A Vow to Forgive.

Patrick rolled my foot up in the car window last night. I wish I was kidding but this is a REAL story, no parts are fabricated for dramatic effect. The truth is dramatic enough.

So we were driving home from dinner and in typical Nicole fashion I made a joke about something really weird. The joke was a bit dramatic and involved a lot of hand and body movements and at one point I needed to put half of my foot out the window. Just to clarify Patrick was driving so we were being super safe. Back to the story, as I'm making the joke Patrick decides, at that exact moment, that we should roll up the windows and Whoopsie Daisy, my foot gets stuck in the window. 

I immediately yell and for maybe 5 seconds neither one of us really knows what's happening and when we realize what's going on we're both too frazzled to resolve it. I'm yelling, Patrick is trying to drive and roll down the window and it takes about 15 or so seconds before my foot is free and the pandemonium has ceased. 

Once my foot is out I become overcome with a fit of laughter. I sat there and laughed and laughed until I was snorting and crying. The whole thing was just so outrageous to me that I couldn't stop laughing over it. Patrick is beyond concerned at this point because he can't determine whether or not I'm in pain. Through my laughter I can hear him asking "Babe, are you okay? I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" and I want to answer him but my laughter just won't stop. 

Eventually, the laughter begins to wear off and the pain starts to set in. The top of my foot is throbbing and though it wasn't a sharp sensation, it's a constant and forceful pain. As the fullness of the pain begins to set in so does my annoyance and anger. I go from thinking that it's the funniest random happenstance ever, to being completely livid and almost feeling like it was intentional.

"I can't believe you did that," I said, "How did that even happen? Are you going to apologize?" I'm so upset at this point that I'm being completely irrational and even though I know that he has already apologized, I'm insisting that he do it again. Poor Patrick is feeling his own internal anguish over the situation and externally he's being bombarded with my cold shoulders and sharp words. To be completely honest, even though the situation is now completely resolved and I've apologized for being crazy, I was kind of upset about it and upset with him until this morning which led to me writing this post. 

I'm typically a very forgiving and gracious person. Throughout our relationship Patrick and I have, of course, had times where we've needed to be forgiving to one another. Thankfully, we both do our best to not hold grudges and to always talk things out instead of harboring feelings of resentment. Last night was completely out of character for me. Even though I had multiple opportunities to move on and let it go and enjoy the rest of our evening together, I made the conscious decision to stay upset with him. 

Today, I feel really convicted about the whole thing. As Patrick and I prepare to spend the rest of our lives together, I want forgiveness to be the norm for our family not guilt trips and the inability to accept an apology. I texted Patrick this morning apologizing for my behavior last night and in typical Patrick fashion he sent me the sweetest text back. Saying that he'll always do his best to forgive me when I apologize and give me grace when I'm being a brat. 

When I initially started writing this post I wrote that 'no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't forgive Patrick," but the truth is that I absolutely could. That distinction, between the words 'couldn't' and 'wouldn't,' is what provided me with the most valuable lesson. Forgiveness is often a choice that one has to make. One that goes against the feelings that are running rampant through our bodies and goes against our natural inclination.

It's a choice that says, yes the pain of the moment may be constant, may be sharp, but the life that comes from embracing forgiveness is a life of freedom. Patrick and I are going to be starting our premarital counseling soon and I imagine that one of the things that they're going to emphasize to us is the importance of forgiveness. The importance of letting things go, accepting when something is an accident and giving yourself the permission to move on.

I want forgiveness and grace to be the theme of my life with Patrick. I want to reflect the forgiveness that Christ has extended and continues to extend to us each day and I want it to echo throughout our relationship. So I vow to forgive Patrick. I vow to forgive him today and tomorrow and everyday that follows for the rest of our lives. I vow to forgive him for the small and petty things, the things that are done on accident but still hurt. So that when the big things come, as I know they will, forgiveness will be my mode of operation and a relationship that continues to flourish and thrive will be the outcome. 

Anger and joy.

You guys, lately I've been doing a bit of swearing in my head. Maybe as a Christian I shouldn't say that I swear in my mind but in the words of the Stranger Things gang 'Friends don't lie," so there's that. Out loud I say things like "F word" or "Darn it" but in my head, I'm cussing like a sailor and rolling my eyes so hard that they're one frustrating moment away from rolling right out of my face.

Sometimes I just feel like a pot, two seconds away from boiling over. On the outside I'm cool, calm and collected but on the inside I'm bouncing around like a ball in a pinball machine. I took an inventory of those feelings recently; I looked at how frequently they occur and what typically precedes them and what I discovered is something pretty interesting. 

I found out that I'm filled with anger. Real, tangible anger. Anger that fills my mind and though I don't let it flood out, because I'm trying to watch what I say, is roaring inside of me like a monster in a cage.

I feel it every single day. Anger towards people, towards systems, towards mistakes, friends, pain and so many other things. An anger that just boils and boils, never losing steam. I thought it was just simple annoyance or frustration but now I realize that instead it's complex rage. 

And am I wrong for constantly feeling a little upset? I mean, there are so many things in this world to be angry about. A shallow culture that is obsessed with image and status runs parallel with a world that is crippling under the weight of injustice and unequal distribution of wealth. Everyday someone new, someone with status and power, is accused of sexual assault and harassment; and every 10 seconds someone in our world dies from hunger related causes. 

There's a lot to be angry about. 

I was recently reading past journal entries and I came across a mantra that I told myself I was going to start saying every morning and it said 'I will choose joy and give grace." I will CHOOSE joy and GIVE grace, what a powerful statement.

I think that if you're paying attention, at all, there's a lot to be enraged about. Anger is easy, it's a comfortable seat that we can just slide in to and make ourselves at home. It's a place where we can constantly get fuel for our fire, each injustice, frustration and wrong aspect of our world serving as kindling and lighter fluid. 

Choosing joy, that's a bit more difficult. It's a decision that we make where we say that despite the turmoil and infuriating things I see around me, I will not be swept up in the mess. I will be in the world but not of the world. I will choose joy. 

I will choose joy because anger is too heavy of a burden to bear. I will choose joy because joy is what clears my mind to be able to make a difference in all of the areas of life that are so cracked and bruised. I will choose joy because the bible says in Nehemiah that "The joy of the Lord is your strength." 

Anger makes you weak. Anger leaves you bitter and confused and disoriented. Anger makes you lash out and scream swear words from the corners of your mind, while wearing a fake smile on your lips. I do think that there are moments to be angry and things worth being angry about but I don't think that anger is a place that you should unpack and decide to live. 

So I'm moving out. 

I'm gathering my things, calling a cab and only looking forward as we pull away. I want control over the things that I set my mind on and that starts with choosing to meditate on the things that bring me peace. I don't think that there will ever be a time in my life where I'm not moved and upset by things going on in this world but I want the desire for peace to be what fuels me.

I don't want my home to be anger. I want my home to be joy so that's what I'm choosing. 

Xoxo,

N. 

Pause.Refresh.Restart.

The other night, for the first time in a long time, I crashed. I was overwhelmed, exhausted and feeling inadequate. I sat in my car with Patrick and I just cried and talked, and he just listened. I knew that everything was okay and that I was just having a moment but more than anything I knew that I wasn't investing enough time in self care. 

Lately, with the start of a new job and our church moving buildings, I've been doing a lot of moving and not a lot of resting. I've been trying so hard to surpass expectations and requirements that I've started to strive again. I think it's so healthy to pursue excellence but my recent pursuits have been aimed on striving for perfection and as always, it's an exhausting, impossible and unfulfilling race. 

So for September, for the entire month, I'm taking a step back. A step back from things, that I enjoy, but tend to drain me instead of fuel me. It's time for me to take a much needed pause and here's how that will play out in my life. For the next 30 days I'm cutting all added sugar from my diet, only going on social media to post my blog or post for the church and giving up alcohol. 

Those are all pretty unrelated things, I know, but they all support a common goal. I want to fill this month with conscious decision after conscious decision to go without. I want to say no to a few things so that I have the mental, physical and emotional space to say yes to the things that really matter to me. 

Luke 5:16 says that "Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer."  I am trying, earnestly, to live a life that is steadfast and set on the pursuit of Jesus and when I feel hazy and weighed down and lost, it's by emulating his life that I find redirection.

So consider September my month of withdraw. Withdrawing from sugar, social media and alcohol so that I can draw closer to Jesus, better health and a stronger sense of self. I'm excited to see how a body not clogged by sugar and alcohol and a mind not filled with the filth of social media will play out in my life. Can't wait to tell you how week 1 goes, until next time friends! 

"It is only in Solitude that I ever find my own core." - Anne Morrow Lindbergh. 

Big God, little me.

Are you familiar with the story of Moses? You may not have physically read it yourself but I'm sure you've heard the story. Prince of Egypt, anyone? The story is about an Israelite who is raised as an Egyptian and eventually becomes the person who, with God's instruction, leads the Israelites out of bondage. 

It's a story in history that I've known my entire life. I've read about how the children of Israel wandered through the desert for 40 years on a trip that should have taken them 40 days. I've laughed at their unbelief and been amazed at the accounts of how they repeatedly doubted God even after all of the miracles that he orchestrated for them. 

Just in case you forgot or are unfamiliar, let me outline a few of the miracles; he parted the red sea and allowed them to walk on dry land, rained down manna from heaven for them to eat and gave them water from a random rock in the desert. Even after all of the miraculous signs and wonders the moment something scary started to happen, they doubted God. 

I've found, recently, that as much as I'd like to think that I am filled with unwavering, BIG faith I am exactly like the Israelites. I can be easily unnerved by tragedy or difficult situations. I've often found myself looking uncertainty in the face and instead of growling back like a fierce lion I turn and run into the arms of stress.

Sometimes when I stand at the base of a mountain in my way I can be forgetful of the fact that it's not the first of it's kind to interrupt my regularly scheduled programming. 

I, just like the Israelites in the Bible, often walk confidently by sight and timidly by faith. I lean on my own understanding more than the foresight of Christ and when I can't figure it all out I'm discouraged instead of encouraged that God will make a way. 

Little me often forgets how capital 'B' Big my God is. 

I heard the song Shadow Step by Hillsong United for the first time yesterday while sitting in a coffee shop. The first verse starts with these words, " Light up the way of your heart. Move me like you do the mountains. Move me like you do the wind and I'll chase your voice through the dark." 

The story of the Isrealites and the last few weeks of my, I guess you could say rocky faith journey, kind of all came to a head as I was overwhelmed with the lyrics of this song. If I've learned anything from life recently, it's that God isn't asking us to overcome the darkness in rough situations but rather to follow his voice through it.

God isn't asking us to figure out what the next step will be but rather to persevere in our faith and believe that where he leads us he will also provide grace enough to sustain us. 

If I had five blogs I still wouldn't have enough bandwidth or pages or even words to fully share the details of all of the humanly impossible situations in my life becoming a possibility all because of Christ. I'm forgetful, at times lacking of faith and consumed with pride but even in the midst of it all God is still faithful, he's still good and he's never left me high and dry.

I am humbled by the reality of my smallness and comforted by the truth of how Big our God is.

"God is good...not because he causes things that seem or feel "good" to happen in our lives, but because in the midst of the storm, God comes closer to us than the storm could ever be."  Charles Spurgeon. 

Leotards, body image and me.

"Okay Nikki, go grab a leotard and a pair of tights, put them on in the dressing room and meet us in rehearsal room 1."

It was my first day of dance class and very quickly my excitement turned into dread.

"I'm supposed to just wear this, in front of everyone," I thought to myself as I picked up the black leotard and the darkest pair of tights I could find and headed in to the dressing room.

Growing up, I never felt comfortable in my own skin. I wanted to be taller, have straight hair, have a smaller waist and didn't want to be the biggest girl in a leotard in a room filled with ballet dancers.

I started taking dance classes because it was something I had always wanted to do. My best friend was a dancer and if I started taking classes we would be able to do it together. I never really thought about how it would make me feel about my body. Where it should have made me feel strong and capable, it instead led me to thinking that I was the DUFD of the group...the designated, ugly, fat, dancer.

The mind is a powerful place. It can grab hold of your attention, warp your reality and make you to believe that this flesh that you live in, is not just your home but also your worth. That the number on the scale and the size on the dress determines how good you are and how much value you add to the world.

Instead of basking in the joy of being a dancer, I often drowned in the weight of not feeling like I leveled up. Like the dance room was a place I never belonged and dancer was a title that was never meant for me.

Have you ever felt like that? Like your looks disqualified you from fitting in or doing something that you really loved?  A feeling that your mind grabs hold of and instead of replacing it with truth, enforces the lies and cements them as facts.

I haven't taken a dance class in over 5 years but my mind is still often visited by the lies. The lies that I'm not skinny enough, that my body doesn't fit the mold, that I need to work harder and eat less. That I'll never measure up and who I am will never compare to our world's standard of beauty.

The beauty of it all, something that it took me years to learn, is that the world does not determine my worth or what makes me beautiful. The bible says in Psalms 139:14  "I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works."

I am fearfully and wonderfully made. When the truth of that statement grabbed a hold of my soul it changed the course of my thoughts. I'm not a dress size or a number on the scale. I'm an educator, a daughter, a writer, a singer, a sister, an aunt and most importantly a fearfully and wonderfully made child of God.

My body is not something that I work against anymore but rather something that I work with. The food I eat is fuel for me to be able to have the energy to impact the lives of student, pour into friendships and relationships and to live a vibrant, Christ focused and joy filled life.

My body doesn't define me. It doesn't determine my worth or the value that I bring to this world and your body doesn't determine your value either. Marvelous are the works of God, every single one of them and that my friend, is truth.

"I will shed all of this skin, down to the very bone beneath it, if that's what it will take for you to come to the realization that appearance is not what makes a human beautiful."