Moving Forward From 2015 And Looking Ahead To 2016

Hey, 2015. Bye, Felicia!

I don't think it will surprise anyone to hear me say I'm incredibly glad this year is ending. I've chronicled some of the challenges 2015 brought me through this blog, but there was still a lot of pain and struggle that I kept off the internet. It was a year of loss in so many ways, but that might be a good thing.

Pastor Steve and Kathy Gray said 2015 would be the year of restoration and wholeness, and we all grabbed hold of that promise. I know I wasn't alone in wondering what happened to that in the second half of the year. One of the messages that really stands out to me from this year was when Pastor Kathy tackled that complaint. She pointed out that when you restore a home, you don't just polish up the surface. Paint may make it look pretty, but rot is still inside the walls. Restoration means gutting the place and rebuilding. It's messy and painful, but the end result is much better.

I feel like that was my year. It was a process of removing people and things from my life to remind me what deserves my focus. Friends are nice, but they aren't God. I had to learn that I'll still be ok, even if I'm on my own. Instead of having to be with people all the time and staying super busy, I've grown to appreciate a little time alone and time readjusting my focus. I'm nowhere near where I should be at this point, but the point is that I'm trying again.

That's because I have hope.

There were a couple times throughout the year that I thought about writing on hope, but just didn't have the time. When I didn't make time, the revelation faded away in the craziness of daily life and I'd lose that hope once again.

One of those moments was at Autumn Darden's baby shower. She shared her amazing story and the gift of her precious little boy, Jack. She shared Hebrews 6:19, which says, "This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil," Anchors have become a "basic white girl thing," so I never really got into the them until this verse gave me a new way to see it.

Hope in God's plan is what keeps us tied to Him. When we lose our trust in His goodness and faithfulness, we float away.

Story of my year.

As soon as I'd get busy and distracted, there went my focus until something bad happened. No matter how far I'd float, my anchor was still holding strong to guide me back.

Romans 5:4 says, "endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation." I had to go through this year to learn how to hold on to hope and not give up. There was a point this year where I was on the phone with my best friend, crying about how there was nothing left for me. I lost my hope, but I found it again within myself instead of hoping through others. It's on a much smaller scale of what Job went through. He lost everything, but Job 17:16 says, "No, my hope will go down with me to the grave. We will rest together in the dust!”

Job didn't give up, and God blessed him. If he could hold on to hope in the midst of his troubles, so can I.

I realized this one morning when my alarm went off. I absentmindedly set my ringtone to a song by Remedy Drive called "Hope." The chorus says, "Hope's not giving up. In a cold dark night she's not giving, not giving up." Then, the bridge says, "Hope is with me in my time of trouble. When it all comes crashing down she will stay By my side digging through the rubble. She's not giving up."

I'm not giving up.

Hope has been all around me, but I didn't always see it. I mean, even my giraffe is named Hope and I didn't think about it until last week! I see pictures with that giraffe every day and it didn't click. I'm silly.

Of course, to seal the deal, my friend Jill gave me a bracelet with an anchor and the word hope on it for Christmas. She had no idea that I've been thinking about it lately. Then, I miraculously escape spinning through three lanes of traffic without hitting a single thing. That was a reminder that there is something bigger ahead for me in 2016. There is an overwhelming sense of excitement deep within me whenever I think about this next year. I have no idea what adventures are around this corner, but I'm ready to tackle them.

2015 wasn't all bad. It provided some great moments, so here's a little look back.

"For in the hour of our darkest day

We will not tremble, we won't be afraid.

Hope is rising like the light of dawn.

Our God is for us He has overcome."

- We Will Not Be Shaken by Brian Johnson

Sticking With Sobriety After 18 Months Without Alcohol

Here's a sentence I never thought I'd ever write: Today marks 18 months of sobriety.

I never thought I'd write it because I never planned to drink alcohol in the first place. Once I got rolling on the river of booze during my senior year of college, I didn't expect to give it up. It was an easy way to deal with the stress and hurts that happened during my early 20's. (That's another strange thought... I'm not in my early 20's anymore! Eep!) I didn't realize I was self-medicating with alcohol until after I had cut it off.

I don't know if I'm more surprised at how fast this year and a half flew by or that I actually stuck with the decision to give up drinking.

There have been so many nights where all I wanted was a big bottle of Kraken or a six-pack of Boulevard Wheat so I could put the drama into a haze for a while and breathe. This year especially was filled with losses and such painful moments that had I picked up a bottle, it would not have ended well in the slightest. However, not all of the challenges were based on avoiding feelings. Several of my drinking buddies got married and had booze-a-plenty at the receptions, but I made it through sober. There were parties and concerts, but I opted for Dr. Pepper instead. I didn't even crack open the bottle of vodka a friend gave me or one left on my desk by a PR team. I stayed strong.

The questions that came up repeatedly were how and why didn't I give in.

Honestly, there were days when literally the only reason why I didn't was because of the contract I signed as part of the School of Ministry. That was it. I didn't want to break the rules. But then, during the summer and right now, I took some time off from school to rest. That means no more code of conduct, but I have still stayed sober. There is the obvious reason for that, which is I gave it up for God. In that moment at the Encounter Conference, I knew that He was calling me to give it up. I just assumed that the reason was because it's generally viewed as wrong in the Christian community.

Now, I see now that a bigger piece of that reason was to reach people. I've shared my story on stage to a streaming community around the world, through this blog, and in conversations with friends and strangers alike. I know my story has impacted at least two people to give up alcohol as well, and there is a third that I really hope will listen soon. The thought of impacting people's lives like that because I made one decision to follow a calling is a little overwhelming.

Plus, all that exposure keeps you honest. There is this voice in the back of my head reminding me that if I were to drink, I'd be just another hypocritical Christian. I try really hard to not add to that mess. I saw this quote meme online saying something along the lines of "God didn't give you the strength to stand up so you could run back to the thing that knocked you down." Standing strong is a battle, but one I can't afford to lose because I don't want to reflect badly on God and those who serve Him along with me.

The past 18 months have been a challenge, and I'm sure sticking with this in the months ahead will present themselves with similar problems, but it's a challenge I will overcome. I know where my strength comes from.

Sinking Ships and Taking Care Of Myself... For Once

This isn't the most spiritual of posts, but whatever. It's my life and I'm going through a revival of sorts.

There is a point where you have to let go or you die; the point where if you bend any more, you'll break.

I finally hit the point where my extreme stubbornness bowed in order to stay alive.

It's strange. Nine days ago, I was crying on the phone to my best friend about feeling like there wasn't a drop of life left in me; there was nothing worth saving. I thought I was done then, but it only got worse. It took a couple of calls in the middle of the night and some intensely emotional writing for me to realize that this situation isn't ok.

4 a.m. writings --

A girl can only be dragged on a roller coaster so many times before she gets sick.
A girl can only survive getting punched in the gut so many times before it causes internal damage.
A girl can only bleed so much for another soul so much before it kills her.
I'm tired of feeling like I'm dead.
Rebuilding yourself is exhausting. It's worse when every time you start piecing together Legos as fragile legs under yourself so you can start standing again, someone comes along and kicks them out from underneath you.

That was when I made the decision to cut my best friend out of my life.

Why on earth would I distance myself from the one person who understands my quirks more than anyone, and actually enjoys them? The inconsistency is toxic. Over the past year, we've gone through more periods of not speaking for various reasons than I care to count. Every time we'd split, it tore me up. We'd try again and both feel better until being forced apart again. The hurt just kept getting deeper with each rip. They weren't clean and little pieces of the past caused issues to fester under the surface, and I'm sure there is more to it than I even realize. I can't keep walking into bear traps, knowing I'm going to lose a limb. I have to protect what little is left.

Two old friends reached out to me out of the blue that day and said the same thing. "You have to take care of yourself first." They pointed out that I can't really care for people when I'm empty. One of my teachers said that people coming against her only works when she's at a deficit internally. Just like it is easier to knock over an empty bottle instead of one filled with water, attacks do more damage when you are empty and weak. That's what made the separations hurt so much. I was empty of everything good, and didn't have the strength to see past the clutter of the now.

That's all changing.

I'm working to get back on the right track again. It's funny how fast it comes back. Peace and joy are increasing in me because I know this is the right thing to do. I'm reconnecting with God and with things I enjoy but didn't have time for. For the most part, I feel better. 

I have discovered one pesky issue through this whole thing. It was ok for them to block me repeatedly throughout the past year when they needed space, but when that I took control in the same way, they lashed out and said we are done for good. (Yes, I missed some paths. There are too many, nowadays.) It highlighted a pattern from our past: control. I could list several examples of times I thought we should or shouldn't do something and was met with resistance and caved. Some time later, we would change stances on the same issue and I would cave again. I totally understand the power struggle that was involved, but it doesn't make it less annoying now to realize I basically let a child control my life. I don't mean that negatively, because there is a bit of an age difference. That aspect showed in the temper tantrum that followed my decision. Of course, that sent me spiraling back into the mode trying to comfort and fix the situation. I felt manipulated, which only made me angrier. Our ship didn't just sink; it went down in flames.

Now don't get me wrong, I still care deeply about this person. I would do anything for them. I would give anything, including my life, to help them. I hope they understand that depth, even after everything. I loved spoiling them and taking care of them because of the big, dopey grins and high pitched squeaks following a surprise. Despite the very deep lows, many of my happiest moments from the year were when we were hanging out together. We didn't even have to do anything and I was content.

Therein lies the biggest problem. We didn't do anything.

For some reason I still don't understand, we stopped pushing each other to be better. Instead, we pulled laziness and rebellion out of each other. Church became rare. We worked, slept and watched tv together. People tried to tell us that we were heading toward destruction, but oh well, we were happy in our bubble doing what we wanted. Losing opportunities sucked, but that didn't even really force a change. Things were comfortable between us, so why bother adjusting? We both had traumas from our past that we hadn't dealt with. I wanted to help, but how could I drag someone through the mud when I was stuck too? There were cracks in our foundation and it was only a matter of time before we crumbled. It could've been something great, but we were dumb.

I'm not going to take their route and smash the whole institution. There was a lot of really great things that happened because of our connection. I learned more about myself and a deeper meaning of loving another person. I grew let down walls I didn't know I had. I softened, and I'm trying to not let that slip back into hardness. I believe they grew too, and hope they can still see there was a value and purpose for this year. 

I honestly do miss who we were in the beginning, though. I got a glimpse of that person nine days ago. When I was crying about how worthless I felt, they threatened to "bop" me on the head to get me to think straight and tried to convince me of my worth. That was before the falling out, so maybe that isn't the case anymore. 

Either way, I still see the good in them. I can't help it come to the surface or take away the pain that's burying it, but I know that good is there. More than anything, I hope they find peace with the past and joy in the future. There are still moments I have to fight not to run back and try to repair things for them, but I can't. I have to take care of myself before there is nothing left. I'm of no use when I'm that empty, and I don't ever want to get to this point again.

It's time to begin again.

"Another day, another worry breaks right through

And indecision bleeds me dry

She's painting pictures I'm not making for her

And she's got a vision without me in mind

I can't believe you."

   - "Hands on Deck" by Waking Ashland