Getting Baptized The Second Time Around

It's a moment I still remember after about 20 years.

I was wearing a totally 90's frilly red dress that slightly resembled something a princess would wear, or so I thought. Despite my fever, I was in the tiny back room of the church, shivering and buried underneath all the coats we could find. I didn't become stubborn overnight, so it should come at no surprise that I refused to leave church sick.

It was baptism day and I wasn't going to miss it, not even for a fever. God is pretty cool in those moments and loves showing up. I remember Pastor Jack prayed for me while we stood in the water. He dunked me and I came out feeling so much better.

A lot can happen in 20 years, and it surely did in my life.

This past Sunday, I went back into a baptismal, this time in a different church, different state, and with a different heart. I've been asked about the why a few times, so here's the answer. It's been a long time in the making.

When I started going to World Revival Church, I got involved in the "Innocence Restored" book study within the first month. Rhonda, who was one of the leaders, told the story of her second baptism. I remember sitting in Dean'na's living room and thinking that maybe I should do that too. It's a thought that was always floating around my brain for nearly three years.

Getting that thought to become reality was a challenge. Every time a baptism came up, something kept me away. I watched the first one on streaming from work and reaffirmed in my mind that it was something I would do... eventually. It was just so amazing to watch.

If you haven't witnessed a WRC baptism, you are missing out. It's not a separate ceremony, but rather, baptism is a celebration incorporated into worship. The tub is set up to the left of the stage on the floor. While the congregation worships, the pastoral staff takes turns helping people into the water one at a time. When the person is lifted out of the water, there is an abundance of cheering, clapping, raised hands, and tears. The Spirit of God gets so thick in the room, and it's deeply moving to witness.

They announced the April 2nd date, but I didn't really think much of it. I knew I had plans the night before, plus there was an 11-hour overnight shift of work between dinner and church and another one immediately following service time. I figured I'd take a nap at work and avoid falling asleep on the drive home.

But at the event the night before, one of our school leaders talked to us about jumping off the cliff with God when He asks. She felt like some things she was supposed to do in life are not really options anymore because she responded to God too slowly. 

It didn't really hit me until I was driving home to change before work. Maybe this was one of those moments where I was responding slowly. After all, it's been nearly three years since I first thought of doing it here. The other thought that came up was Pastor Aaron telling me during a minor meltdown that he saw me as restored, even though most people are still dragging their feet about it. The action of getting baptized itself wasn't the only part that would show restoration. God told me that doing it with a certain person would bring about healing.

Before I even met Emily, I saw her as a little sister. We had some rough times, but we have been working through stuff together and growing closer together over the past few months of school. She has grown so much in that time, and I frequently catch myself watching her in awe of her heart and passion for God. While we are friends again, people don't seem to get that it's possible. We have both been amused by the weird looks that flit across faces when they see us together. The night before baptism, she even crawled up into my chair with me and we played on Snapchat for quite some time. So, when God said doing it with her would bring restoration, I believed Him.

There in my car, with about 10 hours until the service, I decided I was getting baptized again. Beyond that, I told God that when I came out of that water, the hurts of the past that I'd been carrying around were going to stay in that water. I mean, if He could use baptism to heal me of whatever sickness I was dealing with as a child, he most certainly could do this too.

I hadn't told anyone that I was going to do it, other than the church. Emily's face when she turned around and saw me in the matching shirt cemented that it was the right thing. She immediately hugged me. I was in line with my precious friends Emily, Kortney, and Issac for the baptism, with Rachel and Sarah acting as our towel girl and photographer. We were shaking, laughing and crying through the wait. 

Throughout the whole line of baptisms, the band played the song "Back to Life" which has about the most perfect lyrics for that moment.

"I, I’m coming back to life 

I’m feeling hope arise
Because of You, only You, Jesus
I, I’m leaving the rest behind
My heart is satisfied
Because of You, only You, Jesus
I lay down my weakness
I take on Your strength
I lay down my defenses
I step into Your victory
Resentment, depression & all anxieties
They have no power over me
Addictions, strongholds & every disease
They have no power over me."

When I came up out of the water, I felt so much lighter, it's ridiculous. I said "woah" and then realized I couldn't see anything for a minute, thanks to my contacts moving out of place. The presence of God was so sweet in that moment. The girls and I just stood dripping wet near the line hugging each other and watching the rest of the group get dunked. I saw a few confused people staring at us, but felt them getting the point that the time for judgement is past.

When all was said and done, more than 50 people were baptized that morning. You can see the video montage of it here.

The rest of that day was so wonderful. Even when customers tried to get snippy with me, I didn't care. The peace and joy of Jesus were so strong, and have carried along through the past week. It's really hard to put into words how incredibly life changing one seemingly simple moment can be.

7 Things I Learned From My Season of Solitude

I thought I posted this last week. Apparently not. I guess I'll leave this for now and come back to my new thoughts later...

Since my last post, several people have asked me if any good came out of my few months "in hiding," so to speak. The answer is a resounding, "yes!" Here are the seven keys that stand out the most.

1. Rest is actually an important thing. 

Those of you who know me personally probably just fell out of your chair or did a spit take. I've always been the girl constantly on the go, fully believing in sayings like, "sleep is for the weak" and "I'll sleep when I'm dead." Shortly before all the drama happened, several people expressed concern about my daily schedule. One of my friends went so far to say, "you aren't burning the candle at both ends. You threw the whole thing into the fire." Apparently working a full-time job, a part-time job, being a full-time college student and trying have a social life sounds like it's too much.  Meh. I survived, didn't I? Did I survive without being a moron? Not so much. One person told me that I tend to make dumb decisions when I'm sleepy, and she had a point. So, I used the time I'd normally be in class to get almost a normal amount of sleep, most of the time.

2. A different kind of independence.

As an oldest child, I'm pretty independent from the get-go, but I'm also pretty social. I never really thought of it as a crutch, but it is in a way. I hid behind my jam-packed calendar and used it as an excuse to get out of things. Making the decision to cut everyone off gave me more freedom. I didn't say no to things because I only had a couple hours to sleep and do things. I said no because I didn't want to. I stopped needing to see and talk to people all day and focused on what I wanted. Yes, that's a little selfish and yes, it was lonely, but there was a freedom in it. Not only was I sleeping almost normally for the first time in years, but I was reading for fun again. I started going back to the gym a little bit. The few people who were a part of my life during those months were there because I wanted them there. I had to learn to stand on my own and not live for what other people thought I should do.

3. ... but submitting to leadership is not as painful as it sounds.

When Heather first suggested one on one meetings, let's just say I was less than excited about the whole deal. In her words, I had a "junky attitude." She basically had to challenge me into it, knowing I do love disproving expectations. Even though I agreed to do it, doesn't mean I was all in for the process. I actually avoided it for a while. The holidays gave me a great opportunity to put this whole concept of letting someone all up in my business on the back burner. While I was ducking the process, I met someone who actually made me want to be better so I could be something good in their life. It opened my eyes to what I was hiding from.... the people who actually saw something good buried in me and wanted to bring it to the surface. I had to heal for the sake of everyone else my story could positively impact, and that meant listening to people who have experience getting past hurdles. As much as I fought it in the beginning, I can already see how much that guidance helped in just a couple months time. It's crazy to think how much change is possible in the months to come.

4. Consistency brings stability.

Roller coasters are fun because of the ups and downs. Despite Pastor Diana talking about stability I don't know how many times, I still felt like the ups and downs are what make life the adventure that it is. But that was an opinion formed from a life that had never really known stability. In setting goals and taking small steps to make them happen, things leveled out in a good way. Life still has its ups and downs, but life is better now. Taking care of myself and being consistent in doing so has leveled out the day to day life in a positive way. The journey doesn't end with leveling out myself. Now, I'm becoming someone other people can lean on instead of being the one leaning on others.

5. Perseverance.

This journey has not been easy to say the least, and it still isn't easy now. There are so many times I wanted to give up and vanish. I thought about moving. I thought about quitting media team or the church. One person argued with me about how they'd do anything to still be here, but then they walked in my shoes. Being in a place where people know your mistakes and hold it against you, whether they realize the judgement in their glares or not, sucks. As much as I wanted to leave, I knew I wasn't done here. I couldn't walk away knowing something big is around the corner. Mary's "kitty cat claws" had to come out and dig in, no matter how painful it was. I became as invisible as possible just to get through it all, knowing at some point, it would be worth it.

6. Hope.

For some odd reason, I really latched on to the word "hope" at the beginning of the year. Hebrews 6:19 says, "Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast." This has really come alive in my life. The more I fought to hang on, the more I had to question why I was doing it. My boss asked me one day, "What is the point? It doesn't seem like it's working for you." At the time, I didn't have an answer other than, "because it's what I know I need to do." Later in the day, I remembered a line out of Lisa Bevere's book "Girl's With Swords" that basically says the enemy isn't attacking who you are now, but who you could be in the future. That made me look ahead. I had to have a hope that there is something better ahead. The church's theme for the year is "begin again" and I latched on to the hope in those two simple words. The radio even cemented that stirring of hope in me with songs like: "Grace Wins," "It's Not Over Yet,"and "Trust in You." I had to think differently. I had to hope that the good was coming, and when it showed up, it nearly knocked me over. Without faith that God is good and He will back up His people, I wouldn't have made it through this season.

7. It's only a season, and seasons come to an end.

It's so easy to get sucked into the pity party of "why me" and "things aren't going to change" but seasons always come to and end, allowing a new one to begin. Because of all the things I had been learning, I was ready for the clouds to break. I was broken and surrendered, which is the perfect place for God to start moving in and through you. I could've turned to any number of things to get over the hurt and sadness, but I turned to where my strength actually comes from. Now, I'm back in the School of Ministry and doors are opening that I didn't think would ever so much as crack. I was telling my dad about everything and described this new season as terrifyingly peaceful. Life is truly good now, but I can feel that something v even better is on the way.

Looking back, my friend Jacque was right. She told me it's easier to work on your character workout the crowd. It took a problem in public to get me to that point on both levels, but I'm walking it out. This journey isn't over. Yeah, people still keep their distance and blame me for the problems others are dealing with, but oh well. I know I'm trying. God knows I'm trying. Those whose opinions matter know I'm trying. That's what matters. I'm not doing this for the crowd. I'm doing it because it's right and phrases God. Everything and everyone else will fall into place on its own.

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.

Worship Through The Pain; God Is Still There Through The Hardest Moments

I've been procrastinating this post long enough. I keep saying I'll write it after I do my homework, but that isn't going anywhere this week, so here goes.

September was a really rough month for me, and I'm incredibly glad it's over.

It all started the morning of the first when a very important relationship in my life blew up in spectacularly dramatic fashion. Break-ups are hard enough, but the way it crumbled around me left me crushed and isolated. If it would have ended that day, maybe the month would have felt differently, but that's not how life goes. Every time I thought the situation was improving, there was a sudden twist back to Suckytown waiting at the next step. One of those rocked my world with pain that eclipsed the initial heartbreak, but I never really mentioned it to others outside the situation. That's all I'll say about that, so, moving on!

Toward the end of the month, my Grandpa passed away. My dad left a message on Facebook to call him after I was done with wedding rehearsals. After a couple rounds of phone tag, I finally got a hold of him for the update. He put me on speakerphone and I got to tell Grandpa I loved him one last time. I asked him to hold on for nine more days for my previously planned surprise visit, but he was gone within five minutes of the call ending. Needless to say, I didn't sleep much that night.

By that point, I was just ready for this train wreck of a month to end. With two days left in September, Pastor Eric Thomasson preached something during chapel that I needed to hear. He said, "Worship through the pain. Sing with a little anger." He talked about how just because we don't feel like doing something for God, doesn't mean we get to give him less than our best. "You don't do it because you feel like it, guys. You do it because it's right," Eric said. "God gets the most glory out of people who don't feel adequate to do what God has called them to do, but do it anyway." Pastor Eric went on to talk about not letting seasons in life dictate who God is and using whatever pain we are struggling with as ammunition through the darkness straight to the heart of God. (See, I was paying attention despite my phone going off! Ha!) Not only was I paying attention then, but I though about the concept all week.

Friday rolled around and I went to church as usual. Right before service, I was informed that my attempt at being nice was twisted, and I about lost my cool. As my eyes welled up, the woman told me not to let it ruin my night. Pastor Eric's words came back to my mind. "Sing with a little anger." In that moment, I had more than a little fuel and I fully intended to use it.

So that's what I did, and dang, did it ever work. It took a couple minutes and a lot of focus, but worshiping THROUGH the pain broke off that anger. Maybe we shook it off with our awkward jumping trio, but I found myself smiling and laughing again without forcing it.

During worship, Pastor Eric said, "Don't fear this new season. The new season will bring a brighter day." He kept trying to talk, but the world's worst feedback took over. The devil really didn't want that message sinking in, but I grabbed on to it.

Then later, Pastor James had one woman go to the front because how she was worshiping after everything she's been through in life took his breath away. Before he even finished saying what he was going to have her do, Esther pushed me and said "go." I didn't move. Pastor James said he wanted her to pray for women who were going through a tough time. Esther shoved me again, but that time I went forward. Lots of tears later, the woman next to me grabbed my knee and squeezed. I have never talked to this woman, but I wrapped an arm around her and we just sat there, soaking in the strength in that moment.

Pastor James talked about how storms reveal our foundation, but there will always be a morning. "It's in knowing God that we will be able to stand through any storm." So, I decided then, this seemingly never-ending storm sucks, but it's not going to ruin what's ahead for me.

All of this drama and loss distracted me from all the good that's been happening around me throughout the month. I started a promotion at my primary job, and have had a complete blast with it. My schedule changed to a four day work week, which is pretty fantastic. I got a raise at my part time job. I jumped back into WRSM. I got to stand next to a friend of 17 years as she started a new chapter in her life with the most fun wedding I've ever been to. I spent time catching up with old friends and made fantastic new ones. I went camping, fed bison, and moved a massive tree branch on my own.

Even with my grandpa's death, there is good. He isn't in pain anymore. I'm pretty lucky that I made it to 26 years old before I lost the first grandparent. I already had a trip home planned, but he gave me more time with family. (Granted, being in the house without him is strange as all get out!) Heather messaged me out of the blue and said, "Your grandpa now watches you from above and is encouraging you with his love." I think that's pretty true considering how proud he looked when he found out I was in ministry school during my last visit.

There was so much good in this month, but I let the bad overpower the positive. The biggest positive of all is that I'm still standing. September wasn't just hard on me. There were a lot of people going through major trials at the same time, and we are all still standing because of how we handled the problem and where we placed our faith.

I didn't want to leave service that Friday night, but before I ran off to work, I hugged Dean'na. After a moment, she said, "You aren't leaving. You have too much to do here." I already gained so much peace and freedom throughout the service, but she just added on to it. I may not know exactly what role lies ahead, but I am certainly not going to let jerkwads and drama keep me from it. I'm not going to let anger and bitterness toward them block me out of God's next move, so I pray for them and for the strength to not go back to that place of darkness.

Like Pastor Eric said in chapel, "If you aren't satisfied, you are in a good place. Satisfaction leads to complacency." I'm not satisfied with where I am, but I'm also not going to let the storm steal the joy and goodness of God that is surrounding me on this journey.

I think we both knew that my visit in January would be the last time we saw each other. He wasn't expected to live long enough for me to get there then, but I got to pray for him and he lasted another 8 months. When I told him it was time for me to go, he grabbed onto me with both hands. They said he cried once I left, and so did I.
I missed seeing him again this time by 9 days. 
Lyle Carr was quite the character and an amazing man. I'm so blessed to call him my family. We miss you so much, Grandpa! 

11/1/26 - 9/25/15

Removing branches of fruitless relationships from life, no matter how painful and challenging

I haven't felt like I've had anything worthwhile to say lately. It's just one of the fruits that shriveled up over this summer. The seasons are changing in so many ways, and I simply must share. Trust me, this all weaves together.

About a month ago, I went back to where I grew up for a wedding. My date and I planned to camp out in the backyard of the now vacant home I once lived in. Since it's been empty for more than a year, there were plants blocking the stairs to the deck and we didn't feel like risking poison ivy in the dark.

Instead, we sat and enjoyed the clear view of the stars and start of the Perseid meteor shower for a while, then got a hotel in town. It turned out to be a good thing because a pretty strong storm rolled through that night.

I didn't realize how lucky we were until yesterday, when I stopped by and saw branches down all over the place. The biggest one would have landed on my car had we stayed.

I blew it off as "nothing I can do now" and carried on with the evening's plans.

Those plans happened to be the most tame bachelorette party ever, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

The week before was incredibly difficult. I was coming off a profoundly painful end to a cherished relationship, but I was bound and determined to not be a Debbie downer at this party.

The bride and I have known each other about 17 years now. We grew up about a mile apart, which was the one end of our tiny town to the other and went to college together, also pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Camping on her family's ranch was a no-brainer for the party.

Several times throughout the night, I'd glance up at the sky. It was a crystal clear night, so we could see the Milky Way, some meteors bringing up the rear of the Perseid shower, and thousands of stars. It was astoundingly beautiful. When I was a kid and had something on my mind, I'd sneak out of the house in the middle of the night. I'd sit on the front porch, stare at Orion and send my stress to the stars. I felt like this party was the same thing. Not only was I sending all the stress and hurt to the sky, it was flying away with meteors as I made wishes for this new chapter of life. It was so therapeutic and relaxing, I was able to double my sleep for the week in just one night.

This morning, I wanted to stall in town to visit the pizza shop, so I decided I'd earn some brownie points with the parents and try to clear up some of the branches. I definitely did not think this job through, but God sent me there for another reason.

The broken, dead branch was about 10-12 feet long, and about a foot in diameter at the base. Needless to say, it weighed a lot. It was caught on a lower-hanging branch and would not budge. The next 20 minutes was full of pushing, pulling, jumping, falling down, general frustration, and momentarily giving up several times. I thought to myself, "I have nothing but my body and pure, stubborn determination. I am going to get this thing cleared out of the front yard if it's the last thing I do."

Epiphany moment: that's the attitude I needed to have with the relationship.

While part of me stubbornly wanted to fix things, I was still aware that it was fruitless, broken and dead. , Unfortunately, you can't fix dead or put splinters back together.

Moving the massive branch required a lot of work and pain, but eventually, I got it loose and realized how big it really was. I almost quit again just looking at it. But then, there was this quiet little voice that said, "One piece at a time. One step at a time."  It wasn't remotely easy to do. The sharp splinters slashed my legs open. My sweat mixed with the scratches and stung, but I kept going. As I broke off smaller branches, the burden of the trunk became light enough that I could drag it.

When I got to the gate, I had to break off even more, narrowing the trunk down so it could fit through. In that moment, I found myself thinking about how nice it would be to have tools instead of just my bare hands. That voice popped up again, saying, "You have the tools to remove the dead relationship." Boom. I remembered Mary saying that when things get tough, dig in with your "kitty cat claws and don't let go." That's what I did. It was exhausting and painful, but I dragged the trunk up the slight hill and got it into the pile.

Mission accomplished.

I went back to the front yard to attack the bottom branch and realized it is still in tact. It bent from the weight of the dead piece, but did not break.

Voice: "You are that branch."

A few quotes came to mind right about then.
   1. A line from a P!nk song: "You're not broken just bent/And we can learn to love again." (Cheesy, I know.)
   2. John 15:2: "He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more."
   3. A message Autumn sent me about the situation: "I know you can live up to your calling and make Jesus proud of your strength, resilience, grace and life of honor and purpose. Stop living below your calling! You've got stuff to do that doesn't involve this silliness. Rise up, stand up and live for the one who gave everything for you."

The cuts will heal. The stinging will stop. Strength will replace the droopiness of exhaustion.

The living branch will still be there. With the dead weight pruned away, it will grow up toward the sun again. It will be fruitful.

Cementing this point, "Stronger" by Mandisa came on the radio as I started driving back home.

I'm getting back on track. This is going to make me stronger.