2014 and all it's lessons

The end of the year is drawing near. Reflection starts early for me, especially this year. This year has been one hell of a year. It has been a year of refining and I'm happy to say I'll be entering into 2015 better and stronger than I entered 2014.

Since it's been a very active year, I wanted to share with you the things I have learned that stick out the most for me this year:

1. Change is stressful. Good change. Bad change. Doesn't matter, it's all stressful.

2. Enjoy people while they are in your life. Even if it's a first date, drink in each moment with that person. Don't worry about the future. Don't worry about whether you are compatible. If the conversation makes you forget about the time, DRINK IT ALL IN. To really enjoy a conversation with someone is rare. If they are in your moment, they are meant to be there, don't question it. Don't let thoughts of the future take you away from that moment, you'll never get it back.

3. Don't be afraid to speak the truth. Even if there is no evidence just yet, if everything in you tells you to say it. SAY IT.

4. Stay away from liar's, they are no good for you. Except leggings, allow leggings to lie about the size of your waist line all day, everyday. (If you want the truth, wear jeans. Those bastards don't lie.)

5. When life has taken everything out of you, listen to music without words. It will restore you.

6. There's a balance in loving yourself and loving other people. Remember that one is not greater than the other.

7. Don't be so hard on yourself. You can only learn by moving and moving will create mistakes, but whatever you do, DON'T STOP MOVING. You can only do great things if you are moving.

8. Don't feel like you have to fix everything. Somethings are still beautiful broken.

9. Don't be afraid to feel. Even if it doesn't make sense and everyone would look at you like you're crazy if you fully expressed the intensity of what you feel. Great music and poetry are born from the deepest corners of every emotion.

10. If you knew all the answers life would be boring. It's the mystery that each day holds that makes getting out of bed more enticing.

11. Treasures can be found in each new day. It can be found in the sunrise, conversations, the warmth of a sun ray, a hug from a friend, a text from a stranger. Wake up each day with the anticipation of discovering your treasure of the day. I promise there is one waiting for you.

12. Always fight to find comfort in being alone. You'll enjoy company more when you want to be around them, rather than needing to be around them.

13. You will relapse in something. You will. Don't beat yourself up. You got out once, you'll do it again.

14. There are ugly truths about yourself and beautiful truths. Just like a painting has to use bright and dull colors, it's the whole picture that matters in the end. Don't focus so much on just the bad or just the good. It's you as a whole that matters and you're beauty comes from the twist and twirls of both the good and bad.

15. If anyone ever dares to look at you and see the very depths of your soul, don't stop them. Don't stop their sea glass eyes from looking into your heart. Don't stop them by correcting them or defending yourself. Sit and listen to what they have to say. They are giving you gifts that you will find yourself unwrapping over and over again. And with all the regrets you might find yourself collecting in your life, you'll never regret holding your tongue in that moment. You'll be thankful you listened.

16. You're human. For real. Never forget, YOU ARE HUMAN.

17. You have a choice in everything you do. This is YOUR story. Everyday you wake up and choose who you want to be. You can't always choose your circumstances, but you ALWAYS have a choice in how you choose to react to your circumstance.

18. Friendship is a two way street. Don't expect things from people you wouldn't be willing to do yourself.

19. Find something you love and obsess over it. It's always worth it.

20. Don't always listen to your emotions, they tend to overreact and can skew reality. You are loved more than you feel 99% of the time.

Last but not least.......

This is not the end

Hallelujah 

It's only the beginning.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Table for one, please.

I walked into the restaurant. The hostess looked at me and asked, "How many?"

I replied, "Just me."

..............................................................................................

This weekend I dog sat for my dad in Nashville. I've done this before but I normally have friends come with me and we make a weekend out of it. We spend the weekend exploring Nashville and enjoying each others company.

With it being the holidays, people were busy with family so I embarked on the weekend alone.

A few years ago, right after I finished my undergraduate degree, I remember having a phone conversation with my step mom. I had just moved back in with my mom and was getting ready to start grad school. In the conversation, I remember my step mom telling me something that completely puzzled me at the time. As I was talking to her about the new changes of my life she made this small comment, she said, "Well if you think about it, you've never really been alone. I mean, you've always had a roommate or someone around."

I was puzzled by this at the time because I always associated 'being alone' as not having a boyfriend. At the time it had been over a year since I had dated someone and if you were to add up the time I dated people in college, my time single our weighed my time in a relationship.

I really chewed on this statement for a while. As life progressed and continued to change dramatically, it was always in the back of my mind. It finally clicked one day, she was right. My life has not been filled with boyfriend type relationships, but it's always been filled with relationships. In college I was rarely alone, I always had someone to hang out with, someone to do something with. Being back in my hometown, the crowd of people to be around was small again. I didn't have the selection I had created in college and the number of people to do something with had dropped dramatically.

After I quit my job with Youth Villages, I made an effort to start doing things by myself more often. I decided I needed to learn to be alone and not have someone constantly around me. It took me a good 2 years, but I finally felt I had conquered a huge accomplishment in my life. I had learned to be alone.

I finished grad school, life threw more curve balls I had not expected, and I found myself back into my old ways. This time, my need for attention was ten times worse than before. I started going further than I had ever gone before to be with people.

I woke up, realized what I was doing, and started working back to what took me two years to build up again.

I'm happy to say that I recovered pretty quickly. I've found the joy in being alone again, until this weekend.

I had been looking forward to the weekend. I had been looking forward to going to the art museum, Franklin, and to just adventure around the city alone.

It hit me out of no where. This deep anxiety and loneliness suppressed me like a damp wash cloth over the weekend. I found myself worrying over little things and not wanting to do anything by myself. I made myself go out and do things anyways, but I felt like everyone was watching me the whole time. I felt 10 pairs of eyes on me constantly, as if everyone was watching my every move.

I had originally planned to try out a new restaurant in Franklin, but I just couldn't get myself to go and sit somewhere alone. The thought of sitting alone in a restaurant just increased my anxiety. I had decided I would just pick something up and take it back to the house. As I'm driving back, I'm analyzing myself in my head. I'm trying to figure out why I was making such a big deal out of something that wasn't a big deal. "Emily, you do things alone all the time. What's going on, girl?!"

I get back into town and finally convinced myself how ridiculous I was being and decide to go eat at the a chinese place I had eaten at before with my dad and step mom.

I go inside, the hostess sits me, I order food, eat, and leave.

It wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all, so why had I been so anxious? Why had I freaked out about this whole thing?

It was in that moment that it hit me. I realized that the whole weekend I was feeling anxious about being alone because I was afraid people would wonder why I'm alone. I was afraid people would think something is wrong with me.

That has always been my underlining issue with being alone. I've always perceived people who are alone as something to be 'wrong' with them. That's the only reason they would really be alone, right? There has to be something that makes that person unlovable.

Truth is I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes, I struggle with things, but none of those things make me unlovable. I've had worries that have made certain things harder, but I've come to learn that all those things make me human, not broken.

My drive home yesterday helped me clear my head. I was bummed that I allowed my anxieties get in the way of a perfectly good weekend but as my phone rang and a number that is unknown, but really known, popped up I knew I had a choice. I knew if I answered I didn't need that person on the other end. I knew that loneliness is a bitch and it will crawl it's ugly talons back into my life on another day. With that in mind I let the call roll over to voice mail. I took a deep breath in and exhaled all the worries of the weekend out. "You're okay, girl." I whispered to myself. "You're okay."

Lighter Load

This is in response in an email I recently received:

This year, oh girl has it been one. I'm a totally different woman than I was this time last year. Hell, I'm a totally different woman than I was 8 months ago. This year has been a year of letting go. Letting go after letting go after letting go. What I have learned is very simple, short and to the point. I've learned that letting go makes you lighter and free. I have never felt more free in my life than I do right now. 

I thought I needed to hold onto everything, have control over everything in order for it to work in my favor, in order for it to turn out right but this year has proved me other wise. This year has shown me how freeing and beautiful letting go is, that half the reason I've been holding on were lies.

 I realized I made letting go a bigger monster than it really is. It's been like a tiger racing after me. I've run and run and run. Finally, I couldn't run any further. I lost all energy and fell to my knees. I sat there shaking, frozen, because the tiger was finally going to get me, it finally won. But to my surprise, when the tiger approached me it had no teeth and no claws. All it could do was roar and walk around me. It was never meant to hurt me.

That's what I've learned. I've learned that letting go was never meant to hurt us. The only purpose it serves is to give us a lighter load so that we can fly. 

At a time in the year to reflect what I'm thankful for, I can't help but to be overwhelmed with gratitude for the lighter load I'm walking around with these days.

Women, Math, and Love

I was riding in the car with a friend of mine this summer. As we were riding together, she was telling me about an event that had taken place between her and her husband that morning. As she's telling me the story, she makes the comment that she believes her husband is determined to find an equation that will help him to understand her. She then stated, "He's greatly mistaken by this idea, for there is no equation for me."

We both laughed in agreement that there is not and never will be a math equation in which women fit into to be understood.

Today love and relationships crossed my mind, as it does on most days. Being an analytical person and problem solver, I can't help but over analyze love. Much like my friends husband, I want to find an equation for love. I want to know that if I put a+b(c-d) I will get LOVE every time. 

I can't help but hear the same giggles and laughter from love, the same laughter my friend and I had when she mentioned the idea that women can be placed into an equation.

Here's the thing about love. Love has a few key ingredients that make it unpredictable. Love is made of mercy, grace, and forgiveness. When these three things are thrown into the mix, absolutely anything is possible. Wounds are healed, hearts are changed, minds gain new vision. They are the game changers. They are what make love so exciting. They are what make people sit for hours writing poems about love. They are what make us look into the face of a stranger and think "can I find love in you?"

For love has no face. Love can not be kept as a mere definition. Love is too big and too strong for a simple solution, simple equation. When you are as big as love, anything is possible.

When working with teenagers, love is always the topic of choice. I hear stories after stories of love and how it came together and how it fell apart. I sit and listen to each of them as they tell me their story. I sit and I show excitement in the exciting moments and show sadness in the sad ones. But the whole time I can't help but think, "You're missing it, dear. You're missing what love really is."

Sometimes I wish love were an equation. If it were, I would print them on business cards and pass them out to every person I came in contact with. It would make spreading love a whole lot easier. But the fact that love is not easy and cannot be printed out makes it so thrilling. It's what makes it worth waiting for and fighting for. 

Love is a big mystery and that's what makes it so enticing. 

Insecurities.

Comma splices.

Run on sentences.

Grammatical error.

These are just a few of the things I'm sure I do in EVERY SINGLE BLOG POST.

In school, English was never my strongest subject. I heard time and time again how I write like I talk and how that's not the proper way to write. I remember sitting in my 10th Lit class in high school telling myself that I was going to focus and finally understand this thing called grammar. But it never mattered how hard I focused, I just didn't get it.

"Why can we just not write how we think?" This was always my underlining questions as I tried to understand the English language and all the rules that come with it.

I'll never forget. I'll never forget the one day when my confidence changed. I was in my 11th grade American Lit class. By this point I had accepted the fact that the rules of grammar and I would never be friends. I loved words and I loved to communicate, but I had decided that writing just wasn't my thing.

I remember having a creative writing assignment. More specifically, we had to use imagery in this particular writing assignment. I chose to write about the beach. I remember breaking down the experience of going to the beach and writing it onto my paper.

When our teacher passed back our papers, I had received a 100 on this paper. Not only did I receive a 100 but he had written a compliment on the paper, telling me how well I written the paper.

I was blown away. I had never received a compliment on my writing before. Yet, here it was.

This was just the beginning of a whole new genre of writing for me. We eventually began to learn about poetry and I found myself writing poem, after poem. I begin looking up poems online and reading them. I wrote poems about the boy who I had a crush on in school. I wrote poems about friends. I wrote poems about being bored. Poetry and I had fallen madly in love with each other.

I never thought I would find love in literature, yet here I was. In love.

I remember sharing some poems I had written to a person I cared deeply about at the time. I'm a deep person and these poems were deep for me. I don't share the few poems I've written to many people, because they are like microscopes to my heart.  The person never again, for as long as I knew them, asked me about my poems again. They never asked if I wrote more. They never showed interest so I slowly buried that part of myself.

When I first started blogging, I made it very clear that I'm not a grammar person and made an apology in advance. Though I've gotten better, it's still not my strong suit.

Do you know what I've learned though? I've learned that even in my weakness, I can be used. Even if I'm not the grammar queen of this world, God can still use my rebellious way of writing.

I started blogging hard core this year due to the struggles I've encountered. I found myself in a deep journey to reconnect with myself, reconnect with who I am, and writing has been a major part of that process. It has helped me to clear my head, to think clearer, and most importantly, to help me be honest with myself.

I have found that through metaphors and rhythmic words, I have a way to portray the truth. I have a way to write the truth down. If it's written down, I have no other choice but to stare at it. I have no other choice but to go back and read it, over and over again. I can't run from it.

It's been amazing to see how God has used me through this. Over the past few months, I have had more than one person send me a message to tell me how grateful they are for the things I have been writing. People I haven't seen or spoken to in years have sent me messages telling me thank you for my positive attitude and positive words. I have been so overly struck and humbled by these words. I had no idea that my words were really being heard by people. I had no idea that what I was saying and going through was being used as stepping stones to help others get through their own fog. I had no idea.

I've had something wrote Paul play over and over in my head recently where he says, "For when I am weak, then I am strong." For he boasted that in his weakness, Christ power is the strongest.

I'm just blown away how God has used my weakness and insecurity in writing to make positive impacts for people. I am beyond thankful. For all I could ever want for each person, whoever reads this, I want good for you. Nothing but sweet, sweet goodness for you.

So I'll apologize to the grammar Nazi’s and grammar kings and queens of this world. I'm sorry for the twitches and tiny heartbreaks I give you every time I break a beautiful grammatical rule, but I'm not stopping. I'm not going to stop expressing my heart to you. I'm not going to stop telling you about the beautiful colors I see every day. I'm not going to stop telling you about the goodness, the heartbreak, the tears, the joys, I experience in this life.

I can promise that I'm working on how I write. I learn by example and reading other people's writing helps tremendously.

God tells me too many good things to keep from sharing them with you. My heart has too much love in it to allow something as little as my insecurities keep me from expressing it. My words might not be perfect, but I can promise you this one thing: they are true.

Love Sets Us Free

"I have to tell him."

I told myself this as I was driving home from work, lost in music, and lost in my own mind.

"I have to be honest. I can't be afraid to tell the truth."

I kept driving home, on the back roads of north Georgia, my window cracked. It was a random warm day in fall. I felt the sun sweeping in through the window and counteract the cold air coming in through the cracked window of the car.

I started taking in the colors of the tree's as I passed them, noticing their vibrant colors, I started drinking in the music as it danced it's way from the speakers to my ears. I was focusing on anything other than the words I needed to say.

I finally worked up the nerve. I finally convinced myself that I needed to say it.

"God, I know you are all I need. I know this but I need to be honest with you. I need to tell you the truth. It doesn't feel that way. I'm not sure I truly believe that you are enough."

There. I said it. I told God exactly how I felt.

Here's something I've come to learn about my relationship with God. I'm really quick to tell him the right answers. I'm like that little girl in Sunday school who is halfway asleep most of the time but when I actually pay attention and actually know the answer to a question, I can't help but blurt it out. I know the answer and I know it's right, therefore, I want to make sure everyone knows I know the 'right' answer.

This isn't working out for me. This 'right answer' living. It isn't working.

It's time I get into the mud, get dirty, and be HONEST with God. Tell him what I really think, even if it's not the right way to think. I need to tell him when I don't truly believe in something.

Because if I've learned anything about God lately it's that His love is bigger than us. His love is bigger than our doubts, our screw ups, our minds, etc. It's beyond comprehension and even though he's the first and only who has the right to judge me, He'll most likely be the last, that is if he hasn't already forgiven and forgotten about what I have done.

I've so badly wanted love to be a clean cut deal. I've so badly wanted it to be something that I could carry in my pocket and pick out when needed. But it's not the small and it's not that simple. Love is big and complicated and confusing and uncomfortable and most of all, IT'S FILLING. It's not a sugary substance that makes you feel good for the moment, but hungry later. No, that's not love. Love if a massive steak that makes you full for the next 3 weeks. Love breaks you where you need to be broken. Love calls you out in the area's you need to be called out in. But love is ultimately on your side. And through the breaking and burning away of the harmful sores we've allowed through love impostors, love takes away everything that has been holding us back. Love breaks us free from the chains and allows a freedom we never knew existed before.

Love sets us free.

It's set me free to the point that I can be real with God. I don't have to know all the right answers and I necessarily do not have to believe all the right answers. I can be honest and trust that if I'm struggling in believing something, I do not have to guilt myself, I do not have to hide. I can come before God, admit where I am and trust he'll take things from there.

What a beautiful place to be in. It's so beautiful.

We lose.

We lose.

At some point in time, in this life, you will lose something.

It might be a pen, keys, your mind, a job, a dream, a person.... Whatever it might be, the truth is that you will experience loss, multiple times, through out this life.

Even though we lose at times, we also gain.

I tend to just focus on the things I lose. I fixate on the losses of my life, wondering, and guessing why I lost these things, this person, etc. This is actually a horrible habit of mine. I will fixate on the things I have lost as if I was entitled to those things. As if the things, people, circumstance that entered my life that I put my hands on, my fingerprints onto, are mine to keep.

I fixate to the point that I get bitter about losing. I get bitter, mad, and begin to demand answers. I put my hands on my hips, look up to God and demand an explanation.

"Why would you bring me this just to take it away. WHY?!"

Well, God answers, but not as I always expect him to.

"I give and I take away. Find a heart thankful for both."

Find a heart grateful for both.

To thank God for what he gave, even though he took it away.

To thank God, even though you had to let go of something so beautiful.

It's not worth the bitterness to hold on. It's not worth the poison that seeps in with bitterness. It's just not worth it.

It's continuing in the act of letting go. It's thanking God for allowing a moment, even if it was short lived. It's finding beauty in that small moment and being grateful you were blessed with it for a short while.

For everything is a gift, we are not entitled to everything. God gives us good things, God gives us parts of him, but God knows us and he knows the timing we need with it to make it just enough. So I choose gratitude. Gratitude that God trusted me, for that small moment, with that sweet, sweet gift.

She Knew

She laid in bed alone with only the hum of the fan in the room. She could still smell the reminense of the candle she had blown out minutes ago.

As she felt the warmth of her skin linger into the covers she thought about you. She tried remembering your words, but she couldn't. She tried remembering your warmth, but it had faded. She could only remember fragments of you. Pieces that really never fit together.

As she continued to lay in bed and allow the heaviness of her eyes to take over, she began to feel a peace and gratitude overwhelm her heart.

You were never meant to stay, boy.

She knew, you were never meant to stay.

It's hard being human

Tonight, I cooked dinner for myself, I danced and sang to Delta Rae while baking banana nut bread. I watched some of my favorite shows on Hulu. I found myself at the end of the night, laying on my couch, lights off, candles lit, music playing, reading beautiful words on my screen, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude and happiness in my heart.

8 months ago, I wouldn't have been this happy to be alone. You can't be alone when you're running from something inside of you. Being alone with yourself becomes near impossible.

8 months ago, I wouldn't have been here. It's amazing what can change in just 8 months. The trees might still have the same leaves, the colors of the wall might be the same, the amount of miles that are driven might be the same, yet, everything is different.


The colors in the sky stand out more. You never knew there could be so many colors in one day. You never noticed how beautiful words can be. You never noticed how you always feel like you have to have an answer, always. You never thought you could experience freedom like this.

Freedom.

I always heard people speak of it. People write poems about freedom. People write songs about freedom, but you never really knew it existed until now.

Life is hard. We don't say that enough.

Life. Is. Hard.

We're quick to point out how we're not handling life right or what we're doing wrong. We're quick to try to fix the hardness and make things softer rather than embracing the hardness.

Life is hard. I found myself saying that over and over to people. As tears came streaming down sweet little faces this week, I found myself saying over and over again, "Life is hard, hon. Life is hard." And with each sweet face, with tears streaming down their cheeks in different directions, they each nodded their head in agreement.

Why have I never said that before? Why have I not just called it out. It's always been there. It's always sat in the room with me, no matter who the person was, it's always been there. Why do we not just admit together, LIFE. IS. DAMN. HARD.  

Instead we want to point fingers. Instead we want to convince ourselves that it's really easy and that we are somehow getting it wrong.

Well please let me clear that up for you.

No. It's not easy. No. It won't ever become easy. The minute things become easy, you'll lose interest. You'll stop growing.

Even though it's not easy and it's hard, it's doable.

Let me say it again. IT'S DOABLE.

You WILL get over this rough patch. You WILL get through the trials. You WILL find joy and happiness. Just because you do not have it in your hands right now, doesn't mean it's not on its way.

And you always, ALWAYS have a choice. You might not have a choice in the type of circumstance that come your way, but you always have a choice in how you handle it.

YOU HAVE A CHOICE IN HOW YOU DEAL WITH THIS HARD LIFE.

Please, don't ever forget that.

No matter what, you are not trapped. You might be in a dead zone in solving it, but you are not trapped. Talk to someone. Believe me, I get trapped in my own mind at times and it's amazing how someone else's perspective can pull me out, get me moving again. Don't be afraid to be honest about how you feel. Don't be afraid to be honest with yourself.

That's where my freedom began, it began in me tearing down the walls and being honest with myself. I had to look at all the junk in my life and admit it was junk. It wasn't antique store material, it was JUNK. I had to allow myself to be human and to feel.

Emotions are hard. They are hard to handle and hard to deal with, but whatever you do, DO NOT RUN FROM THEM. They cleanse you, they purify you. They get all the old shit laying around and they GET IT OUT OF YOUR BODY. Just like sweating helps detox the body, I believe expressing emotions in a healthy manner detox's our mind. They are always uncomfortable in the process and if you're anything like me, you look like a total idiot when you are having a full on emotional moment. But do it anyways. You'll feel a difference in yourself down the road.

I can't thank God enough for who he's creating me to be. He finds a way to love me. Everyday, he finds a new way to love me.

Stranger Love

Rain was sprinkling the Monday ground. Traffic was bumper to bumper due to the slick roads. You came to my mind, as you do from time to time. I've learned to brush you off, but on this cold, wet morning you lingered longer than normal.

I remember that moment. I was in this very seat and I heard it rush out of you. You didn't realize the words that were coming out. You didn't know the weight or the impact of those words. You didn't know words could weigh so much. I didn't know they could weigh that much either.

I remember how I went numb, speechless. I'm never speechless, I alway have something to say. But in that moment, all I could do was listen. All I could do was sit and pick up each piece of gold you were throwing out at me. That's why they weighed so much, they were gold nuggets.

Then it hit me. I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but it hit me as I sat in traffic on a slick road full of red brake lights.

You were a stranger.

You never felt like a stranger, from the moment I met you, you never felt like a stranger to me.

But you were. You hadn't known me long enough to know the things you knew. We only had a few late night conversations under our belt, but not enough for you to see what you saw. I let people see what I want them to see, but you went deeper. You saw past the closed door.

You were a stranger that night. A stranger who poured a weight of love onto me. A love that is normally only conceived through years of conversation, minutes upon minutes of countless moments. 

But our moments were few, our time was limited and yet, I've never felt more love. 

I'll always remember that night. The night I was given pure love from a stranger. I'll always remember how I didn't know how to receive it. I didn't know how to take a love like that and tuck it away. Love changed for me that night. It took on a new face, it took a new name. All because of a stranger. All because of one stranger.

Blankets of Colors and Metaphors

I'm a nerd.

It's true.

I love what I do and I love learning more about what I do.

When I was in school, I took a class where we took a particular career assessment called the Holland Assessment. Our professor actually had us do our own assessment of ourselves before taking the actual assessment.

I remember her reading off the different categories. When she read the one for Social, I knew that was me and didn't give much thought to any other category. When I found out we had to pick a total of three categories, I was baffled. I had no idea what to pick for the other two. I remember finally picking Artistic as my second choice.

The things is, I've never seen myself as artsy. I love everything about art. I love painting. I love music. I love poetry. And yet, I never saw myself as artsy.

Even though when I was a kid, I was all about coloring, drawing, painting.

Even though when I was in the 11th grade, my American Literature teacher made me fall in love with poetry and I found myself writing poems upon poems that year.

I have been obsessed with music as far as I can remember. I enjoy creating things.

Yet..... yet.... artsy was never a word I used to describe myself.

I recently started revisiting this part of myself. I can't describe to you how it feels to express myself through poetry again. I cannot describe the joy I feel when I sit in my bed (yes, in my bed) and pull out my little paint brushes and watercolors and watch as the colors collide and bleed into one another.

Finding this side of myself has been so liberating. It feels free to be here. To know there's a whole other side of myself, made of little pieces that just want to shine. They just want to shine.

I still wouldn't label myself as 'artsy', but I'm starting to claim it as a part of me. I'm making more room for it in my life.

I'm wrapping myself up in this thing called art. I'm lying in a blanket of colors and metaphors, smiling like a little girl on Christmas.

It feels good. It feels so good.

Sometimes

Sometimes,

You wake up and the warmth of your bed tells you to stay a bit longer.

Sometimes,

Your thoughts are like a never ending record, playing the same things over and over again.

Sometimes,

You can't help but smile.

Sometimes,

You can't help but keep smiling because nothing triggered that smile.

Sometimes,

Things break and you so badly want someone to come fix it.

Sometimes,

Someone will.

Sometimes,

You find the strength to do it yourself.

Sometimes,

You doubt your own ability to create.

Sometimes,

You look at yourself through others eyes.

Sometimes,

At the end of the day, when you are quieting your thoughts from your day, you hear a soft whisper that says, "You have no need to worry."

And sometimes,

You believe it.

For You.

"All you can do is love unconditionally."

Those were the words that came flooding out of my moms mouth. 

I was driving home, exhausted, and tears streaming down my face. 

I already feel things pretty heavily as it is but I feel them 10 times stronger when I'm tired. If all energy has been drained from this little body of mine, I tend to not have the energy to deal with my strong feelings and I can't help but overreact to how I feel. 

Loving unconditionally. That has been on my mind ever since those simple, yet not so simple, words found their way out of my mothers mouth into my ears. 

Unconditional love along with tragedy and truth. 

Unconditional love. Tragedy. Truth. An unlikely trio. 

Yet, they have been dancing in step with each other as if they were made for each other. As if their little feet are creating a symphony.

Maybe I think too much. Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it's a bad thing. 

All I know is that everyday I have to tell this little big heart of mine to love you. Everyday I have to let go of the things I can't control. 

If I've learned anything about unconditional love it's that control cannot be anywhere in the recipe. 

Everyday I think more about you than I ever want to admit. I think about the gray in your hair and how life, love, and tragedy brought it out. I can't stop thinking how beautiful it makes you. It makes you so beautiful.

Everyday I dream of ways for you to be happy. For you to leave the devastation of tragedy and find that you don't need an arm to hold onto. You don't need someone else's arms. I wish you could see the beauty and strength in that.

I'm not always good at letting go. It's my biggest downfall. But everyday I try and I'll keep trying. Because if there is anything I could ever want for you, if I could grant you one wish, I'd wish for goodness over you. I'd wish rivers upon rivers of goodness for you. 

I'm not sorry for feeling too much. I'm not sorry for being the girl who will run frantically into your direction and dramatically knock the cup of sorrow out of your hands. It's all because I want goodness for you. That's all I will ever want for you.

Tragedy.

Tragedy

Tragedy has been on my mind lately. It has taken human form and it has become a person in my mind. Neither male or female, it has taken form and shape and I watch it as it wonders.

I watch it walk around, sneaking up on the innocent, the arrogant, the prideful, the loveliest of all lovelies, and it strikes. The thing about tragedy, is when it strikes, it's strikes your very heart.

I don't care how strong of a person you are, tragedy will break you. Even the strongest rock in the world can't help but crumble when it's very core, it's stability is struck.

No one like tragedy. Tragedy brings nothing but scream, moans, and sharp shooting pains. Tragedy takes you to the center of who you are.

No matter how hard tragedy strikes, no matter the depths of its impact, I believe good can be found.

The heart. It strikes that heart of yours and it shows your true colors. It stirs up the bitterness, the anger, the pain and down falls of being human.

It's challenges everything you have stated you believed in. It tests that foundation of yours, it tells you what it's really made of.

Tragedy calls you out. Tragedy makes you see the truth. Every. Single. Time.

It makes you face the wickedness that lives in you. It makes you face it.

You'll never fall harder or faster than when tragedy hits.

Want to know who you really are? The ends and the outs of yourself? Invite tragedy in. It will show you.

I think of the story of Job and how he reacted when tragedy struck him. When it struck him again, again, and again.

Job questioned God. Job mourned, he cried, he asked why, but never once did he turn his back on him. Never once did he curse His name because Jobs foundation had God in  it. It was the solid ground in which he laid and wept on. He laid and wept and then was able to stand back up again.

As I've been thinking about tragedy, I couldn't help but think of something I said to a friend not too long ago, who texted me when she was feeling low.

Sometimes I surprise myself with the things that come out of me. They tend to come from the deepest, most tender part of me. A part of me that stays protected, so that it can always be soft and gentle.

In the midst of my friends low moment, these words came flowing out of my fingers into the text message box, "Even though it hurts, pain takes us to the very core of ourselves. It allows us into a place in ourselves we don't always want to go or always see. But it's in that pit, in that dark cold place that Gods love comes over us like a blanket and he says, ' I just want to love you. Right here, let me love you here.'"

I haven't been able to stop thinking about that after I sent that to her. How he just wants to love me, right in the middle of my wicked brokenness, he just wants to love me.

We ask God multiple times why he would bring tragedy upon us. Why he would take us to the lowest pit, why he allowed the fall.

I can't help but believe he allows it because that's where his love is the strongest. That's where the intensity of it is felt. It is there, in that pit of loneliness that we feel it and know that there is nothing, absolutely nothing in this world that we could ever do that would make His love change.

Absolutely nothing.

Lost In My Mind

My mind has been thinking about love lately. I've been thinking about what it's really suppose to look like and how you're suppose to know when you really encounter it.

Not just how to identify romantic love, but other types of love.

I mean, really, how do you know if someone loves you?

In a world where relationships and love are distorted through movies, books, social media, etc. Its hard to know what true love is and whether it really exist or not. 

I'm a firm believer that it exist and I truly believe it takes different forms. "True love", per-say, is not just a romantic relationship between two people. It's a friend relationship, its a parent child relationship, its a relationship between you and God. True love has many faces, yet we find ourselves looking for love only in romantic relationships. We believe we only have true love when we have a significant other holding our hand and telling us we look pretty when we cry. We have come to believe that the only satisfying relationship is romantic, that you are not fulfilled until you have found someone to validate you romantically. 

This breaks my heart. It breaks my heart because I've believed this lie. It hurts me when I find this little lie crawling back into my head. My heart trembles as I watch people I love look for validation in the arms of another person. Intense sadness fills my soul when a little high schooler walks into my office and believes he'll never amount to anything because in his 17 years of life, he's never had a girl agree to be his girlfriend.

Validation. It's something we long for. We look into the eyes of strangers, people we've never met, people who are just as human and broken as we are and we say, "Validate me."

What a weight to put onto someone who is just as fragile as we are. How dare we stare into the face of another and say, "I believe I'm nothing unless you tell me other wise."

What happens when that person leaves, whether by choice or by death. What happens when this person shows their human ways and screws up.

Divorce is not a foreign concept to me. It's been extremely present my whole life. I've seen relationships fall and break faster than a vase falling from a table. 

I've seen people jump from relationship to relationship, praying that this one will be right. Praying this person will complete me. 

There are many issues that cause relational issues but I have a theory that one of the main core problems is that we ignore the love we already have in our lives. We ignore the love we hold in our hearts that can be used to fill our own bones. We have love from a God who died so that he can pour mounds and mounds of love on top of us. Most us (if not all) have atleast one person in their life, whether it be a parent, sibling, friend, pet, etc.. who pours love, in the only way they know how to, onto us.

Yet, we dare to look these people in the eye and say, "that's not enough for me."

We dare to walk in our day to day lives and tell God through the actions of our longing for something on this earth that his love is not enough.

I've done it. I do it. No judgement here.

The truth is. The cold hard truth is that love, the love we have right now, is all we need. We don't need other people to validate us. We don't need a romantic relationship to tell us we are worthy of love. We hold that key ourselves. It's starts by believing it yourself rather than listening to the words and actions of other people in our lives. 

Whether you believe in God or not, I guarantee you that he shows you love in some way Every. Single. Day.

Sometimes I lay back and try to imagine things. I'll have visions and images come into my head. Some of these vision are ridiculously real. I feel the emotions of that moment, I feel the circumstances of my heart.

I've laid back and thought about living life so that I allow God to validate me and to live as if I truly believe it. I envision what this looks like and how this would form the condition of my heart. I then envision a romantic relationship entering into my life. To look into someone's eyes and know that I don't need them to make me feel good about myself. I don't need them to tell me I'm worthy. Then to hear these things anyways from someone who sees you and loves you, well it's only in my imagination, but I believe it's something worth striving for. 

Poor Girl

You've got another love

and I know it

Someone who adores you 

just like me

Hanging on your words

like they were gold

Thinking that she understands

your soul

                                                          Poor Girl

                                                                      Just like me.

You're breaking another heart

and I know it

And there's nothing 

I can do

If I try to tell her 

what I know

She'll misunderstand

and make me go

                                                           Poor Girl

                                                                      Just like me.

You're going to leave her too

and I know it

She'll never know

what made you go

She'll cry and wonder

what went wrong

Then she'll begin 

to sing this song

                                                           Poor Girl

                                                                      Just like me.

- Maya Angelou

Disappearance

It came out, one by one, it came out.

No one knows why she left, there are only whispers.

Some speak of another man who came a swept her off her feet.

Others claim she's gone mad and admitted defeat.

Some speak of deceit, they say she lied.

But you know the truth, you let it hide.

You sit and hear all the hums and the guesses. You even speak your two sentences.

Time will fade and so will talk, leaving you and I to never talk.

You let her name run wild, you let it be thrown in the mud.

For the truth lies in you, never to be touched.

Life. Love. And All The Above

It's amazing how life changes when you start focusing on moments. When you sit and really drink in those moments of pure laughter. The moments when music takes a fluid like form into your very soul. The moments when you feel, you really really feel.

I've been drinking in knowledge like it's a vital element for survival. Truth has become my best friend. Trust is a daily battle. Confidence comes and goes. I feel strong one day and weak the next.

As the sun rises and sets each day, I find myself learning new things about life:

- Getting out of bed is hard. No matter how early you go to bed.
- The colors God chooses to start the day off with make the battle to get up worth it. Every. Single. Day.
- Truth doesn't always give you the warm and fuzzy feelings. In fact, you rarely like truth at first, but it's the sweetest and deepest love you will ever experience once you accept it.
- Good people are rare and hard to find. Be selfless with these people. ALWAYS.
- Coldplay is perfect. Everyday. All day.
- Loving people, truly loving people hurts like hell some days.
- You can't be someone to everyone, but you can be someone for one. Divide your time wisely.
- Don't be afraid to think for yourself. Even if what you think is wrong, you're exorcising that unique brain of yours. We need your uniqueness, we don't need more copy cats.
- Poetry will change your life.
- Music will change your life.
- People will change your life.
- Don't be afraid to let change in.
- Dream big dreams.
- Never say, "It can't be done." You don't know that.
- Connecting with people is always worth it. Even if the connection is temporary. It's always worth it.
- Don't be so hard on yourself. You're human. Imperfection is in your DNA.
- Go to bed early if the opportunity presents itself.
- Stay up past your bedtime for conversations, apologies, concerts, fire pits, and star gazing.
- Star gaze every chance you can get. No matter the temperature outside.
- You'll only survive if you believe in a God who made you, loves you beyond comprehension, wants good things for you, and that he just wants to love you. He just wants to love YOU.

Hope

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

- Emily Dickinson 

Breaking Boxes

I love when my little box explodes.

The boxes I build out of the things I've seen, touched, been exposed to, and then use the little fragments to create a box that I can understand. A box I can hold.

The problem with this box is that it's never very big. The previous box is always smaller than the newer box but ultimately they're all small compared to the grander schemes of life.

I believe I've said this before but I'll say it again. I hate my boxes. I absolutely despise them.

But yet, time and time again I find myself building them. I always find myself going back, picking up the pieces of knowledge I can grab and building another box. Box after box after box.

I'm not a 100% sure why I do this. I mostly think it's just out of habit. Even though I hate the box, I'm comfortable with them. I've found comfort in the smallness they bring me and despite the fact that I want to shred them to pieces, they make me feel safe.

Because to be in the bigness of this life, to live without holding onto something you can see, touch, feel, means being uncomfortable. It means you have to be okay with the unknown and I'm not always okay with that. It means trusting that there is something bigger than you, something greater that loves you with a love so deep and wide that it will never give you more than you can handle, and I'm not always good at believing that.

So I've been in the process of shutting down the boxing business. I finally was honest with myself and chose to believe that I was made to live in the excitement and the adventures of the unknown. I decided to leave the box making business, that I despise, and live in the openness of the great unknown.

But here's the small problem. When you've been making boxes your whole life and that's all you know to do, it's hard to shut it down. You find yourself making boxes without thinking about it, it just comes so natural. Also, when you've been making boxes your whole life, you find boxes in corners of your life you never realized existed. So not only are you trying to stop making boxes but you're also having to find and destroy ones you've already made.

Today, as I was laying on the beach. God destroyed a huge box. I heard the explosion. It was amazing.

I was laying out enjoying the weather and reading Cheryl Strayed's book "Tiny Beautiful Things" which is a book full of letters written to her advice column Dear Sugar and her responses to them. I was reading a letter from a woman who was questioning God due to a tumor that was found in her 6 month old child. She was asking Sugar her advice on God and believing him.

Knowing that Cheryl Strayed is not a Christian, I was hesitant, yet intrigued to read her response.

I'll be honest, I didn't have high expectations on it. She's extremely blunt and knowing she doesn't believe in God, I expected a response that either redirected her from God or something along the lines that would influence more along the lines against God.

I was wrong. I was so wrong.

Box explodes.

Her response was amazing. My jaw literally dropped at some moments. I couldn't help but think, "this woman doesn't even believe in God, yet, she seems to see Him and understand him better than I do at times. And I'm the one that claims to know Him!"

How little of me to think God doesn't speak through someone, even if they do not believe in Him. How ignorant of me to think that she wouldn't have anything good to say.

I have to admit. I was a bit embarrassed after reading her response. Her response was beautiful. If I had been in that woman's shoes, the one questioning God, she would have sold me in the direction to God. This woman, who claims to not believe in God, would have led me a step closer.

Why? Because God doesn't just use believers. He doesn't just speak to people who know him, he does not live in a box. He's everywhere. He loves us and uses us, even if we do not know it. He still uses us.

I'm so thankful God doesn't live in a box and I'm beyond thankful that he uses everything and everyone to help mold me and unleash me into the depths of his presence.

These are a few quotes from her response that I really loved:
"To use our individual good or bad luck as a litmus test to determine whether or not God exist constructs an illogical dichotomy that reduces our capacity for true compassion. It implies a pious quid pro quo that defies history, reality, ethics,and reason. It fails to acknowledge that the other half of rising- the very half that makes rising necessary- is having first been nailed to the cross."

"Perhaps the good that can come from this terrifying experience is a more complex understanding of what God means to you so the next time you need spiritual solace you'll have something sturdier to lean on than the rickety I'll- believe- he- exist- only- if-he-gives-me-what-I-want fence."

"What if the greatest beauty of the day is the shaft of sunlight through your window? What if the worst thing happened and you rose anyway? What if you trusted in the human scale? What if you listened harder to the story of the man on the cross who found a way to endure his suffering than to the one about the impossible magic of the Messiah? Would you see the miracle in that?"

Trust

Trust requires letting go.

Trust starts with believing you can live without and still be perfectly fine.

Trust means you have to let go of your safety net, there is no safety net in real, full on trust.

Trust means you don't know what tomorrow brings and you're ok with that.

Trust means you are not holding onto the reins of your life, you've let go.

Let go, let go, let go, let go.

Letting go means you've stripped yourself of your comfort zone.

Letting go means discomfort and lots of it.

But what no one tells you, what everyone forgets to say in the discomfort, the screams, in the tears, in the heart ache that takes place in the act of trusting, letting go.

They forget to tell you the most important part, the part that makes it all worth while.

What's the real punch line in the act of trusting, in the pursuit of letting go?

FREEDOM.

You're not broken because of the change, you're FREE.

It's worth it.

The pain will become a memory, a memory of the process. The heartache will always show it's brutal scars but you won't care. You won't care at all.

Because for the first time in your life, you can be whoever the hell you want to be.

Because you're free.

FREE.

Good Fight

I was laying in bed last night absolutely exhausted.

I had been looking forward to curling up and falling asleep all day.

I finally reached the moment I had been waiting for and guess what.... my mind had other plans.

I'm all like "Yay! Sleep time!" and my brain goes, "Wait, I need to think about a million things before we fall asleep."

Miserable. It's the worst.

So here I am. Laying in bed. Desperately wanting to fall asleep but I can't.

I learned a long time ago to just not fight it, to go ahead and entertain some of the thoughts.

But these weren't good thoughts. These particular thoughts last night were thoughts of fear. In my exhaustion from a wonderful week in Atlanta, my mind decided to worry about whether I'll ever be able to trust again and how that will look.

As most know, when trust has been betrayed in your life, it's really hard to stand back up and do again. It becomes a battle. A battle to stubble through the mess and learn to trust again.

This morning I woke up and a sweet friend of mine had sent me an article that said this, "Get rooted in love and comprehend in greater detail all God has planned for your life. You will know what fight to fight and what fight to skip. Based on Paul's testimony, we know he said "I have fought a good fight." He referred to it as a "good fight of faith." What's a good fight? A fight you have faith sufficient to win. That's the one God will set up for you."

A good fight, that's what my struggle with trust is. For true love requires trust, it's apart of the foundation. I'm wanting my foundation to be smooth, to have nothing outside of who God is and who He has created me to be, trust has to be apart of it. Without it, nothing solid can ever be built.

The fight for trust, it's a good fight. And it's a fight he has set up for me to win. 

Hmmmmm..... I love that so much.

What's are you fighting for?

It's good to be back

My heart has been bubbling since last night.

I was able to enjoy the Fourth of July with a few close friends of mine. We laughed, played games, and enjoyed each others company through out the night.

After I left, I was overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed to be able to enjoy the company with friends again and to feel like myself.

That was the best. To feel like myself again. To laugh from the pit of my stomach. To allow my joy to rise to the surface and to express it in my overly energetic way.

It felt so good to be in my own skin again. To not have extra weight weighing on my heart. To have the worry of trying to make something work that isn't suppose to work. To not be hiding anything.

That's been the best part. Not hiding anything anymore.

My brother got really mad at me when I went off to college. He was mad because when I was in high school I told my mom exactly where I was going, who I was hanging out with, and exactly what we planned to do. I was always completely honest in this, I never had anything to hide. He hated it because my mom expected him to do the same for her. My brother is a lot more private than me and hates telling people what he's doing. Not that he ever did anything he wasn't suppose to either, he just likes his privacy.

I, on the other hand, have always loved being honest. I have always preferred to wear my heart on my sleeve and not hide anything from people.

I had been hiding so much and it was weighing me down. I hated it. I hated every minute of it.

But now, it's out and I feel so much better. I feel like I've lost 100 pounds if guilt and shame.

It feels so good to be back. So good.

You're the hardest person on yourself

I read this quote not too long ago that said, " Take the pressure off yourself. You're here right now. Right? This is just what's happening. Acknowledge where your resistance is, draw a bath, pour yourself a glass of wine, listen to music that puts you in a trance. You're the hardest person on yourself, so give yourself a break. Alright. You're doing the best you can, even when and if you think you can do better.... Just remember."

I then proceeded to journal these words, "Perfectionism is a joy killer."

Isn't it? Perfectionism is this guy that gets invited to all the parties but always sucks the fun right out of it. He steals our medals, he takes our prizes, the ones we have worked so hard for. He throws them into our face and says, "this isn't good enough. You are not good enough."

Even though this guy is a bully and no one likes him, we still invite him into our lives. I mean, think about it. WE. INVITE. HIM.

He doesn't just show up uninvited, he always has an invitation. We invite him to tare down all we've built, to look at our work and say "it's not enough".

I was biking with my close friend a few weeks ago. She knows everything I've been dealing with and struggling with and she asked me how things were going. I then spilled all the things I'm working on and how they are still a work in progress blah, blah, blah. After I finished with my long dialogue of my life (they are always long, I'm a woman who uses many words and details). Also, this is how I identify my true friends, they listen to all the details and when I finish, they say the very simple thing to summarize and validate what I just said. She very confidently and sweetly said, "Emily, it sounds to me like you're doing it. You're living that balance you're working for."

MIND. BLOWN.

I had been so consumed about things that I still wanted to do and accomplish that I hadn't taken a moment to recognize the distance I have come. I hadn't allowed myself to celebrate the change that has taken place. "Oh my God, I'm doing it. She's right, I'm doing it."

It's kind of like walking into a yoga class, after going consistently for a month and realizing that your
muscles aren't shaking as bad anymore, that you can hold a pose longer without falling. Waking up and realizing that you are actually doing yoga. That if someone saw you they would actually think you knew what you were doing.

It's so easy to get caught up in that idea of perfect that we miss all the little prizes, the best prizes, the things in this life that really make it worth while.

So please, whatever you're struggling with, whatever you are working on. Stop. Take a moment and give yourself a pat on the back. If you're waking up every week finding a way to implement that thing you want out of life, you're doing it. Recognize it. Love it. Drink in the moment. Don't invite perfectionism in to steal it. It was never meant for him.

Dancing

It’s coming, it’s falling swiftly from the sky.

Such grace, such elegance in it’s swift moment, in it’s swift life.

I watch in amazement, I watch it keep falling and falling.

Something draws me near, something calls me to it.

Innocence radiates in its presence.

It speak newness, it whispers peace.

I long to dance in it, my heart longs to be washed by it.

Everything in me tells me to get up, everything in me quenches to inhale it’s richness.

Instead I lay, watching it fall.

Only left dreaming of it’s mystery through a glass wall.

One day I’ll dance, one day I’ll go.

I’ll drink in the innocence, I’ll take in it’s glow.

I won’t care about the eyes, I won’t care about the minds.

I’ll just dance with the love that is falling from the sky.

What do you want? What do YOU want?!

Today I was watching The Notebook. It got to the part where Allie is about to go confront Lawn and she gets into a fight with Noah. Noah looks at her and repeatedly asks her, "What do you want? What do YOU want!?"

Allie just continues to stare at him, teary eyed, and no response.

Isn't that the typical scene for most women? A man might look at you and with a voice that sounds like it could carry you for miles, for there is that much strength in it. His sea glass eyes staring at you in a way that penetrates your very soul and he asks you, "what do you want?".

And we just stand there. Stand there, praying that the eyes who are searching our very soul can find the answer. Praying that the answer will come flying out of our mouth. Praying the jewels of what we want will begin to swiftly flow from our mouth, without hesitation, and with the confidence of a thousand soldiers.

But they usually don't. Our response if usually like Allie's, we avoid the question.

A few months ago, I found myself in a situation where I needed to express my needs. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable about something and needed clarity, along with feeling like I needed to express what I needed in the situation.

I called a friend of mine and was telling her about the situation. As we were discussing the situation I told her, " I just want to be sure my insecurities are not the ones driving these needs I'm feeling."

The conversation never took place and I'm so glad it didn't. Ever since I realized that I needed to identify my needs, all I've been able to say over and over again to myself is, "Girl, what do you want? What do YOU want?!"

I've been asking myself this for months. MONTHS. Trying to figure out what. I. want.

Yesterday, I was walking through the grocery store. I was looking for Parmesan cheese and garlic cloves when it hit me. It hit me in the soup aisle out of all places..... I want to be happy.

Just like that, right beside the chicken broth.

 I WANT TO BE HAPPY.

Don't we all? Don't we all just want to be happy?

I then realized that my journey to discover happiness. My race to find it, hold it, and keep it for good has been a self destructive path. For I have been looking for it through other things and other people.

If I had had that conversation, if I had expressed my needs at the time, my original concern would have been accurate. I would have been feed an insecurity that needs to be starved. I would have been asking someone to do something, to keep feeding my insecurity, and they would constantly had to do what I asked. As soon as they stopped, my anxiety would be back, my discomfort would come back.

I can't feed my happiness through other people, I can't put someone in that place. They will never fulfill it because they were never made to do that.

I have to do it myself. I have to dive into this heart of mine and find happiness within myself. It's there. It's always been there.

The hardest part is learning to be patient. Learning to know what's gold and what's junk inside this heart of mine. Rid of the junk, keep the good.

It's a process. A long process. But I know it will be worth it. It will be worth it for the day when those sea glass eyes of yours look into my heart, when that voice of yours comes barreling over me, sweeping me off my feet, making me weak in the knees. The words coming out will be truth and it won't feed my insecurity. It won't be fuel for me to sustain my self confidence or self esteem. It will be love and I will see it, and most importantly of all, I will believe it.

Breaking.

This morning I had a friend, whom I love dearly, text me. She said something along the lines of saying she was on the verge of falling apart, she just couldn't keep it together, and asked that I pray for her.

I immediately started praying and then went back to a few nights before, when I found myself on the floor again. Teary eyed and limp muscles.

I was breaking again, but this time I asked for it. I knew I needed it. I felt the pain rise in my chest again, I felt it come to the surface but nothing was coming out.

No tears. No screams. Nothing.

I am here to tell you, what's worse than having pain rise to the surface is not being able to let it out.

So I pulled out my journal and began to write about how frustrated I was with this feeling and not being able to express it.

I finally broke. Maybe it was my prayers and the begging and pleading that came with them, but I broke and it felt so good.

It felt so good to cry to scream, to have snot running out of my nose (not something very many people confess everyday, right?) to have mascara running down my face.

I fell to the floor, as the hard grieving took place.

If I have learned anything about myself recently is that when I love, I love hard. Therefore, the grieving is going to be just as intense, just as hard.

As everything drained out of me, it was there in the floor that I felt lighter. I was able to get the nasty, the yuck right out of me, and I felt so much lighter. Light enough to get off the floor, puffy eyed and all.

So when my friend texted me this morning, this is what I said to her, "Oh love, as soon as I saw the text I started [praying]. If you need to, cancel your plans for the morning or afternoon. Go into a room, shut the door and just break love, just allow everything in you to fall apart. Lay in the floor, cry. Sometimes we need to break to straighten up, to reset. Don't be a afraid of it, maybe it's what you need right now. Don't worry, pain isn't always a bad thing."

Pain isn't always a bad thing........ Breaking isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes it's just the thing you need to reset and continue to grow to your fullest strength.

To anyone who reads this, I really hope you come to find no shame in breaking. It's a hard lesson to learn and I'm fighting to believe it everyday, but I know in my heart it's what we need. We need to be willing to break, to hurt.

Call a friend, text a friend, pray, read scripture, read poetry, have Bright Eyes blaring as loud as your stereo will allow the deepness of that mans brokenness to go. I know it's hard. I know it hurts, but it's so good. It's good.

Even though I could still feel the dull pounding of the pain and the empty cavern that once held it become more hollow, I couldn't have felt more relieved.

I felt alive. 100% percent alive. And so much lighter.

Vulnerability.

I recently read a blog by Hannah Brencher. This blog, it wasn't like anything else I have ever read. It broke me. It literally broke me into pieces.

I wrote her about my experience, telling about what it did to me. I've read my email to a few close friends and all of them have encouraged me to share this, to share this with you.

This email is a very vulnerable email. It's real and it came from a very deep, dark, real part of me. If certain words offend you, don't read it. I won't apologize for anything I've had to say in it but I will quote something Maya Angelou said. She said, "I have to know that the brute, the bigot and the batterer are children of God and I'm supposed to treat them accordingly. It's hard, and I blow it all the time."

People hurt us and it's important to find a way to love them, forgive them, and let them go. But, it's also important to express the pain that was caused.

So here's my pain. I'm wearing it right on my sleeve, because that's who I am.

"I just picked myself off the floor.

Literally.

I've been working part time with this organization that offers free career counseling at the local community library. I was sitting in the room I normally sit in, reading through some of your old blogs (since no one had contacted me to see me). I sit and read or look through facebook, just incase anyone see's the ad and decides to drop in without contacting me first.

I come across your blog, "Hi, My name is Guard Your Heart. Wanna Date?"

I begin to read your words. Your vulnerability. Your ability to lay out what you have done before the world. Your ability to lay the hurt and to articulate the hurt so beautifully.

As I read, I begin to feel my chest tighten. I begin to become aware of every smell, every person, and millisecond of that very moment.

No one's watching me. No one is looking for me, but I look around as if someone is staring at me. As if two, four, six pairs of eyes are on me in this very moment.

I get to the last part, where you write, 'Guarding your heart, it sounds like languages gone extinct from unuse until God speaks. Until Hesays something to blow your little face off:
I want you to know, need  you to know, that your heart is big & beautiful thing–far more precious than you will ever understand. Don’t even try to fathom the weight of it. Just know this– I cannot stand to see it thrown, tousled, trapped in the hands of a Someone who was never made to hold it.

Heed the whisper that I am planting in your spirit: Every. Bit. Of. You. Is. Precious. Cargo. Your heart, your dreams, your hurts, your pains– they never belonged buried in the hands of a Someone who doesn’t fully understand you. They never belonged buried in the hands of a Someone who doesn’t fully understand what it took to make you.'

Well dear, that's exactly what happened in that moment, my little face got blown off. My not so little heart exploded out of my chest and oxygen came flooding into the wounds. Every. Single. Wound. In. My. Chest.

I've written you before, telling you, in passing that I had recently gotten out of a unhealthy relationship.

But if I were to dissect the word "unhealthy", if I were to define it, it would say: I cut off a relationship with a guy who had been emotionally manipulating me for 8 years. I finally broke the tie. But it wasn't until after I broke the tie, finally said I was done that I realized he had been manipulating my emotions. That he had been using me as a ego boost for years, even when he was dating other girls. EVEN WHEN HE HAD OTHERS GIRLFRIENDS HE WAS TEXTING ME TELLING ME HOW HE WISHED THINGS WOULD HAVE WORKED FOR US. TELLING ME HOW HE REALLY WANTED THE RELATIONSHIP AND THAT I WAS THE ONE WHO PREVENTED IT FROM HAPPENING. FUCKING TELLING ME THAT HE STILL SAW A FUTURE ONCE HE GOT HIMSELF TOGETHER.

The worst part is that through all this I became close to his family. They became like my family. They loved me and cared for me.

This isn't the first time I've tried cutting him out. I've done it before. But what I never did before, I never cut off communication with his family. Until now. This time, I broke their hearts. I hurt them, because I couldn't keep hurting myself in this situation.

I couldn't live any longer thinking that I was the problem, thinking I wasn't good enough, fun enough, beautiful enough. I. Just. Couldn't. Do. It. Anymore.

After I read that last paragraph, I felt the bleeding, the bleeding of my heart coming up to the surface. I couldn't bleed all over that library table. I couldn't sit there and bleed in front of people I've never met, never known, will possibly never know.

I grabbed my stuff and I walked out to my car. Got in. Drove as fast as I could home (passing his neighborhood).

I got home. Came into my room. Turned off all the lights. Covered my window to make the room darker. Got into my bed and broke and bled. I then fell into the floor, crying out to God. Begging him. Begging him that it wasn't true. Begging him to tell me that I hadn't been manipulated by someone for years. Pleading for him to come down and tell me that I hadn't shown my heart, shared my secrets with a man who will do nothing but carry them, carry them for the rest of his life.

My heart kept bleeding. Bleeding in grievance for 8 years. 8 years of believing someone just needed time, space, and patience. That in time, these things would help him to see me, to love me, to care for me.

The thing is. The sad thing is that he knew me all along. He knew me from the moment he met me and he learned really quickly what bate it took to keep me. He knew my weaknesses and used them to fill his own bones. To fill his own ego.

I'm off the floor. I know I deserve better than that. I deserve so much more than that and I'm willing to do whatever it takes. To make whatever sacrifices I need to make to never feel that way again. To instead, believe the words of my Father, my God, who tells me I'm beautiful. He looks at me the way an artist looks at his painting and smiles. Smiles with pure love and satisfaction that He did good. He did good in what he made.

Thank you for your ear. Thank you for your heart.

You will most likely receive a million thank you's from me as long as you keep writing :-)

Emily Walters"

Summer Nights

“You cannot write from the pit inside of you that wants to please others—you cannot create from that pit either.”- Liz Gilbert

I love everything about summer nights.

I love how you can still feel the lingering rays of heat left behind from the sun earlier in the day.

I love sitting on the porch, breathing in the night air, not feeling too cold or too warm, but just right.

Summer nights are adventures for me. It always brings something. It might bring a deep thought, a good laugh, or a gut wrenching conversation. I just never know and that’s what I love about it.

I’ve been so tired lately.

Maybe it’s the backlash of the last month and a half.

Maybe it’s the backlash of having been working 4 jobs the last month.

Maybe it’s the consequence of not taking care of myself well.

Whatever the reason, it’s a strange place and a strange season for me.

I’m typically like the energizer bunny. I just go go, go, go. But the thing is, after going, going, going, I crash, and I crash HARD.

I’ve had to learn to take better care of myself and not put myself on the back burner so much. Just like I’ve said multiple times, in multiple post, it’s just as important to love yourself as it is to love others.

To wake up to the reality that you don’t know if you love who you are or know who you are is a harsh reality. Yet, if I hadn’t awakened to it, I’d still would have been going down the self destructive path I had laid out for myself. I’m grateful for my awakening. I’m grateful to be on this journey.

As I go along, I’ve had to learn how to rebuild with the pieces I have inside of me. I’m coming to learn that I had been working really hard and searching really hard to find, what I thought, was my missing pieces. When in reality, I’ve had everything I’ve needed all along.

EVERY PIECE HAS BEEN SITTING HERE, INSIDE OF ME. Just waiting…… waiting to be seen….. waiting to be used.

I feel we have been programmed to constantly look. Constantly work and find the ‘thing’ you need the most, the ‘thing’ that will bring you all the happiness and joy you have been wanting your whole life. But this is a LIE. A lie that I have believed for far too long.

It’s here. It’s right here, wherever you are standing. Just stop. Stop right where you are. Turn off the music. Turn off the noise. It will come, it will show itself. It might feel uncomfortable. In fact, it will probably feel extremely uncomfortable, but don’t stop it. Don’t stop the discomfort, it’s all apart of the process, it’s all apart of the discovery.

Soon enough, if you sit with the discomfort long enough, the fog will clear, and you will see. You will see and find that missing piece and feel silly for thinking it could have been found anywhere else.

Brokenness.

She was leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone. A second later, music came gently slipping through the speakers on the counter. It was the smooth sweet notes from Coldplays new album. 

"Oh, I love this new album!" I said.

"Me too! If it took losing Gwyneth to create something like this, then I guess it was a sacrifice worth making."

By all means do I not want to belittle the heartbreak that happens when a relationship ends. I've had to grieve the ending of a relationship that was deeply rooted in me and there are no distinct words to describe how it feels some days when the hole aches and moans as it works to heal itself. 

Whether you are someone who is known by 2 people or 2 million people, the ache and pain that comes from heartbreak hurts. It really really hurts.

The comment that my friend made really hit me. She was right, if it weren't through true heartbreak, this album would have never been created. This album that has made my mind wander off, that gave me chills, that spoke unspoken words over my soul, it would have never been created if it wasn't for someone going through a time of grieving, a time of loss, a time in their lives that I'm sure they will never want to revisit ever again.

Many artist do this, they take something very strong in their lives, whether good or bad, and they make something out of it. They create something that they then share with the world. They take their brokenness and put words, color, music to it, so that you and I can go and sit with it, listen to it, stare at it, and feel less alone with whatever we are fighting with, whatever it is that we may be struggling with. 

WE FEEL LESS ALONE. 

As I go through this time of rebuilding and repair in my life, I'm beginning to look forward to the good that will be created from it. I can already feel the way my heart is being tugged, shaped, and moved to become something bigger, something better. 

I'm beginning to find myself, for the first time in my life, to be challenged to live in truth, no matter how ugly or unacceptable the truth might be or how it might look.

I would rather live in truth, than to live a life that is run by ensuring that everyone thinks I am living the way THEY think I should be living. 

The only person who has any say so in my life is Jesus and he wants me to be real, he wants me to be honest. Even if that means what I have to say isn't pretty or it isn't what I 'should' say. He wants me to live in HIM and live in HIS truth. And you know what? I think He's ok with me coming to him and saying "I'm struggling" "I can't seem to do this" "I can't get out of bed right now". You know what I have found Him to do in these moments? He cradles me into his arms, he hugs me, and says, "I love you. I'm here. You don't have to do this alone."

NEVER has he condemned me. NEVER has he gotten onto me for saying a "bad word" to him. He listens. He takes me as I am. Exactly as I am.

He takes my brokenness and turns it into beauty. He turns it into something new, something better. 

"By his wounds you are healed" (1 Peter 2:24)

This blew my mind the other day when I really thought about it. How God reversed logic, took everything we could have figured out and completely revamped it by making it so that a wound, a hurt, brokenness, could be our source of healing. 

Healing radiates from His wounds, his scars. 

I still can't get enough of that image. I can't wrap my mind around that kind of love. 

THAT IS SO MUCH LOVE!

Brokenness........ Creating beauty for all of us to enjoy.