A part of me has always been ashamed of my emotions. When you grow up with a heart like mine, your expectations of love and understanding of grace limit your actual communion with it. As a young girl, I let my heart do the leading. I allowed my emotions to control my response to situations – hastily and recklessly. I gave without demanding anything in return, I loved without asking for permission, I forgave without hearing an apology. For years, I treated these attributes as a form of shameful weakness – that is until I rediscovered the character(s) of my God.
Jesus wept. (John 11:35)
Christ was emotional. The fierce and inexhaustible force, which holds the world and carries my heart, wept. He felt pain – just like you and me. Yes, pain, the soul-crushing type which keeps me up at night. God, in His splendor and majesty, chose to strip off His divinity to be human. He did not exhibit pride nor apathy to protect Himself from the possibility of rejection, fear, and sadness. He was not beneath it.
He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrow, and acquainted with grief. (Isaiah 53:3)
Living here on earth enabled Him to personally commune with His people. He embraced human emotions to fully understand and empathize with man – yet He did not sin. He is not detached to my recurring reality, and that is infinitely comforting. We serve a God who is tender and compassionate. We serve a relational God who reaches out and does not wait for me to get myself together and face Him with joy. He humbles Himself and shares in my grief because He Himself faced it.
Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. (Philippians 2:5-7)
The next time you feel that vulnerability is a curse – that it needs to be avoided at all costs – remember the big blessing of emotions: sharing in something bold and beautiful with your Creator. This is to love you, to know you, to be with you. This is the love, which finds you and me, a love fully devoid of selfishness and pride which unfailingly embraces our rebellion. This is love within reach. This is love which waits to be noticed, to be received. This is His love – the emotional kind, the God kind.
By His wounds, we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)
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“God could, had He pleased, have been incarnate in a man of iron nerves, the Stoic sort who lets no sigh escape Him. Of His great humility He chose to be incarnate in a man of delicate sensibilities who wept at the grave of Lazarus and sweated blood in Gethsemane. Otherwise we should have missed the great lesson that it is by his will alone that a man is good or bad, and that feelings are not, in themselves, of any importance. We should also have missed that all important help of knowing that He faced all that the weakest of us face, has shared not only the strength of our nature but every weakness of it except sin. If He had been incarnate in a man of immense natural courage, that would have been for many of us almost the same as His not being incarnate at all.”
C.S. Lewis (Letters of the Faith Through the Seasons)
Hey, you. I blog now over at She Makes Him Known. See you there!
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If you were to tell my younger self that at 24, I would still be single with no manliligaw nor a prospect whatsoever, I’d think you’re crazy.
At 19, I thought I was *gasp* ready for a relationship. How difficult would it be? (At 15, I had a manliligaw who called me every day on our red telephone. I thought this was love – the extent, the brevity of it – because it was all I had, it was all I knew.) I was surrounded by wonderful people, growing my craft, active in ministry, seeking the Lord…but completely misunderstood it. Love meant overanalyzing unanswered chat boxes, rereading unsent letters, listening to sad songs, crying myself to sleep, and a lot of waiting. I suffered these delusions, these cheap imitations of love, because I wanted so badly for it to come, to be it. More than that, my praiseworthy behavior was fueled by the idea that if I kept up this performance, I would deserve it – as if love were to be earned, to be won.
I mean, isn’t that it? Wasn’t this all God wanted from me? But I was cheating my all-knowing, omnipotent King. My pursuit of Christ – may it be intentional or not – was desperately tethered to a lesser pursuit of someone else.
For years, shame followed me and made a home in my heart. I put the idea of a relationship so high up in a pedestal that I found it difficult to be alone. My self-worth heavily depended on the presence of a companion and his ability to return my love. At some point, my weary heart gave up, wrapped itself in apathy disguised as courage – when it is anything but that. I even questioned this God-given desire for a healthy and life-giving relationship. I thought I was meant to be single for the rest of my life yet I know I was born to be somebody’s wife.
During those years of steadying my heart and learning my God, I discovered that life does not begin when I find security in another person; humans err and disappoint. I needed to learn how to be alone. I needed to wade in my solitude and learn the mercy of knowing my parts and reveling in both the beautiful and the messy.
“When I get lonely these days, I think: So be lonely. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.”
Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love
(Romantic) love is only a part of my life, it is not the entirety. I do not live to be loved nor do I love to start living. There will be days when my loneliness gets too loud – that is what it means to be human – but I need to teach my heart to surrender to something greater than myself (and my passing emotions). My life then becomes an act of worship, of eternal abandon to ways that are greater than my own.
Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4) It is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace. (Hebrews 13:9)
My love will come some day but ’til then, Love moves in and through me – and this is the best kind of love I can ever receive.
Hi, you just dont know how much your words inspired me. I am a long time follower and I have read almost all of your writings. I remember I was dealing with a deep heartbreak and the only escape I could go to is your blog. Your words are comforting and moving. I'll definitely miss this! I hope, still, on your next blog, you'll continue writing deeply from the heart. I admire you so much! I've said this multiple times already but Im saying it again... you're my local lang leav :)
Hello, dear friend!
What an absolute honor to be part of your life, even only through this simple yet powerful platform. God really can work so faithfully in and through us. It is so important to be kind! We never know if we are the only living testaments somebody sees. Thank you for staying through the years. Hopefully, you’ll be there too on my next chapter (the new blog will be launching in a few weeks.) Prayers, love, and light your way!
I’m learning that the right person won’t make you want to forfeit your whole being. The right person will make you want to grow into your whole being. The right person makes you want to fill up the space you once apologized for.
I struggled with depression early on in my (short) life.
It never truly manifested itself until I was a naïve teenager - a young girl so adamant, even desperate, for people to like her - in an all-girls Catholic school faced with bullying. On Fridays, I remember going home to my mother and breaking down. These people I hardly know, and knew nothing about me, would not stop. They did not like me for very little things: how I pronounced names, how I loved speaking in English, how I liked to look. We were young, we were discovering ourselves, and somehow, these strangers lashed out their vulnerability, their curiosities on an easy target.
These memories are so foreign to me now but for her, they were alive, they were her every day.
It happened until I was in college. I became more active on the Internet, a platform where it is so easy to breed gratuitous hatred since we are, after all, protected by our anonymity. I received hate mail on a daily basis. I received threats (even a rape threat at the age of 17). People I know would gather to share their thoughts about me and a life I so generously shared on a very public platform.
Trust was then very difficult to give.
From time to time, I shoo away my sadness by downplaying the struggle to simply being (vehemently) emotional. We are all individuals granted the gift to feel, and I had, I have it good, yet there were countless of nights when I was suicidal. I honestly don’t know how my heart could carry so much hatred. I made sense of it by writing so I did, and it displaced my pain - for a while.
Then, I rediscovered Jesus.
This discovery meant understanding His character and reconciling the fact that as much as I am secure in His presence, some days, I still get depressed. Shame still runs after me and wraps its embrace around me like an old friend. Darkness blocks my sight, as I lay my eyes on the broken pieces - unaware of the beauty of the bigger picture. This does not make me a bad Christian. This does not nullify whatever graces He bestows on me every moment of my waking life. This makes me even more human and aware of the reality that this place is not Home.
This enlarges my vision and deepens my longing for eternity. A place where I will be separated from my sadness, where I will no longer wake in the middle of the night anxious about what lies ahead, where tears will no longer touch my face, where my heart will no longer feel heavy. Every time sadness envelops me and makes me lose sight of what is real, what is steadfast, what is everlasting, I weep, I write, I overanalyze yet I tread on, hopeful for a better morning, grounded in the truth and beauty of what still lies ahead.
[He] will wipe away the tears from all faces; He will remove his people’s disgrace from all the earth. (Isaiah 25:8)
For 7 years, I poured my whole heart into this platform.
Writing relieves me from some of my deepest pains. Writing takes my emotions, dives into its mess until calm arises. Writing points to the very Source of my thoughts and my aspirations.
My blog has always been a safe place to document growth. Through countless of nights spent making sense of my reality, my words have even touched strangers from different corners of the universe. It is only right that I honor the memories I created through excerpts from my favorite entries.
1. Deserving Delay
In my waiting, I see people, places, things I can selflessly offer myself to, without compromising my best. I pay attention, I am present, I discover, I give, and these I can only do through glorious solitude. I learn to reevaluate my priorities in every season my prayers remain unanswered.
I do deserve delay.
I deserve delay because I am finite. I deserve delay because I can only see the convenient, the good, when I was promised the life-changing, the best, the eternal. I deserve delay because there is much work needed to be made in me so that when I do receive the gifts that have yet to come, I can claim them without guilt, without doubt, without fear, and without abandonment.
I deserve delay because there is much I have selfishly harbored and kept only to be left with (more) unnecessary suffering. I have to learn to let go of these things I will not learn from. I deserve delay, more than anything, because I do not know what He is doing in my behalf.
I do not know what He is doing with my prayers. I do not know what He is saving me from - a lifetime of mistakes, a self-seeking heart, listless growth. I do not know what He is purifying within me before I can be everything I hope and pray for.
The wait becomes a duty I must fulfill. And in my waiting, I learn, I grow, I become. I trust that is enough.
2. When God Feels Like An Afterthought
There will be a distinct time in your life when you finally come to understand who God is and more importantly, how He loves you.
This does not necessarily mean that you will go through life sure of all things. The rock that you stand from may be firm and unshakeable but there will be storms far too strong for you to stay still and calm.
You can spend years educating yourself with endless theology but still not be transformed. You can hear the deafening and persistent words surrender, salvation, and grace countless of times without understanding how your life is a ferocious, meandering example of it all.
God can be so near yet feel so very distant. He may be your Creator, your Genesis but you can spend years being strangers. The one thing you learn when you do the irreparable decision of knowing Christ - with all your heart and soul - is God can be a blazing fire too bright to go unnoticed but sometimes, He is but an infinitesimal spark that only in our silence and stillness do we see.
3. Big Magic: Lessons on Creativity
I am tired of making excuses to delay creativity. I no longer have the patience to wait for joy, even inspiration, to knock in my heart and surprise me when I know it is within reach.
No amount of complaining and (self) hatred can ever bring me to greater heights. Devotion, time, gratitude…now those things will carry me through sleepless nights and innumerable hours perfecting, molding, honing my lifelong passion.
Do I get impatient? Do I get fearful? Yes, but nowadays, hardly. I battle the paralyzing fear with space for intentional creativity, a grateful heart, and good faith.
I chose this creative life. I chose photography, I chose writing, I chose to document my life in this public platform. And, with everything, I choose the long hours of waiting, I choose the ache in my body after sleepless nights moving, I choose the fleeting moments of discontent and insecurity, I choose the constant criticism, I choose my personal demons, and I choose the paralyzing fear of financial instability. I choose it all because there is nothing else in this earthly world that can bring as much joy to my life than the very act of creating.
4. Forgive me, I am only human.
Forgive me, for bearing all my heart’s scars from lost wars, for romanticizing pain until it envelops me, making me lose sight of Your bloodied hands, Your tattered ribs, while you gasp for oxygen, for light, and for Purpose.
Forgive me, for taking love that isn’t mine to keep, reaching out for hands to hold and hearts to fill, while you relentlessly offer Yourself to me day by day while I search for a home I could only find in Your arms.
Forgive me, for my emotions which change like the seasons, one day passionately in pursuit of You and the next weary of what You can give me, while Your love for me courses through the ocean of time - steadfast and insurmountable.
5. Being Intentional in A “Busy” Culture
Lately, I have been living my life quietly yet well. Some days, I am so frustrated because I am so used to a life that calls for so much attention - my life revolved around it for years. Now, I can truthfully say that I am incredibly content and happy with where I am.
When I take the time to actually respond to messages, to reach out, show up, and just simply be present, I realize how people really need me. When I make that extra effort - that really isn’t difficult at all - I sustain the relationships I have with the people I love. This is how people stay.
One’s presence, one’s availability is the heart of every relationship. You sustain it by initiating, by reaching out, by exerting effort, by being present.
Nowadays, I like the peace, I like the life of repetition because this seemingly unremarkable yet praiseworthy life allows me to be available. There may be a bigger promise out there for me but now, this is where I am, and this is what I am called to do. I am slowly, clumsily learning what it means to live life well, which is greater than success I am capable of achieving in this lifetime.
6. Please Don’t Give Me Love
Please don’t give me love when the kind of love I desire is something I want to possess out of fear - fear that nothing better will come, fear that it will end up just like the others I have received, and fear that I deserve to settle. Please remind me that the kind of love I should have is love that is supposed to be desired, rightly, out of faith - faith in Your perfect timing, faith in Your faithfulness, faith in knowing that You know what is best for me, which I do not see.
7. Blogging in 2015: Lonely, Irrelevant, and Uninspired
I have a couple of drafts I’ve been working on for the past year(s) that I’ve completely neglected. It may be my fleeting interest, my sparse (even nonexistent) emotions, my lack of passion, my post (full-time) work exhaustion or all of the aforementioned.
I’ve spent a copious amount of time staring at my screen, purging words and ideas that aren’t there in the first place, and when they are, this voice inside my head stops me from continuing because why should I? No one even reads (my) blog(s) anymore.
It was there as I penned down my late-night heartbreak over a clumsy boy thus cleansing me of unforgiveness and anger. It was there whilst I tethered word after holy word upon rediscovering Jesus Christ, my everything. It was there as I screamed and cried of joy upon getting my very first A, my entire college life, from my year-long thesis.
My blog was, is my constant, and knowing it is for other people too, means the world to me.
8. A Prayer
You are restless, exhausted, yet hopeful. For a future that blossoms with infinite possibilities. It may be too tiresome, but you were made to dream. Every aching atom in your fragile body cries out for a promise that is solely yours.
Please forgive yourself.
There are countless of days when you spend too much time escaping the now, breathlessly racing towards the future, forgetting to take in this beautiful mess, the glorious chaos. You pass by life unaware of the tiny inconveniences that make up your story. It may all seem like random accidents but there is a relentless Love so selfless, that brings all - ugly, crazy, beautiful - things together for your good.
Wait it out.
Your timeline is not someone else’s. Please have patience in your weary, stubborn heart. Breathe and take it all in. Take all the time you need to grow. You are greater than you believe.
9. The Power of A Quiet Testimony
Some people were called to a life of noble struggle that takes losing all things to discover that God is everything. Others were born into Christianity but it takes years of endless, brain wracking theology and practice to transform his or her life.
A story of one man’s struggle may end up being the subject of history books while my quiet work in progress may only resonate with a single person in a room full of people. And, I am finally okay with that.
Our journeys are so diverse yet the path to the pursuit of Goodness and Light is something we all end up chasing. His power is equal in our weakness yet my God is the God of glorious difference.
10. Things I’m Still Learning at 23
There is much I desire to do.There is a spirited vision so alive in me; 24 hours is simply not enough to course me through this path. The journey is long, intimidating, tedious yet (sometimes) dull, but it is my noble duty to discover and keep. My timeline will always be my own; I claim my detours, my mistakes, and my breakthroughs. Progress is progress no matter how small it may be.
Patience is my ally, it will constantly keep me grounded when I choose to stray, when I am too apathetic to try again, and when I can no longer see purpose. The things I love may bring me to dark, strange places; may I have enough courage to follow. I know for certain that there is light in the end.
Ultimately, the tug of what I (choose to) love and offer myself to, brings me closer to Christ. I may go towards different directions - I still know nothing about - but His faithfulness promises for all roads to always lead to Him.
You wore thrifted clothing from the cinema-turned-ukay near home, and on some days, you were clad in your Lola’s printed hand-me-downs. You had very few friends including your best friend since you were in pre-school; she made sense of you when you couldn’t. Your mother loves you very much but you were always too preoccupied - with academics, by your then meager understanding of love, with a new community - to let her in. The university library was your home. You loved your alone, it was, and it still is, beautiful. You didn’t know how to speak to boys; you never did until your last year in college. Gentle reminder: Do not enroll your daughter(s) in an all-girls-school. Many did not like you, and Public Service Announcement: you will actually live through that recurring reality. You tried so hard to be unlike yourself, it took a while to piece you back together.
You thrived on attention, much was given, but you were always searching for purpose. You tethered words together at night to keep yourself sane. You remembered spaces and faces, taking your trustworthy point-and-shoot everywhere you went. You were filled with so much love, most days you never really knew what to do with it. You loved Jesus, but only when it was convenient. He was so patient that He took His time with you; He waited to be wanted. That makes your story even more compelling.
That was 7 years ago.
You are now 23, working a 9-hour job in entertainment, trying to make sense of adulthood whilst making sporadic bank visits, attending conferences and workshops, travelling to unfamiliar places, and more things you never thought you were capable of. You’ve discovered a lot of good things that make you happy: devouring one graphic novel after the other, writing beauty reviews while listening to Dustin O’ Halloran, riding the train at night, attending Church on the weekends, and constantly pursuing Christ. A lot has changed but He remains steadfast. He persists to change you, exhausting everything within you so unlike Himself. You still have a difficult time communing with people but when you take the time to open your heart to others, you have some of the best days of your life. You still haven’t met your husband but it doesn’t bother you anymore. The older you get, the more you realize that solitude - fully embraced and accepted - is as good as any other kind of companionship.
We have been through much together. Who knew that creating a blog - a young girl’s way of handling grief (publicly) - would instantaneously change your life? You were there when I mustered to declare my first (real) prayer - out of surrender, wonder, and affection. You were there when I was battling against depression; I have forgiven myself for feeling things too deeply. You were there celebrating every little miracle that came my way - this is all but grace.
I part with you knowing this chapter of my life is ending: 7 long, curious years traversing through life, documented in this safe space. Thank you for being a persistent reminder of growth only possible through a relentless hunger for wisdom and guided humility. Your starry-eyed, wonder-filled disposition has allowed you to grab opportunities I only ever dreamt of. Thank you for dreaming boldly for both of us. You have conquered the seemingly impossible through Heaven’s mighty, helping hand. You have guided me through life. You were, you are, and you will always be a friend.
Love always,
Elisa
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If you have fond memories, short stories you would like to share on how you discovered thunderpopcola, how it became a part of your life too, please don’t hesitate to email me at: [email protected] or send me a an ask. Thank you, dearest friends. The new blog will be launched on April. Here’s to better, brighter days!
I think there is a certain age, for women, when you become fearless. It may be a different age for every woman, I don’t know. It’s not that you stop fearing things: I’m still afraid of heights, for example. Or rather, of falling — heights aren’t the problem. But you stop fearing life itself. It’s when you become fearless in that way that you decide to live. Perhaps it’s when you come to the realization that the point of life isn’t to be rich, or secure, or even to be loved — to be any of the things that people usually think is the point. The point of life is to live as deeply as possible, to experience fully. And that can be done in so many ways.
What nobody tells people who are beginners, and I really wish someone had told this to me, is that all of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple of years you make stuff, and it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase. They quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this.
Most of my photos are grounded in people, I look for the unguarded moment, the essential soul peeking out experience etched on a person’s face.
(Steve McCurry)
As a portrait photographer exposed to the the deviously flawless world of beauty and fashion (photography) so early on in my life, the fear of imperfect photographs has always limited my craft. For a very long time, I restricted my perception of beauty to the impeccable and the grandiose. I was unable to compromise my aesthetics; anything that did not meet a socially acceptable standard of beauty - the filthy, the unfamiliar - was something I veered away from. Thankfully, growth is always possible.
It takes courage to explore your craft, to know your style, be comfortable with it, yet still dive into a deep abyss of the unknown, which may not merit approval from your peers, and even yourself. It takes courage to feed on discontent but ultimately, be open to the possibility of change.
Taking photographs of strangers has always interested me but it is only at this point when I intentionally make space to immerse myself in everyday encounters. I have been opening my eyes - as if for the first time - to the world and really understanding and communing with the human condition. This is the beauty of portraiture. It elevates a soul, plunges in its reality without the need for words. It sees struggle, embraces it, and tethers you to another.
I wish I could stay 23 because this time, I actually (try to) make good choices.
23 is an age of perfectly balanced careless abandon and adventure, righteous selfishness and responsibility, forgivable youth and self-limitation. It is all sorts of (crazy) wonderful and exhilarating. Do not be deceived. I still am much weak, fragile, and detestable things I wish I weren’t, yet I am comforted by the fact that I have my entire life to become a person I could be proud of.
The past year has led me to truly grow spiritually and emotionally. I have had so much breakthroughs that has caused a quiet, all-encompassing revolution in my heart. I can only pray that these things I have learned through the Lord’s constant wisdom and guidance - an emptying of myself, an overflow of Him - can be a source of light to you, friend.
1. Try not to plead for a future you have not yet earned.
My idleness and my need for greatness allows me to evaluate my life again and again. I panic and predict a future I have yet to live and arrive at. It wasn’t really as bad as before. There were familiar, somber days when I would find myself spontaneously breaking down - I actually thought I was clinically depressed. I was consumed by fear; there were too much choices, and the uncertainty led me to places I promised I would not stay. Thankfully, through time, and with grace in my heart, I have arrived at a place in my life where I am more certain about things - one being Christ.
Read: When You Don’t Live Up to Your Expectations
There is much I desire to do. There is a spirited vision so alive in me; 24 hours is simply not enough to course me through this path. The journey is long, intimidating, tedious yet (sometimes) dull, but it is my noble duty to discover and keep. My timeline will always be my own; I claim my detours, my mistakes, and my breakthroughs. Progress is progress no matter how small it may be.
Patience is my ally, it will constantly keep me grounded when I choose to stray, when I am too apathetic to try again, and when I can no longer see purpose. The things I love may bring me to dark, strange places; may I have enough courage to follow. I know for certain that there is light in the end.
Ultimately, the tug of what I (choose to) love and offer myself to, brings me closer to Christ. I may go towards different directions - I still know nothing about - but His faithfulness promises for all roads to always lead to Him.
2. Stop romanticizing things that hurt.
For years, my blog has been fueled by my reckless, ephemeral emotions - it is alive because of it. I selfishly embraced the havoc, the hurt, the mess and created tender, sad things to make the past tangible, to make my hurt mine, and to not be forgotten. Well, through time, I discovered that the more I dwelt in the comfortable ache, the more I resisted the option of possible, saving joy.
On my 23rd year, I made the (unconscious) choice to stop writing about the 'beauty' of my sadness. I think it is one of the bravest things I have done for myself. I realize that art need not be tragic. I do not make my, nor anyone else’s pain invaild; do honor your memories, but don't stay there for too long. I still am a shamelessly emotional writer but I am learning that I can actually draw so much from my joy, my strength, and my peace.
Moreover, I always have the choice to dwell on my pain or I can redirect my thoughts towards praiseworthy things. When I take a moment to step away from my sadness, I see how much people really need me. Indeed, the sea is my sadness, and He taught me how to swim.
3. Intentionally make space (and time) for what you love.
I almost gave up on blogging a year ago. I was tired, lusterless, and uninspired. My exhaustion led me to believe that I had to give up some things in my life because they did not seem to produce any results.
Read: Blogging in 2015: Lonely, Irrelevant, and Uninspired
I constantly questioned my ability to create. I could no longer churn out organic content. I found myself losing interest in the things I love. For a year or so, my perception of my present made me lose sight of the treasures the Creator faultlessly put inside of me. Things then changed.
I learned so late that I can actually have a full-time job and still be passionate about other things...and intentionally make time for it. Work will always tire me but it is work - it is never easy. Make time for the things you love, and you will find that the weight of every day becomes lighter.
During the start of this year, I read a life-changing book, entitled Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Gilbert. It thoroughly discusses the essence of creating; for as long as we are alive, our human selves will need and aspire to create - with the presence or absence of results.
Read: Big Magic: Lessons on Creativity
4. Your (pursuit of) happiness is closer than you think.
I lost more than ten pounds during my first few months of active physical training. I went to the gym every single weekday after work. Every (real, legitimate, and physical) ache in my body was worth it because my faith in myself was slowly transforming. I could lift heavy baggage, I could climb flights of stairs without stopping, I confidently started wearing sleeveless tops, I even bought my first two-piece swimsuit. Of course, the process became much easier having a good pair of running shoes like these ones from Asics. *wink*
I also started writing on my journal again. I jot down Bible verses from my devotional time, I record quotes from books and my social media platforms, I write letters to Jesus (and even to my future husband), and I document my day to day on paper. I even purchased a grateful journal to constantly remind me of His inexorable faithfulness.
I took small, significant steps towards my happiness, and it was through discipline that I gained a greater sense of self and wholeness.
5. I deserve delay.
Unanswered prayers do not always mean a redirection. I finally understand that if there are good, selfless desires in my heart that remain unanswered, it means that there are other things that still need my full attention. My human desires need to be purified again and again before my hands are prepared to receive them. I deserve delay, no matter how long the wait, because I need to prepare myself for the best, not only the good.
Read: Deserving Delay
6. Apologize.
My relationships would flourish more if I constantly teach myself to apologize. Humbly and respectfully submitting myself to those around me - family, friends, superiors, colleagues - means thinking less of myself and living beyond the individual self. I do not always have to be right. I do not always have to win. My relationships are more important than my pride.
7. Grow comfortable in the grace you have been given.
There is grace for my unbelieving heart. There is grace for the echoing shame. There is grace for forgotten convictions. There is grace for faithlessness. There is grace for misplaced affections. There is grace for unforgiveness.
Grace is inexorable. With grace permeating through my veins, I course through every little (dark, painful, sad) thing, and I know I will be rewarded with something infinitely greater than myself.
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This post is inspired by Todd LaBerge’s similar series.
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