Chasing moments

Learning to live courageously one moment at a time

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Scarring

 I have developed a small bump next to my nose piercing that will NOT. Go. AWAY. Initially, I believe I was irritating it as I was trying to “Clean “ it too much. Then trying to “leave it alone,” I think it might have turned into scarring. It interesting how the very thing we try to avoid, is sometimes the environments we create for the very thing to occur. Initially, when I was planning to write this blog, the focus was on how in marriage, if a wound is not properly taken care of, it is prone to scar, and even lead to possible infection. It seems as though I have felt a gaping wound, raw, more often than not in marriage. And frequently left unattended, the skin seems to grow over tougher, causing a nasty scar. But as I started writing, I began to wonder if I am creating an environment that’s preventing my wounds from being healed. If so, what does this mean for me and those around me? Am I the Unhealable? Underlying chronic issues prevent wounds from healing....DO I have chronic issues that are not dealt with that have been surfacing in my relationships? 

These questions do NOt entice me to discover the hidden meaning and possible answers, rather, it is repulsing to think that there is more issues of me that are unaddressed and affecting my present.Yet my therapist mantra is noticing some of the heavy shame-based-language I am using to judge self, opposed to seeking empathy and understanding for the chronic pain/issues that are preventing my wound from healing.

What does healing mean? How does healing occur? The wound healing process is complex and fragile. It is very susceptible to an interruption of the healing process which causes trauma to the site or prevents the natural maturation of healing from occurring. However, if healing is too slow, and takes too much time, a scar begins to form. Rather if oxygen and blood flow are available and no further trauma to the site occurs, the skin is able to regenerate and return to its original elasticity.

Wounds do not heal in a vaccum. They are also reliant on healthy nurtition to the body to aid in the healing process, and proper treatment/care with air/oxygen to heal. Neither do wounds in relationship. We cannot heal in isolation from other, or in isolation from a healthy holistic environment/atmosphere.

Ending here, on my journey to deeper healing, from a holistic mind (thought), body(heart) and spirit (art of mysterious connection to the God in people)

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Coming to an end

It is time, for me to say goodbye. However, I am just added to your list of individuals who have abandoned you. Individuals who were supposed to connect with you or provide you comfort and meet your needs, yet have neglected and abandoned you. I am added to that list. You have been brave to trust me with your heart, and to scandalously put yourself out there, again, only to feel the broken heart that is heavily hanging inside your chest. I am sorry for this awkward goodbye, where I try to justify that it is not YOUr fault, yet the voice in your head speaks louder than my lips. The trauma resurfaces, and your body relives the abandonment, again and again and again. Searching for safety in order to survive, yet promising yourself that you Won't DO IT again. you won’t trust another person so deeply, so you won’t have to feel the pain of being rejected, just for being vulnerable. The temptation creeps in to relieve the agony as you stare intently at the razor blade in your drawer. Your mind feels like a tug of war, with both sides equally stating their case of why you should or should not relieve the pain through slicing your skin. YOu feel like you deserve it, and the shame is your only friend at this time. No one knows, and no one cares. your counselor isn't even there to ask you. The numbness consumes you as you feel as though your entire body has entered into a deep freezer. Are you dead, or are you alive? YOu cannot even answer the question. YOu begin to float above yourself, as you see yourself listening to music in your room. Nothing is making sense, and you are searching for something yet you don’t know what you’re looking for. Until you realize, you’re looking for yourself.

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Don’t call me “White”

You may wonder why I am not indifferent to the term “white” coined by society in order to describe Euro-caucasian origin individuals NOT including white hispanics or mixed individuals. However, the term white symbolizes purity, cleanliness, without blemish, perfect, pure breed. This symbolism perpetuates the belief of white supremacy, and I do not want to have a part in this. Black is used to describe dirty, unclean, blemished, dark, unknown, scary, without light, evil, defect. This is what we use to describe individuals of an ethnicity that is not euro-caucasian. This is not only alienated, it has preconditioned our minds to see black males in this sort of light. We need new terms to recondition our minds to see individuals as unique, and equal. The terms we use to describe one another DO matter. They influence how we think, perpetuate biases and in turn influence how we interact with one another.

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Death and resurrection of my faith

I am learning to come to an acceptance for the reoccurrence of death and life for my faith. Yet, although my faith continually is squelched of all life and belief, it somehow cycles through restoration. I also hate the term “my faith”. I don’t see it as something I posses, or own alone, rather an extension of myself into the communal aspect of interconnected life and humanity.

Its during the days when I sit in front of my clients, commit to meeting them in the pain and sorrow and experience the death and resurrection of faith again and again and again. The god-forsaken things that have happened to these people who are trapped in a community who cycles through poverty, violence, alcoholism, rape, murder, and grief/loss. Every week is a new story of severe heartache, and yearning to find a way to regain life and stability with so much loss and sorrow. Never fully grieving or recovering from the last incident. These people embody more of God than any other person I have ever met. People of sorrows, born into broken families, loss of their land and identity, born of wedlock. They’re  refugees in their homeland. Yet, no one is acknowledging that they don’t feel safe in their own home. And their land is not their own as how they once know it. It makes me think of the phrase “No good thing comes out of Nazareth” this seems to be a fitting phrase for the reservation. Ain’t nobody talks about the good coming out of this community, yet Jesus came out of Nazarene. This is the birthplace for hope restored in humanity. BUt how? 

I am reminded of the beatitudes which were a complete paradox to societal constructs. 

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God. Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

I don’t believe Jesus was instructing us to become “poor” in such terms, or a command for us to become BLESSED!  Mind you, rather for an elevation of those who are consistently downtrodden and marginalized to treat them as the most regarded and blessed members of society. The kingdom of God is always a reversal on how society is. Society values the capitalistic mentality of individualism, “self-made”, do it yourself, success, greed, wealth, power, boasting, continual climbing of the patriarchal structure. The reversal is poor, dependent, broken, weak, communal.

How do we grapple with the life cycle, and the pain and grief when the cycles of joy and happiness are few and far between? The notion of life and death within ourselves, within our community, within our universe, and with our savior. How do we look suffering in the face? What does suffering do to a human? That human is never the same after the suffering. What happens existentially when suffering is shared?

Why does suffering exist? Why would we need suffering to get close to God? Does God create suffering so get close to us? As there are no words to heal suffering, there are no answers to these questions. But the presence of another is by far greater than any cure known to man. 

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The pro-life debate

Who would have thought that a women’s march for women’s rights would cause so much conflict with religious folks? Let’s talk about the hot topic  of abortion and anti-abortion debate. I think the problem is, that right wing conservatives look at the problem of abortion in a vacuum. They see the issue of abortion as a single person making a decision to kill their baby because they simply don’t want it. However, it’s not that simple. No problem in society exists in a vaccum, or in isolation from other issues. Just as reported on the news a couple weeks ago,  In yellow stone park, wolves started to attack and take over areas of the park - the park rangers decided they would kill off the wolves to fix the problem. Little did they know, that they started to have an overpopulation of deers, which lead to deforestation and an entire breakdown of the ecological system. NO problem exists in isolation from other problems. The problem with abortion exists because of poverty, low paying jobs, lack of resources for single moms, lack of job opportunities, lack of support/access to resources. THe other argument to why abortion exists is shame, a society that continues to shame and redicule the pregnant teen, or the child born out of wetlock. Lastly, the mysogony and rape culture also gives fuel to the fire as to why an individual would consider the option of abortion. So how are you going to tell a 19 year old girl, born into poverty, no resources to raise a child, hasn’t finished school, no job opportunities, and no health care to just give birth to a baby and figure it out? This leads to an overpopulation of kids in foster care system, because she can’t take care of the child in isolation from support and resources. Now let me be clear here, I think the unborn baby is the most precious gift given to humanity, and every life deserves a chance if given. But tell me conservatives, how are you going to take away all the funding for health care, food stamps, housing opportunities, WIC, affordable day care solutions, post partum support and work first and expect someone who isn’t born into wealth to raise a healthy child?? This is ludacris. Yet, the argument is to fight to preserve the life with the expiration date of the due date. Once the baby is born, no fighting for human rights of the child, demanding the child to have his/her basic needs met. No resources, are given, the life is clearly not valued, according to actions, after he or she is born. OK, so you want to talk poverty now, lets GO! You say, well yeah if they would work hard and get a job and not spend money on drugs or stupid things they wouldn’t be in poverty. Lets talk about poverty. The majority of white americans are BORN into wealth. Whether it be their parents, inheriting money, or inheriting a trust fund, or inheriting resources. I’m not saying that there aren’t many white americans who were not born into wealth, but were still given the opportunity to be born into some kind of resources. The historical oppression of native americans who were institutionalized into the boarding camps, robbed them of a generation to parent their children, to preserve their culture, and to establish a way of life. Their way of life was built on the river, sustaining their crops, cattle and community. When the water was taken from them in order to industrialize a city, they were left with the only resources of alcohol and corner sweets. And we still wonder why the native american community struggles with alcoholism and diabetes?

That’s not even touching on the afro-diaspora slave trade that indebted hundreds of thousands of africans to the white slave owners. The wealth was accumulated and passed down within the white community, where the african american community inherited debt.

My plead is that you commit to hearing stories of those who are marginalized and the fears they have for trying to bring a baby into this world. Meet them in the midst of this fear, and stop judging people who have taken their baby’s life for fear that they cannot support or be a mom in the conditions they are living in.

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Trigger warning - Election trauma

Yes, I am about to post some of my thoughts, and opinions during this whole election season. I'm sure you have already heard a million different opinions on the daily, yet this is more for me than for you. It is for me, before it is for you. But maybe somehow, you will receive what I and trying to conceive.

I have kept quiet on my viewpoints regarding politics and this election season for fear of breaking out into an argument. I know that I see things very differently from most “christians” and inwardly I tell myself to value the relationship over discussing my opinion. However, I am stepping outside of the safety zone, and into the danger zone. I have held back, suppressed and even silenced my thoughts, so that you don’t have to feel threatened by me. But now, I have found the courage to put that behind me, and allow me to be me, fully exposed. I realized that the mask I wear depends on the people I am around. When I feel overwhelmed by their ignorance to their “white privledge” and classism, I tend to shut down, and project my feelings onto a safer person. I wear a mask of silence to people,  innerwardly raging with an anger that does not get explored or communicated, rather stews inside me. It’s time to put a stop to those practices, that are not only hurting myself, but hurting you as well.

To begin, there is deep shame, hurt, confusion, anger, that stems from the roots of my family tree. The racism runs deep in my blood and ancestorial guilt cripples my ability to verbalize my thoughts. I have learn to hear the voice of those struggling, sought to understand their perspective in how life is for them. I desire to eradicate the inner racism I was raised with. But, how then can my own flesh and blood continue to deny how racism exists today, or refuses to believe that systematic oppression exists within our police force, schools, & justice system, or how class, race, ethnicity, gender, disability, continue to experience oppression from policies and people.  I was thrown for a loop when I had to face the harsh reality that my family holds to traditional principals that continually oppress others, and attaches the biblical label that somehow OKs it. When did Christians never stop using scriptures to oppress others, and to maintain their status and privilege. When did I feel responsible and connected to this abuse of scripture reading and corruption of Christianity that is alive in my family and former community? To see my own mother supporting a man who encourages rape culture; mocks the disabled, stereotypes and degrades Mexicans, and denies the harm of his speech and actions as he continues to degrade them. To see a respected female woman who outright supports Trump’s principals when she has previously fought for the oppressed. In coming face to face with the reality of close minded people and people who continue to perpetuate racism that still exists today, I have tried to make sense of what I am seeing and hearing from those that I love. It is impossible to not take these endorsements as personal attacks on Sostenes and I. This is his life, he does not just vote for immigration based on feelings or facts, this is his life. He does not just feel brown more than other days, he is reminded of it daily when he notices how the public interacts with him. This is his life.

I know I am rambling, and my goal is to allow these pent up feelings breathing room to be expressed without the fear of being judged or ridiculed. Please hear me out, as I try to uncover the anger that has been stewing, to better understand the hurt and grief I have readily become numb to.

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I’m dreading writing this post. It’s going to open the floodgates of shame, guilt and take me off my high horse of disillusionment with myself. I tend to think of my self as very progressive, up to date on systematic oppression and fighting against racial injustice....But that doesn’t mean that I don’t struggle with my own biases and racism. In fact, to not write this dehumanizes me, and condemns others. I racial profiled a black male. Over the past couple of months, as I was turning into my neighborhood early morning, I would notice a black man sometimes sitting in a black pick up truck, or exiting the truck which was parked on the side of the street near the park. The first time I saw him, I didn’t think much of it, but occasionally, I would see him smoking a cigarette before heading to his house. He was usually dressed in older clothes, hygiene below average. After seeing him multiple times, I began to question his integrity, and his intention sitting in his truck. These thoughts are absolutely absurd as I had never SEEN him do anything questionable. These are the thoughts of a racially driven environment, media and family. No matter how far I have come working through my biases and fighting against racial injustice, I struggle being a product of my environment. These thoughts are the very thoughts that then proceed to calling the cops to report “suspicious activity” of a black man in my predominately white suburbia neighborhood. As I didn’t think much of it, but did catch myself watching him a couple of times to see if he lived in our neighborhood. Ashamed I didn’t catch myself earlier, as he was near a home on the street corner that was busted for drugs a couple months back (by all whites living inside). Today as I took my daughter to the playground, I met a neighbor. Older women in her 40s with a almost 2year old black daughter. My initial thought again was “Oh she must be the foster mom”. As the mom stated she didn’t want to have any more kids although her husband did, since she was 40. It hit me, she is married to a black man. She went on to say that her husband works graveyard and they are on opposite shifts. Now my head felt heavy. Her husband was the man I had racially profiled as”questionable” in my head. He was working graveyard which is why I was seeing him early mornings. This was a wake up call. We all need them, to stay woke.

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It isn’t about black lives matter vs. all lives matter, its facing your demons

Dear white americans, you’ve missed it. YOu have missed the heart of the issue at hand because of your pride. Pride in your success off of oppression of others. You’re identity has been formed in your success off of others’ back. You oppress the poor to climb the hierarchy of success and ideal image. Yet you refuse to see the dark corruption at the core of your heart, paved with good intentions. Holding to the belief that “you’re a good person” and “don’t wanna hurt no body”. Yet you have. You’re forefathers have. They were not heros. You are not a hero. A hero is someone who fights for those who have been stepped on, trotted on, disenfranchised. You cling so desperately that you are not a racist, but you fail to see the life you live that continually perpetuates the mistreatment of minorities, consuming products that contribute to the cycle of slave labor and unequal wages, contributing to police brutality through being silent and turning a blind eye. You don’t get involved, why should you? It doesn’t affect your people, and yet “black males are committing crimes anyway and the black and blue are just trying to protect people.” You should be ashamed of the way you side step the issue at hand and justify your acts. Why is it more comforting for you to let the brutality and violence of the oppressed continue decade after decade than to face your own demons of racism, pride, and egocentricism? For God sake, neglect your false identity that gives you false security and comfort on the backs of those being persecuted. 

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Snap shot into life on the reservation...

Removed from your bio parents at 2 months due to alcoholism and drug use. Raise by your aunt until you were 2yrs old. Bio mom fights for custody and wins for another 2 years until she is incarcerated and you are placed with your grand ma who is also taking care of 8 of your cousins as well. Your uncle who lives there periodically exposed you to heroine at age 11. YOure placed into the foster care system where you stay with a foster family for 5 years and then your foster dad is incarcerated due to sexual abuse allegations. You are thrown into a homeless shelter for youth where you know its only a matter of time before you’re thrown into a new environment. Disruption of every time of attachment with another human being before the age of 15. You try to find inner stability within yourself, but end up blaming yourself for all the neglect and abuse you’ve experienced first hand. You cant shake the feeling that somehow if you had been different you would be accepted, or your parents would want you instead of their next fix. Yet, you are so numb to the idea of caring or attaching to others, yet deeply alone and isolated...Left with a blade in your hand, slicing your arm to feel something, to feel anything to know that you are still alive, to know that you can somehow let out all the torment and anguish you feel inside... YOure so familiar with the ways of the system, that you almost know how to “Say the right things” to keep these people away so you don’t have to get attached and then be ripped from them again. You pull and push people away because you’re desperate for connection, but associate connection with the thing that is killing you slowly...You battle the war in your mind, but sometimes give in because you don’t see a future or hope for you...rather tormented by the thoughts and feelings that you are a failure, who has made other people push you away... And there you sit, in front of a white female who is asking you to challenge those thoughts as truth, and consider to see and believe about you differently, yet all you see is every relationship and event pointing towards your worthlessness...She has no idea what its like to live in my shoes, and there’s no point cause she’ll be gone before a matter of time....

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I am my own god

Here I am. Sitting on the couch, legs tucked up underneath me, 8 month old down for the last nap of the day. There’s so much I wanted to articulate, to express, and now I’m blank. Thinking about God as absurd. Somehow, I just don’t see GOd praising the one who tried to live righteously, follow the “good book” and keep the religious rules. It’s scary to think of a God who is just present in the suffering, but does not stop it. A God who is more than a fairy tale ending, and more than just someone who gives “meaning”. We so often make God into an object that we label and pin down to make us feel better about our self-projected ideal image of who we are, that we call “God”. Scary to think some of us are so attached to our theology, and being right that we refuse to open up to the possibility that we could be wrong, deathly wrong. It is so humbling to believe that we could have it all wrong, and instead desperately need  to learn from others around us, instead of trying to “teach” or “evangelize” others. In listening to the Robcast (Rob bell) who interviewed Peter Rollins - I was struck by the words that Pete said that it seems like God would not say to us- Love your enemies as a wealthy people group, but rather “Stop stealing from the poor”. We steal and oppress,we are oppressors of the marginalized and the poor, we are western America living the “American dream”. I am western America, product of my environment, yet viciously contributing to the cycle of poverty and oppression day in and day out...

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Truth or truth?

Growing up in a very controlled environment, my mind, heart and soul were contained to a certain perimeter of morals, principals and way of life. I learned very quickly what was accepted by my environment, and what was judged. This was equated with the “Christian road” or “Christian principles”. It was no doubt that when I hit my “searching for truth” teenage years, I rebelled against these hollow principles to find and search for more meaning. I was in-doctrinated that when we hear words like “relative truth” or more than “one truth” it was essentially a lie from the devil, and the only truth was “Our truth” which was of course the ALL ENCOMPASSING CHRISTIAN TRUTH. At the time, this seemed, odd, but I was unable to understand all the things that were being projected onto this so called “capital-T Truth” from society, culture, white culture/privilege, “conservativism”, and any other beliefs that “produces” good behavior. In not being allowed to explore the subjectivity of your “Truth” that you call “God’s Truth” you limit yourself to never fully understand or be able to see and know “capital T Truth”. Rather, fear keeps you locked into your perspective of truth that you have fearfully and mistakenly labeled as God’s truth. We use the Bible as a way to reinforce our “truth”. To teach us “lessons” about how we should be more like them!. Yet, we’ve become so caught up in upholding our morality and “good principals” that we cannot recognize truth, we cannot recognize Jesus, we pass him by......and are sure that it is not him.

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Blog post inspired by “boundaries”

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Think about your thinking!

We live in a world where we are continuously bombarded by ideas and opinions from social media and any other social networking site. We’ve lost our ability to own our own thoughts, to weigh opinions before blindly believing. In doing so, we consume and never analyze what we are actually thinking. Allowing anyone to “possess” our mind as we fail to challenge the thoughts of others.

In therapy, it is seen how all of us accept many irrational core beliefs about ourselves or others, and this directly shapes how we interact with our environment and how we live our lives. For so long, I lived under the shackles of comparison. Comparing myself to others, through appearance, intellect, humor, “cool factor”, and the list goes on. Even when I was “rebelling” against certain cultural beliefs that I was surrounded by, I still measured my success or value by acceptance of others, or popularity. I see now how developing your own identify, thoughts, opinions and setting your own boundaries to really shape your backbone is such a healthy personal decision. Yet, in being  a mother and thinking about future conversations I will have with Iris, I realize I also have to be ok with talking about things that I don’t have an opinion formed yet, I think it is far better to be open and honest with someone about not having an opinion, than randomly adopting an opinion on something from social media.

Yes, I do believe people’s words should have influence in our lives, especially those we are close to, yet if one person tells us we are a complete screwup, we need to have the skills to not take that in and allow that to shape our identity. Look at abusive relationships, the victim/survivor has adopted the belief that they are worth what the perpetrator is telling them.

I say all this to say, don’t sell your mind to the media. Take your thoughts captive and analyze what you believe to be true. Search to find the truth, the truth does not just fall from the sky, or rather the tweet cloud!

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Baby days

My little one is getting close to 5 months! Everyone says “time flies”, but literally some changes did happen overnight! That is weird to see. I love the long days that I get to spend with her, and for right now only having to work 2 days a week. I’m so thankful for my job allowing this, and for my husband to agreeing to be the one working full time while he is in school full-time. One thing I would not recommend is having children while in school. 

As Iris has gotten the hang of rolling over, she only wants to sleep on her tummy. Which makes naps easier, but of course I worry if she will smash her face into the mattress when I’m not looking. She has become so alert, loves to coo and babble all day long. My favorite is when we co-sleep and she will hold my hand till she falls asleep, or rub her hand all over my face. I love seeing her relationship with her dad grow and grow as he has 2 days that are just “daddy-daughter days”.

I will say that my anxiety has gone way down and I’ve learned to really trust my gut and instincts more than anything people say on google or even my doctor. I’m saying that I can usually sense when something is not right and we need to see a doctor, or if some days, i don’t try to make her nap on her own and let her nap in my carrier on my chest. In the beginning, I was pulled by trying to figure out if I should let her self-soothe, and figure out falling to sleep on her own or not. I wish I could take back that week where I thought that was a good idea! Following your baby;s lead is so much better, and they let you know what they’re ready for.

Back at work, my main role has been providing clinical supervision for staff - which I do enjoy... But it has made me feel a little inauthentic when I harp on staff the importance of including self-care and/or meditation practice into their routine, when I’ve failed to do so myself. I feel like I am lacking in self-discipline in every area of my life - exercise, faith, tongue, ect. Where do I start with beginning to implement this into my life?

It seems like so much of faith plays out in the mundane routine of our lives, yet thats the hardest most simple way to allow it to come through. Not glamourous, takes work, commitment, discipline, sacrifice - all of which I don’t feel like I have, besides caring for my daughter at all hours of the day HAHA does that count??

All i have time for today..... this is where I’m at.

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Trust and acceptance

These two words have completely turned my world upside down. We live in a society where we think we understand the depth of these words, and know what it means to trust someone, ourself or even God. However, these words are not found at the surface of any relationship.

In becoming new parents - the word trust and dependence takes on a whole new meaning. Am I trustworthy to be fully responsible to make decisions and take care of my daughter? If I find that I’ve made a decision that is harmful to her, who can I blame but myself? My daughter is completely dependent on me and my decisions to take care of her and make the best decisions to promote her wellbeing. I could have said in the past that yes, I believe I am a good mother and genuinely care for my daughter, but when I am deeply honest with myself, I am consumed by anxiety and fear when faced to make a decision that could directly impact my daughter’s wellbeing. It began in the womb, when I made decisions about food to eat, exercise, health and sleep. But now it supercedes the indirect level of caring for her. I see her face, touch her skin, smell her scent - she is her own tiny human yet completely dependent on me. When I’m confronted by her sickness, pain cries, bleeding finger and now chest cough, I am torn inside about trusting in God and remaining in prayer yet desperately seeking medical intervention to ensure I did what I could to prevent anything from getting worse since she is so little. I find myself full of anxious prayer - which seems like an oxymoron. How can I be anxiously praying? Rather, shouldn’t I be praying from a place of peace, rest and trust? That takes discipline. It is something we must practice and train ourselves to enter His presence in this way.

What does trust look like in my marriage? Instead of looking at trust on a basic level such as, trusting my husband around people of the opposite sex, or trusting that his word is true.. In what ways do I manifest that I do no trust him? Am I controlling on how he should take care of his daughter? Do I just step in and do it myself, cause I don’t think it will be done correctly? These questions confront a lack of trust that is in the dna of our humanity, but consciously discovering them is what the fabrics of our relationship beg for.

And what about acceptance. What does it mean to truly accept ones-self? I have been exploring this journey of radical self-acceptance, and discovered how much I don’t accept myself for who I really am. I try to appear one way, or refuse to engage in certain conversations or activities for fear of failing, fear of believing that I will reveal my true self that is not acceptable. That I am unlovable. Undesireable. What strong words we often associate with ourselves. We spend so much time running from ourselves and creating images of who we want to be, that we do not know who we really are. And how does our self-acceptance directly correlate with our ability to fully accept those around us? We cannot separate the two. 

I’m amazed how self-sabatoging strategies is so accepted in our society. I read someone’s facebook post which stated her goals for the year 2016.

1. Go to the gym more 2. Be a better wife 3. Serve my husband more 4. Be friendlier

I know what you’re thinking, none of these are innately wrong. But when you really look at each one, it shows a deep dissatisfaction with who they are and the pressure to try to change oneself. Nothing is wrong with striving and trying to improve ourselves or our relationships. But this is where we have it all wrong. Improvement doesn’t come from cranking up the pressure, and stacking on the demands. It leaves us feeling empty inside because deep down we know we are starting as a failure, trying to achieve perfection.

I dare you to discover areas of self-rejection, or mistrust that consume you. These lies affect not only yourself, but your relationships. I commit to continue to find ways I self-sabatoge and self-reject in order to discover who I really am underneath it all. 

In conclusion, God is the one who ultimately defines us. But when we are so consumed by society’s beliefs about ourselves and ways to better ourselves, we cannot adopt God’s acceptance of ourselves. We are slaves to the world’s view of perfection and comparison. How then do we break free without identifying the bondage which we are bound by?

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Hearts full of gratitude

I want to personally shout this story to the hilltops! As many of you so faithfully joined us in a place of confusion, fear and waiting - and prayed fervently, God did not relent and healed my womb and protected our baby Iris Grace. We are overwhelmed by God’s strategic hand and tenderness that held us in His peace throughout this journey and worked miraculously! We credit nothing to anyone accept for Him to receive the glory and thankful for His mercy and grace. I am so unimaginably grateful for all of you who took it as your own interest to pray on behalf of our unborn child. Thank you for you commitment to us and to needs! I cannot express how truely touched I am that God intervened. I do not understand all that occured or the details of some of the midwives mixups with the results in the firstplace, but I am choosing to credit it as a miracle from God. This year has really been such a blessing and an honor to walk along side my wonderful husband who quickly stoops to one knee to pray with me, and comforts me when I am anxious or worried. We have come full circle with church baggage, and I am determined to not let it cast me from the church all together. I realize that deep pain, injustice and abuse has frequently occured in the church - which is horrific to have to speak outloud about it. Yet it also levels the playing ground and refuses to elevate the Christians to an elite status. Why do we resist this identity as sinners SAVED only by His DAILY grace. That is it! We must be saved daily by His grace as our sin still abounds and we need to continually be saved from it. When did BECOMING saved become a one time event where we did not need the cross after we had SAID THE PRAYER!??? This belief is the very belief that keeps us locked in our elite status seperated from who God intended us to be, connected and reunited with the poor and sinners. Not seperated as an elite people group who are SAVED from such dirty sinners. Oh dear Lord, open our eyes to see our daily sin and create a urge that moves inside of us and yearns for your daily SAVING grace.

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God’s promise is for a healthy full-term pregnancy and delivery. Believe Him for it. Stand your ground in faith.

For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. Psalms 139:13

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well. Psalms 139:14

You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.Psalms 139:15 [ see also Jeremiah 1:5, Luke 1:15, and Galatians 1:15]

But You are He who took Me out of the womb. You made Me trust while on My mother’s breasts. I was cast upon You from birth. From My mother’s womb You have been My God. Psalms 22:9-10

Shall I bring to the birth, and not cause to bring forth? saith the LORD: shall I cause to bring forth, and shut the womb? saith thy God. Isaiah 66:9

Fight fear with all you have. Remember, the presence of fear does not mean danger, it just indicates the presence of fear. We, with the help of the devil, make the connection to danger.