So tomorrow marks the first day of Andrew and me doing the Whole30 challenge (along with a friend and her hubby).
I'm not sure what to think about it all. Part of me is so excited to just get started - this weekend has been the biggest splurge ever I think and I feel TERRIBLE. But the other part of me is kind of freaking out. Will I be able to actually do this? Am I going to be regretting this tomorrow afternoon? Friday morning?
But honestly, I think the biggest part of me knows this will be good for me physically and spiritually.
Why?
I use food in place of Jesus more than I'd like to admit.
I use food for comfort. For stress release. For abating anxiety. As an entitlement.
In short, its not healthy. And I am not healthy.
So why am I really doing this "crazy" thing for 30 days? Because I know that life is more than sugar and processed foods. More than calming my nerves with food and eating because I am bored. For those of you who know my story, I've struggled with food for most of my life - nearly starving myself into rehab twice and never fully accepting that I won't be the skinny little middle schooler I used to be.
I'm doing this because I want to learn what it means to eat because I'm hungry. I want to be healthy. I want to give up using deodorant (if you think I'm crazy look it up - body odor has a lot to do with our diet and I would love to get to a point where my body doesn't produce as much foul smelling "glow" because I'm not putting toxins in...) and crave healthy food not sugar, Mac and cheese or Life cereal.
So, as I start this next month of eating only meat, veggies, fruit and good fats, I would love encouragement. When you're dying to tempt me with some amazing cake or sandwich or granola bar, please instead encourage me. Encourage me to seek Jesus for my comfort and emotional stability, to see boredom as something to sit in rather than run from, and to use food to sustain me not please me.
I'll be doing my best to blog through these 30 days - either recipes Andrew and I have found and loved (or hated), what I'm learning about my relationship with food and other random things that someone detoxing from sugar, diary, carbs and processed foods will blurt out :)
Here goes!!
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
A Letter To My Son
Dear Owen,
I don't know if you will ever read this letter, or if it will make smallest bit of sense when you do. Either way, I just wanted to get my thoughts down and free them from their prison, from my heart where they have been for weeks now. Nine and a half weeks now, to be exact.
First and foremost my sweet Owen, I love you.
You were the baby that I had prayed for for years. I made some incredibly unwise decisions with my life and my body before I met your Dada and was not positive that I would be able to have any children at all. You are my miracle baby. From the moment I found out that I was pregnant with you, I loved you. From that blurry and tear-filled moment when you first laid in my arms on a cold December afternoon, I praised the Lord for you. There is absolutely nothing you can say or do or be that will change the depth of my love for you Owen. I will always, fully, completely, to the best of my fallen heart's ability, love you.
Right now you are playing with your friends at their house for the afternoon. I'm getting picture updates from Ms. Morgan, so I know that you are sleeping well, and I am quite positive you are enjoying hanging out with your little buddies. God is awesome like that, isn't he? He provides people like Ms. Morgan and the other friends and our families who have brought us meals and taken care of you during these last nine and a half weeks. They have served our little family of three tenderly and sacrificially, and shown us the love of God practically and in more ways than I think they even have realized.
I miss you though Owen.
I miss waking up and snuggling you before you go and eat your Cheerios for breakfast. I miss tucking you in for all of your naps, and being the one to go into your room and get you when you are up from those (sometimes incredibly short...) naps. I miss cleaning the house with you, you following me around each room excitedly as I use our vacuum and Swiffer. I miss you cupping my head in your wee little hands and making me look into your eyes when, in some incredibly intuitive way, you knew I was having an OCD attack and I needed to stop cleaning and just be with you.
My buddy Owen, I miss your excitement as we walked to the park together. Your quick hands trying to grab every single DVD off of the shelves in the children's section of the library next door, and snuggling together with you in my Ergo while we walked to church, or Trader Joe's or to the bus stop.
It's been too long since we have done any of those things my sweet son. Months in fact. My heart grows lonely and, sadly, more downcast with each day I am sitting here on the couch while you are playing with a grandma or a friend. I feel like I have lost out on so many little moments with you.
If I'm honest with you Owen, I am scared that I am going to lose you.
I'm terrified that you will love your grandmas more than me, because they do fun things with you and I just sit here. I'm afraid that you will think I don't want to be on my hands and knees chasing you around the house and playing peek-a-boo, that I am bored of you.
Oh, my sweet Owen, I am not. Oh, my sweet, sweet baby, I am not.
I long to be able to spend the day with just you, like how we used to, but with a lot less of Mama cleaning the house frantically, and a lot more of laying on the grass in the park and giggling together.
You see Owen, Mama's sick. I'm not sure with what, or why, or for how long, but I'm sick. Your Dada and I are trying to figure out why, with my doctors and lots of other people that the Lord has blessed with incredible knowledge about how our bodies should work, and what needs to be done if they aren't working properly. We are praying that we figure something out soon, but right now it seems as if it just has to be a "wait and see" time. During this time, I want you to know that I love you and I miss you. I know we've talked about it many times, but I'm pretty sure you don't know what I mean when I hold you close and explain the situation, and that's okay. I'm praying that Jesus would comfort you when I cannot, and that he will give you joy that surpasses anything that I could give you or do with you.
Owen, I love you.
It's not your fault if Mama starts crying randomly, or if I just sort of stare off into space thinking about things I pray you never need to worry about in your life. You didn't cause any of this, and nothing you do will make me feel worse or better. If I depended on you to make me feel better, it would crush you and let me down brutally all in one fell swoop. No, Mama just needs Jesus right now. Like she always does. I just need Jesus.
I do want to apologize to you though, Owen. I haven't been willing to tell Jesus that I need him as much as I really do lately. Mama has been trying to do this, and fix this, on her own. It doesn't work, in fact, it will never work that way. But your Mama is prideful and stubborn, and rebellious (so don't let me ever tell you I can't believe you did or said so and so, because I'm a sinner just like you) and resting in Jesus has never come easily to me. But somehow I know that he has me, and is leading me beside still waters and restoring my soul right now (Psalm 23:2,3). Yes, even in this pain and loneliness and missing you, and longing for a present that is different than the present I have now. Even now.
So buddy, I know things just aren't the same as they used to be. And it's okay if that makes your heart sad, because it makes Mama's heart sad too. But please, oh my dear, please know that how Mama loves you right now has not lessened, it has only just changed how it's seen on the outside. I am not bored of being your Mama, nor will I ever be. I am not wanting to take a break or let someone else raise you. It's just that right now, Mama needs more help than she ever has before, and we get to let God help our family in some crazy awesome ways right now.
I can't wait to hear about your fun day with your friends. I can't wait to meet you and your Dada at the door in a few hours and give you a big hug and a snuggle and then read you some books before kissing you goodnight. I love you, so, so much Owen.
And Owen, one day, these tears that Mama's shedding, Jesus will wipe them all away. Sometimes you see Dada doing that - tenderly wiping my cheeks as tears stream down them, warm and salty, but one day I won't even cry again at all. It will be amazing.
Heavenly, in fact. Absolutely perfect.
Love you always and forever,
Your Mama
I don't know if you will ever read this letter, or if it will make smallest bit of sense when you do. Either way, I just wanted to get my thoughts down and free them from their prison, from my heart where they have been for weeks now. Nine and a half weeks now, to be exact.
First and foremost my sweet Owen, I love you.
You were the baby that I had prayed for for years. I made some incredibly unwise decisions with my life and my body before I met your Dada and was not positive that I would be able to have any children at all. You are my miracle baby. From the moment I found out that I was pregnant with you, I loved you. From that blurry and tear-filled moment when you first laid in my arms on a cold December afternoon, I praised the Lord for you. There is absolutely nothing you can say or do or be that will change the depth of my love for you Owen. I will always, fully, completely, to the best of my fallen heart's ability, love you.
Right now you are playing with your friends at their house for the afternoon. I'm getting picture updates from Ms. Morgan, so I know that you are sleeping well, and I am quite positive you are enjoying hanging out with your little buddies. God is awesome like that, isn't he? He provides people like Ms. Morgan and the other friends and our families who have brought us meals and taken care of you during these last nine and a half weeks. They have served our little family of three tenderly and sacrificially, and shown us the love of God practically and in more ways than I think they even have realized.
I miss you though Owen.
I miss waking up and snuggling you before you go and eat your Cheerios for breakfast. I miss tucking you in for all of your naps, and being the one to go into your room and get you when you are up from those (sometimes incredibly short...) naps. I miss cleaning the house with you, you following me around each room excitedly as I use our vacuum and Swiffer. I miss you cupping my head in your wee little hands and making me look into your eyes when, in some incredibly intuitive way, you knew I was having an OCD attack and I needed to stop cleaning and just be with you.
My buddy Owen, I miss your excitement as we walked to the park together. Your quick hands trying to grab every single DVD off of the shelves in the children's section of the library next door, and snuggling together with you in my Ergo while we walked to church, or Trader Joe's or to the bus stop.
It's been too long since we have done any of those things my sweet son. Months in fact. My heart grows lonely and, sadly, more downcast with each day I am sitting here on the couch while you are playing with a grandma or a friend. I feel like I have lost out on so many little moments with you.
If I'm honest with you Owen, I am scared that I am going to lose you.
I'm terrified that you will love your grandmas more than me, because they do fun things with you and I just sit here. I'm afraid that you will think I don't want to be on my hands and knees chasing you around the house and playing peek-a-boo, that I am bored of you.
Oh, my sweet Owen, I am not. Oh, my sweet, sweet baby, I am not.
I long to be able to spend the day with just you, like how we used to, but with a lot less of Mama cleaning the house frantically, and a lot more of laying on the grass in the park and giggling together.
You see Owen, Mama's sick. I'm not sure with what, or why, or for how long, but I'm sick. Your Dada and I are trying to figure out why, with my doctors and lots of other people that the Lord has blessed with incredible knowledge about how our bodies should work, and what needs to be done if they aren't working properly. We are praying that we figure something out soon, but right now it seems as if it just has to be a "wait and see" time. During this time, I want you to know that I love you and I miss you. I know we've talked about it many times, but I'm pretty sure you don't know what I mean when I hold you close and explain the situation, and that's okay. I'm praying that Jesus would comfort you when I cannot, and that he will give you joy that surpasses anything that I could give you or do with you.
Owen, I love you.
It's not your fault if Mama starts crying randomly, or if I just sort of stare off into space thinking about things I pray you never need to worry about in your life. You didn't cause any of this, and nothing you do will make me feel worse or better. If I depended on you to make me feel better, it would crush you and let me down brutally all in one fell swoop. No, Mama just needs Jesus right now. Like she always does. I just need Jesus.
I do want to apologize to you though, Owen. I haven't been willing to tell Jesus that I need him as much as I really do lately. Mama has been trying to do this, and fix this, on her own. It doesn't work, in fact, it will never work that way. But your Mama is prideful and stubborn, and rebellious (so don't let me ever tell you I can't believe you did or said so and so, because I'm a sinner just like you) and resting in Jesus has never come easily to me. But somehow I know that he has me, and is leading me beside still waters and restoring my soul right now (Psalm 23:2,3). Yes, even in this pain and loneliness and missing you, and longing for a present that is different than the present I have now. Even now.
So buddy, I know things just aren't the same as they used to be. And it's okay if that makes your heart sad, because it makes Mama's heart sad too. But please, oh my dear, please know that how Mama loves you right now has not lessened, it has only just changed how it's seen on the outside. I am not bored of being your Mama, nor will I ever be. I am not wanting to take a break or let someone else raise you. It's just that right now, Mama needs more help than she ever has before, and we get to let God help our family in some crazy awesome ways right now.
I can't wait to hear about your fun day with your friends. I can't wait to meet you and your Dada at the door in a few hours and give you a big hug and a snuggle and then read you some books before kissing you goodnight. I love you, so, so much Owen.
And Owen, one day, these tears that Mama's shedding, Jesus will wipe them all away. Sometimes you see Dada doing that - tenderly wiping my cheeks as tears stream down them, warm and salty, but one day I won't even cry again at all. It will be amazing.
Heavenly, in fact. Absolutely perfect.
Love you always and forever,
Your Mama
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Be Still My Soul
I think I have been waiting to write another blog post until something changed. Either I was suddenly better, getting gradually better, or had a word to describe what has been my life these past two months (as of tomorrow). None of these three apply to me today, but I guess I need to keep writing about what's on my heart, no matter if it's the same thing over and over again.
I'm finding myself saying more often "I can't wait to get back to a normal life" or some rendition of that sentence. Sitting here this afternoon, I literally cannot even remember how a normal daily routine was for me before all of this. Did I really hang out with Owen the entire day by ourselves? Did we really just randomly walk to the park or the library or to get froyo on the Ave? The thought of doing any of these things is something like how I used to think of Christmas or a vacation; my heart skips a beat at how exciting it would be and I am eager to look at my calendar and see the day circled and to count down until said exciting event.
But what happens when there's no count down? What happens when the event, or in this case, the life you're longing for, may or may not happen next week, or in a month, or in a year? How do you couple the longing for what's possibly ahead with the reality of the right now without living completely in a fantasy world or giving into the pain and spiraling into hopelessness?
I'm not sure.
It's this weird tension that I think more often than not I try to ignore and barrel through. And I have been able to barrel through pretty much each time I've been faced with a tension like this, an 'in between' I guess you could call it, because I've found something else to rest my eyes upon.
Unfortunately, most of these things I've found are reactionary and pointless at best. During pregnancy I researched constantly, filling the 'in between' tension with statistics and cribs and recalls and Thomas the Tank Engine onsies. During the years I longed to be married, I filled the 'in between' time with elaborate fantasies of my Prince Charming and a constant comparison and evaluation of nearly every man I came in contact with.
Today I'm in a new 'in between' time. The time between life as I knew it and life as I long for it to be. It's a time of loneliness, of depression, of darkness, of excitement of the possibility of feeling better and then the crash of over exerting myself. It is also a time of snuggles on the couch with my sweet baby, of top-of-the-head kisses from my best friend as he wheels me around in a wheelchair, of having the time to actually watch a book-crazy 16 month-old giggle his way through a pile of books, and of seeing how people around us embody care and encouragement and hope through their sacrifices and generosity and love and prayers.
But even as all of these things describe this 'in between' time, I can't seem to articulate what's really going on in my heart. That longing, no, desperation for answers and for change. The letdown of doctors appointments that confirm nothing but lead to more questions. The fear of nothing changing and of missing out on my life, my marriage, my son. The fear of this not being an 'in between' time.
The idea that this is actually a new normal petrifies me. But then again, at least I would know something, right? It's the not knowing of the 'in between' time that rattles me the most.
In the hours that I have had these last two months to sit and think, I've tried to set my eyes on so many things to distract me. I've pinned a ridiculous amount of pins to boards I may never even look at again. I've checked Facebook far too much and too often and I've posted way too many pictures of random things (and some adorable ones of Owen...) to Instagram. But I've honestly been so scared to just sit. To acknowledge before myself and, more importantly, before Jesus that I am impatient and anxious and scared and frustrated.
I don't want this anymore though.
I want to actually say how this is affecting my heart. I want to not try to cover up my fear with pins about cross stitching necklaces. I want to honestly tell Jesus what he already knows; that I don't want to pick between blowing bubbles with Owen and a lunch out with my mother-in-law because I just want to be able to do both in one day. I want to say aloud that I don't want to have to explain my symptoms one more time to another specialist, because I want them to be gone already. I want to no longer overthink whether or not I am actually sick as much as I think I am, or Andrew thinks I am, or if I am just overreacting.
I want to set my eyes on something other than distractions. Something other than my fears. Something other than myself.
I want to set my eyes on Jesus.
This doesn't mean this 'in between' season gets perfect and I'm all better and totally upbeat and positive about being sick or not being sick or whatever. It just means that I resist the urge to always be put together, to cry when things hurt, and to be vulnerable enough to admit my fears and frustrations. Honestly, all I actually need to do is rest. Rest in Jesus and his already totally finished work on the cross. Rest in the fact hat he was perfect so I don't have to be. Rest in the fact that he is interceding for me right now as I type. That he is my strength when my emotional and physical strength is completely gone and that he understands even when the people I cancel plans on last minute don't.
I'm not sure how to end this post, nothing seems quite sufficient. I know I posted some of the lyrics to a hymn I've been repeating over and over in my mind and soul lately in the previous post, but it seems apropos to end by including them in their entirety.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
I'm finding myself saying more often "I can't wait to get back to a normal life" or some rendition of that sentence. Sitting here this afternoon, I literally cannot even remember how a normal daily routine was for me before all of this. Did I really hang out with Owen the entire day by ourselves? Did we really just randomly walk to the park or the library or to get froyo on the Ave? The thought of doing any of these things is something like how I used to think of Christmas or a vacation; my heart skips a beat at how exciting it would be and I am eager to look at my calendar and see the day circled and to count down until said exciting event.
But what happens when there's no count down? What happens when the event, or in this case, the life you're longing for, may or may not happen next week, or in a month, or in a year? How do you couple the longing for what's possibly ahead with the reality of the right now without living completely in a fantasy world or giving into the pain and spiraling into hopelessness?
I'm not sure.
It's this weird tension that I think more often than not I try to ignore and barrel through. And I have been able to barrel through pretty much each time I've been faced with a tension like this, an 'in between' I guess you could call it, because I've found something else to rest my eyes upon.
Unfortunately, most of these things I've found are reactionary and pointless at best. During pregnancy I researched constantly, filling the 'in between' tension with statistics and cribs and recalls and Thomas the Tank Engine onsies. During the years I longed to be married, I filled the 'in between' time with elaborate fantasies of my Prince Charming and a constant comparison and evaluation of nearly every man I came in contact with.
Today I'm in a new 'in between' time. The time between life as I knew it and life as I long for it to be. It's a time of loneliness, of depression, of darkness, of excitement of the possibility of feeling better and then the crash of over exerting myself. It is also a time of snuggles on the couch with my sweet baby, of top-of-the-head kisses from my best friend as he wheels me around in a wheelchair, of having the time to actually watch a book-crazy 16 month-old giggle his way through a pile of books, and of seeing how people around us embody care and encouragement and hope through their sacrifices and generosity and love and prayers.
But even as all of these things describe this 'in between' time, I can't seem to articulate what's really going on in my heart. That longing, no, desperation for answers and for change. The letdown of doctors appointments that confirm nothing but lead to more questions. The fear of nothing changing and of missing out on my life, my marriage, my son. The fear of this not being an 'in between' time.
The idea that this is actually a new normal petrifies me. But then again, at least I would know something, right? It's the not knowing of the 'in between' time that rattles me the most.
In the hours that I have had these last two months to sit and think, I've tried to set my eyes on so many things to distract me. I've pinned a ridiculous amount of pins to boards I may never even look at again. I've checked Facebook far too much and too often and I've posted way too many pictures of random things (and some adorable ones of Owen...) to Instagram. But I've honestly been so scared to just sit. To acknowledge before myself and, more importantly, before Jesus that I am impatient and anxious and scared and frustrated.
I don't want this anymore though.
I want to actually say how this is affecting my heart. I want to not try to cover up my fear with pins about cross stitching necklaces. I want to honestly tell Jesus what he already knows; that I don't want to pick between blowing bubbles with Owen and a lunch out with my mother-in-law because I just want to be able to do both in one day. I want to say aloud that I don't want to have to explain my symptoms one more time to another specialist, because I want them to be gone already. I want to no longer overthink whether or not I am actually sick as much as I think I am, or Andrew thinks I am, or if I am just overreacting.
I want to set my eyes on something other than distractions. Something other than my fears. Something other than myself.
I want to set my eyes on Jesus.
This doesn't mean this 'in between' season gets perfect and I'm all better and totally upbeat and positive about being sick or not being sick or whatever. It just means that I resist the urge to always be put together, to cry when things hurt, and to be vulnerable enough to admit my fears and frustrations. Honestly, all I actually need to do is rest. Rest in Jesus and his already totally finished work on the cross. Rest in the fact hat he was perfect so I don't have to be. Rest in the fact that he is interceding for me right now as I type. That he is my strength when my emotional and physical strength is completely gone and that he understands even when the people I cancel plans on last minute don't.
I'm not sure how to end this post, nothing seems quite sufficient. I know I posted some of the lyrics to a hymn I've been repeating over and over in my mind and soul lately in the previous post, but it seems apropos to end by including them in their entirety.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.
Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.
Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessèd we shall meet at last.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
I'm not the Ashley Graeber of Sunnydale.
I'm not.
Lately, I've been comparing myself to that girl, and have been buying into the lie that because I was her I still am her.
But, I'm not.
In light of more tests coming back normal, and my OCD running completely wild within my mind and manifesting in more circular journaling and begs for reassurance, I have begun to assume I am no different than how I was in elementary school.
For those of you who don't know me all that long, let me give you a quick window into why this is such a struggle for me...
When I was in elementary school, I was the teacher's pet (still kind of am, let's just face it), the over-achiever (yup, still me), the perfectionist (guilty), and the hypochondriac (enter my current battle). I literally went to the nurse's office so frequently, I was well known by the office staff, and when I entered 4th grade was told by my teacher that she had "heard of me" and when I had her again the following year she said that I would "owe her big bucks" for all of the times she let me go to the nurse's office. I was constantly feigning injury, sickness, dizziness, and blindness (no, seriously. I don't even want to know the small fortune I wracked up for my parents as they took me to eye doctor after eye doctor all the while I was faking being blind because I was jealous of a friend who had a wheelchair and crutches for a busted up knee. Once again, Mom and Dad, I am so sorry...).
I still have no idea why I wanted all of that attention, why I wanted to be sick and get out of school so badly, but I did. No one ever believed me, and by the end of elementary school I was pretty much the laughing stock of my class - I was that girl. The drama queen, the one who always had to have something massive wrong and moan and ache. That was Ashley Graeber.
Back to today. My doctor talked to me and said that most of the tests I had done yesterday for several new things came back normal. As I hung up the phone, I immediately wanted to just sit and cry. Although I was partially excited that nothing massive was being detected, I felt more and more like I had to be making this up, it must all be in my head.
So here I am right now. Desperately clinging to the truth that I am not Ashley Graeber who went to the Sunnydale Elementary School nurse's office several times a week. Praying again and again that God would give me the strength, both mentally and physically, to continue this road that he has me on for his glory and my ultimate good. Fighting against the desire to say eff this, and push myself past every single ounce of energy I have left, ignoring all pain and light headedness and go until I pass out and then have something to actually complain about.
I want to say that I am so at peace with all of this, but I'm struggling right now. I want to say that I've been saturated in the Word, and that I have been sitting at the feet of my Savior, but I have been avoiding talking to the Lord, and have no idea why. I so badly want to end this post saying that I feel so much better, and that the more I push myself, the more I realize I can do so much more than I have been doing, but that's a lie.
I am tired. I ache, literally, all over. I feel alone and like a freak and totally numb to the truth I want to cling to right now more than ever.
But. Even as I write this, the words to one of my favorite hymns is coming to mind. Just because I'm singing it in my head doesn't mean that I am going to put on a happy face and fake it until I make it because with God all things are possible. Not even close. But it does mean that even in this valley and long and heavy season of my life, I totally believe that God is sovereign. That he loves me. That he died for me. And that whatever this season is, it is preparing me for an eternal weight of glory that is beyond any affliction and suffering I am presently walking through. Even if that suffering includes fear that I am faking this all and then having to stop typing because my fingers and wrists and forearms hurt so bad I can't continue...
Because I'm not Ashley Graeber. I am Ashley Titus, daughter of God, totally made new and redeemed.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Lately, I've been comparing myself to that girl, and have been buying into the lie that because I was her I still am her.
But, I'm not.
In light of more tests coming back normal, and my OCD running completely wild within my mind and manifesting in more circular journaling and begs for reassurance, I have begun to assume I am no different than how I was in elementary school.
For those of you who don't know me all that long, let me give you a quick window into why this is such a struggle for me...
When I was in elementary school, I was the teacher's pet (still kind of am, let's just face it), the over-achiever (yup, still me), the perfectionist (guilty), and the hypochondriac (enter my current battle). I literally went to the nurse's office so frequently, I was well known by the office staff, and when I entered 4th grade was told by my teacher that she had "heard of me" and when I had her again the following year she said that I would "owe her big bucks" for all of the times she let me go to the nurse's office. I was constantly feigning injury, sickness, dizziness, and blindness (no, seriously. I don't even want to know the small fortune I wracked up for my parents as they took me to eye doctor after eye doctor all the while I was faking being blind because I was jealous of a friend who had a wheelchair and crutches for a busted up knee. Once again, Mom and Dad, I am so sorry...).
I still have no idea why I wanted all of that attention, why I wanted to be sick and get out of school so badly, but I did. No one ever believed me, and by the end of elementary school I was pretty much the laughing stock of my class - I was that girl. The drama queen, the one who always had to have something massive wrong and moan and ache. That was Ashley Graeber.
Back to today. My doctor talked to me and said that most of the tests I had done yesterday for several new things came back normal. As I hung up the phone, I immediately wanted to just sit and cry. Although I was partially excited that nothing massive was being detected, I felt more and more like I had to be making this up, it must all be in my head.
So here I am right now. Desperately clinging to the truth that I am not Ashley Graeber who went to the Sunnydale Elementary School nurse's office several times a week. Praying again and again that God would give me the strength, both mentally and physically, to continue this road that he has me on for his glory and my ultimate good. Fighting against the desire to say eff this, and push myself past every single ounce of energy I have left, ignoring all pain and light headedness and go until I pass out and then have something to actually complain about.
I want to say that I am so at peace with all of this, but I'm struggling right now. I want to say that I've been saturated in the Word, and that I have been sitting at the feet of my Savior, but I have been avoiding talking to the Lord, and have no idea why. I so badly want to end this post saying that I feel so much better, and that the more I push myself, the more I realize I can do so much more than I have been doing, but that's a lie.
I am tired. I ache, literally, all over. I feel alone and like a freak and totally numb to the truth I want to cling to right now more than ever.
But. Even as I write this, the words to one of my favorite hymns is coming to mind. Just because I'm singing it in my head doesn't mean that I am going to put on a happy face and fake it until I make it because with God all things are possible. Not even close. But it does mean that even in this valley and long and heavy season of my life, I totally believe that God is sovereign. That he loves me. That he died for me. And that whatever this season is, it is preparing me for an eternal weight of glory that is beyond any affliction and suffering I am presently walking through. Even if that suffering includes fear that I am faking this all and then having to stop typing because my fingers and wrists and forearms hurt so bad I can't continue... Because I'm not Ashley Graeber. I am Ashley Titus, daughter of God, totally made new and redeemed.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Friday, April 25, 2014
More Waiting.
Usually, I like to wait for a day or two after getting an idea for a post before I actually sit down and type it up and write about it. Today though, I am just too tired to think through it that much. The frustration that was surging through my veins this morning has quelled to apathy and my body feels as if I ran a marathon.
As most of you know, this morning I had my first appointment with the neurology department at UW Medicine. I was walking into the appointment with a "POTS, likely" diagnosis from the on-call neurologist in the previous weeks, and a completed Tilt Table test and hoping that a formal diagnosis would be made.
Unfortunately, I am more confused now than I was at 9am this morning.
The good and bad is that my testing last Friday showed near-normal results. I had a drop in blood pressure after several minutes of the standing part of the test, but nothing massive and nothing to suggest my autonomic system is out of whack. They did see that it is working much harder than it should be for a healthy 27 year old though. But, other than that, there wasn't anything conclusive.
So, the "POTS, likely" route was actually a dead end. The neurologist said that he isn't totally ruling it out, but at the moment, he doesn't see evidence that it is something like that - especially with the variety of symptoms I am experiencing.
What does this mean? I'm not really sure to be honest. It means that I underwent another type of testing (an EMG test, which good grief was about the lest fun test I've ever done...) before I left their office and an hour later was told that another issue (myasthenia gravis) was now officially off of the table. Testing results in hand, and a very shaky body wheeled to the car, I am now home waiting for an appointment next week with my primary care physician to discuss next steps.
At first I felt terrible - I weaned Owen without needing to. But, honestly, he is doing totally fine, and 16 months of nursing is more than okay. It's less of a hassle now that I am able to care for him even less than before, and he doesn't even show a hint of wanting to nurse anymore which is awesome.
Throughout all of this, I have struggled intensely with the fear that I am over reacting to whatever this is. That I am faking it. That I am being a drama queen. I was so desperately hoping and praying that I would have a clear diagnosis today that would silence these fears and lies, and that prayer was not answered. Interestingly enough though, I do believe it is God's grace that I do not have a diagnosis right now. As frustrating and long as this process has been, and all signs point to will be in the future, having a definitive diagnosis would have let me rest in that, rather than in God's love and mercy and sovereignty. Yes, I want an answer to all of this pain and exhaustion and debilitating illness. But I want to fully trust the Lord, and be drawn close to him much more than that.
So... now I wait. I make the hard decision to do less and trust that the people who the Lord has provided to care for Owen and our house are in my life for a reason, and that I am where I am supposed to be, even when it isn't where I want to be. I will update more, hopefully in the coming days, as I am less exhausted and more able to think and write through all of this.
Continued prayers and texts and wishes would be amazing. So would meals, if you so feel inclined. A gal from church is setting up a meal registry and I will post that when it's finalized. We are now in the process of looking for a car (we don't have one right now), and that will add more to the already climbing expenses list. We have been absolutely taken aback by the sheer amount of support both personally and financially we have received already, and if you do wish to help us in that way, our GoFundMe site is linked to this blog.
Love you all!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
As most of you know, this morning I had my first appointment with the neurology department at UW Medicine. I was walking into the appointment with a "POTS, likely" diagnosis from the on-call neurologist in the previous weeks, and a completed Tilt Table test and hoping that a formal diagnosis would be made.
Unfortunately, I am more confused now than I was at 9am this morning.
The good and bad is that my testing last Friday showed near-normal results. I had a drop in blood pressure after several minutes of the standing part of the test, but nothing massive and nothing to suggest my autonomic system is out of whack. They did see that it is working much harder than it should be for a healthy 27 year old though. But, other than that, there wasn't anything conclusive.
So, the "POTS, likely" route was actually a dead end. The neurologist said that he isn't totally ruling it out, but at the moment, he doesn't see evidence that it is something like that - especially with the variety of symptoms I am experiencing.
What does this mean? I'm not really sure to be honest. It means that I underwent another type of testing (an EMG test, which good grief was about the lest fun test I've ever done...) before I left their office and an hour later was told that another issue (myasthenia gravis) was now officially off of the table. Testing results in hand, and a very shaky body wheeled to the car, I am now home waiting for an appointment next week with my primary care physician to discuss next steps.
At first I felt terrible - I weaned Owen without needing to. But, honestly, he is doing totally fine, and 16 months of nursing is more than okay. It's less of a hassle now that I am able to care for him even less than before, and he doesn't even show a hint of wanting to nurse anymore which is awesome.
Throughout all of this, I have struggled intensely with the fear that I am over reacting to whatever this is. That I am faking it. That I am being a drama queen. I was so desperately hoping and praying that I would have a clear diagnosis today that would silence these fears and lies, and that prayer was not answered. Interestingly enough though, I do believe it is God's grace that I do not have a diagnosis right now. As frustrating and long as this process has been, and all signs point to will be in the future, having a definitive diagnosis would have let me rest in that, rather than in God's love and mercy and sovereignty. Yes, I want an answer to all of this pain and exhaustion and debilitating illness. But I want to fully trust the Lord, and be drawn close to him much more than that.
So... now I wait. I make the hard decision to do less and trust that the people who the Lord has provided to care for Owen and our house are in my life for a reason, and that I am where I am supposed to be, even when it isn't where I want to be. I will update more, hopefully in the coming days, as I am less exhausted and more able to think and write through all of this.
Continued prayers and texts and wishes would be amazing. So would meals, if you so feel inclined. A gal from church is setting up a meal registry and I will post that when it's finalized. We are now in the process of looking for a car (we don't have one right now), and that will add more to the already climbing expenses list. We have been absolutely taken aback by the sheer amount of support both personally and financially we have received already, and if you do wish to help us in that way, our GoFundMe site is linked to this blog.
Love you all!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Friday, April 11, 2014
What's Been Going On...
For starters, please forgive the incompleteness of this blog, but I wanted to make sure that I at least put down into a post some semblance of an update. It's been awhile since I've posted, and am not quite sure if I am ready to get back into a 'rhythm' of posting quite yet, but I do intend to update a bit more than I have been.
Four weeks ago, today actually, I was grabbing Andrew's lunch from the counter and suddenly was overcome with dizziness. I've had bouts of vertigo before, and assumed it was that and called my mom to have her come over and watch Owen since I knew I wouldn't be able to. By the time she got here though, a million other reasons were swirling in my head as to why I could be dizzy, one of which was a hopeful excitement - maybe baby Titus #2 was on the way! I called for a doctor's appointment and was seen later that morning.
I had a pregnancy test done at the doctors and lo and behold... it was negative. It was a long shot, but I was a bit sad - I really wanted this to be something good! Looking back, it was simply God's grace that it was not what I had been hoping for, or at least that it wasn't baby Titus #2 along with the real cause of the dizziness.
In brief overview of the following four weeks, my dizziness continued to become more and more debilitating. My mom and mother-in-law, as well as a couple of friends from church took shifts of watching Owen from the time Andrew left for work until he came home. I was slowly becoming even more exhausted, and even doing simple things like the laundry would wipe me out for the rest of the day. "Just pushing myself a little further" was not an option.
Throughout all of this I have felt certain that I was faking this and being a drama queen. Growing up, I was a complete hypochondriac and faked so many illnesses. No one would believe me, and they had good reason - I lied a lot. That being said, although I knew I was not the same girl as I was in elementary school, the fear of not being taken seriously or over dramatizing the situation plagued me.
What also plagued me was the feeling of being a terrible mama to my sweet baby. I sat on the couch 90% of the day and didn't play with Owen at all. Reading a board book to him winded me, and doing an airplane ride on my legs was nearly impossible. I've always struggled with believing I was a "good enough" mama and as the days progressed the condemnation and guilt piled higher and higher.
Fast forward to Tuesday. After weeks of doctors appointments, Ear Nose and Throat specialist appointments, hearing tests, CT scans and an insane amount of blood work, we don't have any idea what's going on. In God's amazing providence, I met with a gal who I met this year through a Bible study and she asked me about my symptoms. After I listed off a seemingly random assortment of what I had been experiencing she looked at me and said: "Oh girl, I think you have what I have: POTS."
I looked up the symptoms and realized she may actually be right.
Wednesday afternoon, after the two worst days of dizziness and racing heart and exhaustion yet, I called my doctor and she asked me to go to the ER. I hesitated. We just paid off my medical bills from last years trial of Post-Pardum Depression and there is no way we have it in the budget to pay more bills. Andrew gently assured me though, that God had been faithful to provide and would remain faithful. Eventually I agreed to go, and seven hours later the on-call neurologist was sitting at the end of my hospital bed.
"Well, I can't tell you with 100% assurance because we have one more test to confirm it, but my first, second, and third on the list of probabilities is that you have what's called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. POTS for short."
So there it was.
I hadn't been faking. I wasn't being a drama queen. There was a reason.
I was ill.
Honestly I am not sure how much more I can type out right now, both because I am already completely exhausted from reading Owen two books this morning and singing him a song and typing this, but also emotionally drained and on edge.
There is not a cure for POTS. There are types of POTS that improve and go away over the course of several years. As it stands, the type I have seems to be the kind that doesn't. What does that mean? Aside from the hand of God moving either miraculously or through medical breakthroughs, I will be walking through the rest of my life with POTS. Until I see Jesus face to face in all of his glory, I will never be the same as I was a month and a half ago.
There are medications that will help me continue to function as close to normal as possible though. One problem - I cannot nurse Owen while on them.
So, with heavy pain and an ache I can't even begin to express, yesterday started cold-turkey weaning my sweet, sweet son. Praise Jesus that we had already started weaning gradually over the past couple of months, so instead of 5-8 times a day of nursing he was already down to 2-3 times. But these past 4 weeks have taken a toll on him. God's grace is that he loves playing with tons of people, but nursing was the one semblance of normal for him and I. It was our time to snuggle and to be close when everything else was topsy turvy.
Suffice it to say, I've been a wreck.
Through all of this though, I have no question in my mind that God was and is not shocked at the fact that I most likely have a chronic illness in which my Autonomic Nervous System misfires and functions abnormally.
My sobs of heartache for the confused child at my breast do not fall on deaf ears, but on ears that wept for Jerusalem.
My very slow process of beginning to mourn the idea of what I "should be" as a mama and wife, the idea of having another baby soon, and even going through my day without having someone else care for my child, make my meals, and clean my house is happening as my faithful Savior holds me close and wipes my tears and reminds me I am only defined by the Cross.
I would love prayers. Not only for myself but for my incredible husband who has been through hell and back with me and still loves me as tenderly as he did the day we were married. Also for Owen, that he would know without a shadow of a doubt my love for him, and that my ability to be able to run after him does not indicate my level of desire to be his mama. Also that the doctors would be able to move forward with treatment after my final test is complete.
I know that God is using this to draw me closer to him and I am so grateful for that assurance. I'm not okay with everything though, and I'm not sure I have to be quite yet. I'm not mad at God for allowing this to happen, but am grieved that it is happening. I am hopeful that things will get better, but I ache more for heaven than I ever have before.
I will try to update after I do the final test, but until then,
Sola Dei Gloria
Four weeks ago, today actually, I was grabbing Andrew's lunch from the counter and suddenly was overcome with dizziness. I've had bouts of vertigo before, and assumed it was that and called my mom to have her come over and watch Owen since I knew I wouldn't be able to. By the time she got here though, a million other reasons were swirling in my head as to why I could be dizzy, one of which was a hopeful excitement - maybe baby Titus #2 was on the way! I called for a doctor's appointment and was seen later that morning.
I had a pregnancy test done at the doctors and lo and behold... it was negative. It was a long shot, but I was a bit sad - I really wanted this to be something good! Looking back, it was simply God's grace that it was not what I had been hoping for, or at least that it wasn't baby Titus #2 along with the real cause of the dizziness.
In brief overview of the following four weeks, my dizziness continued to become more and more debilitating. My mom and mother-in-law, as well as a couple of friends from church took shifts of watching Owen from the time Andrew left for work until he came home. I was slowly becoming even more exhausted, and even doing simple things like the laundry would wipe me out for the rest of the day. "Just pushing myself a little further" was not an option.
Throughout all of this I have felt certain that I was faking this and being a drama queen. Growing up, I was a complete hypochondriac and faked so many illnesses. No one would believe me, and they had good reason - I lied a lot. That being said, although I knew I was not the same girl as I was in elementary school, the fear of not being taken seriously or over dramatizing the situation plagued me.
What also plagued me was the feeling of being a terrible mama to my sweet baby. I sat on the couch 90% of the day and didn't play with Owen at all. Reading a board book to him winded me, and doing an airplane ride on my legs was nearly impossible. I've always struggled with believing I was a "good enough" mama and as the days progressed the condemnation and guilt piled higher and higher.
Fast forward to Tuesday. After weeks of doctors appointments, Ear Nose and Throat specialist appointments, hearing tests, CT scans and an insane amount of blood work, we don't have any idea what's going on. In God's amazing providence, I met with a gal who I met this year through a Bible study and she asked me about my symptoms. After I listed off a seemingly random assortment of what I had been experiencing she looked at me and said: "Oh girl, I think you have what I have: POTS."
I looked up the symptoms and realized she may actually be right.
Wednesday afternoon, after the two worst days of dizziness and racing heart and exhaustion yet, I called my doctor and she asked me to go to the ER. I hesitated. We just paid off my medical bills from last years trial of Post-Pardum Depression and there is no way we have it in the budget to pay more bills. Andrew gently assured me though, that God had been faithful to provide and would remain faithful. Eventually I agreed to go, and seven hours later the on-call neurologist was sitting at the end of my hospital bed.
"Well, I can't tell you with 100% assurance because we have one more test to confirm it, but my first, second, and third on the list of probabilities is that you have what's called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. POTS for short."
So there it was.
I hadn't been faking. I wasn't being a drama queen. There was a reason.
I was ill.
Honestly I am not sure how much more I can type out right now, both because I am already completely exhausted from reading Owen two books this morning and singing him a song and typing this, but also emotionally drained and on edge.
There is not a cure for POTS. There are types of POTS that improve and go away over the course of several years. As it stands, the type I have seems to be the kind that doesn't. What does that mean? Aside from the hand of God moving either miraculously or through medical breakthroughs, I will be walking through the rest of my life with POTS. Until I see Jesus face to face in all of his glory, I will never be the same as I was a month and a half ago.
There are medications that will help me continue to function as close to normal as possible though. One problem - I cannot nurse Owen while on them.
So, with heavy pain and an ache I can't even begin to express, yesterday started cold-turkey weaning my sweet, sweet son. Praise Jesus that we had already started weaning gradually over the past couple of months, so instead of 5-8 times a day of nursing he was already down to 2-3 times. But these past 4 weeks have taken a toll on him. God's grace is that he loves playing with tons of people, but nursing was the one semblance of normal for him and I. It was our time to snuggle and to be close when everything else was topsy turvy.
Suffice it to say, I've been a wreck.
Through all of this though, I have no question in my mind that God was and is not shocked at the fact that I most likely have a chronic illness in which my Autonomic Nervous System misfires and functions abnormally.
My sobs of heartache for the confused child at my breast do not fall on deaf ears, but on ears that wept for Jerusalem.
My very slow process of beginning to mourn the idea of what I "should be" as a mama and wife, the idea of having another baby soon, and even going through my day without having someone else care for my child, make my meals, and clean my house is happening as my faithful Savior holds me close and wipes my tears and reminds me I am only defined by the Cross.
I would love prayers. Not only for myself but for my incredible husband who has been through hell and back with me and still loves me as tenderly as he did the day we were married. Also for Owen, that he would know without a shadow of a doubt my love for him, and that my ability to be able to run after him does not indicate my level of desire to be his mama. Also that the doctors would be able to move forward with treatment after my final test is complete.
I know that God is using this to draw me closer to him and I am so grateful for that assurance. I'm not okay with everything though, and I'm not sure I have to be quite yet. I'm not mad at God for allowing this to happen, but am grieved that it is happening. I am hopeful that things will get better, but I ache more for heaven than I ever have before.
I will try to update after I do the final test, but until then,
Sola Dei Gloria
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Breaking Point
I hate to be writing this. My mind is yelling that I'm being dumb and a quitter and yet again I have failed and should give up. But I know that is not true.
What is true is that I am a daughter of God the Most High.
I have been saved and redeemed fully and completely by the precious blood of my Savior and ransomed by his death on a cross.
I have been blessed with not only salvation and a relationship with God, fully restored, but also a husband who is truly my best friend, and a son who daily reminds me of child like faith and wonder and my desperate need for grace and forgiveness.
I don't need to maintain a blog to be OK.
I don't need to continue a once a month book review because I said I wanted to in January.
I don't need to bear the weight of disappointment and shame that I have as I write this, thinking that it isn't even March and I have failed.
I don't need to because am free.
Paul says in Galatians 5:1 -
"For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."
I am free to stop blogging tonight. And then start again tomorrow, or next week, or next year. Or never again.
So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to enjoy the freedom Christ has purchased for me and marvel at my son walking around the house (yes he is officially walking!). I am going to read random books for the library book club and try to make connections with the members. I am going to worship God through my everyday battles with OCD and write whenever the Spirit leads and not when I feel guilty or as though I have to.
I am scared to death of this freedom but also so, so excited :)
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
If I'm Honest, I Don't Agree With Jesus.
That's a bold statement if I've ever written one. That I don't agree with Jesus? What am I thinking? Isn't he my Savior and the Lord of my life? Well, yes, of course. But recently I have been grappling with the concept of whether or not I actually agree with, and want to follow, all that Jesus said and did through scripture.
These thoughts somewhat began with Andrew and I watching a clip from a 2010 "The Colbert Report" regarding the poor and Christmas. Now, while I do not even pretend to agree with all that is said in this clip, towards the end of it he says something that cut me to my heart. I laughed, but days later I am still sitting in the pain of how true his statement was:
"If we are going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we've got to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge the fact that he commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition, and then it meant that we just don't want to do it."
I want to scoff at it and roll my eyes at how political the clip makes Jesus. I don't care for discussions regarding what political candidate Jesus would have voted for, and I initially wanted to dismiss this for what it was - political humor. But I fully believe that whether Colbert intended to or not, God used his words to reveal a hidden section of my heart and my unbelief in Jesus that I never wanted to look at.
I don't want to look at it, because when I look at it I have to look Jesus in the eyes and honestly say that I don't agree with what he is asking me to do. Bluntly stated: I don't want to. Caring for and loving on people who don't deserve it feels tortuous. I want to love those who love me and spout gossip and lies and bitter judgement on those people who hurt, mock, and abuse me. I want to keep my possessions, my security, my comfort and my family. I don't want to be asked to give up anything that I believe is "rightfully mine".
Am I the only one?
We don't talk about the parts of scripture that seem too difficult and too "out there", we just end up not doing them. But, just because we don't speak honestly about what we are struggling to walk out doesn't mean that God doesn't know intimately the unbelief and the hardness of our hearts. I read verses like Matthew 15:8 - "This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me", and want to quickly pass over it, to name a few names in my head of people who fit this description and shake my head in disapproval of their sins. I point the finger quickly to others who live hypocritically in my eyes, but am desperate for no one to find out how hypocritical I really am.
So what's the point? Where do I go from here? It's easy to write a blog about how terrible saying Jesus is wrong and ridiculously demanding, but hard to actually admit to him that I am in sin. That it's not Jesus or the Bible that need to change, but my hardened and selfish heart. And, although I wan to think that I can do that myself, there is no way I could white knuckle it enough to change on my own.
I so desperately need Jesus.
I need him to forgive my unbelief and strengthen my faith to fully believe what he says is good and true and holy. Even if that means I need to give up comfort, entitlement or safety. I need him to wash me clean from my self-righteous hypocrisy that threatens to swallow me whole. To mold my heart to deeply desire to love my enemies and to do good to those who hate me (Luke 6:27). I want my initial reaction to being hurt to be forgiveness and not bitterness, that I have eyes to see the poor and needy around me as Jesus sees them, and not as society does. I need to be transformed.
A friend of mine described repentance recently in a way that really resonated with me. That repentance isn't just changing or confessing sin. It's literally turning our back on sin and Satan and turning to face the Lord. However silly it may sound, I am so grateful that the Lord showed me through political satire the depth of sin that I have held in secret for so long. I don't have the strength to change, but I fully believe the Holy Spirit will do a change in me, and I am excited to see what that looks like.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
These thoughts somewhat began with Andrew and I watching a clip from a 2010 "The Colbert Report" regarding the poor and Christmas. Now, while I do not even pretend to agree with all that is said in this clip, towards the end of it he says something that cut me to my heart. I laughed, but days later I am still sitting in the pain of how true his statement was:
"If we are going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we've got to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge the fact that he commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition, and then it meant that we just don't want to do it."
I want to scoff at it and roll my eyes at how political the clip makes Jesus. I don't care for discussions regarding what political candidate Jesus would have voted for, and I initially wanted to dismiss this for what it was - political humor. But I fully believe that whether Colbert intended to or not, God used his words to reveal a hidden section of my heart and my unbelief in Jesus that I never wanted to look at.
I don't want to look at it, because when I look at it I have to look Jesus in the eyes and honestly say that I don't agree with what he is asking me to do. Bluntly stated: I don't want to. Caring for and loving on people who don't deserve it feels tortuous. I want to love those who love me and spout gossip and lies and bitter judgement on those people who hurt, mock, and abuse me. I want to keep my possessions, my security, my comfort and my family. I don't want to be asked to give up anything that I believe is "rightfully mine".
Am I the only one?
We don't talk about the parts of scripture that seem too difficult and too "out there", we just end up not doing them. But, just because we don't speak honestly about what we are struggling to walk out doesn't mean that God doesn't know intimately the unbelief and the hardness of our hearts. I read verses like Matthew 15:8 - "This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me", and want to quickly pass over it, to name a few names in my head of people who fit this description and shake my head in disapproval of their sins. I point the finger quickly to others who live hypocritically in my eyes, but am desperate for no one to find out how hypocritical I really am.
So what's the point? Where do I go from here? It's easy to write a blog about how terrible saying Jesus is wrong and ridiculously demanding, but hard to actually admit to him that I am in sin. That it's not Jesus or the Bible that need to change, but my hardened and selfish heart. And, although I wan to think that I can do that myself, there is no way I could white knuckle it enough to change on my own.
I so desperately need Jesus.
I need him to forgive my unbelief and strengthen my faith to fully believe what he says is good and true and holy. Even if that means I need to give up comfort, entitlement or safety. I need him to wash me clean from my self-righteous hypocrisy that threatens to swallow me whole. To mold my heart to deeply desire to love my enemies and to do good to those who hate me (Luke 6:27). I want my initial reaction to being hurt to be forgiveness and not bitterness, that I have eyes to see the poor and needy around me as Jesus sees them, and not as society does. I need to be transformed.
A friend of mine described repentance recently in a way that really resonated with me. That repentance isn't just changing or confessing sin. It's literally turning our back on sin and Satan and turning to face the Lord. However silly it may sound, I am so grateful that the Lord showed me through political satire the depth of sin that I have held in secret for so long. I don't have the strength to change, but I fully believe the Holy Spirit will do a change in me, and I am excited to see what that looks like.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Monday, February 3, 2014
January Book Review: One Thousand Gifts
For the month of January, I chose the book "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp for a few main reasons. The first of which is that I had received this book from a dear friend of mine months prior, and after reading the first chapter I put it down. I'll explain - I have loved Voskamp's style of writing for quite some time (her blog aholyexperience.com is incredible), but it is often so beautifully depressing that I feel as though I cannot separate myself from it. For those who have not read the book, I won't ruin any details, but the first chapter or two are difficult to read. Her pain pulled my heart into the book and my soul itself felt as though it ached right along with her. Just as with her blog, this soul-ache pushed me to desperately want to know what the Lord was teaching her through thankfulness. Instead of putting it down and sitting in the depression as I did months ago, this month I moved forward and am so glad I did!
In all honesty, I want to write a exquisite book review about "One Thousand Gifts" but I know I simply cannot. Actually, that was something that the Lord has shown me through this past month reading the book - I don't always have to know exactly what to say or write. Sometimes I can post that it was a great book and I highly recommend it, without feeling burdened to write more and guilty that I am publishing a dull or lifeless post.
What I can say is that God used Voskamp's story of her search for grace in the everyday trials to remind me to slow down. All too often I find myself rushing to get to the next thing, straining to complete my lists, and in the process missing out on so much. I by no means have changed a great deal in this area of my life, but God has blessed me with several incredible opportunities that seemed to jump out at me and say "This is it! A grace moment! Savor it and worship your Savior in it!". One of these times was last week when I was watching Owen play with his Lego blocks. Typically when he is happily entertaining himself I begin to do other things, but for some reason, I decided to just sit and watch him. I am so grateful that I did. Slowing down enough to really take in his movements and expressions while he stacked the Legos together one-by-one brought me so much joy. It was such a small moment, but one that will stay with me for years. A moment that God used to remind me that finding joy and grace in the everyday routine means sitting at His feet and actually stopping long enough to thank Him for the gifts I have.
I also really enjoyed how Voskamp described learning thankfulness versus just being thankful. I had often struggled with not understanding why I wasn't thankful and why I just couldn't muster up enough thanks to make a difference, but her explanation of Philippians 4:11,12 struck me. Paul didn't merely give thanks in all circumstances, he learned how to be thankful in every circumstance. My prayer from that point forward was that the Lord would teach me how to be thankful, and I believe He has indeed began this work in my heart.
My biggest take away from this book was the gifts journal. I am a big proponent of journaling and have my journal with me nearly wherever I am. From reading this book, I have begun my own list of blessings, and although I am not close to 1,000 I am finding a lot of joy and excitement in slowing down and looking for more reasons to thank and praise God each day.
How about you? Have you read this book? If so, what did you think about it? If not, are you planning to?
Excited to continue this journey with you all! Remember to follow me on Twitter (@livingliketitus) and to use the hashtag "2014reads" to join in the conversation about the monthly books.
February's book - "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
In all honesty, I want to write a exquisite book review about "One Thousand Gifts" but I know I simply cannot. Actually, that was something that the Lord has shown me through this past month reading the book - I don't always have to know exactly what to say or write. Sometimes I can post that it was a great book and I highly recommend it, without feeling burdened to write more and guilty that I am publishing a dull or lifeless post.
What I can say is that God used Voskamp's story of her search for grace in the everyday trials to remind me to slow down. All too often I find myself rushing to get to the next thing, straining to complete my lists, and in the process missing out on so much. I by no means have changed a great deal in this area of my life, but God has blessed me with several incredible opportunities that seemed to jump out at me and say "This is it! A grace moment! Savor it and worship your Savior in it!". One of these times was last week when I was watching Owen play with his Lego blocks. Typically when he is happily entertaining himself I begin to do other things, but for some reason, I decided to just sit and watch him. I am so grateful that I did. Slowing down enough to really take in his movements and expressions while he stacked the Legos together one-by-one brought me so much joy. It was such a small moment, but one that will stay with me for years. A moment that God used to remind me that finding joy and grace in the everyday routine means sitting at His feet and actually stopping long enough to thank Him for the gifts I have.I also really enjoyed how Voskamp described learning thankfulness versus just being thankful. I had often struggled with not understanding why I wasn't thankful and why I just couldn't muster up enough thanks to make a difference, but her explanation of Philippians 4:11,12 struck me. Paul didn't merely give thanks in all circumstances, he learned how to be thankful in every circumstance. My prayer from that point forward was that the Lord would teach me how to be thankful, and I believe He has indeed began this work in my heart.
My biggest take away from this book was the gifts journal. I am a big proponent of journaling and have my journal with me nearly wherever I am. From reading this book, I have begun my own list of blessings, and although I am not close to 1,000 I am finding a lot of joy and excitement in slowing down and looking for more reasons to thank and praise God each day.
How about you? Have you read this book? If so, what did you think about it? If not, are you planning to?
Excited to continue this journey with you all! Remember to follow me on Twitter (@livingliketitus) and to use the hashtag "2014reads" to join in the conversation about the monthly books.
February's book - "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Friday, January 31, 2014
U-District Mission: January Update
So much has happened since November when I first wrote about our family taking up the call to be all-in and on mission to the University District. What was initially filled with passion and exuberance was met with daily struggles to see the hope of what God can do here, and a battle minute by minute to not hide away from the pain and suffering around us but willingly walk straight into the thick of it.
That being said, God has worked so much these last few weeks! Things that we never, EVER thought would happen actually did, and connections we only thought about making are actually real rather than theory.
Here's what has been happening:
Goodbye Car!
After much praying and increasing mechanic bills, Andrew and I decided to sell our car. This means that we bus and walk everywhere. While it sounds crazy, living in the UD makes it quite simple to be car-less. We live within a couple of blocks of dozens of bus lines, grocery stores, pharmacies and incredible restaurants. When we need a car, there have been families who have generously given us theirs to use for the day, and Zipcar is always another option.
I have learned a great deal about my entitlement and pride through going car-less. I like my schedule to stay what I have planned, and bussing does not allow for this. Instead of knowing exactly how my day will look, I have to be flexible - busses are early and missed and that's how it goes. I also am learning how scared I am of how people will view me through how Owen behaves on the bus rides. My pride wants to think that I have a perfect child who sleeps on the bus rides and plays quietly on my nap when he is awake. Reality is that my precious toddler is a toddler. He wants to move around and see people and isn't always wanting to remain quiet. This will take a while for me, but I know that God is molding my heart to only desire His will and the best for Owen, even when that means my pride is shattered and I receive disapproving looks from fellow passengers.
Community Group
We switched community groups around Thanksgiving, and God has grown that community in these couple of months more than I ever thought possible. We adored the old group we were a part of, and it was painful to leave such a godly group of people. Our new group though is an easy walk or bus ride from our house, and is led by a couple who have also made the UD their home and mission field. Being able to open up once again and be vulnerable with the women of the group has been a challenge, but has been met with love and support which I am so grateful for. We also are so excited to be able to serve together at the UD YMCA every other month. This opportunity gives us the chance to interact personally with youth in the area who are homeless and struggling, and not only give them food, but a friendly interaction and, I pray, hope. I am so looking forward to March when we serve again, and it has been such an awesome thing to see the youth we served around the UD and make connections while just doing life.
U-District Library
The UD branch of the Seattle Public Library system is just a couple of steps away from our house, and we have started to take advantage of this more and more over the last month. I joined their monthly book club and our first meeting was this Monday - I was not only one of the youngest people there, but very obviously the one who has the least knowledge of discussing classic works of fiction! It showed me that I have a lot to learn, and the diversity of the participants is exactly what I was hoping for - I really need out of my little bubble, and this makes it happen. Andrew and I have also started taking Owen to the preschool pajama story time on Tuesdays. He adores the children's librarian and is even beginning to get more comfortable playing along with others - not just sitting within arms reach of us.
Neighbors
One of the frequently overlooked gems in the U-District is the park on 50th. When we first moved into the UD, I swore that I would never take Owen to that park, I thought it was "sketchy" and gross. While it is sometimes less-than-ideal, it is also a great way that we have interacted with some of the other families living in the area. Owen has taken to wanting to swing and slide down the slide, and often points and grunts at the park when we walk past it.
Another way that we have been interacting and trying to build better connections and relationships with our neighbors is through actually stopping to talk with some of the homeless who live around us. One gentleman in particular has been placed on Andrew's and my heart and we are excited to learn more about him and his story, and hopefully be able to love and serve him well.
That being said, God has worked so much these last few weeks! Things that we never, EVER thought would happen actually did, and connections we only thought about making are actually real rather than theory.
Here's what has been happening:
 |
| Happily trekking to Trader Joe's with "Giraffey" and Daddy. |
Goodbye Car!
After much praying and increasing mechanic bills, Andrew and I decided to sell our car. This means that we bus and walk everywhere. While it sounds crazy, living in the UD makes it quite simple to be car-less. We live within a couple of blocks of dozens of bus lines, grocery stores, pharmacies and incredible restaurants. When we need a car, there have been families who have generously given us theirs to use for the day, and Zipcar is always another option.
I have learned a great deal about my entitlement and pride through going car-less. I like my schedule to stay what I have planned, and bussing does not allow for this. Instead of knowing exactly how my day will look, I have to be flexible - busses are early and missed and that's how it goes. I also am learning how scared I am of how people will view me through how Owen behaves on the bus rides. My pride wants to think that I have a perfect child who sleeps on the bus rides and plays quietly on my nap when he is awake. Reality is that my precious toddler is a toddler. He wants to move around and see people and isn't always wanting to remain quiet. This will take a while for me, but I know that God is molding my heart to only desire His will and the best for Owen, even when that means my pride is shattered and I receive disapproving looks from fellow passengers.
 |
| Awesome Indian food at Shalimar for a Date Night on the Ave. |
We switched community groups around Thanksgiving, and God has grown that community in these couple of months more than I ever thought possible. We adored the old group we were a part of, and it was painful to leave such a godly group of people. Our new group though is an easy walk or bus ride from our house, and is led by a couple who have also made the UD their home and mission field. Being able to open up once again and be vulnerable with the women of the group has been a challenge, but has been met with love and support which I am so grateful for. We also are so excited to be able to serve together at the UD YMCA every other month. This opportunity gives us the chance to interact personally with youth in the area who are homeless and struggling, and not only give them food, but a friendly interaction and, I pray, hope. I am so looking forward to March when we serve again, and it has been such an awesome thing to see the youth we served around the UD and make connections while just doing life.
U-District Library
The UD branch of the Seattle Public Library system is just a couple of steps away from our house, and we have started to take advantage of this more and more over the last month. I joined their monthly book club and our first meeting was this Monday - I was not only one of the youngest people there, but very obviously the one who has the least knowledge of discussing classic works of fiction! It showed me that I have a lot to learn, and the diversity of the participants is exactly what I was hoping for - I really need out of my little bubble, and this makes it happen. Andrew and I have also started taking Owen to the preschool pajama story time on Tuesdays. He adores the children's librarian and is even beginning to get more comfortable playing along with others - not just sitting within arms reach of us.
 |
| Owen colored a mitten for the display! (his is bottom right) |
Neighbors
One of the frequently overlooked gems in the U-District is the park on 50th. When we first moved into the UD, I swore that I would never take Owen to that park, I thought it was "sketchy" and gross. While it is sometimes less-than-ideal, it is also a great way that we have interacted with some of the other families living in the area. Owen has taken to wanting to swing and slide down the slide, and often points and grunts at the park when we walk past it.
Another way that we have been interacting and trying to build better connections and relationships with our neighbors is through actually stopping to talk with some of the homeless who live around us. One gentleman in particular has been placed on Andrew's and my heart and we are excited to learn more about him and his story, and hopefully be able to love and serve him well.
_________________________
Needless to say, God has been moving in our hearts and lives and daily routines here in the Titus Homestead. I wish that I could talk more about the individual interactions and lessons I am learning, but for the sake of time, I will try to condense everything into a once-monthly update. I will also be posting pictures and quick prayer requests and praises throughout the month, so look for them as well!
Here are some ways you can be praying for us this month:
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| On one of our bus riding adventures. |
For connections at the pajama story time - it's not common to be in a room with just UD families outside of church, and we would love to be able to get to know the parents who call the UD home, or at least desire to bring their kiddos to the UD library for this story time.
For opportunities in the RNA - this month we are joining the Roosevelt Neighborhood Alliance which is a group of neighbors in our area who care passionately for the neighborhood and work alongside the city doing various advocacy work and volunteer opportunities. Andrew would love to get more involved with things like zoning and building development planning, so this would be the place to start for sure.
For continued favor with bussing - Owen and I use the bus quite frequently now, and it is tricky but totally doable and sometimes quite fun. Prayers that we would continue to enjoy our bus rides and that somehow I can make connections with those on the buses we take on a regular basis would be awesome. It's so hard to talk through iPods and headphones, but having toddler who wants to play peek-a-boo does help :)
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Thursday, January 23, 2014
OCD: Just a "Light and Momentary Affliction"?
For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison...
2 Corinthians 4:17 (ESV)
It's been nearly a year since I was officially diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (read my blog on it here) and while so much has changed, many things (painfully) have remained the same. I have a better handle on my medication now which allows me to live free from the constant grip of suicidal depression, but I still struggle each day with compulsions and obsessions and fear. I have been able to do things other than clean during Owen's nap times, although I still clean so much that often I hurt my back and end up being, lovingly, forced to bed early by a caring and deeply saddened husband. There have been nights when I have been able to leave dishes unwashed and laundry scattered across the kitchen, though these nights are few and generally littered with anxiety that causes me to repeat "what do I do? what do I do? what do I do?" to Andrew while I tremble and shake to sleep.
And yet...
It is clear in the passage from 2 Corinthians: my battle with OCD is a light momentary affliction.
Really?
Light momentary affliction...
It can't be. There is no way that OCD or cancer or death or shattered marriages or pain is merely a light momentary affliction. How can I worship a God who thinks the heart wrenching pain of this life is merely light momentary affliction? But what if it is my perception of suffering that is incorrect and not God's? What if this passage is not using the words light and momentary to describe our afflictions in a "oh you're being a baby, it's not that bad" tone, but rather to point to the second half of the verse? You know, the "preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison" part?
And my mind shifts and my heart softens and I let myself collapse into the arms of my Savior.
In no way is God telling me that I need to feel like my afflictions, my anxiety and OCD and fear, are of no importance to him. That I am just being a baby for thinking they are, indeed, painful afflictions. No, I believe the same God who bore the weight of the sin and pain and corruption of the world while nailed to a tree knows fully that the heart can be weighed down in this life.
Ann Voskamp beautifully describes it in her book One Thousand Gifts -
"...the Word has nail-scarred hands that cup our face close, wipe away the tears running down, has eyes to look deep into our brimming ache, and whisper, 'I know. I know.' The passion on the page is a Person, and the lens I wear of the Word is not abstract idea but the eyes of the God-Man who came and knows the pain."
Perhaps 2 Corinthians 4:17 actually doesn't negate the pain of afflictions at all. Instead, God shows us tenderly that no matter the weight of the pain we are walking through now, the weight of his glory is beyond all comparison. An image of an old fashioned scale comes to my mind, in which even a incredibly heavy object is made light when an even heavier object is placed on the other scale. The first object has not lost weight with the addition of the second, it is still incredibly heavy. Our afflictions are still painful and weighty. It is just that the eternal weight of glory is oh, so much more. So much more in fact, that the afflictions are deemed light in comparison.
God isn't calling me to buck up, fake it until I make it, and call my OCD "not a big deal". God is lovingly lifting my gaze to himself and reminding me that as difficult as my afflictions are, they are preparing me for more glory than my fallen heart can imagine. An eternal weight of glory that is beyond all comparison in fact.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Pink Underlines in Old Testament Books
I have wanted to post on this for so long, and yet so many less important things have gotten in the way. I suppose that partially I don't even begin to assume I know my Old Testament well enough to actually write about it, and to be honest, I feel like I should know it far better than I do after 20-some-years of walking with Jesus. This fact alone causes me to second guess whatever I have thought about writing, and continuously makes me wonder if I am going to post something heretical or wrong, or just plain confusing.
But then I realized that the only thing I really want to share is how God is giving me such a thirst for the Old Testament. A thirst that I have only longed for and prayed for for what feels like forever. I have had so many attempts at reading the entire Bible. Sometimes I am able to get rather far, while other times I stop in March with a list of three weeks worth of passages I'm already behind in. Even in those "successful" times of reading through the Bible, I have honestly skimmed over so many parts of the Old Testament. I mean, at some point doesn't everyone get sick of Numbers? Doesn't it make sense to scan Levitical codes, since they are so outdated anyway?
It does make sense. But we worship a God who doesn't always "make sense". Paul puts it in no uncertain terms in 1 Corinthians 3:19a "For the wisdom of this world is folly with God". While I struggle to wrap my mind around the fact that God's knowledge and power and wisdom is so much more incredible than I can ever have words to describe, I also find myself often too easily satisfied. I glance through my reading plan passage in, for example, 2 Kings, and find myself confused by the Kings of Israel versus Judah and simply move on. I check the box of reading my daily portion, pat myself on the back, and read something actually relevant, like a psalm or a letter of Paul's.
This is how my Bible reading has been nearly all of my life until recently. Granted, there are still days when it continues to be like that, but God has transformed my heart so radically during these past few months. I am actually enjoying the Old Testament. I drank up Leviticus. I poured over 1 Kings. Seriously. As in, "yes I know this is where my reading plan says I stop for today, but I just have to know what happens next...". Let me stop here. This is not at all any of my doing. Nope. On my own I am prideful and arrogant and if something doesn't immediately resonate with me or seem compelling I will scoff at it and pay no attention to it. On my own, I could care less about who killed which King of Israel or what Syria did to which King of Judah.
It would make no sense for me to be so excited about any of this. But, again, God's ways do not always make sense, do they. I've been reading this chronological reading plan, and God has worked so mightily through it. I don't go by the dates, but use it as a guide to walk through the Bible during my devotional time each day. That way my pride doesn't become stroked when I am "on track" or despair doesn't creep in when I am "behind". I just get to sit and enjoy learning more about the character of God through the kings of Judah and Israel, the Levitical priesthood codes, and his covenantal people of Israel.
I would so encourage anyone to actually pray for God to use the Old Testament to reveal more of himself and his character to you as you read it. I felt so silly for so long wondering why I didn't like the Old Testament, and yet never believed that God desires me to adore him and be filled with awe towards him - so many times he answers this prayer through his Word itself. I am excited to step out in boldness and share with you what the Lord is highlighting in my heart through the Old Testament in the coming weeks and months, and can't wait to hear how he uses his Word to captivate your heart as well!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
I would so encourage anyone to actually pray for God to use the Old Testament to reveal more of himself and his character to you as you read it. I felt so silly for so long wondering why I didn't like the Old Testament, and yet never believed that God desires me to adore him and be filled with awe towards him - so many times he answers this prayer through his Word itself. I am excited to step out in boldness and share with you what the Lord is highlighting in my heart through the Old Testament in the coming weeks and months, and can't wait to hear how he uses his Word to captivate your heart as well!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Sunday, January 5, 2014
12 Months 12 Books: The #2014reads Project
I have always adored reading. I used to devour books, barely able to stop myself to do other homework or chores. I poured over the Ramona books, got caught up in the magic of the Harry Potter series, and have found no greater comfort or hope than in the Word of God in the Bible.
This all being said... I have stopped reading pretty much anything other than my Bible since Owen was born, and I really don't want that trend to continue. I realized that I tend to enjoy things more when I have a plan and have friends around me joining in, so I am trying something new: The #2014reads Project.
Throughout this year, I will be reading and reviewing one book a month (I hope) and will be posting quotes from the book which particularly stand out to me throughout the month on Twitter (follow me: @livingliketitus).
Here's where you come in - I would love for you to join me! Read the book of the month along with me and post your favorite quotes either here in the comments section of the blog, or on Twitter using the #2014reads hashtag.
Here are the books for 2014:
January - One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp
February - Crazy Love by Francis Chan
March - Lit! by Tony Reinke
April - Rid of My Disgrace by Justin and Lindsey Holcomb
May - Radical by David Platt
June - Marriage Matters by Winston T. Smith
July - Shadow of the Almighty by Elisabeth Elliot
August - On Being a Theologian of the Cross by Gerhard Forde
September - Shepherding a Child's Heart by Tedd Tripp
October - The God Who is There by D.A. Carson
November - Running Scared: Fear, Worry, and the God of Rest by Edward Welch
December - Because He Loves Me by Elyse Fitzpatrick
I'm so excited to read along with you this year!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
This all being said... I have stopped reading pretty much anything other than my Bible since Owen was born, and I really don't want that trend to continue. I realized that I tend to enjoy things more when I have a plan and have friends around me joining in, so I am trying something new: The #2014reads Project.
Throughout this year, I will be reading and reviewing one book a month (I hope) and will be posting quotes from the book which particularly stand out to me throughout the month on Twitter (follow me: @livingliketitus).
Here's where you come in - I would love for you to join me! Read the book of the month along with me and post your favorite quotes either here in the comments section of the blog, or on Twitter using the #2014reads hashtag.
Here are the books for 2014:
January - One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp
February - Crazy Love by Francis ChanMarch - Lit! by Tony Reinke
April - Rid of My Disgrace by Justin and Lindsey Holcomb
May - Radical by David Platt
June - Marriage Matters by Winston T. Smith
July - Shadow of the Almighty by Elisabeth Elliot
August - On Being a Theologian of the Cross by Gerhard Forde
September - Shepherding a Child's Heart by Tedd Tripp
October - The God Who is There by D.A. Carson
November - Running Scared: Fear, Worry, and the God of Rest by Edward Welch
December - Because He Loves Me by Elyse Fitzpatrick
I'm so excited to read along with you this year!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Why I am Not Making a New Year's Resolution.
It is the first week in January and I do not have a New Year's resolution yet.
In fact, I won't have one.
Because I'm not making one. Why? Honestly, it would be more hurtful than helpful for several reasons.
As most of you know, I have struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for the majority of my life (read my blog on this here) and one of the ways it manifests for me is through list-making. I want to know what "needs" to be done, what I "have to" do, and exactly which steps to take to make sure that everything will go okay. If things don't go as I have written them out to go, then who knows what terrible, horrific thing may happen (or so my brain thinks...). While this is very much a part of my mental disorder of OCD, it is also a sinful rut I struggle to walk through each day. For me, resolutions give me a brief release from the anxiety but in the end add more anxiety, worry, and guilt to my already chaotic mind.
I've made resolutions in the past. Probably every year I can remember in fact. Like almost everyone who makes them, I start off great - so full of confidence and ambition and zeal - then crash and burn. The burn is terrible, and it's a slow ember which takes a long time to completely fade away. Making a resolution, especially when I write it down or tell others about it, and then failing to keep it seems to fuel the lies of failure, worthless, and stupid I battle against already. I don't know about you, but I don't really care to open myself up to more lies and condemnation than that which already floods my heart and mind. If I I know walking down a resolution-making process is most likely going to end in pain, it's not something that really beckons me to continue down that road.
The biggest reason that I am making a conscious effort to not make a New Year's resolution this year though, is because of Jesus. No, Jesus does not say we are not to make resolutions. There is not a place in scripture that says partaking in this cultural tradition fuels the wrath of God. Not even close. I do know however, that in my attempts to make and keep resolutions in the past I have neglected the incredibly massive fact that I cannot change myself. No matter how many post-it notes I put up with positive affirmations around my house, no matter how many friends I have holding me accountable with scheduled check-in phone calls, will power only lasts so long. I can't change myself. I just can't.
But praise the Lord that my Savior is the one who changes hearts, redeems lives, and molds weary, sinful minds into his image and likeness one day at a time.
So this year, I want to start the year face down. Not because I have crashed my resolutions already by week one, but because I simply cannot start anything apart from falling at the feet of my Lord and Savior. I have tried year after year to change bad habits, start good habits, and hide failures on my own strength, and frankly, it has slowly killed me. I don't want to count on my spastic bouts of will power, but on the One who spoke the stars into existence. I don't want to make a list of all of the bad things about my character and next to them write what I want to be by 2015, like some job description I will never be qualified for.
I want to be transformed by Jesus.
I want to know my Lord better. Not by my great quiet time practices, or my church attendance, or my monthly giving amount. I want to know Him better through getting to know Him, just as I would a dear friend.
I want to actually, functionally, radically believe the Gospel. Not just being able to check a box that says "Christian", but believing so deeply that Jesus died for my sins and rose for my salvation that it transforms absolutely every single inch of my heart and mind and life. And I don't want to keep that knowledge inside any longer.
All of this is great, but I can't do any of it. Only God can. And that takes so much pressure off of me to preform a certain way, to change a certain amount, and to live a certain lifestyle.
I just to get to be me. Ashley Titus. Running after my sweet Jesus by the strength of his mercy on legs which were once bound and shackled and now are redeemed and renewed.
Happy 2014
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
In fact, I won't have one.
Because I'm not making one. Why? Honestly, it would be more hurtful than helpful for several reasons.
As most of you know, I have struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for the majority of my life (read my blog on this here) and one of the ways it manifests for me is through list-making. I want to know what "needs" to be done, what I "have to" do, and exactly which steps to take to make sure that everything will go okay. If things don't go as I have written them out to go, then who knows what terrible, horrific thing may happen (or so my brain thinks...). While this is very much a part of my mental disorder of OCD, it is also a sinful rut I struggle to walk through each day. For me, resolutions give me a brief release from the anxiety but in the end add more anxiety, worry, and guilt to my already chaotic mind.
The biggest reason that I am making a conscious effort to not make a New Year's resolution this year though, is because of Jesus. No, Jesus does not say we are not to make resolutions. There is not a place in scripture that says partaking in this cultural tradition fuels the wrath of God. Not even close. I do know however, that in my attempts to make and keep resolutions in the past I have neglected the incredibly massive fact that I cannot change myself. No matter how many post-it notes I put up with positive affirmations around my house, no matter how many friends I have holding me accountable with scheduled check-in phone calls, will power only lasts so long. I can't change myself. I just can't.
But praise the Lord that my Savior is the one who changes hearts, redeems lives, and molds weary, sinful minds into his image and likeness one day at a time.
So this year, I want to start the year face down. Not because I have crashed my resolutions already by week one, but because I simply cannot start anything apart from falling at the feet of my Lord and Savior. I have tried year after year to change bad habits, start good habits, and hide failures on my own strength, and frankly, it has slowly killed me. I don't want to count on my spastic bouts of will power, but on the One who spoke the stars into existence. I don't want to make a list of all of the bad things about my character and next to them write what I want to be by 2015, like some job description I will never be qualified for.
I want to be transformed by Jesus.I want to know my Lord better. Not by my great quiet time practices, or my church attendance, or my monthly giving amount. I want to know Him better through getting to know Him, just as I would a dear friend.
I want to actually, functionally, radically believe the Gospel. Not just being able to check a box that says "Christian", but believing so deeply that Jesus died for my sins and rose for my salvation that it transforms absolutely every single inch of my heart and mind and life. And I don't want to keep that knowledge inside any longer.
All of this is great, but I can't do any of it. Only God can. And that takes so much pressure off of me to preform a certain way, to change a certain amount, and to live a certain lifestyle.
I just to get to be me. Ashley Titus. Running after my sweet Jesus by the strength of his mercy on legs which were once bound and shackled and now are redeemed and renewed.
Happy 2014
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
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