Rock-Paper-Scissors

I came across a picture of me taken in 2007.

I immediately thought, “ My hair looks a mess. What was I wearing? Those glasses are hideous, why do I still have them? I need to throw them away. How did someone get a picture of me? I hated pictures.. Why am I trying to be cool? That’s not how you make a peace sign. Am I playing Rock-Paper-Scissors? My fingers are too skinny…but they look like my mom’s…ok, my fingers are fine…“

and then I just stared at the picture. 

A lump started in my throat and I couldn’t help but feel the tears begin to gather in the corner of my eyes.

I looked at my old self the same way I imagine a mother looks at her daughter.

And If I had the chance, I would go back, wrap my arms around her (because I know she didn’t like hugs then) and refuse to let go until she was overwhelmed and broken down with nothing but grace.

I remember the day this picture was taken.

I remember thinking my faith wasn’t strong enough.
I still struggled with recovery, and to me, that meant that I had failed. 

You can't see it past my oversized sunglasses and sarcastic smile, but I was a mess. 

What would I tell the person in this picture?

I would tell this person in the picture that faith, like everything else, is a journey. Healing can be instant,  but most of the time it’s a long, long, long road.

I would tell this person in the picture to relax.

I would tell this person in the picture that a Bible verse isn't a quick fix band-aid. Some wounds need to be brought to the surface in order to heal.

I would tell this person in the picture that it’s ok to mess up.

I would tell this person in the picture that her flaws make her beautiful, not her tan skin, white teeth or blonde hair. True beauty isn't artificial, it's not something that changes...beauty has everything to do with the soul. 
And she won't believe me, but in a few years she won't even desire to be tan anymore. Pale looks so much better on her. 

I would tell this person in the picture to remember that people are people, imperfect beings loved by a perfect God…and to give them a break.  

I would tell this person in the picture to walk away from any guy who disregards her talent, comments on her cooking or tells her to wear her makeup or hair a different way.

I would tell this person to smile every opportunity she has because that is one piece of healing she can bring to a broken world.

Lastly, I would tell her to trust her story. 

To trust that God is holding her with His right hand, despite how the crashing waves around her feel. 

To trust that God is molding her into the masterpiece He wants, not what the world wants.

And to trust that among the disappointments, heartbreaks, unanswered prayers, and silence, He still has an amazing plan for her life. 

What would you tell your past? 

“Every time you get up and get back in the race, one more small piece of you starts to fall into place”

-Rascal Flatts- Stand

What Are You Trying To Hide?

I love make-up.

I probably wear too much of it.

In all honestly, I know I wear too much of it.

For whatever reason lately, my skin has decided to break out. I think it's because of all the running I have been doing lately in trying to get ready for the half marathon.

If my dad hadn't already made hotel reservations, I would probably quit and blame it all on my skin.
I can be quite vain sometimes.

I was reminded of something my friend said to me over a year ago.

I remember her looking at me and asking, "Amy, what are you trying to hide?"
She didn’t wear a lot of make-up and apparently thought I shouldn’t either.
I remember being extremely insulted and ignoring her for the rest of the day.
I can also be quite passive aggressive.

But then it hit me again …."Amy, what are you trying to hide?"

I've felt "fake" lately.
I've felt "fake" in my worship.
I've felt "fake" in my love towards Jesus.

Vulnerability, transparency and honesty are what I've tried to build my life around. 

Some would maybe even say I am a little too honest and too open about my struggles.

And maybe they are right…

I talk a lot about my past.
I talk a lot about temptation.
I talk a lot about my struggle with perfectionism.
I talk a lot about my desire to be married….and how I don't like being single…and how I am getting tired of waiting on God…and how settling seems very appealing right now…but I know I can't….but would it be that bad? (you get the point).

But what I haven't really been honest about lately is my love for Jesus.

I raise my hands when I am moved by the music and I carry my mini Bible around in my purse almost everywhere I go.
I have Scripture tattoos on my neck and my foot.
I have cross necklaces, bracelets and rings.
I have done almost every Beth Moore Bible study.
I listen to the Christian radio station, minivan free.
But…I’m having trouble loving Jesus as much as I did once.

I try. Oh my gosh, do I try.
I want to "taste and see that the Lord is good". I want "unspeakable joy". I want to shout and scream from the mountains that Jesus is the love of my life.
But, if I can take my faith foundation off for just one second, I can honestly say I’ve been having difficult loving Him as much as He deserves.

I've hit my knees in desperate prayer, begging Him to change my heart and help me experience Him in a way which changes me forever.

Over and over  I have cried out to Him, asking Him what more can I do to get to that place with Him, that place where I know, that I know, that I know, that I know, that He is all that matters.
That place where I run to follow Him and don't even stop to question the next step.

I remember asking Him what was blocking me from getting to Him. After all, He did say "If you knock, the door will be opened. If you seek, you shall find".

but I did knock and I did seek…
and I'm tired.

For the longest time, I believed that maybe I was never meant to experience Jesus that way. Maybe my analytical and critical mind wasn't meant to go that deep with Him. Maybe my cautious heart wasn't meant to be that vulnerable.

Maybe the love I have for Jesus will just be more of a distant kind of love.

The problem is I am not content with that kind of love.
In fact, I don't believe that any of us are made for distant love.

I told God in my early twenties that, “If I can't have all of You, I don't want any of You”

If I was going to do this whole "Christian" thing, I wanted it all.

But I wait and I keep believing.

I don't turn my back on God when I feel like He's not changing my heart.

I don't stop asking Him to help me "taste" and "see" His absolute goodness and flawless love.
I don't think I am any less a Christian for not having the kind of love for Him I want or desire to have.
I don't think I am any less of a Christian because I sometimes have a hard time saying "God is good".
I don't think I am any less of a Christian because I question.

This is where perseverance comes in. This is where I dig my heels in even deeper. This is where I knock on the door, and keep knocking, and maybe even start pounding…or goodness, maybe I have to kick the door down.

But He is there.

I know He is.

Maybe some of you feel exhausted from trying to "taste" and "see" Jesus. Maybe some of you are like me, and keep beating yourself up because while you know the truth and believe the truth, you can't seem to experience it at this moment.  

Maybe some of you are right where I am.

Maybe we should all take off our faith cover up and begin to ask for prayer from others.

Maybe we take off our hair extensions, fake eyelashes, cross necklaces and just be honest with where we are all at.

We allow others to see our flaws.

They say that the best way to clear up your blemishes is to not wear make-up…

Maybe once I wipe off my faith concealer and get honest with myself and others, blemishes and all…maybe that's true healing.