thankful on a thursday—unzipped

If you asked me about the past three years I would tell you about pain, process, healing and redemption. I would show you my kitchen table, and the two chairs that sit there. I would tell you about gut wrenching sobs, tears spilling onto my lap, cheeks that burned with shame and embarrassment, and the exhaustion that would set in night after night. I would tell you about my roommate, a woman with more patience and the incredible gift of walking alongside you RIGHT, EXACTLY where you are without fear or judgment. I would tell you about anger, fear, resentment and jealousy. I would unzip the center of my chest and show you the scars on my heart.

This one is from June 2009. It took all of June some of July, to heal. If you look closely you can see it's really a series of smaller scars that melded into one.

This one was from a night in October. It was a old wound that had to be reopened so it could heal properly. It took me so long to admit that it needed to heal differently.

This one that seems as though it should have severed my heart in two? That's an old one, that's a daddy one. I think at one time my heart may have actually been in two separate pieces, but it is back together now, and beating stronger than ever.

I would tell you about healing. I would tell you the freedom of collapsing on the floor in tears crying out to Jesus, knowing that there is NOTHING in this life that I need more than I need Him. I would tell you about nights when tears were cried in joy and celebration. I would tell you about the lightness and laughter after the healing power of the Holy Spirit washed over me. I would tell you about the time in the shower I couldn't stop laughing because of the joke God told me.

I would tell you that these last three years have been some of the most painful, most challenging, most beautiful, most incredible years of my life. I would tell you that I have never felt more like myself and that I have never loved myself more. Not because I am better, but because I am broken and made new. I would zip myself up, look you in the eye and say, "I'm so thankful I don't have to hide these scars from you."

I am so thankful...

1. Brokenness and the way He enters into every corner of it, shining His healing light and love.
2. Friendships forged in times of trial.
3. Snow, even if only for the morning.
4. Snowboarding for the first time in THREE YEARS.
5. First rail slides and my incredible cheerleader, The Mustachioed Woodsman, who high fived me each time I did one.
6. A snowy weekend away with the youth group leaders in Glenwood.
7. All day at the cabin with just The Mustachioed Woodsman, his dog and me.
8. A new friendship full of love, joy and truth.
9. The process of making pie crust.
10. Laughter.
11. An outdoor fireplace and a cup of french press.
12. The same God who placed the stars in the heavens knows MY name, and knows exactly how to love me, and LOVES me.

thankful on a thursday—struggling

On the last Wednesday of the month my church has a prayer meeting. We gather together and pray individually, in small groups, and corporately. We confess. We praise. We cry out. We intercede.

Last night, before a time of individual prayer and confession, one of the pastors challenged us with this: If you are in the midst of a certain sin, you are not struggling with that sin. You have already given yourself over to that sin. It in only when you turn away from a sin and are tempted to return to it that the struggle occurs. He went on to quote Hebrews saying, "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood."

None of us are perfect. I am not perfect. Sin will always tempt me. This isn't about being convicted to "live like a Navy SEAL for Jesus". This is simply about conviction. This is about the discipline of a Father who loves His children so much that, where we have given in to sin, He has persevered, even to the point of bloodshed in our place. His strength, his ability to struggle, is made perfect in my weakness, in my inability to struggle without Him calling me, guiding me back Home. For that I am eternally thankful.

1. A long run, off the pavement, with a running partner, and incredible views.
2. A weekend of quiet with nothing to do but cook, bake, and knit.
3. A last minute ticket to see The Avett Brothers in Portland.
4. Late night brainstorming sessions over microbrews.
5. For friendships, new and old.
6. His strength is made perfect in my weakness.
7. Free laundry.
8. The way He reminds me that He is always with me.
9. A long drive all to myself.
10. Digging into a new book I can hardly stand to put down.

a weekend away

This weekend I am going away. I will leave work on Friday, stopping by Extracto for an iced late and A Close Knit for a new set of knitting needles (square and metal and divine), before heading out along Marine Drive. Upon arriving in Glenwood, Washington I will lug my laundry, my rolling pin, my knitting, a bag of groceries and several books inside.

There are a few things on my to do list for the weekend, and I am looking forward to each of them. A weekend away with a to do list? Yeah, but check out this list:

• Laundry [that doesn't cost $1.25 per load]
• Make shaved asparagus pizza
• Knit
• Run 12 miles [with a running partner and without being chased by dogs...or cougars]
• Bake chocolate pudding pie
• Watch a movie...or two