Hello, friends. It’s been a while.
I decided to move my blog here to my website, because it seems a lot simpler to just have all my things in one place. Also, this part in my life feels like a new chapter of sorts. So it seems fitting to change the scenery.
A lot has happened for me in the past few weeks. I was baptized on May 29. I started a new job May 30. I went to the beach with my family for five glorious days last week. I bought a Hulu subscription today (seriously, a glorious thing I’m thankful to finally have funds for).
In some ways, these good things happening to me seem unreal. I had such a hard time for so long that sometimes I wondered if I’d ever see the sun again. But I came to a place where even if I never did, I wasn’t giving up. Because my reasons for living each day changed. I used to put my identity in many transient things. The dangerous thing, though, was that they appeared noble and moral on the outside. I wanted to make the best art I could make, make my mark on the world, change things for the better. But it became a thing in my mind, that if I didn’t somehow do something amazing, I was worthless and a failure.
I think that most desires we have start in good places, but when we get our hearts broken by this difficult world, they turn into these little monsters that put weight on our backs. As a teenager, I had pure ambition to express myself and affect people’s hearts through my story, through the truths I’ve learned. But as I grew and was hurt, the ambition became all I had left and I placed all kinds of unhealthy meaning into it.
My pain came from rejection and loss. In the span of five years or so, I lost three best friends. Three people who I loved to my core, practically considered family. They didn’t die or anything; they just left me because they grew apart from me. It was that gut-wrenching kind of loss where it feels like your stomach is free-falling and no matter how hard you sob, you can’t seem to eradicate the pain. I piled the blame for my failed friendships on my own shoulders, became convinced that I was damaged goods, felt huge amounts of shame. As someone who already has a tendency to isolate far too often, this heartache only exacerbated that problem. It made me want to give up on developing meaningful relationships and instead focus on using my talents. Thus, the once-innocent ambition turned into the monster.
And thankfully, God protected me from the monster by thwarting my efforts for success. I wrote crappy draft after crappy draft, was rejected from job after job, had zero affirmation on my work. I was invisible, I thought. But God whispered, “No, you’re hidden away with purpose. This is where I mold you.”
And so when I let everything fall apart, I was set free.
He took all my shame, listened to my every cry, gently coaxed me into new and better waters, showed me who He is and who I am. As I have learned who He is and I am, everything seems to fall into place. Worry about a life circumstance tries to creep in and I stop and remember, I won’t be let down, won’t be in lack, won’t drown. That’s not who God is, someone who lets me down. And I am not someone who worries. I am confident and courageous and victorious.
It’s odd, that in the beginning, I asked God for miracles related to my circumstances. But as I grew I realized, the greatest miracle of all was happening in me. My mind was changing. My heart was being mended. My faith was growing.
So I stand here now and am enjoying my new job more than I ever would have if I hadn’t walked that season of wilderness.
“[The wilderness] is not a barren wasteland. It is not unprotected territory. It is not void of human flourishing. The wilderness is where all the creatives and prophets and system-buckers and risk-takers have always lived, and it is stunningly vibrant. The walk out there is hard, but the authenticity out there is life.” -Brené Brown
