Something more.

It's so easy to get caught up in the small stories in your life. It's so easy to focus on school, a career, health, social life, or relationships. But what good are any of those things if their foundation and the foundation of your entire life isn't God?

Don't get me wrong, all of those can be important parts of the story of your life and are not bad things at all. But ultimately, they don't fulfill you. They don't define you. And they don't last. They're small stories that can be part of the bigger story.

I've been realizing lately how radically different my life could be if I stopped focusing on the smaller stories and smaller goals and instead lived completely for God. How different my life would be if I let God's love consume me and flow through me into everything that I do. My life should not be compartmentalized into school, work, friends, and God. God should be my entire life. Everything else comes second to him.

If I truly trust God and believes that He loves me, then I can live my life completely unafraid and with absolute freedom. I don't have to focus on getting good grades in school so I can get a well-paying job so I can make lots of money so I can try to feel safe and happy and worth something, which is basically what America tells us we need to do. Instead of getting distracted by all of the smaller things, I can focus on God's will for my life. And that very well may mean becoming a millionaire or having a successful career, or it may mean moving to the slums of a third-world country to enter into the lives of suffering people, or it may mean raising three kids in quiet suburbia. What matters isn't what job I have or where I live. What matters is what drives me. If my goal in life is to be "successful" by the world's standards, or happy, or popular, or beautiful, or married, or smart, then I'm missing the bigger picture.

You don't put God in a box in a corner. He is the all-consuming, overflowing, overwhelming, defining center of everything. Imagine how overpowering love would be, how intense passion would be, how boundless joy would be, how beautiful pain and suffering would be, if we let God completely take over our lives.

It's so easy to get distracted by trying to be happy in this world before we die and forget that we're made for something more. Our stories are so much bigger. And I want to live a life that reflects that. I don't want to get caught up in the small things. I want to live with God at the center of everything I do. I want to live freely, unafraid, and unashamed. I want to live loudly, boldly, joyfully, passionately. I want to live openly, lovingly, compassionately. I want to live and die knowing that my life glorified God. Because ultimately, He's all that matters.

"To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace." - Romans 8:6

Love,
Amanda

Remembering.

Three years ago today, I was made painfully aware that my life wasn't all tied up in a pretty, neat little box. Until then, I had gone about my life relatively carefree (at least, so I thought). Not that everything was perfect. But in general, I thought my family, and I individually, had everything pretty much together. And when feelings of doubt or unease crept in and threatened that positive image, I would ignore them.

But suddenly I couldn't ignore them anymore. I went to bed one night with the "happy family" image secure in my mind, and woke up the next morning to find that image shattered and destroyed. I couldn't ignore the pain and dysfunction anymore: they were exposed and shoved in my face pretty violently.

The three years since then have been more painful than anything I could ever have imagined. I watched my parents' relationship fall apart. I watched it slowly begin to mend. And then I watched it fall apart again. I watched family members struggle with serious health issues. I watched my parents divorce, my siblings cry because they hadn't seen their dad in over a year, my mom learn to be single, and my dad deal with his pain. I watched my mom and siblings move across the country. And eventually, somewhere in all that time, I watched myself break and struggle with depression, anxiety, an eating disorder, and a hundred other things.

I say I "watched" all of these things, and a lot of the time it did seem like I was watching someone else's life play out in front of me. But it was more like these things happened to me, impacting me, slapping me in the face, violently dragging me on through life. And sometimes I added to the chaos.

And yet I wouldn't trade these past three years for anything. Yes, I wish my parents were still together. Yes, I wish I didn't have to deal with the emotional pain and trauma every single day of my life, and watch others deal with it. But in those years, I have experienced more joy and happiness and peace, more pain and grief and anger, and more contentment and faith and hope then I had ever dreamed possible. I have grown and learned and been humbled in ways I would never have been otherwise. Deeply rooted dysfunction and pain that had been present in my family for years was uncovered, and we finally began to deal with it. And I am so incredibly grateful for that.

I am in awe of how God uses pain, brokenness, and sin and makes something beautiful out of it. If you had told me a year ago that all the horrible things that had happened would someday seem beautiful and worth it, I might have slapped you in the face and I certainly wouldn't have believed you. But looking back now, I see God's hand in everything.

I still hurt. My heart aches every day with sadness, grief, and pain. There are times when I almost want to trade all the lessons I learned just to have a family that's not broken, or just to be "normal." But ultimately, I am incredibly grateful for what I've learned and how God has worked in my life and the lives of those around me. So incredibly grateful.

Today is day of remembering. Painful, yes. But for the first time, today makes me thankful and joyful too. And that completely blows me away.

"We know that all things work together for good for them that love God, for them who are called according to his purpose." ~ Romans 8:28

Love,
Amanda

Peace.

Sometimes I am completely blown away by how blessed I am.

I tend to be a bit of a pessimist and focus on the hard, painful things in my life, and the times I feel sad, hurt, angry, lost, or confused. I realized recently that there haven't been many times in the past few years (or maybe in my entire life) that I have truly felt peace and joy. Yes, I can plaster on a cheerful face, and obviously there have been lots of times when I've been happy. But that overwhelming feeling of peace and security has not been present very often.

Recently, however, I've been realizing just how incredible God is and just how much he has blessed me. Yes, I'm still a pessimistic a lot. But I'm learning to feel the peace and thankfulness along with the other things. I have never felt this loved and secure. Even though there are things in my life right now that are terrifying and that I'm not in control of, and difficult decisions to make, and past and present pain and hurt to deal with, I feel at peace. That doesn't mean that I don't still feel the pain and don't feel scared and stressed. Just today, as I am writing this, I received a letter that reminded me I have a really hard decision to make, and I had a conversation that left me hurting and confused. But those feelings aren't so utterly consuming anymore. I can acknowledge that they're there and are very real and legitimate, but not let them block out the good things in my life.

Even amidst pain or stress, there's an underlying peace. I am truly joyful. I have been been thanking God for the blessings in my life, not because it's part of some prayer checklist or because I think I should be thankful, but because my heart is bursting with thankfulness. I'm blown away by how much God loves me and has blessed me.

I'm learning to focus more on the good. I'm letting myself feel God's peace. And it's wonderful.

"Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful." ~ John 14:27

Love,
Amanda

Becoming a Moses.

Recently I've been reading a book by a family friend, Chuck DeGroat, called Leaving Egypt: Finding God in the Wilderness Places. I would highly recommend it; it's an incredible book that uses the Exodus story as an analogy for our lives and the struggles we face. But one theme in particular struck a chord with me. Chuck talks about challenging people, and having people in your life that are willing to be honest with you and say what you need to hear. He calls this kind of person a "Moses" in your life, and he says that they can challenge us "with a vision for life beyond my brokenness" and "to become a unique image of God."

After reading this, and through a few conversations with different people, I'm realizing that I need more challenging in my life. I need to be more active about letting others know that I am open to being challenged, and then have an open, humble mind when I am challenged. I also need to be more willing to challenge other people.

I need to be more open to being challenged by others, and make it clear that I am open to it. I am a proud person, and when people point out my flaws and mistakes, my first instinct is to get defensive and present myself in a better light. But I really do want to people to challenge me and tell me when I'm in error.  There are blind spots in my life that are painfully obvious to other people, but that I am blissfully unaware of, or unwilling to face. So to anyone reading this, know that I am open to being challenged and actually would really appreciate it. And I am working on receiving criticism and hard truths with humility and an open mind.

I also need to challenge others more than I do, and with a better mindset. A lot of the time, I'm too scared to challenge someone when I see them doing or thinking something wrong or harmful. I'm scared that they will respond with anger or hurt, and not want to be friends with me anymore. But this is a selfish fear. If what I'm doing is really done with wisdom and love, and will help someone live a more godly life or open their eyes to something they need to be made aware of, then I need to put them first. If I really loved them, I would do what was best for them, rather than holding back just to protect myself.

I'm also scared that I don't have the wisdom to tell someone what they need to hear, and that I'll do more harm than good. This is probably a healthier fear to have, because I obviously don't know everything and could potentially do serious damage and really hurt people by speaking what I mistakenly think is the truth. But again, if I sincerely love the person I am challenging, want what's best for them, and seek God's wisdom constantly, then I have to trust that God can use me to say what needs to be said.

A challenger will not be focused on pointing out flaws or getting rid of the bad in a person's life. Going back to Chuck's words about a "Moses" figure, the best challenger is one that seeks to bring the other person to a healthier place, a place more in line with God's will for their life. I need to keep this in mind as I challenge others, and I hope that my friends will keep it in mind when they challenge me.

This is the type of community I want to have. A challenging, thoughtful, loving community that always seeks to help each other lead lives more in line with God's word. A community that isn't afraid to speak the truth in love. A community that is willing to listen to others with humility. A community that is open about their flaws and addictions and hardships and is confident in receiving honest, godly feedback and love from those around them.

I hope that someday God can use me to be a Moses in someone's life, and I hope that others feel the freedom to be a Moses in my life.

Love,
Amanda

Vast and brilliant.

"Don't be delicate. Be vast and brilliant."

I read this quote, and it stirs something inside of me. I feel incredibly weak, and incredibly empowered.

First of all, I don't think that being delicate is a bad thing. Actually, I think that being delicate can sometimes be good and healthy. Sometimes it's good to acknowledge our weakness and helplessness, and seek help from God or those around us. We can't always be strong. And sometimes we are just physically or emotionally delicate and that's who we are; it's not wrong.

But to me, this quote doesn't mean that kind of physical delicacy or healthy weakness. It's talking about unhealthy delicacy and weakness. It's telling me to not be held back by fear or sensitivity. I tend to be extra sensitive to other people's opinions and feelings, and let what they think of me or say to me affect me more than it should. My mood, mental state, feelings, and opinion of myself depend way too much on other people. I also live with a lot of constant fear and anxiety. I'm afraid of the future, afraid of being hurt, anxious about relationships with others, anxious about other people's mental or emotional state, and a whole host of other things. These things hold me back from having healthy relationships and a healthy self-image, and living a free and joyful life. They make me delicate in an unhealthy way.

When I read this quote, I'm inspired to throw off the chains of fear and hypersensitivity. I want to be like the Proverbs 31 woman: "Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs without fear of the future." I want to be so secure in God's love for me that I am no longer controlled by other's feelings. I want to put all my trust in God, and truly believe that He will take care of me, so I no longer have to be afraid.

I want these things so I can be "vast and brilliant." I want to be free to explore the full extent of who God has created me to be, experience this beautiful world He has made to its fullest potential, and receive and give love abundantly. I want to be free to learn and exist and dream and laugh and think and write and cry and grow. Obviously it is impossible for us to be completely free of sin and weakness. But in Christ, we have the incredible opportunity to acknowledge our weakness and still live a life of such freedom and joy that would be impossible otherwise.

This is my dream. I am so inadequate and fail so often. I am frail and weak. I am chained by sin, addiction, pain, and pride. I doubt God's love, I don't trust Him with everything, and I try in vain to be self-sufficient. But God can make me stronger, freer, more beautiful, and more glorious than I can dream. In Him, I am no longer delicate, but vast and brilliant.

Love,
Amanda

Iridescent love.

"But every once in a while, you find someone who's iridescent, and nothing else can compare." ~ Wendelin Van Draanen

Sometimes there's that one person that stands out and shines brighter than everyone else. They make you feel like you could go anywhere and do anything. They make you feel content to sit in one place for hours with them beside you and talk about everything or nothing at all. They speak the language you never knew you needed desperately to hear. When you're with them, things make sense. When you're passionate about something, you see that passion reflected and magnified in their eyes. When you hear a song, or read a book, or watch a movie that moves you deeply, they are the person you want to share it with.

If I ever fall in love, it will be with someone iridescent. I'm not a sappy, gooey, happily-ever-after romantic. I don't want a perfect, all-tied-up-with-a-bow little love story. If I fall in love, I want it to be the kind of love that moves mountains, that both breaks me down completely and puts me back together again, that both shatters my world and makes it worth living. I want the kind of love that's achingly brilliant, painfully intense, agonizingly beautiful.

I don't need it to include extraordinary circumstances or events. The Titanic doesn't need to sink and the Montagues and Capulets don't need to be feuding. I just want the love to be extraordinary.

Maybe that's just as unrealistic as the fairytale-perfect love story. But I try to be a realist about love. Love isn't easy. Love isn't perfect. True love is painful and hard. But to go through that pain with someone by your side who loves everything about you and is willing to go through it all just to be with you? That's so much better than a love that's "easy."

I crave that iridescent, painful, beautiful, life-changing love. But I'm also terrified of it. I'm terrified of not finding it, of realizing that my dreams are just foolish castles in the clouds. I'm terrified of finding it, and not being able to handle it. I'm terrified of loving someone like this, and them not loving me back.

But still, this is my dream. Of course, there's so much more that's necessary. I want someone who accepts my flaws and loves me through my failures, who can point me to Christ, who will buy me flowers for no reason and read poetry to me. But ultimately, I want to fall in love with someone iridescent.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! It is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

~ Sonnet 116, Shakespeare 

Love,
Amanda