Day 36: Something that stresses you out.

I'm a planner.  Deep down.  Through and through.

I've always prided myself on how organized I've kept life.  Deadlines through school carefully managed and scheduled.  Specific plans detailed through even more detailed lists. 

I was not one of those people who forgot something important.  My brain just didn't operate on that wavelength.

Somewhere post-college I lost my edge--in a healthy way, I'm sure.  And I settled into a less rigid, yet still scheduled life.

You know how when you work with the same thing over and over again you sort of desensitize yourself to it?  That time away can make some things (that existed before) readily apparent?

Coming back from a short Spring Break vacation was slightly overwhelming in that regard.  I can't keep everything straight.  And it seems like such a big project to organize that I'm not even sure where to start.

Photo credit: Secrets to Ultimate Living Blog

It occurred to me this week that my life feels chaotically unorganized right now.  I almost missed a mortgage payment the other month.  I can't remember the last time I checked my car's oil or went to the dentist.  I can't keep track of most of the deadlines at work--so I constantly feel unprepared with not enough time to do it all.

I'm feeling stretched thin.  Struggling to keep it all together.

And I can't help but wonder, if an organized person like me feels like this, how do the rest of people do it??!

Day 35: Your first love.

If you want a truly honest answer, my first love was my daddy.

If you're looking for the cliche "first love" as in "what boy did I first love", then you're going to be waiting for a while.  I've liked lots of guys over the years.  And I've insisted that I loved some of them at the time.  But as I look back, I can see that it wasn't true, not because I was too young, but because I didn't fully understand what real love meant.  I imagine that the first guy that I will truly love (aside from family) will be the man I marry.

Love is huge.  Self sacrificial.  Honest.  Pure.  Caring.  Patient.  Not for the faint of heart.  Love is not a passive thing.

Day 34: A picture of an accomplishment.

In my (relatively) short life I feel like I have accomplished much.  It's a combination of being blessed with opportunities and motivated enough to see them through.

When you ask me what my biggest accomplishment is though, my marathon last Fall is the first thing that comes to mind.

I trained for a year.  Running 3-4 times a week, every week, for an entire year to keep in shape.  Plus a heightened training plan the last 3 months.  I spent hours each week, and then I spent hours on the weekends with my long runs (which, at times, took upward of 4-5 hours to complete).  I found an inner strength during the actual race--when I thought I had nothing left, but was able to tap into something deeper than myself.  And I succeeded.  I finished.  I hurt dearly after, but the sweetness of completion made it all worth it.

I learned a lot of things about myself, who I am, where I'm going, what I love to do.  I'm proud that I finished, and just crazy enough to run another one someday.

Responsibility

People crave responsibility because responsibility infers trust.  If you trust me, you'll most likely give me more responsibilities.  I don't know about you, but I long to be trusted.  And in turn, to prove worthy of that trust.  The words "don't worry, I trust you..." are powerful.

Even small responsibilities carry a different meaning than the regular.  You hold your head higher, you care more, you feel valued.  The stakes are higher too.

I have been entrusted with a group of Freshman girls that would blow you away.  They're wise, caring, compassionate, intelligent women who love the Lord with all their hearts.  I am beyond blessed to engage and grow with them during this season.  They're absolutely fabulous girls that I wouldn't trade for anything.

With bigger responsibilities come higher standards.  I'm not perfect, but I'm called to lead by example.  I am influential.  And I am continually challenged.  This season is sharpening me.  Once, twice, three times over the whetstone.  I value the responsibility; I can see its importance.  And the sweetness of being trusted with much washes over me.

I love where I'm at.  I love serving where I'm at.  I love my life.

Be Bold.

Sometimes I know exactly what I want to say and have absolutely no idea how to say it.  At the exact same time.

My journey to and from Mexico came to a close Saturday morning.  Rather abruptly.  Transitioning away from the"large-group mentality" I'd been forced into for the last week into a solitary existence was more difficult than I thought it would be.  After such a transformational week, all I wanted was more.  More time with unbelievable students and leaders, more growth, more freedom, more redemption, more service, more manual labor.  More of all the ingredients that filled me to overflowing and then poured out everywhere.  I'd even take more travel time in our tiny bus for the adventure to continue.

God's voice frequently asks me to do things I would otherwise probably not do.  In fact, that's usually how I know it's God.  When I'm asked to leap somewhere that makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable, God is usually trying to stretch me.  I'm getting better and better at just being obedient.  This week I was challenged to face some fears.  I felt a clear call to "be bold and not be afraid" on this trip.  The practicality of this challenge almost blew me away.  If I was asked to do something, regardless of personal preference, I would do it.

I got several opportunities. 

The first one included my first venture onto a roof.  In fact, I ended up spending more time working on the roof than working on the ground.  I laid shingles for days.  On my team's house, and then on the others team's houses.  Had I let my fear of falling off the roof keep me from climbing up anyway, I would never have had the opportunity to learn how to shingle the roof, and in turn, would never have had the opportunity to lead a team that helped shingle the other two houses once ours was done.  It was a huge blessing to be able to help the others.  It was a huge personal achievement to face this fear.  It was exhilarating to stand on the roof and see out over everything.

That's me in the teal shirt, walking around like a roofing pro.

My other broken fear is a little more personal.  At some point in Jr High, an out-loud prayer of mine was mocked by a peer.  From that point until now, fear and anxiety cloud all instances that require me to pray aloud.  Sometimes it was debilitating, sometimes I just felt ashamed that I couldn't do it.  I've been challenged to do a lot more of this recently, but the level of fear never changed.  So when I was spontaneously asked to pray to close a leader meeting one night, I took a big gulp and just jumped in (and actually surprised a fellow leader who knew of my fear and had never heard me pray aloud).  I was still nervous during it, but was proud of my accomplishment regardless.  A few days later, impromptu again, I was asked to bless breakfast for the large group.  Without missing a beat, I did it.  And for the first time in nearly 10 years, I prayed aloud without fear OR anxiety.  It was in that moment that I received freedom from the lie--that praying aloud has to be filled with anxiousness.  I still get anxious when I pray, but the difference now is that I can choose to reject that anxiety--the lie the Devil tries to get me to believe--because I know better.  I've tasted freedom.  I no longer have to live with the taste of sour grapes.

I'm a fearful person by nature, but what I didn't realize was the impact that my fear would have on me.  How they held me back.  How the simple act of stepping out and being bold freed me from unnecessary and somewhat silly fears.  How the week of being daring ushered in such transformational growth and healing in some pretty deep places.  And lastly, how blessed I would feel when my choice to obey coincided with God's plan and resulted in something even better than I could have imagined. 

God gave me a couple words only days before we left.  Guess what the first one was.  FREEDOM.

Blessed, blessed freedom--from the bondage of lies.

Day 33: What’s in your purse/wallet?

Here's a gander into all the lovely things I feel fit to carry around with me daily.

(Sorry for the terrible picture quality!) Obviously the necessities that I always end up kicking myself about if they're missing or empty: Aquaphor (good for almost anything--dry skin, chapped lips, healing blisters, etc.), Burts Bees chapstick (LOVE this stuff), a really old travel Aleve container (where I effectively stash tylenol, aleve, or any other kind of medication I might need), a tinted lip gloss, a small nail file, a tiny Altoids container (that I refill from larger tins periodically), elastic hair ties, bobby pins, other hair clips, safety pins (you seriously never know when you're going to need one of these), and my awful Best Western hotel nametag (that is one good for only one thing, otherwise I would have trashed it long ago: the magnet on the back keeps all the bobby pins, safety pins, and hairclips in one place, and easy to grab quickly).

Then of course you have my wallet (red), my checkbook, my car/house/work keys, some mint tea packets ('cause I'm picky about the teas I like), at least two pens, and my iPhone (not pictured, because I was using it for these pictures, naturally).

Inside my wallet is a much-too-large assortment of gift cards (probably at least 10), gift certificates, my library card (LOVE the public library!), cash (only sometimes and never more than a couple dollars), my debit/credit cards, my drivers license (thank goodness for good DMV pictures!), and an absurd amount of receipts (that I hold onto until I get a chance to copy them into my checkbook register).

Trilling, right?  I thought so.

Day 32: A picture of your house.

I love this house.  It's a huge challenge, but it's also a huge blessing.

It didn't exactly fit into my "master plan", but then again, a lot of things seem to be happening out of order in my life.  I guess I should reorder things.

Want a virtual tour of the inside of my home?

I love that I live walking distance from my work and from my church.  I love that my house is old (built in 1920) and has that old-house character.  I love my tree-lined street.  I love my neighborhood.