But somehow i was writing for the Brave Girl Boots Blog. As I was reading the women's stories of their couragessness (it's a real word, just trust me ok?) I thought wow. I'm unworthy. I hope my story of bravery helps someone else to be brave, even if in comparison my story isn't that great. (Let's face it comparison is work of the enemy and I don't like to give that slimeball too much credit).
So fast forward to this time, and I find myself so very honored to have my name in a book of women that God made so very awesomely brave. But the truth is also that I find myself so very broken, in need of a Savior. I don't need someone to come in with some arlene's tacky glue, I need some real healing, and removal of the scar tissue. (But leave the scar so I never forget the healing that has taken place). And I'm thankful for a Savior that can do that, because ONLY He can!!!
I have been in need of "something" that can take me to the next level of where I need to be. I have felt like I didn't need more "God created you awesome" bull-ony Duh. Have you met me? The greatest parts of me are God stitched. I needed something to hit the core of me to get rid of those parts of me that have been hidden in fear. The parts that I don't like to admit I have, the parts that as God removes them and refines me, He makes them shine like only He can.
And as I pray, and seek, for wisdom and healing, I am still brought back to that moment, that moment in the car while driving to Buckley. "We are moving to Colorado". How do I love and hate those words at the very same time? I love that my friends have always been some of the best examples of TRUE disciples, following God, losing what they have for the hope of what He brings.
They weren't just people I served in youth ministry with. It might have been where we met and how we built or relationship, but those 5, that started out as 2 when I met them, they are my friends and my "nephews" and my life was never the same as each of them came into it, and surely wasn't the same after they left.
And there it is. People leave. For good reasons and bad.
Fear of abandonment.
And I don't know where that comes from, maybe it's because my momma left this earth far too early. And no matter what you say I'll always believe that mommas are supposed to stay.
Maybe it's why I hug super hard, know you are loved. I cherish that moment, it's not just a greeting or a goodbye, it's an I loveyou
And them leaving it's been a hard to cultivate relationships, making new friends but I am glad that God has me in this place, and those friendships are deeper than I ever thought possible (go figure, He knew what He was doing). And then God moves me to a new church where it's not always comfortable. (Comfort zones are peaceful but I won't grow there). Starting over and getting to know people and making myself vulnerable is not always my first choice. And doing that at a time when I feel empty, ALMOST seems impossible.
But when empty, that's when God seems to do His "best work" and fills me, and fills me with the kind of love and grace and joy that only He can (it's like the best casserole EVER!)
Wow these boots!
I remember thinking "maybe my story will change someone's heart" but really all these stories have come into my life, and are changing my heart to one that not only bears His name, but makes mine look more like His.
I keep singing "The Desert Song" by Hillsong