2014.

If you haven't noticed by now, I'm bad with words. In face-to-face conversations, through all forms of virtual interaction, in letters, and, yes, through this lovely little blog. I've typed out countless blogs just to follow up by clicking the 'delete' button, and hanging my head in shame of the stupid words that flowed from my fingertips. Every blog I've posted, I cringe whenever I go back and read the messy vocabulary and disoriented thoughts. They seem over-dramatic, brainless, and pointless in my mind. Because I'm bad with words. And my awkwardness doesn't help the cause.

Due to the lack of confidence in my writing/ranting skills, I fell into the worst writer's block I've ever experienced. But, of course, after months of said writer's block beginning, my mind stirred up something to bring the year to an end. It will probably be just as messy as my other blogs, but here's to going through with it and blabbering anyway.

As the New Year will ring in, in just a couple days, my brain has been working overtime, going through the events of 2014. This year was far from what I ever expected it to be, but exactly what I didn't know I needed it to be. So, to reminisce on all that happened, I've put together a list of the things I learned these last 12 months - good and bad. Here's what I came up with...

• Reading a whole book in one day is good for the mind.
• If I'm comfortable where I am, I shouldn't get too used to it because it will change.
• God will get to me in anyway He needs to.
• Trying to ignore the harshness of reality and live in a fantasy usually leaves me gasping for more.
• I can brush some things off my shoulder because they're not worth anything more.
• Some friendships aren't worth fighting for.
• Crying isn't something to be ashamed of.
• Denny's at midnight is the last place to be with a cold.
• Walls are made to fall down.
• God will always mend the broken pieces.
• Music really is good for the soul.
• It's not about the experience, it's about the lesson learned.
• Anything is fun with a California Sunshine and New Hampshire Sister.
• God replaces my definition of good with His definition of good if I let Him.
• Sometimes I have to go for a long ride in a "swagtastic" van and talk about the incredibleness of God and the sky and all the little things.
• Sometimes I have to pour out my heartache in that same van.
• Being barefoot as much as possible is good.
• Everything is perfect in His timing.
• Sitting on the floor and listening to friends jam is all I need at times to turn my week around.
• Taking life too seriously is harmful to my perspective.
• Nothing I do on this earth matters if it doesn't have an impact on eternity.
• It's not always a bad thing to fall in love with a Cucumber.
• When I'm all alone at a freezing outdoor concert to see friends, the amazing parents of a couple band members will bring me hot chocolate.
• Being myself doesn't push away the people God wants in my life.
• I am His Cathedral.
• Even people that work for a Christian music website with me and live light years away can be some of my greatest friends and support system.
• I don't have to try so hard.
• Worship isn't scheduled.
• I'm not in control of my own life, and that's more than alright.
• There's absolutely nothing wrong with dancing at a concert in a college chapel with your friends.
• The problems of others greatly exceed mine.
• There's beauty in sticky, hot, summer days, with the addition of an aggressive thunderstorm, at a camp in the middle of nowhere.
• Stepping back and taking a breath is okay.
• Laughter and joy is necessary.
• The fear of judgement controls me.
• Sporadic conversations in a makeshift recording studio/shed can refresh my spirit.
• Bonfires are friendship-makers.
• Some people love me for me and they are the ones who matter.
• Selfies are good.
• Sitting in the grass and listening to local bluegrass bands with one of your best friends brings a feeling of belonging.
• An emoji, or lack of, doesn't prove someone's like or dislike of me.
• Loving people is everything.
• I want to know Jesus more than anything.
• He'll lead me where I belong.
• Everything will be okay.

2014, you'll be hard to beat, but I'm hoping 2015 is a good competition.

"The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is." -C.S. Lewis

Where The Grass Withers.

                                                                                                                                    (Photo of me by Rachael Keyes)

It's a rare occurrence for me to sit around at a festival. I'm always running all over the place to get to the different stages and interviews, looking for my group of friends, trying to find the cheapest water, accidentally sneaking into artist catering, or taking a breather for a few minutes to post to social media by talking to a musician friend in a random merch tent. I have moments where even in the big crowds I feel more alone than I ever have in my entire life. I'm on the brink of crying too many times because my mind can't quiet down long enough to stay sane in a place where happiness isn't hard to come by. I feel so excited but so stressed at the same time.

To be honest, this was at just one festival... and it was just over a week ago. The festival had me all over the place and by the end of it, I felt like a zombie. The professional side of me expected it, but the fan side of me wished for more time to hangout and take it easy, and enjoy one of my favorite places on earth in a more carefree way. I had the time of my life listening to the music, seeing one of my favorite bands, and being with friends here and there, but it seems like the bad outweighs the good in my mind. I needed a long break after it all, to say the least.

Three days ago I went to a local bluegrass festival that a family I'm friends with started. I knew I would have fun because of the people there, but my main motive for going was to just get out and maybe practice my photography more; having fun wasn't a priority.
It was located in a big, grass-covered field down a long, winding road in the heart of a town that I've only visited a handful of times. The stage looked like the side of a barn with instruments hanging off the back wall and around 20 feet away was a large tent with lawn chairs filling the interior where the audience would spend their day. I took my camera and had all intentions of continuing the busy feeling that I had the week before, but I actually ended up leaving it in the car, saying that I would go back after lunch and get it.

My friend and I spread out a soft blanket that she made on the grass, right at the edge of the tent where we would be front and center for the shows, and planned on staying there through the events of the day. If it rained we would be covered, but the sun could still reach us enough to keep my love for summer in place. Not long after we made our home on the blanket, another friend joined us and we began talking nonstop like girls do so well. A band that I can't recall listening to very much was playing not far off in front of us, but our chatter blocked out whatever was happening. All I can remember of this band was that they went from playing an old hymn to singing about a wanting a woman. (I'm pretty sure that I said, "Bluegrass music is weird," at least a billion times that day.)

I've always had a habit of plucking out the grass around me when I'm sitting on the ground. Maybe it's a nervous habit, maybe it's just to keep myself busy. Whatever it is, I do it all the time no matter where I am or who I'm with. So, though we were sitting on a blanket, I had my hands over the side, constantly plucking out needles of grass and then dropping them off to the side. Through the conversing, music, and just about everything else going on, the grass around me would always be getting the blunt of the madness going on in my mind.

My friends noticed the habit and went on to explain that if you pull a piece of grass with the right amount of tension, instead of just breaking, it will smoothly slide out of the root without snapping in half. It sometimes would tear a little bit and seem weaker by the time you go it out, but it would be whole. Every part of it was there and still holding together. So, of course, instead of viciously yanking at the grass, after that I spent my time seeing how many needles of grass I could pull out of the ground in one piece.

One-by-one, I tried and failed. With one success came at least ten failures. Sometimes I would even tear up the whole root by accident, dragging along the dirt and messy side of the grass that no one sees, but then I would toss it and start again.

As I stared down at the bright green color, some words fought through the circus of my mind and stumbled out of my lips into the noise of the festival... "This would make a good analogy."

To my relief, the one friend that heard it agreed and said that they were thinking the same thing, so I went ahead and briefly explained what I meant. And now, after days of thinking about it more than I needed to, I'm about to compare life to the grass in the field of a bluegrass festival in Maine.

When we rely on other people to get us out of hard times, troubles, heartache, and despair, more than not, we end up being viciously broken in half and thrown away. Left torn in two where we can be kicked around and stepped on by others that pass by. Our source of strength, safety, and life are left behind, stuck in the deeply rooted problems. Even the people that try so hard to be careful can accidentally ruin it in the end. And it's not just other people; I will be the first to admit that I've done the same thing to myself. Whenever I think I can do things on my own because I should be strong enough, I fail. I'm either left where I was before but with less vibrancy and life, or I wither away to nothing.

With God, things are so different. He knows exactly how to fix us. He pulls us through with just enough tension that we get out in one piece, even if we have a few tears and flaws. We're hurt but not broken; weak but not destroyed. Sometimes a bit of the dirt and mess of our problems that no one sees are pulled through with us, but God brushes us off over time and cleanses us of our pain. He holds us in His hands and cares for us, keeping us safe and whole. Then, when we're ready, He takes us with our clean roots and plants us in a new field and gives us a chance to grow again. He waters us with His love and mercy, and shines down on us in brilliant light.

I spent the whole day at this festival trying to comprehend my own thoughts. By the time I figured out that I was the grass, the sun was sleeping and I had moved from our spot under the tent to the cold ground halfway between the tent and stage. I was huddled under blankets with a big group of the people that made my day fun as we bid farewell to the festival by cheering on two of our friends that were ending it all with their sweet music. The ongoing stress from the days so near in the past seemed to subside from my mind and the break that I so needed was found in the joy of the little things around me on a cool summer night.

"The Bible tells us that God will meet all our needs. He feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass with the splendor of lilies. How much more, then, will He care for us, who are made in His image? Our only concern is to obey the heavenly Father and leave the consequences to Him." -Charles Stanley

The Dirty, Muddy, Torn-up Doormat.

                                                                                                                                             (Photo from tumblr.com)

I like to think I'm good at a lot of things. Things that I'm really terrible at. Like listening with every part of me when a friend is talking, always centering my life around God completely, praying about anything and everything, putting others before myself, being optimistic, being the perfect pastor's kid, and the list goes on. I'm really terrible at the stuff that a "good" Christian should rock at.

But there is one specific thing I'm really good at... letting the words of other's destroy me.

There's no doubt that you should take what others say and give it some thought. Not doing so would be pretty careless, cruel and arrogant in my book. That is, if the words spoken are out of concern or love. I cherish opinions and advice from people that have the right hearts; I know that their words will more than likely improve my character in some way.

And then on the other hand, we find the fine line between thinking about what others say and living what others say. I like to call these people doormats.

A doormat is someone that let's others say what they want, do what they want, and all the like, and they just take it. People walk on them like a doormat. It's like you're there saying, "No, it's fine, I'll just brush off all of the dirt later," and that dirt is the harsh words they throw on you over time. And here's a confession...

I am a dirty, muddy, torn-up doormat.

My edges are frayed and unraveling, heaving into a slight roll from the wear and tear; my exterior is roughly torn and scratched from the constant sweeping of feet and dirt upon me; filth is impacted and matted into my being from the lack of TLC and proper cleansing; I'm wearing thin. The dirt shed on me is never turned over to the One that can properly cleanse me and make me new because the feet spreading the destruction are never turned away. This rotting doormat keeps welcoming them.

To make a long story short, I let people control me far too often. If I think it will make them happy, I sacrifice my own joy to keep myself free from confrontation and conflict. Sure, it makes sense. But sometimes God wants us to experience that joy and push aside the harmful words that make us inflict suffering on ourselves by sacrificing it.

I'm writing this because just yesterday I let another person's words tear me apart so badly that I almost gave up a giant opportunity that I have been wanting for years. Just because someone was too selfish to be happy for me. And as hard as it is to say that, it's sometimes okay to want people to be happy for you. It gives you a much needed boost of self-approval that everyone needs here and there.

So in closing... get off the floor, go to the One who can fix you and heal you, and stop being a doormat. Joy is too precious to give up for the people that boast in your weakness. You need to boast in your weakness because you know that He will make you strong.

The Compass.

It seems like for the last week I've been hit by attacks everywhere I turn. I switch directions and there's another tidalwave waiting for me. I'm like a compass. I bounce from point to point, but everywhere I turn, I'm heading towards failure.

It's currently 12:43am.

Andrew Belle is playing quietly through my earbuds, the soft hum of my fan is peaking through in the silent moments of songs, a fuzzy blanket is wrapped around me, a Facebook chat bubble is binging with messages from a friend as I complain about life, my head is resting on my favorite squishy pillow, and the light from my phone screen is illuminating the lurking darkness surrounding me. As my thumbs type away, I catch myself with an involuntary scowl creasing on my forehead from the countless thoughts flowing through my tired, aching head. A lump has made home in my throat and a dampness pokes at the edges of my eyes in the most subtle, calming way.

The moments leading up to this outcome are in a foggy haze of a memory. It seems like my surroundings outside of my family are crumbling piece by piece, but I can't even pinpoint specific situations or reasons for that conclusion.

Being attacked on all sides seems to be one of the worst feelings I've come across. Not a day goes by that doesn't include the feeling of pushing away a friend unknowingly, messing up what could be a big opportunity, having the only thing that seems like mine suddenly taken from me, or even something as small as not receiving an important email bothering me. The use of an emoji or punctuation in a message can make me feel hated and the timing of a certain Facebook post can make me feel forgotten. From big things to small things, everything hurts in some way.

I keep asking myself what I'm doing wrong, why I keep messing things up, and why I can't stop. Why can't I get anything right? But after talking to some friends tonight, I'm starting to wonder what I'm doing right. It's always after something good that a storm comes. The storm pushes me away from that something good and makes me hide from everything until it's over. Then that something good is gone and I'm temporarily happy again.

It always in these times that I forget that I'm not alone. I forget that my Savior is right beside me saying, "Just trust Me." He's waiting for me to rely on Him and trust Him with everything in me through these times of struggle, but I get too distracted by the afflictions to give Him a second thought.

I can't imagine how He feels when He sees His children in shackles but they won't turn to Him. It's kind of like we have a blindfold over our eyes and we're in a dark maze, only using things that we can touch to guide us along. But Jesus is down the dark and narrow path, with His arms open, waiting for us to take a step of faith into the unknown. He keeps laying down stepping stones for us to follow, but we're too focused on guiding ourselves along the wall to notice them. He's trying to be our compass, but we put the hassle on ourselves because we think we know what's best.

It has taken far too long for me to realize that directing myself through life always ends it catastrophe. I still haven't completely figured it out, honestly. But with Jesus, I can let it all go and get the weight of leading my life in the right direction off my shoulders. That's His job and I don't want to get in the way.

So here I am pushing myself away from the safety of the maze wall, and finding my footing on the small stepping stones. I'm taking the leap of faith and facing the dark and narrow path because I know that my Light is at the end.

The Social Situation.

Last night, I changed my profile picture on Facebook. Pretty ordinary, right? I'd say so. 

I spent more time than necessary choosing a selfie that was at the ideal angle, in the right amount of lighting, and then choosing a filter that would make my skin look smooth and porcelain-like. I would stare at it for a few minutes and critique every inch of the photo before going back and trying more filters and editing techniques. When I finally decided on something that made me look good without making me look fake, I stared at it a little more with anxiety and hopefulness coursing through me and finally saved it to my phone's gallery. I then posted it on Instagram with a cute, little Switchfoot lyric to see if it would get a good response before taking it to the big stage of Facebook, where many more people would be seeing my face on their news feeds. As soon as I got a couple comments and enough likes to the point that instead of showing usernames I just saw a number, I decided that it was Facebook ready.
I waited until the perfect time where a good handful people were online and daringly clicked the Update Profile Picture button where I could take the plunge of uploading the new photo.

And then it happened.

My profile picture changed and I sat with my phone held tightly in my hands, refreshing my notifications time and time again, waiting to see the sign of my first like to pop up. My stomach was in knots and a nervous lump had made home in my throat. The nervous habit of chewing on my bottom lip was making an appearance as I stared down at the small screen of the digital device, and waited to see this version of my weekly self-worth poll. When I got five likes within just ten minutes, I was comfortable with leaving the photo for a little while longer instead of deleting it and trying again another time.

And now here I am, still checking my notifications while I write about this obsession I have with social approval and acceptance. 

"If you’re accepting feelings of doubt, inadequacy, self-hatred, and fear produced from the opinions of critics that don’t love you or want to see you become the best you can be, then you’re handing over your power to someone who doesn’t deserve it." -Christa Black, God Loves Ugly

It seems that whenever I'm seeking the approval of social media, I'm left wanting more and never feeling satisfied. I'm left with the feeling that I still haven't reach the level of acceptance that I'm so hungry for, and that I think I need. The words that are left lingering in my mind are, "Am I beautiful yet?"

I'm letting my self-worth become reliant on the opinions of people that won't give their like on my profile picture a second thought. When I don't get likes, I get down on myself. When I do get likes, I tell myself that I must be prettier in that picture than I usually am. How messed up is that? Something so irrelevant and stupid is making a huge impact on how I feel about myself and how much I think people like me. 

Social media has destroyed all traces of finding my worth and acceptance in God - the only One that I should be looking to.

Not caring about the opinions of others and only focusing on what God thinks of me is much harder said than done. I'm a teen girl living in a world that puts appearance above anything else. Appearance seems to be all the media cares about these days, and it's constantly being thrown in our faces. As soon as it feels like you're going down the right path with God and you have all of your priorities in order, the media is always right behind you with another new reason to feel like you're not good enough.

Five sparrows are sold for only two pennies, and God does not forget any of them. But God even knows how many hairs you have on your head. Don’t be afraid. You are worth much more than many sparrows. (Luke 12:6-7 NCV)

I'm not writing this to confess a past problem and then magically have the perfect Christian solution; I'm writing this to admit that I have a warped view on the meaning of self-worth and I'm trying to work on it. I'm not perfect and neither are you, so why not admit it and work on it together?

“The only way to replace the lies with the truth is to bring them into the light and acknowledge them first.” -Christa Black, God Loves Ugly

And thus begins my attempt at a blog...