I’ve never been a huge fan of Thanksgiving. Actually, I take that back. I haven’t been a huge fan of Thanksgiving in the past couple years. When I was little, I used to love this holiday. Almost thirty family members would squeeze into my grandparents’ house and we would have tables set up everywhere. The men would be watching football, the women would be making the dinner, and the kids were all in the living room playing board games, banging on the piano, and probably doing whatever we could do be as annoying as possible. That’s the fun part about growing up with so many cousins (shoutout to the Thomas 9). Since my grandfather passed away, things haven’t exactly been the same. I went from sharing a house with an entire extended family, to sitting at the table with just my mom and dad. It was great, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a little lonely.
Bad news has a habit of hitting me at this time of year. I love the holidays just like the next person, but there is a part of me that dreads it and then wishes I could just skip around to March. Honestly, I’m kind of afraid of it. I expect these next couple weeks to be a trial. And I’m really struggling with being positive on top of that. I’m definitely a dweller, and it takes a lot for me to completely get over something. I carry various things with me always. And sometimes I worry that I may do this to myself.
This year has been different in many ways. This Thanksgiving was no exception. Instead of having a couple days off with the break, I drove to Sanford early Thursday morning, my mom and I drove down to South Carolina just for one day, and I stretched myself to spend time with my parents and great friends from college. But in all of that, it was a great weekend.
My anxieties started creeping back up my shoulders as I drove up the mountain. I started thinking of the past month and how many changes it’s brought. I moved to Montreat and began working a temporary job that will last me until the end of 2017. I knew this scenario going into the position, and yet I’m finding myself back at the drawing board. But still, a lot of things have changed. Things are always changing. That’s probably one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in the past year. This time last year I had just agreed to an internship that ended up changing the way that I viewed myself, my field and everyday people in general. It taught me how to use my heart in a way I never thought imaginable.
You see, a huge part about myself that I don’t necessarily enjoy advertising is that I have an extremely thin skin. I can remember tons of situations over the years where things have got to me. Things that if I think about them too long, they could still hurt today. But I’ve been battling with my mind in that way recently. Am I thinking these things because it’s my idea, or is it God’s idea?
I stumbled across a blog post the other day by Marian Jordan Ellis, the founder of Redeemed Girl Ministries. In this post titled “Unwavering Hope”, the author speaks of a familiar way of thinking. In fact I’ve shared quotes like this before from my grandfather’s sermons. So you can imagine how I enjoyed these thoughts I’ve grown accustomed to.
“Often we confuse hope with wishful thinking or mere optimism. Wishful thinking says, “I sure hope I win the lottery” or “I hope our team wins the big game.” Wishful thinking is not wrong, but it is not the kind of hope that God calls us to as His children. Why? Because there is no basis for confidence or trust…it is merely a wish.
We also confuse hope with optimism, which is when we look at a bad situation and either ignore it or downplay it. I’m not saying that having an optimistic personality is a fault, what I am saying is that there is a big difference between optimism and hope. Hope looks at even the worst case scenario and believes that God can remedy the situation. Biblical hope is a confident expectation. It proves to be our faith in God that expects Him to deliver upon His promises.”
This has not been my favorite season in my life, but I know I will always look back on it. Many challenges and new ideas have flooded my mind in the last 10 months. This is a time that I don’t think I’ll ever forget because I started out incredibly faded. I felt like a ghost going through all of these motions. Somewhere along the way, I really held onto this hope thing. Except, I had specific ideas in my head of how I wanted my life to work out. Fast forward a couple months and I’m hit with the striking realization that just because I’m stronger in my faith now more than ever, doesn’t mean that everything will magically be okay. If anything, God’s testing me more and more every single day because he knows I can handle it. I feel like he’s saying, “Look at what you’ve already been through. You’ve survived and there’s so much more to come.”
I finally started differentiating optimism and hope and soon realized that God’s will is always done. I can’t alter what comes my way, but I can choose how I react to it. I can either let the fear and the doubt consume me, or I can thank God for choosing me to take on this battle.
Marian continues on in her blog to share a verse from Joshua showing this unwavering hope.
Joshua said to them, “Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous. This is what the Lord will do to all the enemies you are going to fight.” Joshua 10:25
I feel like I’m afraid 97% of the time. I’m your typical scaredy cat. Just this weekend, my mom asked me a question that required a simple decision to be made. Probably along the lines of, “Where do you want to eat?”
I responded with, “I don’t know, I’m stressed!”
And that’s usually how things go. I’ve also been more than a little discouraged. But in this verse it says “be strong and courageous.”
What do those words mean to you? The first thing that comes to my mind is someone who’s incredibly rooted. Rooted in their faith, in their beliefs. Rooted in how they view others. They’re confident enough to defend those views, no matter what they are. In my opinion, being strong and courageous is standing in your hope, knowing that things probably won’t turn out exactly how you dreamt them.
I guess I always knew that my family wouldn’t be together on Thanksgiving forever. I guess I knew that one day things would have to start changing. But you see the stubborn side of me just wanted to pout all day long. Well instead, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. (incredibly uncharacteristic of me, I know), grabbed my coffee, drove the three hours home and helped my mom make our Thanksgiving meal. It was small and quiet and simple. And I oddly ended up loving it. I had no other stressors pounding on my shoulders, I’d somehow left them all behind in the mountains. And honestly, don’t ask me how I did it. I’m just as surprised as you.
Every night when I go to bed, I do a devotional. I’ve done it for a little over 10 months now and it’s become second nature. I copy down my verse from the day, and then I start on a prayer. No matter how the day went my first words are, “Thank you for today.”
For some reason, my first couple nights started out that way, and I’ve made a conscious effort to continue it. When I explain to people that I do this nightly writing, sometimes their first thought is, “Oh yeah, a grateful journal.”
But it’s that and so much more.
I came home from work one day, not long ago, incredibly frustrated. I was embarrassed and shocked at how I felt after having a meeting with a family and my supervisor. I wanted nothing more than to hide in my bed and cry for at least a week. It wasn’t one of the normal tough conversations that occur, this one was exceptionally bad. Just bad. It made me doubt my abilities and wonder if I was even on the right path. I didn’t think I’d ever do this, but here’s an excerpt from my prayer that night:
“People don’t realize what you bring home, and I’m so tired of bringing this home. Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I allowing others to tear me down? I questioned everything today. I really just wanted to disappear. I don’t know what to do. I keep worrying so much. Why do I feel like I’m fading again?”
Let’s just say, it was hard to get out of bed the next morning. And even harder the morning after that. But then in the afternoon came a sort of rushed email from my supervisor. She essentially said that she was proud of me and impressed with the effort that I’ve brought to our workplace. It was simple, but it was needed. I felt an immense load taken off of my shoulders. As they say, you are your own worst critic. And in the past, I’ve done nothing short of tear myself down every time I’m not perfect.
The next couple nights I was greeted with these verses:
“Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” Luke 12:7
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27
“Do not be afraid, you who are highly esteemed, he said, Peace! Be strong now; be strong. When he spoke to me, I was strengthened and said, Speak, my Lord, since you have given me strength.” Daniel 10:19
I see a common theme here. Do you?
Do not be afraid.
I sometimes wonder why I’ve been on this crazy personal journey. And I really wonder why I decided to write about all of it. Occasionally, I’ll read back over a post and think
“Maybe I should delete this.”
“That definitely needed to be re-worded.”
And the always present thought of, “Why do I sound like I’m constantly complaining?”
I’ve wondered on and off if the whole blogging your feelings once a month thing is tacky. But then I remind myself that I’ve done this for a purpose. Looking back at where I was even two months ago compared to now…it’s insane. I’ve grown SO much. And I love that I have the confidence to not only think that, but express it.
There’s always something to be thankful for. And maybe that’s been the reason for these confusing times. Every single day, I work with people who don’t have the best means. These people might not know who God is, and that’s okay because in some ways I’ve felt like I’ve been showing them God. Reading that out loud sounds super conceited to me, but it’s the truth. Confidence, empowerment, and peace are all things I think of when I think of God. Some people think my job is only about tearing families apart when in reality, it’s the exact opposite. It requires a boat-load of patience and promise to keep going. When someone does something that sets you fifteen steps back, you have to continue. Giving up is not an option. I wish I had the time to explain this to every person I met.
I’m thankful for the alone time I have with my parents, for the cold walks down busy streets with my friends, for the quiet nights in this basement apartment and even the hectic afternoons when everything seems like way way way too much. I’m thankful I’m able to express all of those anxieties resting on my shoulders, and I’m thankful that there’s always someone willing to listen to me. Trying times will always be there, but staying positive and reminding myself that I am blessed to even be in these situations is my best way to live. Maybe I was given this hard case because I was meant to connect with an individual, maybe I needed to experience the frightening moments of being unemployed to show the credible moments in my true abilities, maybe I am supposed to feel a little lonely in order to feel whole all by myself. Because isn’t there that saying, something along the lines of, “you have to experience the bad to appreciate the good.”
Well I feel like I’ve had a whole lot of bad, so I’m running into this holiday season eager to finally embrace the good. This doesn’t mean there won’t be setbacks, but I think it’s important to fully recognize those. I feel like I’m going to be struggling with the question of is it me or is it God even more in the near future. But more than anything, I’m thankful that I have God in this scenario. And I can only hope to remember to be thankful in everything to come.
simple sam 