Mar 05 2016
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Identity

suck it, February

Holland

I’ll be the first one to say it: February sucks.
I really don’t like it.
Praise Jehovah it’s the shortest month on our calendar.

It’s so dark & cold & usually wet with snow, ice, or just cold water in general. It’s dreary and lonesome. The holidays are over. There’s nothing to look forward to.

February sucks.

It is historically my hardest month. I think I cry more tears in February than I do in other months. I definitely know this February I did.

One of the reasons I think it sucks is that it comes right after January – a month of fresh starts and new hopes for the year. It comes right after a time of renewal – when we pledge that this year is THE YEAR we will see X, Y, and Z through. We promise ourselves we won’t fail this time around. That we have changed. We are better people than we were last year.

And then…

FEBRUARY.

We have failed. We stopped before we ever really got started. We haven’t changed and we aren’t better people.

February reminds me that I am incapable of being my own savior – and that is hard. Mainly because I have control & trust issues & still sinfully hold on to the thought that God doesn’t want me if I don’t come to Him clean.

February has seen some high spots too. My most fun Galentine’s to date (bar’s raised, 2017…). New friendships developed & strengthened. My first car payment cleared the bank. But overall, not the greatest month I’ve ever had.

This February I have felt my loneliness in deeper ways that I have in a while. I have felt the enemy attack me in ways I thought he couldn’t touch anymore. I have felt like a failure in my job & to my friends.

Have I mentioned that February sucks?

But, praise God, today is March 5th. And you know what that means? February is over.
The despair of the month no longer has a hold on me.

February is like the darkness of my sin. It is like the valley the psalmists write about over & over. It is this heavy feeling that never seems to go away.

And March. Well, March is like Jesus. March brings newness. March brings promise that what is will not always be. March reminds me that the grave is open & Christ is risen! March signals the end of darkness & the beginning of new light.

I know March isn’t technically spring, but it is spring for my soul. It brings forth new hope that, even though I failed after January, February ends.

Jesus brings forth hope that, even though my sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow. That in Him I am a new creation – the old, broken, failed, marred person is gone, and behold, the new has come.

March reminds me that the calendar moves forward. That Jesus moves forward & cleanses me of all unrighteousness.

I can claim my security in Christ because He has once & for all redeemed me – failure and all.

I don’t want to hope in my ability to muster up enough strength to make it through. I want my hope to be built on Christ alone. Not just resting on, but built upon Jesus. That His mercies are new every morning & my past sin, darkness, failures, etc. are forgotten by the Spotless One.

Perfect redemption is for you & me, today.
March is here.
February can suck it.

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Feb 24 2016
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Identity

revive me again

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Chances are I’ve probably already written about the Psalm I’m going to write about tonight. But if I can’t remember it, I doubt you can. And if you do, then, dddaaannnnggg, thanks for supporting a sister!

A couple summers ago I heard a sermon on Psalm 85 that rocked me to my core. So much so, I still have my notes from that Sunday [although, that’s probably not much of a shocker to those that know me well…]. And turns out, it was the day before my birthday that year! #blessed

I’ve read and read and re-read that Psalm so many times since. In it, the psalmist does a few things:

  1. Reminds the Lord of what He has done
  2. Begs for revival
  3. Reminds himself of what the Lord has done & that He is capable & willing to do it again

I find this pattern necessary in my life. I need to remind God of what He has done in my life, and in doing so, I’m reminding myself of His past faithfulness – that God has showed up in my life on countless occasions. That He is a God that loves and is for His people.

It reminds me that I need to keep showing up. I need to beg for revival. I remember ever so clearly what the preacher said that Sunday morning. Verses 6 & 7 say, “Will you not revive us again, that your people may rejoice in you? Show us your steadfast love, O Lord, and grant us your salvation.”

The preacher then said, “Ask for that. Beg for that. Beg for God to revive you again so that you may rejoice in Him! And when the answer is no, for today, get up again tomorrow and ask again! Continue to show up with God; fight for the revival in your soul.”

OKAY FINE! I WILL!

But then I don’t.
I fight for a couple days, then I decide the fight isn’t worth it.
I beg for a while, but then I get tired of begging m.
I want instant, blatant satisfaction. I’m not willing to wait on the Lord and thirst for God the way the psalmists did.

But the good news is that God is still God, and God is still good. Even on the days when I don’t ask Him for His goodness.

He will revive His people again, so that we may rejoice in Him.

There’s so much to be said about the words penned in the 85th psalm, but the simplest thing to say is that it’s all for His glory. Revival of my soul is not for my temporary happiness or earthly satisfaction. It is for God and God alone. “Yes, the Lord will give what is good.” (v12) And the ultimate good is Himself.

So, I pray for that tonight, tomorrow, in the coming days – that He may revive me again, so that I may rejoice in Him.

 

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Feb 17 2016
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Friendship, Relationships

redeeming lies

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If there’s 7 things I’m good at, one of them is believing lies about myself. On the Meyers-Briggs personality type, I’m an INFJ, which basically means if you sneeze in my direction and don’t smile at me after, I’m going to think that you don’t like me and probably never will. And I’ll come to that conclusion in about .4 seconds.

I like to think of this as a quality that is endearing, and makes me, me! My friends get a little worn out by it.

Another thing this means for me is that if I ‘hear’ a lie – whether I actually hear it from a person or it’s the enemy whispering it in my ear – I believe it. Without reservation, I can cling to whatever is spoken:

“You’re incapable of professional growth.”
“You’re not worthy of meaningful friendships.”
“You’re missing your window of opportunity for marriage.”
“You don’t look like everyone else, so you’ll probably never attract a man.”
“You’re all alone.”
“You’re the only one that deals with that problem.”
“Your sin is unredeemable.”

And these are not lies I just made up on the spot for example’s sake. They are lies I have heard throughout my life.

Even typing them out just now, my initial reaction is to say, “Yep. You’re right computer screen. All of those statements are true.”

For the last 5 years, God has been in the business of redeeming those lies. Of softening my heart to hear His voice when He whispers, “You are my beloved child; with you I am well pleased.”

God has been opening my ears to hear His Truth spoken louder than the lies of the enemy.

One of the beautiful ways the Lord is doing that is through meaningful community. If you’ve read much of this blog at all, you’re probably thinking, “well, here she goes again, talking about her lady friends.” And you’re right. Here I go again. Working it in. Because those lady friends are in the business of speaking God’s Truth, not only to me, but to one another, and into the worlds in which they live.

This past Saturday I had 18 (at least, I think it was 18) of my favorite ladies (shout out!!! and to those that couldn’t make it…shout out!! hhhaaaayyyy) over for Galentine’s Day 2016.
I wrote this on my Instagram before they came over: “If you would’ve asked me 10 years ago if I would have (female friends) like I do, I would have said, ‘no. because relationships with women are hard & I don’t fully believe I deserve good friends.'”

If there’s anything that is true in my life right now, outside of Jesus, it’s that I have good friends. Deep, meaningful community in my life that I do deserve – and I deserve it because Jesus died on a cross in order to call me first to Himself, and then into a team of believers. A team to come alongside with, serving Jesus and loving others. As my pastor said a couple weeks ago, community happens when we encourage each other more to follow & love Jesus.

And redemption of lies happens when we allow the Truth of God’s Word and the fellowship of other believers to push us more & more towards the cross – where blood was shed and redemption took place once and for all. Killing lies that so easily ensnare us.

Now, don’t think that the lies listed above are nonexistent today. I still struggle with believing my feelings over Truth. However, God is redeeming them. Love is filling me up. And Truth is winning out.

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Feb 03 2016
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Identity

done with the quick fix

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I remember being a young person – around 10 years old – and someone walking up to me, poking me in the stomach, and giggling like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. I kinda smirked and laughed it away, but inside I felt this sense of, “Yep. This is who I am. I’m the fat, funny one that everyone can poke and laugh at. This is the life I’m made to live.”

I was an athletic kid. I’ve basically always been the shortest on any team, but when I started ‘filling out’ people started poking me. And challenging me to pizza eating contests and laughing when I would win.

Fast forward a few years. I’m in high school where looks matter and if you don’t have looks, well, hopefully you’re willing to lean in hard to self-deprecating humor so you can make the joke before others, that way it doesn’t hurt as bad, ya know.

I made my friends by being the non-threatening chubby girl that would boost their ego, gossip about whoever they were gossiping about, and eat whatever they put in front of me because they “bet I really couldn’t eat that too!”

When I got to college it was time for a new me. I was playing softball, working out twice a day with my team, eating in a college cafeteria (which basically means you don’t eat because it’s gross), and making changes. That lasted about as long as it takes for someone to binge Making a Murderer – I ended up leaving the softball team and spiraling into loneliness and depression. And food. Because, ya know, that’s who I am – the chubby one.

The one that isn’t worthy of love. Or friendship. Or identity outside of a Pillsbury Dough Boy chuckle.

 

The thing about being a human is that, unless you are old (like 99, I think), you are probably going to struggle with the questions of, “Who am I with/without this thing/person/place? What am I supposed to do with my life? Where does my identity lie?”

At 24, I was still working through a pretty big heartbreak, finding out who my friends were and what Godly friendship looked like, and struggling with the ‘fact’ that no man could ever love me if I weighed what I weighed. I was going to the gym, working out at least three times a week, and still the girl that every guy saw as just-a-friend. And I was convinced it was because I was overweight.

I was living in this world that tells me I have to operate like The Biggest Loser. That if I’m not losing 13-27 pounds a week, I’m not trying hard enough. I believed that this transformation of body, heart, and mind was going to be as easy as 3 hours in a gym every week. If a quick-fix couldn’t fix me, nothing could.

I would work out and eat well for a solid period of time, get on the scale, and see little to no change. Then I would go right back to the chips and cheese and pasta and guilt and shame and worthlessness that entrapped me to begin with.

And I would do that with the sin in my life as well. I would muster up enough Kayla-strength to hold back acting on temptations, and as soon as I fell back in to sin, more guilt, shame, worthlessness, etc. flooded my life.

I desired a quick fix of my exterior appearance but wasn’t willing to do the hard work on the inside – exposing my sin before my Creator and allowing Him to remove the weight of sin in my life.

The issue? The way I viewed myself. The way I believed that no one could ever love me because of my weight. The way that I doubted God’s goodness for me because I wasn’t under 150 pounds. The way that I still let food and comfort control how I lived my life.

 

It’s now February 2016 and I’m 26 years old. I don’t let people poke me in the stomach any more. I try not to let food be my source of comfort (all of the time – as you’ve probably figured out if you’ve ever at any time read this blog, I love queso. And bacon.) I have friends that love me enough to say, “You will be okay. I will help you. We will help each other. You are not these lies you believe about yourself.”

I do believe that I can live my life in a healthy way – exercising and eating so that I can glorify God in my body, not to make my body or the scale my god.

I no longer believe that I need to lose 30 pounds in 30 minutes.

What I do believe, and what I’m learning, is that I am a beloved child of God. That I am loved, not only by God, but by people who see me for who God has made me. And I believe that all of life and all of sanctification is meant to be learned and grown in throughout all of life. I’m learning that giving myself grace is a process, and by shedding the guilt and shame that comes with trying and not succeeding, so going back to the same old habits, I’m shedding more weight than a literal pound can represent.

 

This past weekend I was at a baby shower of one of my best friends. Last April I celebrated another best and the impending arrival of her little one. 9 months apart the three of us took the same picture.

The biggest difference? I now see someone who is learning that her identity isn’t in her weight. Her identity isn’t in how her clothes look on her. Her identity isn’t in how many miles she can or cannot run without walking.

Her identity is in her Maker – who made her and calls her His, perfectly, whole, and without blemish.

“Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”-Psalm 51: 6-7, 10

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Jan 31 2016
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Relationships

communing well

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It’s Sunday and I just got done with church. Well, I didn’t just get done. I got done, then I went and ate some nachos, and now I’m having coffee. But, I went to church today. That’s the point of this whole thing.

One of my most treasured times at our church is that every week we partake in the meal of communion. Our Pastor presents the elements that Jesus instituted as the meal of remembrance for His people – that they would feast on this meal until the day He returns.

As we approach the table, the communion servers speak the words, “This is the body of Christ, the bread of heaven. The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation.” When I hear these words spoken over me, I think – every time – that I am given life by the Bread and redemption by the Cup.

I am often served communion by some of my best friends. And I get really emotional on those days. But that’s besides the point. Just a little extra nugget of what it’s like to be me. You’re welcome.

Dictionary.com defines communion as: “a group of persons having a common religious faith; association, fellowship; the act of sharing or holding in common.”

I love that every week, my church reminds me that I am in fellowship with the One who brings me life. That I participate and share in the act of redemption by the body & blood of Christ.

And communion is starting to mean a little more to me. I’m starting to realize that, as I walk down the isles to the table and as I partake in the elements of communion, that I am continually learning what it means to dwell with my Savior, and in a group of people who have a common faith. I am constantly learning that communing well with those around me means that I am open and honest about my life.

That I listen well to the needs of those around me.
That I not only pray for, but act on, the moments of joy and sorrow that enter into the lives of those I’m ‘communing’ with.
That I allow the truth of the Gospel – that Jesus’ body was broken and His blood poured out so that I can stand in right relationship with the Father – to transform my life. Not just for the sake of my happiness, but for the sake of His great name.
That I know in the depth of my soul that the meal Jesus offers will never run out – He will never say, “Sorry, we’re all out of queso.”

Communing well means that I receive and share in the redemption that Christ freely offers – no strings attached – and live in the freedom that my best efforts, and my worst moments, have no effect on the offering of the bread of heaven & the cup of salvation for me.

if you’re interested in knowing more about the lovely place I call ChurchHome, click here and join us some Sunday!

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