the aftermath of 'almost'.

Two years ago, I had a devastating breakup. 

I was angry and bitter for a long while, but that really just stemmed from hurt and confusion from a lot of unfulfilled promises. The hurt that stemmed from a wound of rejection and separation- things that would never happen if we weren’t hopelessly sinful as a human race. We weren't made for it. 

However, this life circumstance spurred on a very pivotal season of learning for me. 

I’ve put off writing about this for a very long time. I think I was ashamed and didn’t want to open up the most personal part of my life to the public. I was afraid I would be exposed as deserving of rejection. And as I’ve come to realize, I was even more afraid that I would be exposed as having an imperfect faith (YIKES, my pride is out of control). 

I didn’t want to whine or complain. After all, I know that I have so many blessings and so little devastation compared to most of those I love. This not about me proving to you that my life is harder than yours. I am fully aware that my suffering is only a minimal fraction of what so many experience in their lifetime. 

But I want to share now for anyone out there going through something painful they feel ashamed to share or just simply aren’t ready to share. For anyone who is going through some similar form of heartbreak and shattered dreams. Or, truly for anyone that wants to see the nitty-gritty, imperfect, trying side of my walk with Christ, so they don’t feel alone in theirs.

Two weeks after the breakup, I graduated from college. Being a foolish kid hopelessly “in-love”, I put off my dreams of pursing a career in publishing to stay in Atlanta in hopes of marriage. Clearly, that was a dumb decision (that God has used more than I could have imagined, BIG praise). 

Walking across the stage at graduation, I was broken, disillusioned, and shocked. I had no energy or confidence left in the tank to go pursue my career dreams now that my other dream had shattered. Like many in sorrow, I needed to be with people that loved me and could forgive me for being a lifeless zombie in my healing. So, I stayed in Atlanta close to my family and friends that could prop me up and point me to Jesus in love. 

Now, I don’t want to romanticize my pain. There’s no benefit or fruit that comes from that. If I have learned anything, I know now that my suffering actually had so little to do with missing a relationship or a person and everything to do with exposing my idols and stomping them out. In simpler terms, the pain stemmed not from a woe-is-me experience, but from an "oh, crap, I am so messed up" realization. Which, let me tell you, is an exhausting process. 

I was running from the fear of loneliness as fast as I could, clinging to this faux comfort of a forever-relationship with a tenacious grip. Jesus was so little a factor as I tried to bring comfort to my life with my own two hands. 

I wanted control. 

My idea of control means serving my own desires and wants above all else. Others, including God, became so minimal in my life as I fed my insatiable pride. As I quickly learned, I have no control over life. And as I later grew to believe, that is the best possible reality. 

In fact, demanding control is symptom of a much deeper illness inside me: a distrust in my Heavenly Father. 

I didn’t trust that He wanted good things for me. I didn’t trust that He could restore joy or would even want to restore joy to my life. I was so angry at Him for the pain I saw in the lives of my loved ones. I was bitter at the injustice in the world and the hateful hearts of so many both outside and inside the church. 

I was selfishly bitter that he gave the gift of love and marriage to so many, yet he seemed to snub me. For a while, I couldn’t go to a wedding without sneaking away at the reception to cry in a bathroom stall (pathetic, I know). I had so many questions and angry rants and tearful prayers. Eventually, I was all teared-out. I was replete of words to say and energy to keep walking in my frustration, depression, loneliness. God didn’t give me what I wanted, so I was giving Him the cold shoulder.

Can you tell I had an idol?

The revelation of my deep idol of control stung. It pierced me deeper than I could have imagined, and because I was so tired at this point from mourning the loss of the relationship, I didn’t want to deal with this wound in my spirit. 

I began to numb myself, which if you know me, is not a practice I am typically capable of—I usually can’t help but feel all the things. The numbing stage looked a lot like me spending time with a lot of friends, entering other lives and other worlds through an unhealthy amount of tv and movies, and podcasting my thoughts away.

It was easier for me to avoid thinking. Because, if I thought, then I knew I would have to work. The Holy Spirit is too good to me to not convict me in my thoughts and push me out of my despondency. 

So, like a typical sinful human, I ran. And I really did have some good, blessed times in this season of running. I will never understand the goodness of God in blessing me in this time when I truly least deserved it. Like, didn’t deserve it AT ALL, I was a complete punk.

Between then and now, there was simply time. And lots of it—full of little lessons and growth. I won't get into all the gory details of the past two years. After all, you're alive—you know just how nuanced suffering can be. We have to live every day, and in those days, little things happened that either add or detract from the pain until the pain is gone one day. So you get it, I don't need to explain the nature of typical life to a bunch of living people.

But, as I’m sure you’ve heard, they say time heals all wounds. And from my experience, whoever they are, they are right. Unfortunately, I really didn't want to believe that over the last two years. Knowing that time heals wounds means you have to wait to be healed and feel okay again. And that's exhausting. 

But I think the reason God has designed time as a healing mechanism is because He wants us to exercise the two fruits of the spirit: faithfulness and patience. These two traits of our Creator would be impossible to learn and gain if it weren't for healing over time through the discomfort of hardship.

After some time, all I can say is I’m different now. Harder, less likely to be sad at any given moment—less likely to cry.

I used to think I’ve just grown apathetic, and while that may be true at times, I think God has allowed hurt to grow me a thicker skin. A resiliency that was so absent before, both personally and in my faith. I now understand just a fragment of how some believers seem to walk tall and trusting through hardship. It’s not fake, disingenuous, or contrived like I once thought. God simply grew them callouses of trust over time, and now their lives are a testament to God’s faithfulness to His children because of their faithfulness and patience.

He taught them, like he is teaching me, that He is trustworthy and loving. 

He taught them that His control of their lives is the greatest news. 

He taught them that the redemptive love of Jesus forgives us and gives us courage to walk through even the worst of circumstances. 

He taught them that Jesus’ grace is still good to cover the moments when they forget all the lessons above. 

And He taught them that He will bring them home soon. 

God has given them stamina to make it through this life until the next life, which they were designed for. He has trained them, and me, up in the truth of my favorite passage of scripture: 2 Corinthians 4:6-12; 16-18.

“For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you…Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Even in my darkest moment of depression, questioning, and frustration, I was never in despair. I was certainly hard pressed by my own idols of control and comfort, but I was not and am not destroyed. And neither were all the other believers that I look up to that walk through hardship. 

I need be honest, if it were up to me, I would have been crushed, destroyed, abandoned, and despairing. I am so weak in my flesh, and the last two years taught me that I am far weaker than I even knew. But that is only aside from Christ. 

In Christ, I am strong. I am confident. I am hopeful. I am made completely new. He keeps his children from despair. He upholds us with His righteous right hand (Isaiah 41:10). His power in us changes us.

I am ecstatic to say, that I am learning to trust Him and love Him more through every imperfect day. And, man, was that growth worth the tedious wait. 

My hope for each of you is that my story can help you with your story. I hope it encourages you to be honest with where you are and confident in whose you are. 

I have no answers to clarify the road God is taking you down or how long your current season may last. But what I do know is this: He will never leave you or forsake you; He will heal you and give you the grace to keep moving forward. 

He will rescue you and make you more like His Son in all things.

That is a promise. And my life is a testament.

___

P.S.- I’ve gone to 4 weddings in the past year without crying alone in a bathroom stall, so if that’s not spiritual growth, then I don’t know what is. 

___

**If you happen to be going through a break-up of any kind, here are some resources that helped me discern truth in that season:

1. "When Love Ends and the Ice Cream Carton is Empty: What You Need to Know About Your New Beginning"--Book by Jackie M. Johnson (cheesy name, I know. But this book is AMAZING. It's a must read as you walk through the end of a relationship). You can purchase it here.

2. "Shattered Dreams: God's Unexpected Path to Joy"--Book by Larry Crabb. You can purchase it here.

3. "Finding God"--Book by Larry Crabb (I love this guy. He is a Christian Counselor and has so much wisdom to share.) You can purchase it here.

4. "Mountain Breezes"--A collection of poems by Amy Carmichael, a longterm missionary and mentor to the incredible Elisabeth Elliot. You can purchase it here.

comparison is a thief.

Someone asked me yesterday if I was still in college. After I fumbled over my words, I answered her by saying, “Actually, I’m not. I graduated a year and a half ago.” 

Then it set in. And it’s true; I have been in the adult world for over a year, and I finally feel ready to talk about it. To be able to explain to others what I feel is one of the strongest temptations in the post-grad season of life. 

As I see graduation pictures all over social media, I first want to say: Congrats! It is no small thing to complete a degree at an undergraduate or graduate level. You should be proud of your hard work and excited to enter this new season of life. I know your Heavenly Father is proud of you, too.

But secondly, I want to warn you about something you may already know: the temptation to compare yourself to others will inevitably come knocking at your door soon, if it hasn’t already made its way to you. And I truly believe that its one main goal is to get you to look away from your security and dignity in Christ. It wants you to find your value in how impressive of a life you are building in this world instead of the next. Don’t let it do that.

This temptation takes on many forms. You may meet professional comparison. Or humanitarian comparison. Or physical comparison. Or social comparison. Or relational comparison. Or financial comparison. Or a storm of all of these at once. 

But I guarantee you, you will find yourself wondering if you should have lived your life more like that other girl from college that is touring the world, the guy that moved to New York to work in the financial district, or the ambitious kid that pioneered a brand new tech start-up. Or maybe you should take your career less seriously and settle down, get married, and have a kid. Or maybe you should enjoy your 20s—go out, eat great food, travel, have lots of friends, and spend your money on what you want. 

Whatever the lifestyle may be, you will often wish you had chosen it over the direction God led you in instead. And it’s presence on social media will taunt you. You will wish you were living someone else’s life, or even that you were someone else. You will feel insignificant compared to others.

Simply, I think that one of the most powerful tools of the enemy is comparison. 

It is an effectively evil tool that quickly gets us to look away from our security and value in the arms of Jesus and look towards the mind-racing anxiety and despair that comes with feeling less-than and inadequate. 

The world wants us to compete for worth and importance because of how detrimental it is to our view of ourselves and our view of God. Essentially, the more time we spend thinking about all the ways we don’t measure up to those that surround us, the more time we spend rejecting the peace, security, dignity, and love that is endlessly offered to us in Christ. 

Comparison pits beautiful creation against beautiful creation. It hinders our ability to look at another one of God’s children and see them as a soul—a person that needs the love and grace of Jesus, just like me. Instead, it trains us to look at others as a belittling presence that can make us feel small. 

It warps our priorities and hurls us into a prison of self-centeredness. Comparison is a fruitless venture that leads to hurt, and can never lead to anything good, anything helpful, anything beneficial.

In fact, the 10th commandment (“Do not covet”, Exodus 20:17) and Philippians 2 commands us directly to not be jealous and to consider others more important than ourselves, which Philippians points out is only possible through the power of Christ in us (vs. 5).

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,” (Phil. 2:3-5).

Do you think that God created you to be disappointed in who you are? Do you think He’s happy when you scoff at the direction He has set you on for His glory and your good? Do you think He likes when you second-guess if your existence makes a difference because it’s not as “impressive” in a worldly sense? Do you think He likes that you focus so much on the achievements of others rather than the heart?

I’ve asked myself questions like these many times in my life, but I’ve had to ask them more than ever over the last year. And in doing so, I’ve come face-to-face with my sin nature, with my desire for Hannah to be glorified instead of God, and I’ve had to ask for a lot of forgiveness.

The truth is, if we trust that we are loved in Christ, submit prayerfully to His wisdom and guidance, and follow the convictions of the Holy Spirit, then we can rest. No amount of comparison and the anxiety it carries in tow will change the fact that God is sovereign, He loves you, and He has given your life purpose and value in Christ. 

You have God-given dignity, and the path He has set in motion for you is good. Do yourself a favor, and breathe. God loves you, He forgives you, and He has set you apart. You don’t have to compete for his love and security, and you never will. 

So, post-grads, adults, students, parents, and all people, breathe in, breathe out. You are secure and valued in Christ. He fulfills the craving in your heart to matter. 

And no, you don’t deserve it. Praise God.

As you face the temptation to compare yourself and your life to others, I want to challenge you to pray the powerful words of missionary and poet, Amy Carmichael--words that have truly challenged me:

“I wish Thy way.

And when in me myself should rise,

And long for something otherwise,

Then Lord, take sword and spear,

And slay.”

Because, ultimately, this struggle comes from wanting what we want instead of what God wants, and that is a deep-rooted sin of pride. Pray that the Holy Spirit would deal with that sin, so that you may be free to ‘wish His way’ instead of your own. 

And therefore, be free to see others as God’s children instead of a competitor for value. 

vision.

My silent drives to work have become my favorite time of day. Yes, I am an introvert, so taking a moment to breathe alone is part of why I treasure this time. But I love it for far more than that. It has become a time where I fall truthfully at the throne, confronted with the sinful, self-absorbed battles of my mind and gently directed by the spirit to lay them down at the foot of the cross.

It’s often a painfully genuine time where my prayers don’t sound like they came from a “good” woman—because they didn’t; they came from me, a daughter of the Heavenly Father that is stained with brokenness and marked with failure. I yell to the Lord my fears, doubts, struggles, and pains that I feel just won’t heal. I lift up my frustrations with not finding systematic answers to my problems composed of bullet-points to follow on my way to getting where I want to be. I leave it all on the dashboard. 

This time is not transformative because I say or do anything in a particularly correct way. In fact, it has nothing to do with me. The transformation comes from simply this: Prayer doesn’t change God’s mind, it doesn’t bend his will to mine. How could it? He is the sovereign mighty ruler of the world.

It’s a good thing that I cannot persuade him to change his mind. He is the loving, merciful king of his people; a shepherd to his lost, easily distracted sheep. His will, though often hard to understand and masked as darkness, is far better than my plans, which are composed of too many “me”-minded desires and Elmer’s glue based solutions.

Prayer leads me into the presence of the almighty God and allows me to acquaint myself with Him. It allows me to be reminded that He is in control, and He loves me. It corrects my vision to see through His lens.

As I speak words from my mouth, he corrects my eyes. He takes my sinful thoughts and teaches me what it’s like for Him to be my vision. 

The hymn, "Be Thou My Vision" displays this truth beautifully. If you know me well, then you know that hymns are my weakness. But they are my weakness with good reason: the words are just so poignantly and powerfully true. Just read the first verse of “Be Thou My Vision”, and you’ll understand:

Be thou my vision, oh lord of my heart.

Naught be all else to me, save that thou art.

Thou my best thought, by day or by night.

Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

If you can get past the archaic language, you will see that this hymn, which was originally written centuries ago in Ireland and was translated to modern English in the 20th Century, is a prayer. It’s a prayer that asks God to teach us to see like him and for all else to fade from importance. 

If God is our vision—if we see things as He does—, then we will not fear. We will be confident that our sovereign Lord has it under control. He has not let anything slip from Him hands. He is at the helm of our lives and that of the entire universe, and his navigation is flawless. 

If seeing our circumstances as our loving God sees them will free us from the burden of fear and bitterness, then why do we still settle to see life from our own, convoluted lens?

The answer that I have found is simple. In our sinfulness, we are selfish. We want what we want when we want it. Our feelings, dreams, hopes, and goals are more important to us than anyone else’s, and as much as we hate to admit it, they are often more important to us than God’s desires. 

Selfishness is corrosive to healing and centering on our rightful and merciful place in Christ. It redirects thoughts away from the great commission and our purpose to glorify, enjoy, and find refuge in God, and instead directs us to the throne of self. A dangerous, nasty place.

It tells us that we must “treat ourselves” and look inward to ourselves for fulfillment. The world loves this destructive narrative, and our depraved nature is smitten with it, too. The dastardly duo winsomely smirks at sound of “you are sufficient in yourself” or “find true happiness in loving who you are” or “be your own you, the world will thank you”. 

It all sounds like a laughable pile of discounted greeting cards that the members of the human race just can’t stop buying hoping they’ll fix the problem. They hope one of those empty phrases will land, and they’ll finally rest and stop feeling pain.

Put simply, this broken world celebrates with the evil one when every thought begins with “you” and has no trace of “Him”.

It’s everywhere in our world. Self-help books and blogs about self-actualization abound in this modern age. People try anything possible to heal their thirst for something greater, something more than themselves. But they just keep perpetuating the problem by creating solutions that fall flat and dissolve to helplessness. 

Solutions that look to measly, flawed humans for answers.

The truth is, I am just as guilty of this as anyone—if not more guilty. I nurse my wounds with pessimism; I nurse my wounds with shallow optimism and empty smiles. I combat my pain with generic lines that soothe for a moment and leave my soul wanting. I distract from my fears and hurt with sarcasm. I expect for encouragement from friends and family to make me feel whole again, to feel joyful in myself and where my feet are planted. I say the words I need to say to convince others that I’m doing just fine, but it’s sometimes just words I’m saying and not words I’m believing. I work hard to feel confident in my own skin, hoping that one day it will cause that lingering, empty feeling to fade away. 

But I’m missing the point. 

I think a lot of us miss the point without even knowing it. Hardship and the deep questions in this life aren’t just made to point us inward—to looking for how to improve ourselves and grow stronger in our individuality in the presence of pain. These questions and hardships are made to point us outward. To seeing who our God truthfully is and to finding peace in His control over our circumstances. 

Trials are successfully sanctifying when we forget more about ourselves and our circumstances and instead become increasingly entranced by the glorious character of God.

Nothing tells of this truth better than scripture. Read these verses and be encouraged that the face of our Father is better than whatever else you’re looking at. His vision is pure, true, and good, which wholly contradicts the prideful, dark, and hopeless vision we were born with in sin. He is all powerful, and He still stooped low enough in love to save us from ourselves.

This is just a glimmer of who He is:

  

Isaiah 43:1b-3

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

    I have called you by name, you are mine.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

    and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,

    and the flame shall not consume you.

For I am the Lord your God,

    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

I give Egypt as your ransom,

    Cush and Seba in exchange for you.”

Jeremiah 10:12 

“It is he who made the earth by his power, who established the world by his wisdom, and by his understanding stretched out the heavens.”

Ephesians 2:4-7

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.”

He is glorious, majestic, and full of a rich love for people who clearly don’t deserve love at all. The kind of love that is so powerful that I cannot even conceive it’s shallows, much less it’s depths. 

Wouldn’t you rather look away from the momentary pleasures and remedies that you find yourself tossing and turning rather than resting in, and look instead to the His face, to His character, to His overwhelming love for you and finally rest?

I know that I would choose the latter, even though in human frailty I often choose the former. I find that it’s a daily battle for me to turn my eyes upon Jesus, upon my God, instead of upon my idols or earthly concerns. It takes a stern, conscious decision for me to surrender my selfishness and remember that His desires are better than my own. That his vision will bless me more than I can imagine. Certainly more than any earthly thing will bless you. 

It takes prayers asking for our vision to align with His vision through His power. A sweet prayer that draws me back into the arms of peace, truth, and rest. 

So join me as I pray to have my sights set not on what brings me glory, but what brings Him glory. Join me as I aim to pray this often, as I fail to share his vision perfectly, and then pray this with great joy all the more as He shares His vision with me again. 

Be my vision, oh Lord of my heart.

Let nothing be of worth to me, except that you are.

You are my best thought, day and night.

Awake or asleep, your presence is my light. 

This is our solid footing in this ever-shifting world. The beauty and the saving grace of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are the answer to all our questions and thirsts. 

Stop looking inward to satisfy yourself in your own strength. It’s truly a waste of time. Instead, look outward through His lens. Let Him be your vision, and you will find heavenly joy, purpose, and rest.

Let us be children that ask this of the Father and believe that His vision is transformative for earthly, downtrodden eyes: 

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, oh ruler of all.

___________________

Just in case you wanted to read the rest of the hymn, here are the lyrics:

"Be thou my vision, oh lord of my heart.

Naught be all else to me, save that thou art.

Thou my best thought, by day or by night.

Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

Be thou my wisdom and thy my true word.

I ever with thee and thou with me, Lord.

Thou my great Father and I thy true son.

Thou in my dwelling, and I in thee one.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise.
Thou my inheritance now and always.

Thou and thou only, first in my heart.

High king of heaven, my treasure thou art.

Oh, God be my everything, be my delight.

Be Jesus my glory, my soul satisfied.

High king of heaven, thy victory won.

May I reach heaven’s joys, Oh, bright heaven’s sun!

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, oh ruler of all."

Be Thou My Vision

Jesus, the Great Empathizer.

I’m not sure where this finds you today. I don’t know whether you are in the midst of one of the most exciting days of your life or if you are experiencing heart-wrenching pain like never before. Or simply somewhere in between.

But I don’t have to know where you are in this moment. 

I am certain that everyone can agree that life is hard. We all experience cosmic disappointment, suffocating loss, anxious uncertainty, disillusioning self-loathing, paralyzing failure, and cutting betrayal. We have all had days where facing reality is the most frightening item on the to-do list. 

There is a truth about our savior, Jesus Christ, that meets each and everyone one of us in despair with a hug and kiss of empathy. He has been there. He has felt it. He knows the worst of feelings that this sin-saturated world can cause. 

I have heard my whole Christian life that Jesus understands everything we could ever go through in this world. He lived it, he understands it. He conquered it. Hebrews 4: 15-16 explains this wonderful truth:

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

In times of temptation, depression, confusion, hurt, and pain, I have looked to this verse, this element of my Savior that sets him apart, to breathe. To feel warmth. To feel understood. To know I have an expert carrying me through. 

Honestly, there are times that this verse forces me to know that Jesus understands even when it feels like the whole world doesn’t notice or care. 

Yet this verse is more than just mere empathy. It’s more than just the assurance that Jesus gets our hurt. It’s the revelation that his empathy goes beyond understanding our human strife. Jesus understands bearing the whole weight of the sin of the world. The entirety of the wrath of God on our behalf. 

He bore it ALL. We bore our share. 

I think that our desire to feel understanding in our hurt overshadows our ability to think about what we don’t have to hurt over because of Jesus’ sacrifice. 

There is pain—the pain of condemnation—that Christians will never have to experience because of our selfless, beyond empathetic Savior. To me, this realization is more comforting that just simply thinking about what he understands. It brings me joy to know that I will never have to understand something so terrible. I will never have to enter into the space of knowing that my God is as far away from me as I can possibly imagine. My proximity to my heavenly Father has been secured by his selfless Son and his understanding of immeasurable pain. 

Christians, we can rest knowing that Jesus understands everything you have and will go through. But he also understands pain far beyond that. And he survived the pain without sin. This is the amazing Savior we walk hand and hand with. This is the Savior that lets you cry in his presence because he gets it. This is the Savior that speaks joy and hope into your down-trodden heart of a perfect eternity because he survived it all, and he is on your side. 

“Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God's wrath through him!”

-Romans 5:9 

I don’t have much more to say than this. Just know that in your worst of days, you have been rescued to better days to come. Jesus loves you more than you can know.

see the mountains move.

If you have thought any of these things today:

if only I could lose a little more weight in my thighs; if I was a better student I would be more valuable; I should have run more; I need a more impressive job; my hair never falls right; maybe if I stalk myself on Facebook again, my face will change or I’ll look skinnier—I’ll become beautiful; maybe I would stand out if I was as pretty as the girls they all talked about; maybe I’d be worth more if they saw past my looks; I must be non-existent or irrelevant. 

Stop. Stop right now. 

And if you have ever thought that there will never be a day where these thoughts are absent from your mind, where they will stop racing through your head and leaving traces of destruction in their wake, listen to me.

There is hope. A real, transformative hope.

These insecurities that stem from our obscene and competitive desire for perfection are NOT a part of the baseline identity that God created you to be. You are NOT your insecurities, and they do not have to control you. I promise you that there is a ‘you’ apart from self-hatred, self-loathing, and deflating jealousy, and as difficult as it may be to believe that, it is crucial that you begin to trust that it’s true—that God designed you to be beautifully more than that. 

Looking in the mirror, I used to see someone that curdled my stomach, that made me feel like knives were being stabbed slowly into my abdomen. I often found myself believing that I was unlovable, repulsive, and ultimately a mistake within God’s otherwise stunning creation. I felt immediately inferior to every other girl when I walked into a room, just waiting for them to find me out—to see my endless flaws and weaknesses.

Having been a believer for a long time now, conviction continually flooded my soul as the Holy Spirit called me out for how ungrateful and prideful my view of self was when it was drenched in such insecurities, yet I began to become numb. I began to believe that my insecurities were a part of me—that they're something about me that would never change. My perpetual sin, per say. 

From then on, they would lie dormant at times—only bubbling to the surface in occasional comments or remarks about myself or others—yet at other times they would fully consume my life to the point of depression and apathy, of thinking that my life was not significant enough to keep around. 

This depressed, apathetic state is where I found myself in May. I was almost lifeless, hopeless, exhausted from fighting in all the wrong ways. I just kept trying to believe that I was better, different from what I thought I was. My prayers were for princess bandaids to cover my gaping stab wounds—for momentary pain relief, not for healing. I was at the end of myself, and that is when I learned to stop, to really stop. 

I was reading in Daniel 2 when the Lord changed my life forever. 

Frankly, I will never forget that passage--the significance that Nebuchadnezzar’s life holds to my own. God took Nebuchadnezzar—the prideful king of Babylon so loyal to his own agenda—and humbled him in a way that no man could have ever done. He stranded him in the wild until he developed the features of a bird, waiting with patience for him to declare that God was in fact God. When Nebuchadnezzar finally surrendered his pride and desire for control—when he submitted to the power of Lord—he was restored to his kingdom. What I extracted from this was simply that God goes to whatever extent necessary to center his children on himself, to heal them with his power and with his Son’s redeeming blood. 

God is persistent enough to change you, and even more beautifully, beyond powerful enough to change you in ways you never thought possible. 

This passage encouraged me, really pushed me down to the feet of the throne, to offer up my deeply sinful insecurities to the Lord.

Lord, they are on the altar of my life. Please take them.

And wow, I have never seen healing so powerful, so tangible. My stab wounds that have dripped blood for a decade have been sown up; I have seen a new beauty in who God designed me to be that I had never been able to see before through that shattered and clouded mirror of my prior perspective. Above all else, I have been humbled by the truth that my years of effort were unsuccessful, but God’s efforts went beyond the realm of success—they healed me and then began to shape who I have become. I promise you, you can be healed in this way, too.

There is no ten step solution, there is no serum that I can lend to you. 

Surrender, calling on the Lord in prayer knowing that he can move mountains, asking him to step in and remove the insecurity that you have always thought was a part of your identity, that is what leads to healing. That is what reminds you of how powerful the God you serve actually is. 

"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” Matthew 7:7-8

Step down from your high horse, I had to. Come lay at the feet of the great healer, and let him bind up your wounds. 

Expectant prayer works. See him move mountains.

born that man.

To me, Christmas has always been a paramount holiday. 

Growing up, I eagerly awaited the holiday season, and when it arrived, I gladly immersed myself in the Christmas spirit. I have countless traditions that I excitingly indulged in each year. One of my personal favorites has always been watching I’ll Be Home For Christmas by myself on VHS. Another personal favorite is watching Christmas Vacation with my family. I think that we all have a unique liking for this movie because the chaos of the Griswold family so closely resembles the chaos within our own family during the month of December. Clark’s jelly of the month club rant will simply never get old to the Collins clan. Also, I have always rationalized my excessive drinking of eggnog (don’t worry…non-alcoholic) and eating of cookies by just shrugging my shoulders while proclaiming, “It’s alright, it’s Christmas. I’m supposed to eat this stuff.” While many of these traditions still occur, it becomes more and more apparent every year that as I age it’s harder to hold onto the ‘magic’ that I experienced as a child. 

I vividly remember the first time my family’s Christmas traditions were altered. I was around the age of 12 or 13, and when my older brothers left in the afternoon to see their friends or their girl friends, I remember thinking, “but this is family time. you can’t leave during family time”. This harsh feeling of change came abruptly and in a sly manner, yet it was just the first sign of many changes to come. Soon after that, my brothers both went off to college and our home felt confined, quiet, and empty during the Christmas season. Also, I became fully aware that the last thing they wanted to do on their break after a difficult semester was hang out with their teenage sister and the rest of their ‘lame family’. I’ve always been a sentimental person, if you couldn’t tell, so this realization really shook me up. How could they NOT want to take part in all of our old-time traditions? Well, from this first occurrence, the air of excitement continued to let out more and more each year. 

All of this change brought us here—to Christmas 2014. Let me quickly catch you up to speed: Andrew has been in the real world for almost two years now, Daniel graduated from college a year ago and just got married five days ago (making Michelle my sister, eeeeek), Christina just graduated from Georgia Tech and lives downtown, I am a sophomore in college frighteningly contemplating nearing the cliff that leads to the valley of adulthood, David is a senior in high school with a devil-may-care attitude about the remainder of his high school education, and Brooke and Brandon are keepin’ it real as sophomores in high school. Whether we like it or not, our lives are moving forward like a freight train with a fervor of haste. By no means are we “old”, but we certainly are not of age to wake up at 7 am on the 25th exclaiming, SANTA CAME! SANTA CAME! The reality is that we have grown up and most of the Collins kids are closer to parenthood and gift coordinating in December than to wish list making and waking up mom and dad to open stalkings at the crack of dawn. 

Santa, lavish toys, tantrums, and other childhood activities that come with the season have passed in our home, yet one thing remains and does not rely on a feeling of ‘spirit’ or age. That one thing is the story of our Savior coming down to earth—the beginning of the larger story of humility and redemption.

Essentially, my feelings and emotions about each Christmas—whether positive or negative—can never remove the truth of what the actual day stands for. Today, years ago, a child was born, and this child wasn’t just going to join the world, this child was going to save the world. You see, here, today, the 25th of December, 2014, we celebrate the fact that thousands of years ago, God fulfilled the prophecies of the old testament by beginning his plan for redemption in a manger. So today, we shouldn’t just open presents, be merry while spending time with family and friends, and say a quick thank you for a baby being born. We should be floored with thankfulness for the baby that was born because that same baby would go on to sacrifice his perfect life for his very imperfect people. 

Modern culture—myself included—has a way of completely separating Christmas and Easter while thoroughly commercializing them in the process, but today I thought that I’d fight to remember the bigger picture. Christmas is celebrated because it signifies the coming of a humble savior. Christ could not have died on a cross to cover a multitude of sins if he wasn’t born in an unassuming manger years before; the story of Christmas is integral to the story of salvation. 

That’s the bigger picture.

And it’s simply why Christmas was celebrated in the first place. It’s weighty; it’s valuable. It lends itself to a much larger story—the story of the Gospel. 

If the Lord has taught me one thing over the course of my 20 years of life, it is that zooming out to see the bigger picture lends perspective and understanding as to why God may be doing what he’s doing. After all, he is all-powerful, all-knowing, and omnipresent. He doesn’t mess up and doesn’t waste time because that is his character. Thus, choosing to zoom out allows believers to be reminded of those very characteristics of God. It reminds us that he has a plan and a far vaster perspective from us. He knew at the birth of Christ that his death was in store for the world, and he knows today that whatever you are going through right now has an ultimate purpose, too.

Today, seek to zoom out. His sovereign hand is holding you.

And this Christmas, remember that when you don’t feel the “spirit” or the “magic”, the truth of the nativity story still rings true. Value this, cling to it. Give him the praise and honor he deserves because he gave you the greatest gift of all; he gave you redemption through that tiny child in a manger. 

"Mild He lays His glory by,

Born that man no more may die.”

What a powerful statement that is embedded in such a classic carol. The ties of the Christmas story and the Easter story are everywhere. Look for them.

Take a gander through Isaiah 53. It lays out God’s plan for what would come from the Christmas story long before Christ even came down. What an incredible, amazing God we serve.

"Who has believed what he has heard from us?
    And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
2 For he grew up before him like a young plant,
    and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
    and no beauty that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by men;
    a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

4 Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.

7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
    yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
    and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
    so he opened not his mouth.
8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
    and as for his generation, who considered
that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
    stricken for the transgression of my people?
9 And they made his grave with the wicked
    and with a rich man in his death,
although he had done no violence,
    and there was no deceit in his mouth.

10 Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him;
    he has put him to grief;
when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
    he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;
the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
11 Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
    make many to be accounted righteous,
    and he shall bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
    and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death
    and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
    and makes intercession for the transgressors.”

-Isaiah 53:1-12

He is an intentional God who fulfills the plans that he makes for his glory. Find peace in that this Christmas.

Merry Christmas, folks!