But I Love It

As I watched my niece open her gifts on Christmas morning, I was reminded of a picture I had seen awhile ago.

 

The picture shows Jesus, standing in front of a little girl, asking her for the teddy bear she is holding. Above Jesus, are the words, “ Just trust Me.”
The little girl, clinging to the teddy bear, responds back, “but I love it God.”
What the little girl is unable to see is the  larger teddy bear Jesus is holding behind His back.

Last Thursday morning, I watched as my 4 year old niece started to pass out the gifts that were underneath my brother and sister in law’s  Christmas tree. Every gift she found was for her younger sister.

I watched as her young face went from excitement to disappointment.
What she didn’t know, and couldn’t see, were the presents to the side of the tree. These were the presents that were all for her.
Her heart sank because she thought that Santa had forgotten her.
And in that moment, I thought of how I have the same exact reaction with Jesus.

All I’ve ever wanted, for as long as I can remember, has been a relationship.
In fact, every Christmas, I think to myself, “Maybe this is the year I get a boyfriend. Maybe this is the year that I have someone for New Years.”
And every year, I watch Christmas and New Years come and go, without any signs of a significant other.
On the surface, it seems as if God has forgotten me.

It is really easy to get incredibly disappointed when I think of how my prayer hasn’t been answered. It is really easy for me to get discouraged and think it will never happen.

It is really easy for me to want to give up on God.
Like the young girl in the picture, I start doubting Jesus. In fact, I cling to relationships and people that aren’t meant to be, because I would rather have someone than no one.

Watching my niece on Christmas morning, reminded me to keep the faith.  Just because God hasn’t answered my prayer, doesn’t mean  He won’t.  

Watching my niece on Christmas morning, reminded me that things aren’t always what they seem.
Just like, "Santa" didn’t forget my niece, God hasn’t forgotten about me.

I also know all too well that some prayers are never answered on this Earth. I am not promised a relationship despite it being a desire.
Despite this truth, I still hope.

I still believe that Jesus is good, and that He cares for me, despite what my circumstances look like.

Do you trust God? I mean, do you really trust Him?

If I am honest, there are many times I would rather not.

Like the little girl, are you holding onto something that God has asked you to lay down?
Do you believe He has something better in store?

Are you like me, and have a life-long prayer that hasn’t been answered?
Are you like me, and have moments when you want to give up on God? Or, have you already given up on Him?

It’s hard to continue believing for something that may not happen, but I do.

Against all hope, I hope.
Above all else, I continue to trust.

Will you trust Him?

You Failed. You Failed. You Failed. You Failed.

In the words of Chris Daughtry, “Be careful what you wish for, cause you just might get it all.”

This rang true from me yesterday.
As I sat to write my blog, I wracked my brain over and over, trying to figure out what to write on. 
I would start a sentence, just to delete it.
I asked God what I should write on and nothing came…until 5 hours later.

5 hours later, I found myself on a stage, singing in a songwriters round.

5 hours later, I had something to write about.

The stage is one of the scariest places on the planet for me.

In fact, I spent much of my life running away from the stage.
Despite all my efforts, the stage always seems to find me, and bring me back.

With trembling hands and a raising heart beat, I took the stage.

Thankfully, I didn't take it alone.  
My co-writer is always next to me, along with other writers.
In a scary place, it’s nice to not be alone.

The first song came and went, pretty much problem free.

The second song…not so much.  

Heading into the second verse, I started late, and messed up the melody.

Consequently, I had to completely stop, and re-start the song.

Fail.
Fail.
Fail.

When I got off stage, I kept my eyes lowered, looking directly at the floor. I didn’t want to catch anyone’s eyes. I had a hard time even looking at my co-writer, because I thought I had failed him.

When I got into my car to head home, the tears started falling.

 “Seriously God? This is exactly why I have stayed away from the stage for 15 years.  Why did you let me fail? Why did you let me fall? I can’t do this God. I’m not strong enough for music.”

You see, 15 years ago, I loved the stage.
15 years ago, I loved singing in front of people.
But all that changed one night.

 I received the part as Narrator for my school’s performance of, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.
After one of the performances, a person came up to me and commented about a note I had missed on one of the songs. Out of all the things I had done right, this person felt the need to tell me the one thing I did wrong.
Consequently, I vowed never to get on stage again.

When I got back to my house last night, my roommate asked how it went.

“Terrible. I messed up the song. “
 “Did you finish the song?”
 “Yes.”
 “Then I consider it a success.”
 “No, it wasn’t. I failed. I messed up.”

 “No, you did not fail. You finished the song. You didn’t cry and walk off stage. You finished it. And even if you would have cried, or failed to sing the rest of the song, I’m glad this happened to you. I’m glad you messed up. This was actually the best thing that could have happened to you. You are human, you are not perfect. You are not a machine, and you are going to make mistakes. You are going to need to learn to be ok with making mistakes. “

The beauty about songwriting is that it is raw.

As listeners, we get to hear a little bit of someone’s heart. As listeners, we get a glimpse into the vulnerability of what makes a person, a person.
As songwriters, we get to share a little bit of our heart. As songwriters, we get to share the things that make us who we are, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Art is not supposed to be perfect. Art is supposed to be real.

My brilliant roommate made me listen to a recording of, The Sounds of Silence, by Simon & Garfunkel.

Countless mistakes were made on the recording, but I didn’t hear them.
All I heard was an incredible piece of art.

I’m not running away from the stage this time.  

I’m not running away from my fears this time.
I’m not running away from my mistakes this time.

I am not a perfect songwriter.
I am a mistake- making, perfectly-imperfect songwriter.
100% flawed, 100% real.

Don’t do what I did 15 years ago.

Don’t run away.

“So you failed. Alright you really failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You think I care about that? I do understand. You wanna be really great? Then have the courage to fail big and stick around. Make them wonder why you're still smiling.” Elizabethtown

Fight Like Hell

I am a bit of a hypochondriac.

That’s an understatement.
I am a huge hypochondriac.

If I wake up with a cough, I believe I have H1N1.

If I wake up with side pains, I think that I have a kidney infection.
If I wake up with a rash, I think I got bit by a brown recluse.
If I wake up with swollen hands, I think I am about to have a stroke.

I went to the Dermatologist awhile ago because I thought I had found a cancerous spot on my skin.

I will never forget the doctor coming back into my room, taking of her glasses, and very seriously telling me, “You do not have cancer, you have an age spot.”

I am also a bit of a pill fanatic.

If life could be fixed by every kind of pill, sign me up.

The other week I was really struggling with anxiety, and starting to have panic attacks again.

I made a doctor’s appointment, in hopes that she or he would give me a pill to help with the stress.
Sadly, she didn’t.

When I told my friend about my appointment, she looked at me, dead in the eyes, and asked, “What are you scared of?”

To which I replied with long silence, and then answered, “Everything. I am scared of my future. I am scared of dying. I am scared of being alone. I am scared of songwriting. I am scared of not songwriting. I am scared of my life.”

The truth is that I am really struggling to find peace right now.

Oh, but you wouldn’t know that from the outside.
Behind the bangs, big hair, eyeliner, and heels, is a quivering child, scared of what the next step holds.

With this lack of peace, comes incredible discouragement.

Lately, it’s been easier to side with the enemy, believing the lies that he constantly sends me.

Lies such as, “You will never get married. You aren’t pretty. You will end up alone. You are a really bad Christian. You will never make it in songwriting.”
Over and over, he feeds me this crap, pardon my crudeness and bluntness.
And instead of fighting his lies with truth, I let him continue.

And then, last night, I saw it.
Someone had posted this quote on facebook, “If you saw the size of the blessing coming, you would understand the magnitude of the battle you are fighting.”

And at 11:15 last night, I wrote, “Think about it: Would the struggle and the fight be so strong if there was nothing worth keeping hidden?  Why would the enemy bother with something that didn’t matter? Amy, (because I write my first name when I am having a very serious conversation with myself), you are going to have to fight harder than you have ever had to fight…you are going to have to fight like hell, but, God will get you through.”

The truth is, I am tired of fighting.

Learning to not discard of anything that had calories in it has been exhausting.
Learning to eat carbohydrates again has been draining.
Learning to not pinch my stomach every morning, measuring the amount of fat I can gather, has been difficult.
I can’t tell you how many times I have cried myself to sleep, praying to Jesus to instantly heal me from this obsession with food and control.

Despite the strides I have made with recovery, holding down a full-time job, and holding down food, the battle continues.

Fighting for my future and my destiny is harder than I had ever imagined.
Those that think that you can just read a scripture, pray a prayer of freedom, and poof, everything is fixed…not so much.
Maybe for some it has worked that way, but not me.

For so long, I have quoted Exodus 14:14, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only be still.”

What I have not quoted, is the time God tells Abraham, “Go.”
What I have not quoted, is the time God tells Moses, “Raise your staff and stretch out your hand.”

 God always fights for us, but sometimes, He requires us to join Him.

The enemy knows we each have incredible potential.

The enemy knows what can happen if we believe in ourselves and our dreams.
The enemy knows how powerful we really are.
Because the enemy knows our future is worth fighting for, he will use every means possible to keep us buried in fear and regret, shame and self-doubt.

I have only begun to start the climb.

And I am going to have to fight like hell to reach the mountain top.

BUT, and this “but” changes everything, I am not going to be fighting alone. I will be fighting with the Creator of Life, the All-Powerful God, The Author of my life, and your life, The One Who performs the impossible, the One Who will not fail me, or you.

Maybe you are like me, and cry yourself to sleep some nights, because you know your life can be so much more, because you know you are made for more.
Maybe you are like me, scared to step out into the unknown, scared to see what the future lies.

Maybe you are like me, comfortable with predictable, but created for adventure.
Maybe like me, you are scared of your own potential.
Maybe you are like me, and need to start fighting like hell.