Blog

1.     Following our Dreams
2.     Sharing the Gospel 

1.     What are your dreams/passions?
2.     What are you doing about them?
3.     If you don’t have dreams/passions, why do you think that is?
4.     How does the gospel fit into you dreams/passions? Or, better yet, how do your dreams/passions fit into the gospel?  

–do you avoid?
–do you run?
–do you pretend you never wanted it in the first place?
–do you get angry?
–do you believe that God has ‘shut a door’?

Today I remembered a conversation a few of my counselors were having at the beginning of the summer. It was a terribly disjointed conversation as they attempted to accomplish a group development piece together. So, in between long silences and trying to achieve their goal, I only caught bits and pieces of what was actually being said.

Here’s what I recall:

Guy: (rather incredulously) Wait, you mean that a girl wakes up one morning and thinks that she looks good…but then the next morning she wakes up and suddenly thinks that she’s fat and ugly?!
Girl: Yeah! …Guys don’t do that?
Guy: No… 

It was a hilarious conversation to eavesdrop on as more and more girls chimed in, trying to get the males in the group to understand their thought process. It was a lost cause. As more people became involved in the discussion, there was a resounding agreement that men feel pretty consistently the same about themselves each morning and think it’s ludicrous that a woman will change how she feels about herself on a day-to-day basis.

And we wonder why we struggle to communicate between genders…

It’s pretty crazy, though. As a woman, I could definitely identify with this day-to-day struggle. Shoot, I might even admit that it’s a ‘within-each-day’ struggle as I leave my house feeling pretty fly, go to work, catch a glimpse of myself in a different mirror and realize how atrocious I actually look. It was actually quite surprising to hear the echo of men who don’t have that happen to them. I probably thought it was this natural thing we all dealt with. Turns out it might just be more of a female thing…

Interesting.
So while I can laugh at this conversation and how/when it all transpired, I don’t want to downplay the severity of what this really means for us women.

It means we’re crazy. Seriously.
Think about it.

Between yesterday and today what changed about you? Between today and tomorrow what will change about you? How much of the things that you see in the mirror are actually things that we’re making up in our heads?

I bet you didn’t gain 10 pounds overnight. I bet you didn’t develop giant bags underneath your eyes in a few hours (unless you cried and cried and cried- and even then, it’s temporary). I bet your hair doesn’t really look as different as you might think. I bet that zit isn’t as red, those wrinkles aren’t any more noticeable, those gray hairs don’t stick out more than they did yesterday.

So why do we operate within that mentality? Why do we allow for those to be the things that dictate how we feel about ourselves? Why does it even matter?

I’d like to challenge us all to step into the truth about who we are, versus the roller coaster of emotions that typically determine our view of ourselves. And while we can talk a ton about inner beauty and depth within, I also think there’s a certain level of necessity to being okay with who we are on the outside… a certain healthiness that comes with even liking what we look like and how we are created.

Instead of allowing ourselves to wallow in self-pity because we’re convinced we became obese overnight, I want us to walk freely into what reality and truth tell us. Or, be willing to own up to the fact that sometimes you might have a bad hair day and it doesn’t define how anyone else views you, let alone how you should see yourself.

Reality? You (unless you did something extreme to your appearance) probably look exactly the same as you did yesterday. Truth? You are infinitely more than your external appearance.

Claim it.
And so even if I don’t have the solution to not even having the ridiculous change of thoughts/emotions on a day-to-day basis…I think there’s a lot to learn as we seek to choose to believe truth even when our emotions are telling us something completely opposite.

I pray that today you would be content with what you look like–that you wouldn’t be consumed by it…and that you would move on to something deeper and more meaningful. Someone will be much more turned off by your heart than they will your perfect curls if you’ve spent the majority of your life only trying to perfect the outside.

So regardless of if your opinion of how you look changes on that day-to-day basis… I urge you to walk steady, being the consistent woman of love and integrity that you desire to be.

Because that matters.
That’s what changes lives.

Have you ever resigned yourself to something?

You know… resigned. Given up, conceded defeat, accepted that something undesirable could not be avoided?

I have. In quite a few things, actually.
I misunderstood what I was doing and while I thought I was merely being a realist, I was, in fact, resigning myself to a worse fate.

It happens with habits a lot.
I often resign myself to the fact that I’ll never change certain things. One of my more recent ones was biting my nails. I’ve literally chewed on my fingernails for the greater majority of my life, thinking it would be an impossibility to ever maintain anything other than my stubby, gnawed-on nails. One day I decided to stop. For whatever reason, unlike any other time before, the drive to stop became greater than my desire to chew. Success.

Was it really that easy? Kind of.

It happened even more recently with my weight.
I had gotten to the point in life where I had resigned myself to the fact that I was only going to gain weight from here on out. It wouldn’t matter what diet I did, how much I exercised, how much I cared… my size would only increase. It seemed inevitable.

It wasn’t until my my ‘big’ pants starting fitting tighter, that I realized that one of two things needed to happen: I either needed to lose weight or buy new clothes. The former seemed cheaper. For whatever reason, unlike any other time before, the desire to lose weight became greater than my desire to eat uncontrollable amounts of food. Success.

Was it really that easy? Kind of.

While these are very external, shallow things, it’s made me realize how much we settle for less than what we truly hope for. It’s made me realize that more is attainable through self-discipline and self-control. It’s made me realize the value of allowing ourselves to hope for better than what we’ve resigned ourselves to, to make changes, and to watch dreams become reality.

This mentality has extended into other areas of life that I formerly felt defeated in. It’s extended to relationships, to faith, to future plans: the impossible seems more realistic than ever before. I don’t have to resign myself to anything anymore. There truly is hope, because I’ve now experienced it in a way I never have before.

I mostly just want to encourage you that it can happen for you, too. That there really is a reason to hope. There is a chance that things can be different. You don’t have to resign yourself to worse fate than what you desire. You can change. You can be different. The seemingly impossible is more attainable than you might ever imagine!

I don’t want to carry the tune of some motivational speaker that drones on with the ‘you can do it’ chant of self-help. I just need you to know that whatever ‘it’ is for you doesn’t have to be that way. Whether it’s an addiction, or hopelessness, or an eating disorder, or relational trauma, or identity struggles…there’s this balance between being truly okay with who we are at the core, but then still striving for the better.

I think, for the first time in a long time, I just feel content with who I really am…but, I’m still chasing dreams and goals–knowing that those aren’t the things that define me, but they’re still good. There’s a joy to be found that wasn’t there before. There’s a greater trust in a God who is so faithful to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine… and I want to hold Him to it.

So- don’t resign yourself to anything.
You can do more than you think.
Be determined.
Seek self-discipline and self-control. Pray fervently that that fruit of the Spirit would captivate you as you move forward in a world of hope and transformation.

It exists.
I promise.

The end of a camp experience usually brings about a flood of emotional goodbyes as we attempt to say all the things we’re not sure we’ll ever have the chance to say again. It’s as if these final moments before departure are the only seconds we are promised and we want to exist in a world of no regrets…we never want to look back and think, ‘I wish I would have told him/her this…’

I know I experienced it just a few days ago. As my summer staff departed, I wanted them to leave the summer knowing that it had been, indeed, a job well done. I fumbled over words as I tried to convey the depth of my gratitude for their hard work, longing for them to know that they mattered and that everything they sacrificed this summer was worth it. I needed them to know that they were truly cared about.

Not too surprisingly, the gesture was often returned. I found myself receiving many a praise and thanks from my staff…and I found myself nodding and smiling as they lavished words of kindness and blessings upon me.

Per usual, I felt each word knock against the door of my heart and slowly drip into a puddle at the doorstep, patiently waiting to enter. ‘Not now’, always seems to be the response I give. It’s not time to receive these things, it’s not time for them to be allowed in. It’s not time because I’m not sure if they are true, if they are real, if they are genuine.

For a split second (and for the first time in a long time), I allowed myself to wonder what if…
What if these things that they are saying are true? What if they are genuine? What if…? And as this questioned penetrated my mind, I felt myself slowly losing control. I felt the sobs that were burrowed underneath begin to rise up, I felt the puddle at the doorstep begin to seep into the tiny crack in the just barely opened door as the words attempted to penetrate my heart.

SLAM!

It wasn’t time.

So while I haven’t exactly opened the door to the floodgate of good, encouraging things that await me…I’ve realized a few things about myself.

• I haven’t gotten any better at receiving things from others (which means I’m probably not that great at receiving them from the Lord, either).
• I’m terrified of what it means to really believe that people think these things. 

I could probably use your help as I jump back into the blogosphere post summer. I could probably use your help as I take my finger off the ‘pause’ button of blogging and hesitantly settle my finger over ‘play’. It’s time.

I don’t know if it’s the long hours, the contradicting emotions presenting themselves behind every corner, the lack of sleep, or simply a case of writer’s block…but my thoughts feel disconnected and scattered.

I saw some sweet things this summer, and was a part of God moving in some big ways. People left camp different than they came–whether they were campers, group leaders or summer staff. I’m still sorting through the ways my own faith was challenged and stretched and what that means for me as I leave this place. I’m still sorting through the questions, conversations and words that were shared as we strove for excellence and over-exceeded the limits of what was humanly possible. I’m still sorting through what was good and honoring to the Lord and how to continually push further into those things instead of things that only gratify my flesh.

So, in the process of sorting…I’m not sure where that leaves me in terms of writing.

This is where you come in!
I’d love to hear your questions, thoughts, struggles as I resume where I left off in May. I’d love your input on the things you want to read about and things you need to process through.

Mostly, I don’t want to be caught up in writing things that only pertain to my thoughts/feelings as I go through this big transition in life. It’s bound to get repetitive and boring. I’d like to write about the things that you want to read about…things that inspire you, motivate you and bring you to a better place. Things that remind you that we exist in a world of second chances.

What is it for you?
What’s on your heart lately?
What questions plague you?
What things do you struggle believing?
What’s been bothering you about yourself/others?
Why do you currently feel hopeless?
What do you wish were different about yourself or your circumstances?
What sin are you entangled in?
Who has hurt you lately?
What are you running from… and why?

I want to dive back into this dialogue with each of you, but I’ll need your help to get there. Feel free to comment below or, like always, send your stuff to alwayssecondchances@gmail.com

Can’t wait to explore the unknown with you this fall.
I hope you’re willing to go to uncharted territory with me– ’cause I plan on being more brutally honest and open than ever before. So…  are you ready?

I’m pushing ‘play’.

I recently remembered a phone call I received from a good friend several years ago.

It was one of those friends that you don’t have to talk to very often to feel close to. It was one of those phone calls where you feel helpless because there’s nothing you can do or say to make their situation any better. His dad had just died.

I remember tears streaming down my cheeks as he told me where he was at in the process of mourning. And while there was still such sorrow, there was this inexplicable joy that was undeniable in his tone.

More than anything, I remember him telling me that it was time to sing a new song. That while there was heartache and sadness, there was still the hope of new and different…there was still the hope that the while one season was coming to an end, there was the promise of better and good right around the corner.

I find myself uttering those words a lot since then.
I find myself clinging to that idea a lot….especially right now.

As summer wraps up, I find myself in a position that I haven’t been in for a long while. A season of my life is ending. A chapter has finished. It’s time to sing a new song.

I don’t know if I’ve had the time to process through the emotions that come with the change. Mostly I feel ready to jump into the unknown, but occasionally sorrow sets in as I realize the things I’m leaving behind.

I know I’ve been thinking a lot about my response to things ending, though. That while sometimes I can’t change my circumstances, there’s a lot of value in how I respond and react to things despite how hard and terrifying they may be.

Instead of being angry, instead of distancing myself, instead of sadness…what if I respond with hope of the endless possibilities that lie ahead? What if I finish well, and continue to love even through the heartache? What if I find joy in the beauty of singing a new song?

I don’t know where you’re at in life right now. Perhaps the end of summer means something new is just around the corner for you as well. Perhaps your circumstances have you in a place of significant change. Perhaps the changes mean good-byes, letting go, moving on.

I hope, if that’s you, that you can join me in approaching the change with hope. That together we might be willing to admit that there can be so much good, even when it means that something that we care for deeply has to die. That it is possible to sing a new song…and that new song could actually be a better song…even if it stings a little right now.

This time I don’t get the choice in singing a new song.
It’s what lies before me as the next few weeks unfold.
The choice now lies in the singing of a better song… and this I plan on doing.
With everything I am, I’m determined that the chapter just completed is not the best chapter in the book and that with each turning of the page, it just gets better, and better, and better.

That’s something worth hoping and striving for.
That’s something worth singing about.

Ready or not…

I often wonder how many of us are discontent in life.

Discontent because we’re not where we think we ‘should’ be.
‘Should’ could be a literal place, but I think, more often than not, it’s this state of existence that we’ve created for ourselves.

We ‘should’ be better Christians- we ‘should’ pray more, read our Bibles more, praise the Lord more, be more selfless, love others more.
We ‘should’ be happier- we ‘should’ be more joyful, despite our circumstances.
Our relationships ‘should’ be a romantic mess where everything else around us fades away and time stands still. A place where dreams are fulfilled and we are finally complete.

I’m mostly tired of ‘shoulds’.
‘Should’ has become this tragedy because it reminds me that almost nothing is exactly how it ‘should’ be. ‘Should’ has become an ideal that too often leaves me disappointed and scattered, searching for a trace of its existence in a fallen world.

A world of ‘shoulds’ has caused me to judge others harshly.
A world of ‘shoulds’ has caused me to never think I’m good enough.

In this world of ‘shoulds’ others should always be better and I should always try harder.

Too often I’m disappointed. Too often I’m discontent. Too often I exist in misery because my reality isn’t ever a fulfillment of the ‘shoulds’ but more often it’s a reminder of how much the ‘shouldn’ts’ take victory.

I keep thinking about the damage that has been done. I keep wondering when the taste of disappointment and inadequacy will fade from our souls. I keep wondering how much guilt is wrapped around our hearts and how much pride is mixed up in that, forming some complicated web we can never undo ourselves.

I just wonder if we’ve been doing/thinking things wrong our whole lives.
That instead of freedom, we’ve walked straight into prison.
Instead of living life to the full, we’ve slaughtered every bit of joy and delight.

I don’t know if you can relate.
I mostly know that I’ve spent the greater part of my life always feeling like I ‘should’ be better. I’ve spent the greater part of my life expecting that others ‘should’ also be better. And instead of allowing me to be me and others to be themselves…I’ve existed in a place of wanting more, of never being satisfied.

Pushing toward better is one thing…but striving toward impossible?
The more challenging part is that my ‘shoulds’ are often different from your ‘shoulds’. And, to some degree, I probably want you to hold yourself to my standard of ‘shoulds’ instead of your own. My selfishness is unveiled.

I wonder how much I miss out on the good right before me because I’m too consumed with the absence of what ‘should’ be.

I’m tired of overlooking the good.
I’m tired of the discontentment.

It’s time to turn a new page, to sing a new song… it’s time for a fresh start.
Right here, right now.

I’m through measuring myself and others up to a list of ‘shoulds’ and ‘shouldn’ts’

Are you?

Are you honest with yourself?
Like… really honest?

I sometimes think I’m unwilling to admit how much I don’t have it together… I sometimes think I’m unwilling to admit how much I doubt, how much I struggle, how much I’m jealous, how much I’m selfish, how much I’m lazy, how much I just don’t care.

‘Cause if I were to admit all those things, what kind of person would that make me?

And so I pretend. Don’t we all?

As I sit here, typing at my desk, I hear a camper off in the distance screaming at the top of his lungs. It’s real. It’s angry. He’s been abandoned by his father.

I can’t remember the last time that I just let loose. The last time when I screamed at the top of my lungs, the last time when I wept uncontrollably, the last time when I’ve allowed myself to be…. imperfect.

I’m ticked at Christianity.
I’m ticked at society.
I’m ticked at myself.
I’m ticked at the expectations that have been placed on me and the expectations that I’ve placed on myself.

‘No one must ever see you stumble’ seems perpetually stamped on my heart. For as much as I can tell you that I struggle, seeing it becomes an entirely different issue.

Two nights ago I was pegged in the back of the head with a water balloon. A half hour later I was pegged square in the chest. Bad luck. I didn’t know how to respond, either. It was that awkward moment where you feel dumb, but you simultaneously want to play it off like it’s no big deal. People are staring… some are laughing, some are gawking, some just don’t care. But I felt like everyone was watching.

Isn’t that life, though?
Something happens… and we fumble through which mask to throw on as we speedily attempt to recover in the most gracious way possible. Sometimes we laugh at ourselves, sometimes we beat ourselves up, sometimes we try to ignore what just happened, sometimes we storm out angrily, sometimes we throw a temper tantrum.

I can’t remember the last time I reacted to something without filtering through a thousand different scenarios of how people might view me if I just reacted the way I wanted to.

Because, when it comes down to it, I’m not very honest with myself because I’m still holding myself to the standard of how others view me.

What if I screamed at the top of my lungs…?
What if I wept uncontrollably…?

…what if I stopped trying to hold it all together and was?

Tonight’s one of those nights.
One of those nights where I’m reminded that there is nothing good in me… and only through Christ have I been redeemed. It’s one of those nights where if I’m really honest with myself, I see that in my weakness He is made strong… and that in His strength, He is more than enough for me.

So maybe if I can bring myself to not only admit that I’m imperfect… but then be willing to let go of this ridiculous standard that I’m trying to hold myself to…

Maybe then I just might be the type of person who is desperate for Jesus… instead of the type of person who is self-righteous and prideful, hiding the reality of who I am behind a mask of someone I can only wish to be.

Which would you rather be?

Honesty blows.
But it’s always better.

So go scream.
Go cry.
Let loose.
And in your weakness, believe that you might just actually be at your very best.