way i can.

it’s funny to me that it took so long for me to resolve what i wanted to resolve to do. (figure that one out.) — because i feel like this list is still in the works…that more will be on it soon. and that’s okay. i think i like looking for ways to better myself and better my relationship with God. i’ll never really reach the “finished” point. not until life itself is over.
nothing wrong with that.

i suppose that technically you could say my first love was john beck. he was dark and tan and athletic. he was a rebel, disrespectful and always getting into trouble. but i thought he was exciting and funny and interesting. he was a flirt and i loved it. but since i was only in junior high, i’m not sure he counts.

my first and only real love…as in, the only guy i ever loved, was adam gaxiola. he was sweet and crazy about me and so nice. he was broken and we had the same likes and dislikes about so many things. he was mushy and loved to talk. i truly did love him.
my first kiss was at the end of september 2009, after 2 months of our dating. up until that point i hadn’t felt comfortable kissing yet, but when i was away seeing a friend, he texted me and asked if he could kiss me when i got back. i’d thought and prayed about it and felt fine with it. plus, i just wanted to kiss him. when i got back that night, he came over and we took a walk, ending up at a baseball diamond on the bleachers. it was pretty awkward at first, because we both knew it was about to happen, and it was weird for me because i started to think he wasn’t going to do it. we’d been talking a whole hour and i needed to get back home soon. finally i sent the message: “well, i should head home…” adam told me not to go and positioned himself closer to me on the bench. i started to say it was getting late, but then he cupped his hand on my face and kissed me. it was longer than a peck and a whole lot shorter than a makeout, but it was sweet and wonderful and it felt right. after i walked home with him and went inside, i ran in my room, into my closet, shut the door and called my friend megan. she and i giggled and squeeled as i shared all the details of what i felt was a perfect first kiss.
i don’t really regret my first love or my first kiss. there are a lot of sweet memories associated with both, and the bad memories are being used for the good. though i would change a lot if i could do it all over again, i can’t change any of it. so i am pressing on.
i am growing.
i’m single now, and i’m not out looking for someone to make me happier. i’m pursuing God alone to fulfil my wants and desires.
i have been praying about the idea of saving my next kiss until i’m engaged, too. a lot of struggle and distractions came with that first kiss, and i want to kiss a man, knowing that there is some sort of strong commitment set in place…a glimmer of a promise that he will be the one i will marry.

-corrie ten boon

i pray…
it is filled with hope in Jesus.
it is consumed with the light of Christ.
it is filled with laughter and joy.
it is the product of much restoration and healing.

i am guided by a faith i can’t touch, but feel.
i am a safe place for those who are broken, humbled, and strung out.
i present myself in love, helping those who are confused, frustrated, or forgotten.
i am not judgemental or prideful, but one committed to serving.

to trust in God, who will give me wisdom and strength if I ask for it.
to trust in God, who will give me peace as I pursue it.
to trust in God, who will help me love the unlovable.
to trust in God, who’s plans are greater than mine.