Sometimes a garden looks like this. Bare. Vulnerable. Boring. Seemingly lifeless. (At least compared to what it used to be). The grass is overgrowing the dying flowers from the past season. Nothing about it really stands out. If someone were to walk past, they would have had no idea of the beauty this same piece of land held only a few weeks ago. The garden has changed.
Walking past this garden made me realize that I have changed too.
I don’t think the garden looks forward to the wintertime. What can match the beauty of the garden in the first breaths of spring or when it holds all the colors of summer? When the garden is in full bloom, she knows everyone can see her undeniable beauty. The multicolor hues of the flowers and all the different species of plants it bears brings a unique kind of confidence. A kind of confidence that is not easily rocked by the chill in the air on a spring morning, or the torrential rains of summer. It’s easy to stand tall knowing that you not only hold beauty, but you are also a sanctuary for all different kinds of creatures. Pollinators come from far and wide to feast on the array of produce. There is an amazing variety of nutrients for them to carry to their homes. Little creepy-crawlies burrow in the dirt, naturally pouring into the soil so the garden can continue to grow as she should. There is no lack for the garden in these seasons, and she knows it. She holds on for dear life. She holds on until the turning of time forces her to begin to shed almost all of her color and bring her into the new thing.
Hibernation.
Maybe the garden doesn’t fear hibernation, but she definitely doesn’t like it. Where is all of her beauty when the hues of spring and the plenteousness of summer seem to fade away over night? Where do her friends the pollinators and creepy-crawlies go to hide when the winter comes? Why is she all of a sudden alone to hold the vulnerability of rest by herself?
When I passed this garden, I saw myself. The first day I saw her in this state I literally ran past, not wanting to face the realities of my life in this season. A few days later I walked and forced myself to slow down and let Abba speak to me through His creation. At first, I was appalled, remembering the beauty of the garden during the summer and recalling the conversation I had with the LORD during that time. I remembered Him showing the garden as a reflection of myself, and the beauty of Eden He placed inside of me. After our conversation I felt encouraged, confident in the colors I showed and the friends I attracted. Life was good and plenteous in my garden back then.
Until the season changed.
At first, I didn’t think the changing of seasons had affected me. I knew the change was coming – I saw it from what seemed like miles away. I knew the pattern of spring and summer eventually led way to fall and winter. My mind was fully aware of all these things, but when the change happened, I realized my heart was not. As my life turned and shifted, I convinced myself that I was okay when the flowers I had grown to know and love had begun to slowly die. When the friends of familiarity began to dissipate I told myself that it was them changing, not me. I turned a blind eye to the shifting of seasons, trying to reason away the change and only choosing to remember what once was. I didn’t slow down long enough to notice that my garden no longer needed the kind of attention I was used to; she had changed. I didn’t see the vibrancy of the green grass, I only focused on how much I missed the rest of my colors. I didn’t know I was lonely, because I convinced myself that my garden possessed the same hustle and bustle of the previous season. Did I do something wrong? Why is everything all of a sudden so bare?
Where did my garden go?
As I pondered on all these thoughts, the LORD gently began to whisper to me the beauty of a garden at rest. Sure, most of the colors were gone, but it wasn’t because of anything the garden did wrong. The colors disappeared for a time, because the plants of the garden know they need rest in order to produce color again in a coming season. Yes, the pollinators seemed to have all vanished, but not because they don’t want to be in the presence of the garden. In their nature, the pollinators know they need to take cover in the winter in order to survive to see the beauty of next spring. Have the creepy-crawlies abandoned the garden in her now naked state? No. They have merely burrowed themselves even deeper into the soil, knowing they need the protection and covering to be able to stay warm for the winter.
So why is the garden left above ground, vulnerable to the frost, exposed for the world to see? Now, the world will see not only her lack of color but also the barrenness that winter has brought to her. That can’t be right.
I stood there with Abba. My heart yearning for an explanation. I stood there, knowing that I had followed His voice, confident that I can hear Him, yet still wondering why His voice had led me here. Where did my garden go, Papa? I paused. I listened. I realized.
The garden is not out of time.
Even though it would be amazing for a garden to constantly be in bloom, everyone knows that a goal like this is unsustainable. Of course, having an endless supply of color and life, your gifts and talents being constantly recognized and displayed, would make it easy to walk in confidence. No one questions the beauty of a garden in the summer, of a person at their “peak”, walking into everything they and their family had ever dreamed about. It’s easy for the garden to know she is loved and valued when the pollinators and creepy-crawlies never leave her side. When you’re always surrounded by your tribe, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you have undeniable worth and are worthy of the relationships and opportunities summertime brings to you.
But everyone knows the garden cannot be in a season of perpetual blooming. In fact, it would be unhealthy, even impossible for her to do so. As I looked at this garden by my home, the LORD revealed to me the beauty that is in her rest. The incredible untapped potential of her soil. All of the plants within her are using the winter season to prepare. You see, the garden needs the winter season, whether she wants to admit it or not. Her prosperity in the spring and summer wholly depends on the quality of rest during the winter. Being stripped bare of her colors does not strip her of her beauty, it simply creates a different way for it to be displayed. I’m having to realize that the LORD is not maliciously stripping the warmth of summer from me. He is not intentionally draining the crucial nutrients from my soil, so I am only able to produce unimpressive grass. Abba is not tearing me away from everything I once knew and still love; He has merely ushered me into a new season. A season of rest.
Sure, rest is not always the most beautiful. A garden at rest does not draw the attention of many people, and you may even feel abandoned when your garden is in hibernation. Those around you might not understand why your garden is at rest when theirs seems to be looking more like the firsts of spring – working and working and working to produce, produce, produce. I tried to explain away my rest season to make it seem like it wasn’t as important as it is. I was ashamed of my rest and felt like I had simply given up. Am I even deserving of rest?
“You’re still so young.” “You’re not ready yet.” “But it’s so beautiful when you do this.” “Are you sure?” “Just keep going!”
The voices of others and of myself were crowding my garden. I couldn’t hear the Gardener gently whisper, “Stop”. I didn’t hear Him until I decided that His voice was the one I wanted to hear the loudest. Once I chose to let His voice win, that, my friends, is when I found peace in the rest. Have I listened perfectly every time? No, I have not. Has this rest season looked the way I expected it to look? Not at all. Have I always felt confident during my hibernation as I did while I was in full bloom? No again. But none of these things override my desire to humble myself before my Father. I know that He created me and knows me best. I know He created times and seasons, and both of these things are beyond my control.
So, I have chosen to yield to the rest, wherever it may take me (or not take me). I have made the decision to allow God to have full reign in my garden. He can put to sleep what needs to be put to sleep, even if I don’t understand why, because I know He knows what my garden needs to survive the winter. I know He will never let me get to the place where I am unrepairable, even if I can’t comprehend how He will make all the things work together.
It’s better this way. To yield. It’s what we were created for, whether we admit it or not.
This winter I am choosing to yield. People around me might not always understand it. I might not always understand it. But I know God only has my best interests in His heart. I will not be moved.
Keep growing. Keep resting. Whatever season He has you in, keep going. As we yield to Him, we will continue to become the most beautiful garden, together.
This is the phrase that I wrote in my journal this morning. I was praying and wrestling with the idea of trust, specifically trust in God, because the past few weeks have been really challenging for me. I know that I hear the voice of God, I’m confident in that, but some of the things He’s been telling me and directing me to do (or NOT to do) have seemed literally insane to me. I want to trust Him and just sit still with Him or trust Him and be held. I want to feel secure at all times. Trusting and falling is a whole other animal. I’ve been tempted (and have fallen for the temptation) to be extremely stressed, overwhelmed, and angry, haha. But as I was praying God gave me this visual, and I really felt like I needed to share it with you all. <3
I’ve never taken a hit while doing a trust fall with someone, but I have WATCHED other people fall. I’ve noticed that siblings in particular (especially boys) think letting their brother or sister fall is hilarilus. For me, watching from afar caused me to develop a lack of trust in all people, haha. So much so, that I have refused to do a trust fall with anyone for probably about 15 years. But you know what’s funny? The people who took a risk with a trust fall and fell didn’t swear off of trust falls, they just chose a different partner. Meanwhile little me, watching from a distance, wouldn’t even try because she was scared that she would pick the wrong partner.
Trust.
I’ve never liked trust… Or at least for as long as I can remember anyway. Why bother digging deep to trust if you’ve been able to handle yourself just fine on your own? Why try and change when people seem to follow the same patterns of letting you fall? It all seems to be too exhausting to try and try and try again. But what do I do if God is calling me to do a trust fall exercise with Him even though I still struggle trusting people that I can physically see?
What does a trust fall in the spirit even look like?
A trust fall can look like idiocy to some (even to other believers), but look like pure, unadulterated faith to God. And God LOVES faith. In fact, it’s impossible to please Him without it (Hebrews 11).
I was reading in one of my journals the other day from about two years ago when God was calling me to be in a covenant relationship with my now best friend. If you haven’t researched biblical covenant, I HIGHLY suggest it. It’s so important, especially for the days we are living in now. I’m no expert, but what I DO know is that cutting covenant with someone is not a game. It’s not something that you can just change your mind about and escape unscathed. Covenant is a life-long and in some cases an eternal commitment. The pure terror I felt for at least a month after I had made that agreement with her was so real, haha. I was questioning God and His long-term plan, wondering if I had actually heard Him correctly or if I had made this whole thing up in my head and now, I was stuck in relationship with some random girl who I wasn’t even going to talk to after we graduated from college. It was a trust fall. But BOY am I glad I trusted God on that one and not myself. McKenna is one of the best gifts that God has given me and all He asked of me was to have a little faith. <3
The thing about trust is that it comes with practice. It’s something that you have to build, and no stable structure was ever built overnight. The buildings that have stood for thousands of years, sometimes took hundreds of years to finish. Just look at the pyramids in Egypt or the Great Wall in China. Those are no joke! So, it’s okay if you’re not an expert free-faller after one day – just keep falling. ; )
Lot’s wife DIDN’T trust fall. She looked back when she was supposed to keep her eyes forward (Genesis 19). She didn’t trust that God had everything handled so she looked back at her old life one last time. Unfortunately, not taking that trust fall ended up costing her life. This situation kind of reminds me of when you’re doing a trust fall and you bend your knees all weird so if you fall, you’re at least a little closer to the ground. Or not keeping your arms straight beside you and instead trying to get your hands as close to the floor as possible so you can catch yourself if things go south. This might make you FEEL safe, but in all actuality, it makes catching you a lot harder. Not to mention discouraging for the person you’re supposed to be trusting.
God told me once that His love language is trust.
I love God so much. Just like I want to know what my family and friend’s love languages are, I want to know His. I want to show God, in the best way possible, that I love Him and I value our relationship. If His love language is trust, then that’s the language I want to learn to speak. And if His love language is trust, then of COURSE one of His favorite things to do are trust falls. Luckily, when we take the risk and do a trust fall with God, He is ALWAYS the catcher.
God has a perfect track record when it comes to catching. He may wait ’til the absolute last second sometimes… You may not feel His hands after it’s been a second or two of falling (which adds a whole layer of fun and excitement for the catcher, haha), but He will ALWAYS catch you.
Sometimes people do fall though, and how are we supposed to explain that? Well… with trust falls, there is some part of you that is always connected to the ground. Your feet are actually never supposed to even leave the ground. When I was thinking about this I immediately thought of Holy Spirit. He is the ground that we stand on, and the ground that’s safe for us to fall on. I think some people claim they are doing a trust fall with God but really, they just decided to run off of a cliff and were hoping that God would run to catch them. They didn’t realize that before they ran off that cliff, God had been standing there with His arms wide open ready for the most epic trust fall. We gotta work on our trust falls with God before He takes us sky diving.
Sky diving takes certification – anyone can do a trust fall ; )
Now listen…. this is not to say that God won’t throw a curve ball at you and take you sky diving before you’ve gotten the swing of a trust fall. All I’m saying is that Kingdom Life and relationship with God still takes work. God is not a genie in a bottle or a fairy with pixie dust, He craves relationship and communion, and with relationship comes the work to build trust. God builds trust with us, and we build trust in God.
Wow! God is so cool. I love when He gives me visuals to help me. God will even help you build your faith for the trust fall! He’s so cool like that.
So, here’s to more trust falls – in the spirit, and maybe even with people too ; )
So….. What are we supposed to do when God calls us to a place that we don’t understand? What are we supposed to do when what He seems to be calling us to is so much bigger than what we know we can handle? What do we do when God’s plans are bigger than us?
The phrase, “Do it afraid” keeps jumping in my head. I think it’s an old Joyce Meyer book. Those three words haunt me because they insinuate that there are things that I will simply HAVE to do that ultimately make me uncomfortable. Maybe they’ll make me look awkward. Maybe they’ll make people reconsider their relationship with me.
Is God worth being afraid for?
This question might seem a little sacrilegious but I think it’s so valid. How are we supposed to trust a Being we cannot see? How are we supposed to fully depend on Someone who is not a “feeling”? I have wrestled with these questions and more, recently. I’ve never really been the type of person to hide my feelings from God. If I have hard questions, I ask Him. If I’m mad at Him, I yell at Him. Sometimes it’s hard for me to be honest with the people around me but never with God. How can I hide my thoughts from the One who created me?
Recently, God has been challenging the way I see Him. He has been challenging the boxes I have assigned to Him and the limits I have put on myself. Life seems so much easier when you are the one who is in control of the reins, calling the shots. If you know me personally (or maybe not, I don’t know how obvious I make this, lol), you know I absolutely LOVE being in control. I love to be in the driver’s seat (literally and figuratively) because I like having my life in my own hands. I LOVE plans. Even if the occasion doesn’t *warrant* a plan, I always have a plan A, B, and C just in case someone forgets something. So naturally, allowing my sense of control to be replaced by surrender to God was (*is) not an easy road for me.
Why is it so hard to give control to the One I KNOW created me and who knows me better than I know myself?
My sophomore year of college, God started speaking to me about giving away my gift of dance. This idea still doesn’t make complete sense to me. Why would He ask me to give away something I have spent quite literally my whole life refining and perfecting?.. But now that I think about it, I believe this challenge is not simply the idea of dropping dance and taking a desk job that will make more money, lol. I think God was trying to teach me a concept. Do I love Him more than anything? Do I care more about my career as an artist than I do about seeing more people enter into His kingdom? Do I put my plans for myself above the plans God wants to download into me?
A couple of weeks ago the answer to those questions were very much not what they should have been, haha. It has been hard for me to surrender. It has been a struggle to grasp the concept of God’s love. I have questioned endlessly my place in this world and if my life would ever stop being hard. I never felt like things ever went right for me. I thought I was being diligent in pursuing the path that God wanted for me but my life seemed to have more terrible moments than joyous ones. I harbored so much bitterness for the future. I started running away from God.
I know now that God has nothing but love for me. That He alone offers the greatest care that my soul will ever receive. However, it is hard for me to articulate exactly how I came to know this. You see, about three and a half weeks ago, a plane I was on landed in Dallas, Texas. I didn’t know it yet, but I was about to go on the adventure of a lifetime. In one of my previous posts, I mentioned Zion Dance Project. Based in Dallas, this company seeks to “provide professional dancers the space and opportunity to present faith-filled art for the kingdom of God”. When I landed in Texas I was so upset, haha. NO PART OF ME wanted to experience God but I knew no matter how much I kicked and screamed He was gonna show up in a big way. He always does when we make space for Him.
I landed in Dallas, hated it. Went to orientation for Summer Series, hated it. Went to church service after orientation, hated it. I was just so upset that God dragged me all the way to Texas “for no reason”. HA! Originally, I just wanted to go to Zion because the dance training there is impeccable. It was in the middle of the summer, so I knew it would force me to move and allow me to get rid of the lazy summer body I was acquiring. Not only that, but I was going to get to live with my bestest college buddies. (Which, let’s be honest Isabella, was the main reason I applied to go anyways). So there I was, stubborn as all get out, trying as hard as I could not to let my spirit win the endless battle between it and the flesh.
Day one God wrecked me.
I guess somewhere between the beginning of orientation and the end of my first ballet class, I decided that since I had invested my OWN money, I should probably at least TRY to get something more out of Zion than just getting in shape. My spirit knew I needed to be refreshed, I just had to surrender. On the second day, I had a teacher named Hailey Summers. I will never forget something she said to describe the way she wanted us to approach a certain movement in the combination. She said something to the extent of, “This movement should look like your own version of struggle as you get closer and closer to a surrender that doesn’t feel good at the moment but that you know you need”. Wrecked. From that moment on I decided to let God move through me in whatever way He saw fit. I was done kicking, done screaming. I was exhausted. I decided to fall headfirst into Him and trust that He would be faithful to catch me and all of my broken pieces.
Falling became fun. I started to see how much of myself I could surrender and watch how God would meet me. I started being bold and waited to see how He would show up. He of course, never disappointed me. During the first week I was at Zion, I felt like He was rearranging my soul. I felt like I was truly experiencing the sensation of being “born again”. I had no idea what He was doing or how He was doing it, all I knew was that by the end of the week I felt completely clean. The shame, depression, anxiety, and fear that griped my heart for so many years suddenly felt so far away. The poor self-image and terrible habits I had regarding my body felt disgusting instead of comforting. I was new. It was amazing. But then I was left with the burning question…
What NOW God?
The clean feeling was amazing. I had never been so full of joy, so light. I felt incredible but there was something missing. Something in the depths of my soul craved a new definition. A new meaning. A new purpose. And I didn’t have it. I knew the only person who could help me was God, so I asked. I figured as He did in the first week, my answer would come somewhat immediately, and then I would be able to continue to receive further confirmation and revelation as the week went on. But as Aslan tells Lucy in the second Chronicles of Narnia movie, “Things never happen the same way twice, dear one”.
God did not answer my prayer right away. I struggled, Monday through Sunday, through rehearsals, sermons, tech rehearsal, dress rehearsal, and three and a half shows feeling completely naked and vulnerable. Why would God leave me in a place of such vulnerability? If He knew I was lacking confidence, why didn’t He hurry and re-define me right when I asked? I’ll tell you why. I had to prove to Him that I was comfortable being at the end of myself. I had to show Him that I would go to any lengths to hear what He had to say to me. I had to surrender.
While I was at Zion I realized something. I realized that I always give up on God when I should be doing the opposite. When things get hard I clam up and go into control freak mode. Why? Why do I not allow the God of the universe to tackle the things that swallow me whole? For years I created the habit to only trust God when it was convenient for me. To only follow when I could easily see a way out of whatever situation I was in. Trusting only when I was at the top of the mountain, never in the valleys. This led me down the road of suffering from horrible depression for almost ten years of my life and crippling anxiety along with it. I went through hard things very much alone because I convinced myself that I was the only person who could get me out of tough situations. I couldn’t trust anyone. Not my parents, not my siblings, not my teachers, not my friends, and not God. Just me. And that was a very lonely road. A road I was determined to walk on until I just couldn’t anymore. I was so tired. Exhausted. I needed a way out that didn’t involve me holding myself up any longer.
I had finally gotten to a point where I was tired enough that I was willing to try something else.
God was right there waiting for me. When it came to our very last evening show for Summer Series I was completely exhausted. I don’t even think I can justifiably describe it to you. I knew that Isabella Hunter in all of her glory would not be able to walk onto that stage, much less dance, without some serious help. And that was exactly where God needed me to be. My friend Katherine told me earlier that day that, “the weaker you are the better”, and man I felt it. I was weak. I was weak and I hated it. But being weak allowed me to really put God to the test. I told Him straight up that I would not be able to do ANYTHING without His help for the last show.
And boy did He deliver.
My friends noticed that I wasn’t doing well. I don’t even remember how many people prayed for me before the show even started. I was given so much intentional love and care which was difficult for me to receive but I forced myself. I forced myself to see and notice how God was coming through for me and accept His help. As I miraculously made it through two out of three pieces in the concert I was reaching my end. I knew that God was getting me through but I didn’t know if I could physically stand up, much less dance for seven more minutes. I was sitting with one of my friends in the dressing room attempting to muster the strength to finish putting on my costume, when another girl from the program came and sat next to me. I was not really able to talk to her during the two-week intensive because we were in different classes and were not in the same pieces, but she had stood out to me from the very beginning and I had been wanting to speak with her. She sat next to me and I thought was just going to pat me on the shoulder and say, “You got this, Bella” but she met me with so much more.
God used this friend to breathe new life into me. He used her to pour into my spirit what I had been asking Him to say to me all week. He used her as a vessel to teach me how He saw me. To tell me that He DID see me, and He was proud of me. God used my new friend to give me a name for this new life I had been feeling during the two weeks. He restored me. I started bawling all of my stage makeup off. I couldn’t help it. God was literally answering my prayers AND sustaining me through a two-hour show at the same time. He was showing me His love in a big way because He knew I had humbled myself enough to receive it.
God came through.
There is honestly so much more to this story but I am grateful God has allowed me to process this part of it with all of you. I feel so complete. I have indescribable joy. GENUINE joy. Joy that I have never felt before. I am EXCITED to be put into situations that scare me and exhaust me because I know when I am at my absolute weakest God will show me His overwhelming strength. He is good. He IS good. He is GOOD. I’m convinced.
That’s all for today folks. I am so honored that God has given me the opportunity to write and share with you all again. It feels great to be back.
This is an interesting week. I don’t really have a plan of what I’m going to write about but I didn’t want to leave the internet empty, haha. I think that I’m just going to go over some thoughts that I have been having the past couple of weeks that I think are important to consider.
Forgiveness.
I know that I have talked about this a lot already, but I don’t think this message will ever get old. Over the past couple of weeks I have observed my country collapse under the weight of bitterness and unforgiveness. I have heard the frustrated cries of people who have been wronged and the hurt that is very real and valid for them to feel. I have seen the hate in their eyes. I have felt the anger through my phone screen.
I know what it feels like to hold onto unforgiveness. I know what it feels like to be wronged by the people who should be the ones keeping you safe. I have felt bitterness. I have felt betrayal. All of it really sucks. No one likes to be let down. No one likes to feel like they are insignificant.
But what would you do if people never changed?
I have been thinking a lot about our country. I have been thinking about how it is filled with people. It makes me kind of chuckle when people seem like they are surprised or shocked when insane things happen. Human beings haven’t changed one bit since Adam and Eve left the garden. We have been having the same problems for thousands of years. There is nothing new under the sun. I guess my point is, if nothing in this world ever changed would you be able to find satisfaction? Or, if laws were passed, petitions were signed, and all the big bad people were put in jail, would you feel complete?
I fear that many people in our country right now, Christians even, are looking to find their peace in a jail sentence. They are looking for other people to validate their pain. There are many people who are so stubborn in their hurt that they are scared to live a life free of that.
I was there too.
When I was going through my struggles with depression I thought that living like that was normal. I thought that I was just going to have to live the rest of my life being depressed. Honestly, it was comforting for me. People were catering to my needs because they knew I was fragile. I wasn’t really pushed to seek out healing for months. I was actually scared of living without depression. It was keeping me going. Being sad became my safe place even though I knew it had the potential to kill me. I was so scared to get help because I was scared of all of the things I would have to uncover in order to be free from it.
This is how I think a lot of people are living with unforgiveness. It’s easy to be mad at people. It’s easy to be bitter. It’s easy to be petty. ESPECIALLY when you and your ancestors or predecessors or whomever have a very valid excuse. Life isn’t perfect and humans are not afraid to show their ugly side. Sometimes I think it is simpler to just stay mad at someone instead of going through the mental battle of forgiving them.
This message isn’t very popular, I understand that. But if everything were to be a utopia tomorrow, would you lose your purpose? Is your identity in your fight?
I am scared for the people in this country. I am scared that fighting for change will turn into fighting our neighbors. I’m scared that fighting for justice will turn into seeking revenge. When will the fight be over? Will we be in a perpetual fight for freedom? What will bring the satisfaction that leads to an end?
I think it’s funny when people think that I am uneducated. I think it’s funny when people think that I don’t understand the atrocities that have taken place in my country. I have had conversations with people who make me feel like I’m some lost puppy who hasn’t found her vomit to go back to and eat. I think it would really kill some people if they heard me say that I didn’t hold on to the hurts of “my people”. It’s not like I suddenly forgot that my great-great grandpa was a literal slave. It’s not like I never realized that my grandparents, and even my aunts, were alive before the time when black people had civil rights in this country. I will never forget. In fact, I will teach my children about it. But what good would it do for me to be at constant war with everyone who didn’t look like me or who didn’t seem like an “ally”? What good would it do me to walk into a room and have my first instinct be to look around and see if there were people who looked like me in order to find security?
I’m not committing blasphemy. I care deeply for people around me, and any one who knows me can say that. I have always had a heart for people who are less fortunate than me or who feel like they have been forgotten. I think that there are issues in our country that are very real and need to be addressed. But at what cost will we finally come to complete justice and equity? Will we have to lose our peace? Will we have to sacrifice our joy? Will we have to forego relationships just because someone doesn’t look like us?
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe forgiveness isn’t enough to fix this impossible situation…
When I was reading my Bible the other day, I came across a short story in Matthew of Jesus healing a blind man. It said that Jesus was “moved with compassion” so He healed the man. Compassion drove Him to take restorative action. When I scroll on social media I rarely see posts doused in compassion. I rarely see truth that has been soaked in love. Honestly, it makes me really sad. I could be naïve. There is probably more to life than just preaching compassion, forgiveness, and mercy. But something just isn’t sitting right with me, and I’m more than ready to talk about it.
When George Floyd died I was heartbroken. I was confused. I didn’t know how to process it. As I would lay in my bed I would think about the whole situation over and over again. I started thinking about what was going through that police officer’s mind. But then I realized something.
There is no difference between me and that police officer.
Now I know what you might be thinking.. “Oh no! Isabella, that man is a racist fool who deserves a life sentence in jail! He has no right to be walking the streets and you are nothing like him.” Well okay… but is he not still human? Was he not just displaying the behavior of those who have fully given in to their sin nature?
Now I want you to pause and think for a second. I am in no way defending this man, even though I don’t think he should be dehumanized for his actions. He was obviously grossly out of line and needs to be disciplined accordingly. But guys, are we all not sinners? Don’t we all have darkened hearts that are in need of light? Does God not view all sin as sin? What is the difference between a small child who steals candy from the grocery store and a man who takes someone else’s life? Obviously, the consequences are different, but won’t both of those individuals be separated from God forever?
I feel like our priorities aren’t right. PLEASE don’t misinterpret what I’m saying. If someone commits a heinous crime they should be disciplined. Sin deserves judgement. But what is all of the punishment and law changes and hate talk going to do if people’s hearts aren’t changed? Is not our job as Christians to preach the gospel to all nations and to all PEOPLE? This might be a controversial statement… but I think that dying and going to hell is much worse than anything that can happen to us on earth. Dying without telling even the most “undeserving” people about the love of Christ is a greater burden to bear than dealing justice on earth.
Again, I could be very wrong. I could not be taking into account all of the systems that take away people’s freedom to simply live. Maybe there are different ways to interpret scripture and maybe I don’t know enough about the Bible yet. But I just can’t shake this feeling. I can’t shake the feeling that we are so focused on fixing our life here on earth that we are not focusing on bring more people into eternity in heaven.
If someone doesn’t hire you because of the way that you look, how long will that stay with you? If someone says an off comment about your hair, how long will you keep replaying that in your mind? If someone calls you a derogatory term just to get a reaction, will you play their game? If someone says that you are fragile because of the way you were raised, will you take that on as a part of your identity?
Who is defining us people??? Who are we letting control our hearts and minds?
I’m at a loss for words now. I have a lot of things on my mind, and while this post lacks cohesiveness, I hope that a piece of my heart came through.
I’m fine with being wrong. I don’t really mind actually. But I do think that we can be a little bit better.
I think a lot of people overcomplicate Christianity.
But at the same time, I feel like there are so many steps and commandments and promises and lifestyle changes that it can feel complicated sometimes. I also think that the different ways Christians interpret the Bible can lead to a lot of division which is most certainly complicated. There have been MANY times where I have questioned what I believe and all of the rules and regulations God seems to put on His children. I have walked away from Him a lot of times because I felt overwhelmed by my lack of perfection being so close to His holiness. So, I thought it would be a good thing to talk about this now while everyone is in a “battle of ethics” and trying to figure this whole life thing out.
I have believed in God for as long as I can remember. I pretty much popped out of the womb in church. I never remember a time where my family has had a season of not going to church at least twice every week, and being “too tired” was rarely an excuse not to go. As I grew up in church I always found myself in leadership roles or being favored by my Sunday School teachers. I still walk around church and people say, “Hey Hunter girl!” with a huge smile, like my last name is synonymous with being that one kid who grew up in church that everyone knows.
As I got into middle and high school I started to resent my reputation. I started to feel like the kids around me thought my life was perfect (which it pretty much was), I never had any real problems (which I kind of really didn’t), and that I was naïve and super homeschooled (which I definitely was lol). I always knew the answers to questions. I always brought my Bible and took extensive notes. I always paid attention and I was never on my phone during service (as much as is expected for a goody two-shoes teenager).
I felt like I built myself into a cage of Christian perfection and I didn’t have the keys to let myself out.
When I got to college I just busted the door down.
I loved the freedom that I experienced at college. I loved being able to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I wore whatever clothes I wanted and no one was gonna run and tell my mom (@ my sister.. sorry mom). But the biggest freedom that I experienced was that I FINALLY didn’t have to go to church.
I was free.
No more unrealistic standards from the church people who knew my family. No more pressure from my family to wake up on Sunday morning and drag my butt to church. No accountability because my friends didn’t have that authority yet. Finally, I was free from the pressure of being a Christian.
As you can imagine, my life immediately became much better. No, not at all actually. My freshman year of college I was the most depressed I have ever been in my entire life. Every, single, day, I woke up sad. It was exhausting. I had never felt anything like that in my life. I would always joke with my friends that I was gonna climb up to the roof and jump off my dorm building, but I knew I wasn’t kidding. I thought about it every night before I fell asleep. I literally wanted to die. I almost came to the point of writing a suicide note… It was not a good time.
PAUSE: This is why I will never stop saying that I am eternally grateful for my friends at school.
I think if God didn’t place me at a Christian school, and if my roommates weren’t the encouraging, sweet, dependable, Jesus-loving people they are, I would not be here today. I will never doubt the power of relationship ever again. Anyways.
It was not a good time. I tried to get out of my depression by myself. I tried to go to therapy (even though it took me almost a full school year to drag myself there), I tried to sleep it away, I tried to eat it away, but I eventually just settled for being the sad girl of my friend group and left it at that.
I didn’t want to talk to God about it because I knew I was in the mess I was in because I rejected Him.
It’s really so crazy to me looking back on my journals during this time in my life. At some points I was literally removing myself as far as I possibly could from my faith, and then I would jump around in my prayer journal saying that I was going to start depending on God. I don’t really understand what was happening in my brain, I just know that I was really confused. I would drag myself to campus ministries every once in a while out of habit and obligation and also so that I could keep hiding my struggles from the people around me. I didn’t want to have to explain what was going on in my head, and I wasn’t even comfortable talking to anyone because I was just a baby freshman.
I remember one time during my freshman year when I actually went to church with my friends. I remember that I went because I wanted to make sure that people still thought I was a Christian so that I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. There’s a very distinct crowd of church goers and non-church goers at my school and I didn’t want anyone to look down on me. I remember going through the church doors and immediately feeling like I was home. I felt like I was home and was ashamed of myself all at the same time. I was ashamed that I was bringing all of my sadness an rebellion into a space with a bunch of happy Jesus people.
But then I started worshipping.
I had forgotten what it felt like. The freedom that is found in worship. I forgot how much I loved to sing and how much peace it brought me. I definitely almost cried. It was so beautiful… I felt like all of the shame and guilt that I had been feeling just washed off of me.
But then I didn’t go to church for the rest of the year.
I guess I got used to my “sleep in on Sunday” routine and didn’t actually want to sacrifice my routine for my peace. So, I just went back to being super sad and doing a bunch of other stuff to take my health away from me.
The summer after my freshman year I went to the Zion Dance Project intensive. I talked about it a little in my second blog, but it is a Christian dance intensive for pre-professional and professional dancers. I have no idea why I decided to go to this intensive (because I did not like Jesus at this point at all), but thank God I did. I think going to this intensive literally saved my life. I was surrounded by strong Christians, both in the studio and at the house I was living in. I was challenged everyday by speakers and friends to learn more about God and be confident in the purpose that He had for me. I was just so excited to learn more about God and to share that with my friends. It was so amazing.
You would think after this summer of transformation that I would go into my sophomore year of school all strong and confident-like but that is false, haha. I think my sophomore year of college was one of the most anxious times in my life. When I first drove onto the campus in early August anxiety latched itself onto me. The first week of classes when I decided to not participate in a certain ensemble (see my second post!) I became best friends with shame. Two weeks into fall semester I had my first panic attack (which is not fun at all). And the whole semester I was just kinda going wild in the boy department. It was not pretty. And guess what? I still wasn’t going to church.
This is the part that really shook me.
I will never forget. Towards the end of the first semester, I was sitting in my friend’s room and I just started spilling my guts about what I had been feeling for the past year and a half. I was telling them that I didn’t even know if I wanted to be a Christian anymore. I didn’t feel like a Christian. I didn’t even like God. (My REAL predicament was that I wanted to have this hilariously ridiculous relationship with a guy and I was trying to justify my guilt away. But that is another story entirely.) I remember asking, “Why do I even have these standards for myself if I don’t even want to believe in God?”. I was pretty far gone.
I was glad that I at least knew how to play the Christian game and say the right things for people to not think twice about the actual state of my faith. I knew people thought I was sad, but at least they thought I loved Jesus and I was sad. I think it was at this point when I realized that I actually hated myself. I hated the way that I was living. I hated feeling so anxious all the time.
I hated that I was so far away from God.
Was I actually happier? Was I actually better off? Did I actually feel freer than I did when I was in relationship with God?
Nope.
I was sick of being miserable. I was sick of trying to prove my point to God. If I was trying to prove a point, I proved His. Life without God just sucks.
My past two years at school compared to this summer also prove that point. I was so tired of my own solutions that I finally ran to the only Person who I knew could fix the mess I had made of myself. The only Person I knew who wouldn’t turn to shame to adapt my behavior but would simply magnify Himself in my situation.
God is literally good.
Maybe I didn’t do the best conveying it, but the last four months have been the best months of my life. Even though at the beginning of quarantine I was dealing with anxiety regarding my online schooling and not getting to finish the school year like I expected, I have come to perfect peace. Now, I probably have gone the longest reading the Bible every day than I have in the past three years. I literally just want to please God, because I realize that pleasing myself only brings sickness and dysfunction. God isn’t scared of my mess because He never even left as I was making it. The only times where I felt separation from God was when I initiated that separation.
So now, here I am. Sitting on my couch in Detroit. Getting ready to head into my junior year of college in about five weeks. I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t scared. Last summer when I was going into my sophomore year I wasn’t expecting to face crippling anxiety and then forget about God, but I think this year will be different. I KNOW it will be. This summer I’ve actually allowed God to create my heart into a clean one instead of keeping our relationship superficial. I’ve given up control because I know that when I put myself in control I really mess things up.
I also know that me trusting in God doesn’t mean that I’m never going to struggle again. Jesus actually promises that we will have trouble. But that doesn’t give me an excuse to be afraid because He has already overcome the world.
Starting this blog has helped me in so many ways. Some people may think that me putting all of this intimate information online is stupid or risky. I mean, it hasn’t always been easy to open my computer and write things. Lots of weeks I don’t even know what to write about until a day before I’m scheduled to post. But I am healing. God is helping me. I’m not afraid of my past because I know that God holds my future. I know that I have my story for a purpose.
Sure, there are a lot of rules and commandments in the Bible. Sure, it’s not fun all of the time. But no good parent lets their children do whatever they want. We are in a perpetual state of growing up. That means that we will never stop learning. We will never stop being God’s kids. I have found so much comfort in the fact that God literally only wants the best for me, even if I don’t understand His logic. And even if God wasn’t real and Christianity is a total farce, I am living my life in a way that provides me constant peace, joy, mended relationships, and gives me the tools to love people well.
So there it is. Some of the things that I have been learning the past two years. I guess a part of my testimony? Something that I really want to start sharing more with people.
I’m not perfect, I’m not done making mistakes, but I love Jesus.
This is my sweet grandma giving me a bath. Yes, that’s me lol
My thoughts on race, identity, and the gospel.
My head has been racing for weeks straight and I am still trying to translate everything that I am feeling into well constructed sentences. When I first went to write this post about a month ago I was only fueled by anger and frustration. There was a lot of hurt in my heart, and I was so overwhelmed by all of the hurt in the world that I couldn’t think clearly. I never want to communicate out of anger, so I had to wait until I had multiple conversations with God, my family, and my friends so I could begin to efficiently discuss my thoughts and feelings.
Disclaimer: You may not agree with everything that I say, and honestly I’m perfectly okay with that. I just want to take the opportunity to speak my truth as best as I can in this current moment.
Growing up in Detroit, Michigan I think is a personality trait. We have such a beautifully distinct culture here. I love my city. I always have and I always will. I honestly wouldn’t trade growing up here for the world, and it has helped shape the person that I am today. I am able to see the beauty in its broken pieces. All of the abandoned houses, graffiti filled bridges, little black children walking home alone after school, the screeching tires and house parties blasting their music into all hours of the night is comforting to me in a way. I am so thankful that this is the place that my parents chose to raise me and my siblings and I say the name of my city with great pride.
When I was in elementary school, I was outside playing with two of my childhood neighbors. It was already hard for me to relate to them because I grew up homeschooled and they went to public school, but we were kids. Kids only see what they have in common and are taught their differences by the adults and society around them. Anyways. One day we were standing in front of my neighbor’s house. My two little friends were talking about what it was like to grow up in Detroit. They were both finding solace in the fact that they grew up, “in the hood”. I didn’t want to be left out of their conversation so I quickly added, “Oh yeah! I’m from the hood too!”. They both immediately started laughing at me and snickering to themselves. One of them spoke up and said, “Girl, you are NOT from the hood”.
That’s where it started. My identify crisis was now in full swing.
Up until that point all I knew about demographics was what I observed on my own. I noticed that when I was driving around my city I would see broken down houses and when I was in bed at night I’d hear gunshots sometimes. I noticed that when I drove further north I would see children who were allowed to walk around their neighborhood alone because their parents had no doubts that they would be safe. I noticed that when I went to visit my mom’s parents there weren’t any people at church or in stores that looked like me. I didn’t think twice about it. It was my life. It wasn’t until my friend’s remark that I started to reevaluate what I thought about where I was raised. My two friends and I were raised on the exact same street block. How come their experiences growing up were so different than my own? Why did they grow up “in the hood” and I did not?
It wasn’t until recently that I realized my parents raised me in a painstakingly different way than the children around me. Lots of times people joke about homeschooled kids “living in a bubble”, but that was literally my childhood. My parents went through extensive lengths to make sure that my siblings and I only saw what they wanted us to see and hear the things that they wanted us to hear. There were a few times in my teenage and adult life when I thought my parents shielding me had been a disservice, but now I am truly so grateful.
One disservice that I thought my parents had made on my account was not raising me immersed in black culture. I lived right in the city of Detroit, I had half of a black family for crying out loud. Why was it so hard for me to identify with the black kids around me? When I was at family reunions or birthday parties I rarely felt out of place because I was with my family. But why was relating with my black friends so different? As I grew up, I felt as if I had to learn to be black instead of just existing as a person. There were movies and tv shows I didn’t watch, popular music I didn’t listen to, and jargon that I had no idea existed until I looked it up on Google or tried to use Shazam without my friends noticing. Not being privy to the things that my black friends grew up knowing was really hard for me at many points in my life. I felt like I didn’t fit in with my own skin, and there were many people who weren’t afraid to point that out to me. I learned to just bury the hurt when my black friends would look at me weird when I didn’t know the lyrics of a song “all black kids” grew up listening to. There were times that I tried not to cry or lash out in anger when people took my black card away or said that I was just “white”. I had so many feelings that I didn’t know how to navigate and I didn’t feel comfortable talking to anyone about them because I didn’t think anyone would really understand.
The reality is, I grew up surrounded by a lot of white people. NOT because my parents are anti-black, that’s dumb. My dad is literally a dark brown man, people. I grew up taking intense ballet lessons and being homeschooled, and black people are definitely a minority in those spaces. This fact has actually never truly bothered me, it’s just widened my perspective. I’ve been confused sometimes, but never mad at it. There were many points in my life when I would look around a room and realize that I was the only black person, but I would quickly move on and just do my best to build relationships. I didn’t want people to treat me differently because of the amount of melanin I had, so I extended that same grace to them.
I guess this is the part of the blog where I should clarify that I’m biracial. My mom and her side of the family are white, while my dad and his side of the family are black. I have never felt so blessed to be who I am more than right now. I feel like I have the unique perspective of being able to look at our nation’s situation as a whole and see the value in both “sides”. It has also made me realize that I cannot hold my identity in the color of my skin or the people that I was raised around. Trying to identify with both of my cultures equally has been really exhausting for me, especially during this time. My confidence has been fluctuating almost uncontrollably.
A relationship with God is the only thing that is getting me through this time sanely.
It has been affirmed in me the last four weeks more than ever before that I cannot place the entirety of my identity in my skin tone. I also can’t let the people around me determine my identity as it best suits them. The only foundation that will never move is Christ. The only Being whose opinion will never change is God’s. For me, that is the biggest comfort I have ever been afforded. I also have never felt more at peace in my life than right now, while I watch the entire world churning in turmoil. It has also begged me to ask the question –
Where the heck is God?
The pain that is constantly in front of my eyes from people who have been wronged and from people who take other’s pain on as their own has been almost unbearable for me. At first, I had no idea where to put this pain. I wanted to listen to all of the stories around me but I was so incredibly overwhelmed. I wanted to learn all the lingo and terminology, but that just created more confusion for me. Where was God in all of the madness? What was He saying about the racism and injustice in our world?
I just started reading the Bible.
The more hurt I was feeling the more I read the Words of God to find solace and comfort. The more questions I had the more I sought the face of God. I realized that the only solution to the problems that we have as a nation and world would be the pure Gospel of Jesus Christ. I started listening to podcasts and reading articles regarding the social and political issues in America today from people who went to the Bible for answers and guidance. I wanted to immerse myself in truth and find my foundational thoughts on current events through a strictly Biblical lens. I was feeling fantastic about all of my newfound knowledge. I was amazed to discover the relevancy of the scripture as it pertained to our world today. God is just so amazing. I was having serious discussions with my family and close friends and basing my thought structures on the sound wisdom God had placed around me. I was so confident that the Gospel was the only definitive answer to the totality of the world’s problems, that I started asking questions from my view point and posting things that supported my views.
Lots of people disagreed.
I was so confused. I had been reading the Bible and listened to Biblical scholars dialogue about the world today. I had purposely sought out viewpoints I knew I would disagree with so that I could be more empathetic towards the people around me. I wanted to push God to the forefront of whatever issues were arising. Why did I feel like Christians specifically were fighting me?
My aunt gave me a lot of perspective as we were talking this through the other day. I started crying almost immediately as I was overwhelmed with everything that I had been learning and seeing over the past few weeks. There are so many things about how the world works that I still don’t understand. She was talking to me about the immense and real hurt that people were going through that I simply could not grab hold of. She told me stories about things she had seen in her career as an educator and about my great grandfather. All of the layers of deep rooted hurt and pain made me come to a greater understanding of the outspoken people around me. I started to realize why the black community was in so much pain. I was just left with the burning question.
Why has this pain not directly affected me?
I have been racking my brain for stories of personally encountering racism. I have been constantly mulling over my life in its entirety searching for micro aggressions. I have been trying to figure out how white privilege affects my life as a mixed person. But I’m coming up short. I have been searching for reasons to be upset with ignorant white people but I can’t think of anything. I’ve been trying to identify with the fear of police officers but I have none. I’ve been trying to objectively think about systemic racism and have been utterly confused. If it is truly systemic, which means that no one is exempt from its effects, why hasn’t it gotten to me?
It’s honestly been really troubling. I feel like I’m a failure of a black person because I don’t believe that I have ever been oppressed. I feel upset as a white person when people say that the construct of “whiteness” is the only reason why our world is in shambles. I feel confused about all of the other minorities who live and function in my country but have not had entire global movements speaking about their own past oppressions. I feel hurt when I see people chanting, “F*ck the police” because my uncle has served as a police officer for years. I feel like a failure of an activist because I get upset when others blindly and angrily disrespect authority. I get confounded as a Christian when I observe my brothers and sisters supporting ideologies that are so anti-Christ and Biblical knowledge. And then I remind myself of the real root issue in our world today.
Sin is controlling us.
Lots of people don’t like talking about sin. Lots of people want to think that it’s their way or the highway and pride renders them incapable of listening to a contrary thought. I have been concerned with people (Christians especially) being so adamant about changing policies and electing different officials to run our country when sin and separation from God is what is causing all of our mess in the first place. WHY are we telling ourselves that the gospel is insufficient in and of itself to create the lasting change we want to see in our world today?
I reposted an article a couple days ago that outlined how Christians should be approaching this cultural movement and the loud (secular) voices leading it. There were people who really agreed with the article which built my confidence in the belief of my stance. But then there were also people who really let me know that they did not agree. I have actually had a few conversations with people who felt like my recent sentiments were just a sorry excuse for Christians to be inactive and keep sitting on our couches doing nothing. That honestly could not be further from the truth, and it was devastating that people thought that way about me.
I believe that God has called us to be a voice for the poor and oppressed. I believe that Christians should be the leaders in caring for the less fortunate and forgotten people in our society. I think that it would be amazing if churches started scholarship funds for children and families who could not financially support higher education of any kind. But I guess my main question is, why is the church approaching things the exact same way as the world but just sticking the word “Jesus” at the end of the sentence? Why is there no obvious difference between what my non-Christian friends are posting on their stories and what my Christian friends are posting on their stories? Where is the voice of the church?
I also think it’s kind of controversial in this day and age to say that God is the only one who can exact true judgement. It is not our job to seek and deliver vengeance, it’s the Lord’s. Humans are incapable, in most cases, to be unbiased in any way. We can never see or understand the full picture. Our ideologies, without guidance from the Bible, are always flawed. We will never understand true justice like God can. He knows all things because He created all things.
Humans will never be able to fix spiritual problems, only God can do that.
So am I being insensitive by saying that the Gospel is the only answer in times like these? Maybe I am.. But if we are talking about intersectionality, I have the voice of a black woman so I can’t be suppressed. (I don’t think Critical Race Theory is Biblical btw, that was a joke). My voice matters too, even if it’s not “on trend”. God created me the way that He did for an exact purpose and reason He had in mind. My mission is to find that purpose and walk in it. My life goal is to not be afraid of sharing what I believe is Biblical truth. I don’t want to be ashamed in what I believe in and I refuse to be.
Does that mean I’m going to stop being empathetic? Absolutely not. Does that mean that I’m going to stop listening to voices that I don’t agree with? Goodness no. Does that mean that I’m never going to have conversations that make me uncomfortable and challenge my beliefs? No again. Does that mean that I am content to sit on my couch until this all “blows over”? Nope.
My great commission is to bring Christ to my world. My identity rests in the fact that I am a child of God. I love the two cultures that I was brought up in and I believe they have value, but that is not what ultimately defines me. Every single human being that I have known, currently know, or will come to know in the future are image bearers of God and I will always treat them as such, no matter what their attitude is towards me. I will always respect those in authority, no matter what I think of them (because government is ordained by God believe it or not), and if I have a qualm of any sort I will bring it to them directly or do what I need to do during election season.
Our world’s issue today is that we have an abundance of hearts that are hurting. If someone has the root of hate or bitterness or even racism in their heart, legislation or jailtime won’t make it go away. Wishing death on them won’t make it go away either. That could possibly mean that they go to actual hell. Do you really truly want that?
Only God can change hearts.
It is imperative that we look within ourselves and take the log out of our own eye before we try to get the speck out of our neighbor’s. Sorry to break the news to you, but humans are not God. We can only look to God for guidance and direction. It is actually our honor to do so. Only God can bring true justice and reconciliation, and we (Christians) are called to be one unified body reconciled to God and God alone. We need to take action. Of course we need to take action. But said action needs to be based on faith and not feeling. On God’s Word and not the suggestions of man. We need to reflect the character of Christ, not just take on the persona of the world because it’s the easiest thing to do…
These are some thoughts that I have about America’s current situation. I am aware that I still have a lot to learn, but I thought that it was time to share my thoughts. Like I said in my very first paragraph, I refuse to communicate out of anger. I genuinely want to learn from everyone that I come in contact with and ultimately be a light for Christ. This certainly does not encompass my sentiments in their entirety, but I hope that I adequately shed a light on my perspective.
You can find my email in the “Want to get in touch?” page on my website. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns I would be honored to hear from you.
Don’t be afraid to make change, kids. Don’t be afraid to preach the gospel.
I’ve had big dreams since I was a little girl. Most of these dreams involved becoming a ballerina and being on stage forever and ever and ever. But what happens when you let your dreams die?
As I grew up I learned quickly that I needed to become more rational. I would speak with my teachers and watch videos of dancers and realize that there were hard things that I would have to overcome in order to reach my dream of professional dancing. There was a time that I thought I would have to let that little girl down because I didn’t think I had the fortitude to reach my goals. There were other things that I stopped dreaming about too. I stopped dreaming about falling in love and getting married and having children because most of the relationships that I have had were not healthy. What was the point in dreaming of a perfect relationship for myself when all of the candidates that were around me were not up to my standard? If I really want to be an artist, what is the point of dreaming about living in a gigantic beautiful home somewhere in the country when most artists barely make enough money to live well?
Should I lower my standards of dreaming? Should I settle for less than I know is actually in me? Should I dumb down my light and my gifts in order to fit the situations and expectations of the people around me?
Heck. No.
This summer I have been talking to God a lot about the dreams that I have. I have a special “dream notebook” that I got myself like three years ago. It’s funny to me that of the hundreds of pages of empty space and potential for dreams, I have only written in about ten pages. Why is that? Because I was scared to let myself go.
I have this fear of imperfection. Along with this fear comes the fear of letting people down. I was afraid that if I made my dreams known to people who were close to me and they didn’t actually manifest, it would speak poorly of myself and my work ethic. I didn’t want people to think that I didn’t reach my goals because of something that I did or didn’t do, so I did what was most rational. I stopped dreaming.
Back in my blog post about authenticity, (go back and read it if you haven’t yet!) I discussed the importance of not sharing your innermost thoughts and sincere feelings with people who were not for you. It is imperative to share your dreams with people who will build you up and fill you with hope. I wrote that because I was remembering a time when one of my most sincere dreams got shattered in a matter of seconds.
I was driving with an adult figure who had a lot of influence on me throughout my early childhood and as a teenager. I was about 14 at the time and we were travelling cross-country with each other. I had my little school computer with me (yay being home schooled lol) and I was listening to my favorite songs on iTunes. I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston came on and I was so excited. When I was 14 Whitney Houston was my absolute favorite artist and I listened to like three of her songs on repeat constantly. I have always loved to sing, and I couldn’t help myself when this song came on. I just wanted to soar through the stars like Whitney. I remember just singing a little bit of the song under my breath because it was night time and I didn’t want to disturb my driver. After I finished singing my little chunk of the song, I heard the person I was travelling with laugh to her husband and say, “She absolutely just butchered that song”.
Right then my singing dream died.
From that time when I was a baby freshman in high school, until even right now as a junior in college, I am still terrified of singing in front of people. That unintentional comment completely destroyed my confidence in the voice that God had given me. Every time I had a dream of being a leader on the worship team at church, singing on Broadway, or singing a duet with an artist that I loved, I quickly reminded myself that those dreams would never be possible. Why invest in voice lessons if you can’t sing in the first place? I would think back to the time when I was 14 in the back seat of a car somewhere in Kentucky when my voice was laughed at, and tell myself to stop dreaming.
I also had a dream of being a professional ballet dancer. I still love ballet and it was the first form of dance that I really fell in love with. I had dreams of dancing with a lot of the major ballet companies in America like most little ballerinas. I had phases of wanting to dance with the New York City Ballet, the American Ballet Theatre, Houston Ballet, Dance Theatre of Harlem… the list goes on and on. Ballet was what was right in front of me during my dance training so it was a huge part of my dream. As I was growing up, I never thought twice about the struggles of becoming a professional ballet dancer. When I was around 16 I had two guest teachers, whom I knew well, take me to a back studio and ask about what I wanted to do after I graduated from high school. I told them without hesitation that I wanted to either join a ballet company right out of high school or join a second company to further refine my technique before I got hired. This was completely logical to me and was the only dream that I had ever really had when it came to my dance career. But all of my plans changed in a matter of seconds yet again when my two teachers exchanged worried glances and almost started snickering. I realized that they didn’t believe that I could reach my goal of professional ballet and I instantly retracted that dream. I exchanged it for shifting to an attitude of only refining my technique until I figured out what was possible for me to accomplish in my artform.
In both of these examples, I let someone take my ability to dream away from me. At those tender childhood ages I learned to stop myself from using my imagination and fantasizing about what I wanted to do and be when I grew up. But I realized that I didn’t want to live like that any more. I was lying to myself and robbing myself of a full life by submitting myself to the will of influential people who let me down. In order to turn my thought process around there were some practical things that I had to do.
Forgive.
This word really sucks to me.
There were a lot of times in my life where I thought that I had forgiven someone but then I thought about them and the circumstance for a little too long and realized that I had some grudges I had been holding for YEARS. How unhealthy is that? I have to constantly remind myself that unforgiveness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. I also realized that many of the people I was holding unforgiveness towards probably didn’t even know how much they hurt me. Why was I letting this fester in my soul? I was hurting myself and my dreams more by blaming my teachers for being insensitive instead of taking personal responsibility for my own life.
Now, I am absolutely stubborn in my efforts to forgive. I have to be. It’s essential to my quality of life. Plus, I take God completely at His word. In Luke 6:37, Jesus said,
“Judge not, and you will not be judged: condemn not and you will not be condemned: forgive, and you will be forgiven“.
When I am struggling with forgiveness, I have to remember that if I don’t forgive those who have wronged me, I myself won’t be forgiven when I mess up. Everyone is equal at the foot of the cross – equally sinners and equally extended forgiveness from our Father. The second thing that I have been thinking about is how God literally wants me to dream and reach for the stars. A verse that came to mind as I was preparing for this blog was Ephesians 3:20 and I love the way the Amplified Version phrases it:
“Now to Him who is able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly more than all that we dare ask or think [infinitely beyond our greatest prayers, hopes, or dreams], according to His power that is at work within us”.
How is God supposed to do superabundantly more than we dream if we don’t even allow ourselves to dream? His ways are even ABOVE ours, so the things that we think up aren’t even unreachable! If you are walking in the will of God and allowing Him to lead and guide your thoughts and dreams, there is no need for being scared to ask for or think up certain things. We dream because our God created us to do so.
One way that we can show God we trust Him is by letting ourselves dream.
I have really been challenging myself to pull out that dream notebook and let myself imagine what I want my life to look like one day. It has really helped me to sit outside and watch God’s creation do its thing while I let my imagination go wild. Why hold back when it’s just you and a notebook, or just you and your thoughts? People nowadays don’t have hope. They don’t have vision. There is no opportunity to progress forward in life because no one is dreaming of things that are bigger and better. They are stopping where it is comfortable and taking what life gives them. I was living like that at one point but I forced myself to snap out of it. I want the absolute most that I can get out of life and I want EVERYTHING that God has for me. I want to dream.
The past few weeks as I have been challenging myself I have really never felt more free. Living life with an open heart and an open mind is how I want to live forever. I know that God wants me to dream, and even if you don’t believe in God, allowing yourself to dream can take you to the next level in life. Dreaming allows us to push ourselves to understand that we can accomplish more than we think we can. Dreaming also gives us goals to reach, which makes practical application possible.
What dreams are you hiding from yourself and the world? Who are you letting invest in your dreams? How can you invest in the dreams of the people who are around you?
I want us to really dig our heels deep into this one guys. I want us to let ourselves really hope in our dreams, to let ourselves keep expanding no matter what stage of life we are in. We usually keep dreaming reserved for children, but life doesn’t stop until we leave earth. There is always more to learn and to grow in.
This is just a super cute classic of me and my sissy and is completely misleading about the subject matter
Keys to communication I have observed in the world as I know it.
I really hate the way my generation communicates.
Living in this day and age has taught me a lot of things. But I think the most important take away that I have had recently is the lack of simple conversational skills demonstrated by humans across the board. From my perspective, a conversation is an experience between two or more people that leaves the individuals constructed, more knowledgeable, and open to shifting their perspective. I have had some amazing conversations within the last two weeks or so with some of my friends and family, but when I hop on Instagram for a quick second during the day I see a lot of things that really bother me.
There are a few points that I want to highlight in this post that I think would benefit a lot of people in their conversational skills and are things that I am still working on too. The first and I think most important thing is this:
1. You are not going to agree with everyone that you have a conversation with.
I truly wish that I could shout this from the rooftops repeatedly, forever.
I don’t even know how many conversations I have avoided just because I am scared that the people I converse with will disown me for my opinion. Now, I know this is no excuse, but it’s still completely valid. What have we seen demonstrated in our culture lately? I think our world could be a much safer place if people actually believed in the concept of “agreeing to disagree”, or just plain being civil. I know for an absolute fact that there are some things that my friends and I disagree about. And guess what? They are still my friends. I think that it is actually really important to surround yourself with people who don’t just agree with everything that you say. Where is the depth in that relationship?
Now, don’t get me wrong. If you and your bestie disagree around core values, that might be a serious conversation you need to have with yourself. Relationships are meant to challenge you and make you better, but they should not push you away from what you believe. Proverbs 27:17 says, “Iron sharpens iron; so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend”. If you have friends that act more like a substance that corrodes your iron instead of sharpening it then that could be a problem. But that is definitely not the topic of this blog.
I have a question… Why do many people feel like the human race needs to agree about everything all of the time? I just simply do not understand. And something that I find to be absolutely absurd, is that when a certain person goes against the grain and rebels from the “right way to think”, they are immediately ostracized for exercising their right to free speech. Here in America at least, everyone has a right to the freedom of speech. Many times I think we take that for granted. We are so accustomed to our freedom that we don’t realize in other countries people can literally die for saying or doing something contrary to what their government dictates. Practically speaking, the more freedom someone has the more responsibility they acquire. Like Peter Parker’s uncle told him, “With great power comes great responsibility”.
This responsibility means that we should hold ourselves to a higher standard of communication. If we are in a dialogue or debate with a fellow human being, I think it is reasonable to treat that other human being with the same respect that you demand for yourself and your own opinions. I understand the excitement about being passionate about a subject. I have a lot of things that I am passionate about. I think the missing link is though, we can’t forget that people could have different passions than us. And we should allow them to think differently than us with no pre-judgement. Just because someone doesn’t agree with you doesn’t mean they are in any way remedial, it’s just a difference.
I think a key component to “agreeing to disagree” is respect. I guess it can be debated that if you don’t show respect for someone you are interacting with then that just means that you don’t respect yourself, but I don’t want to step on any toes. I think we just need to keep our minds open to other perspectives and not crucify people for thinking differently than you do yourself. Respect, my children.
I see this time and time again displayed on people’s social media platforms. The second that someone comments on a random person’s Twitter with an unpopular opinion, a swarm of people collect to throw hate towards them. I will never understand this. Why is this the way conversations are being taught? Now, I am all for standing up for what’s right and for voicing your opinion, but again, if someone disagrees with you, that does not give you license to attack them for having a difference of opinion. In fact, you should do the opposite. Foster difference and create a safe space for open dialogue. The only way to learn about something you don’t know about it by listening.
It is important to realize that when you exercise your freedom of speech that it is pretty much guaranteed people will disagree with you, but you gotta just take that with a grain of salt. My main admonition with this point is that it is vitally important for people to remain civil when someone disagrees with them or with what is popular to believe. Your friend has the right to think differently than you. Someone you don’t know in your favorite celebrity’s comments section has the right to think differently than you. The entire human race has the right to think differently than you, actually. I personally think that disagreement should be encouraged. How can you learn from someone that you have everything in common with? I think it’s impossible. BUT, just because I said it should be encouraged does NOT mean that we should stay in hostile disagreement. I also don’t think it is profitable to be constantly bickering with people. It’s just not healthy.
Agree to disagree, and remain respectful when you come face to face with a discrepancy.
2. You can’t be easily offended.
Now that we have talked about agreeing to disagree, we need to talk about offense. When someone disagrees with me, I often have the urge to get defensive. If my mentality is being countered I want to prove to the attacker what I mean, how I mean it, and why I mean it. It’s hard to have something that you have adopted into a moral or standard countered. It’s not fun. But getting offended isn’t the way to handle a disagreement.
I think the first thing we have to remember with this point is that a majority of people do not have the intent to attack you. If I have a genuine question about someone’s viewpoints then I want to come to them calmly and with understanding. This creates a safe space for the individual you are talking to to share their thoughts and feelings freely. Who would want to put their thoughts out into a hostile environment?
I remember a time a couple weeks ago, I went with my mom to drop products off to one of her old friends. My mom has known this woman since she first started teaching in Detroit in the late 90s and she was even at the hospital when I was born. As we were catching up, she and my mom started talking about politics. Of course this is a touchy subject, and I was honestly kind of scared to see what would happen. I knew that my mom and her friend had very different political beliefs, and the recent conversations I’d witnessed between people on opposite sides of the political spectrum had been extremely destructive. Anyways, they were talking about how politicians were representing themselves and they both had very different opinions. I could tell that they were both passionate, but I was completely shocked that the conversation never escalated to any yelling, name calling, or hand throwing as I had seen displayed on social media. In fact, at the end of the conversation they both said, “I love you” and blessed each other as my mom and I drove away. I told my mom how refreshed I was because I had truly never seen anything so civil in my entire life. It was refreshing to see two woman who I loved disagree and still keep their heads on straight. They didn’t let their convictions get in the way of their relationship and left offense on the shelf. It was amazing.
Another thing that I think we tend to forget when we are conversing is that you can literally pause the person you are talking to and let them know that they are making you feel defensive. This does not give you permission to be overly sensitive, but if you want to have an effective dialogue then I don’t think it’s unreasonable to approach your partner with humility. Pride gets in the way of many things, effective communication being one of them. Again, I am going to go back to the idea of respect. The person you are talking to, especially if you don’t know them personally, will probably only hold as much respect for you as you demonstrate you hold for yourself.
3. Know the correct time and place to take part in your conversation.
Let me just put this out there. The comments section on Instagram is not the place to have a heated debate.
I’m fine if the majority disagrees with me. I would be lying if I said that I don’t go scrolling through the comments section and chuckle as people pour their hearts and souls into an argument with a stranger. It’s definitely interesting if that’s what you’re into and I’m not here to judge, I just think we can go about things in a better way. If you want a public debate, how about going live with the individual you’re disagreeing with? That way what you are communicating won’t be lost in translation. I think that’s why a lot of experienced communicators advise not having a whole argument over text. I myself have tried to get my point across while texting and let me just say it has NOT gone well, lol. We have facial expressions and body language for a very good reason. Hearing someone’s voice inflections and seeing their gestures could be what is hindering you from coming to an understanding.
With this point as well, I want to bring up that there are some times when you really should just shelf the conversation for a later time. If the person you are talking to is really not willing to come to a mutual understanding or you are losing grace with your friend, sometimes it is best for all involved to pause for another time. This is especially evident when the conversation goes in circles for like ten minutes without either side gaining any ground. People always say, “Never quit! Keep going!”, but saving a discussion for later is a tool to put in your tool belt. I always feel better having a serious conversation when I am rested and in the correct mental space. Know yourself and be sensitive to your situation so that you have the discretion of when to end things or keep pursuing common ground.
I remember one time my friends and I were having a very big disagreement. It lead to a little bit of drama and we didn’t talk to each other for a while. I was really mad, haha. Because there were a lot of hurt feelings, talking about the entire thing the day that it took place would not have been the best move. I’m glad my friends were sensitive enough to understand that I needed a couple days until I was mentally ready to talk about what happened. Each of them came to me separately, and we were all able to discuss our grievances respectfully and will time to really understand all of the feelings that were involved. Time was needed in this situation. Remember, the conversation does not have to take place right after the incident for it to be fruitful. Sometimes, that can make the situation much worse. Have peace about when to step forward and when to retreat and that will make having efficient conversations easier.
4. Listen to the individuals with whom you are conversing
Listening is a crucial part of conversations and I believe it is the most abused element of dialogue. Instead of attacking someone and then shoving your “rightness” in their face before they get the chance to say another complete sentence, how about trying to gain perspective by listening? I realize that some people comment on things to just pick a fight and fuel whatever weird fetish that is, but the majority of us can learn to go about things a different way.
When you listen you give yourself room to learn. I have been seeing a quote going around on Instagram that says, “Listen to understand instead of listening to respond” and I think that is so important. I have noticed with myself recently that as I have been listening to people having conversations I am already thinking of my rebuttal or what I would say if I was in their shoes. When my brain starts going that route I completely miss the rest of the point they were trying to make. Distraction is hard to avoid, but if we remind ourselves to refocus as we are having discussions I think that overall our attempts would be more profitable.
I know there have been a lot of instances for me personally where I have felt like I have not been listened to. This feeling leads to invalidation which makes me wans to clam up and refuse to communicate further. While both responses are unhealthy, I think that if we start to listen to each other we will start to actually learn things. Listening can be the missing link we have all been searching for. What to people want most these days? Things like government reform, equality, understanding, fair treatment, etc. etc. The biggest complaint? People are not listening. Now, if you expect people to listen to you then you shouldn’t come at them screaming because that would make them feel defensive. However, if your number one priority is to be a good listener to become an effective communicator, then most people should respect that and meet you there. If you put forth what you want to receive, people are most likely going to give you the respect that you want.
A key component to listening is empathy. The more understanding you are towards someone else’s convictions and reasoning the simpler it will be to effectively communicate. When we are having conversations, are we truly trying to understand the other person’s point of view or are we just trying to throw our own agenda on them? This is so necessary to evaluate and we need to have those hard conversations with ourselves.
Respect the people around you and don’t forget to respect yourself.
I think people are afraid to reform the way that we do conversation. But obviously, there are some major things that we need to work on. If we took the emphasis and energy off of attacking each other and put it more towards effective and constructive communication I think that our world would run a little smoother.
The main problem that I see in communication today is that people refuse to meet each other on a human level. I think some people forget that other people have feelings too. Sometimes we can be so quick to cast judgement and call names that we forfeit ever being able to have a constructive experience. What if while we were having a discussion we just took a moment to breathe instead of attacking someone? A common phrase going around right now is, “Don’t be afraid to be uncomfortable”. What if we approached communication like this? What if every time someone had a difference of opinion we stopped to listen with empathy instead of gathering all of our followers to bash them?
I know that we can do better. We need to do better.
I love how passionate my generation is, but I think that in our naivety we misplace or misuse that passion against people who could help us. We have to stop attacking the things that make us feel weird or that we think are “wrong” and run towards them instead. Being uncomfortable is the only way we can grow. No one ever said that growing pains were fun, but they are completely necessary. We can make a difference. You and me. We can do conversation differently. I think that we need to for the sake of the generations that will follow us.
This is me at the beach when I went to California for the first time last year. We love a good dramatic selfie.
There is safety in authenticity.
If I am being honest, this week has been exceptionally difficult for me. If you look on the date this will be posted, and you have any social media whatsoever, and you are someone who is exposed to accounts that discuss racial injustice, you may be able to put together why this has been a hard week. I want to talk about my viewpoints on race and the struggle that America is facing right now, but God and I decided this week was not that week. I am truly tired. BUT, I made a promise to myself that I would upload consistently and build my arsenal of posts so here I am.
I want to talk about authenticity.
I have struggled with representing myself authentically my whole life. And trying to decipher who is worthy of the real words of my heart has been complicated. It has been a constant battle and something that still scares me to no end. Through my early adulthood I have been pushing myself to be more open with sharing my feelings, even if it’s something trivial like stating what I want to eat for dinner. I have learned that unmet expectations are the result of unvoiced concerns. This week I read a quote from a Bible study that I have been reading on YouVersion. The study is about the need that people have to “wear masks” and conceal their true selves when they represent themselves to their world. I thought that this quote summed up the situation perfectly.
“No one tells us that when we wear masks, only our mask receives love.”
When I read this, not gonna lie, it was like someone slapped me in the face. I had never heard the “transparency situation” so eloquently and concisely phrased. It has been causing me to think long and hard about my motivation for not being completely authentic in how I describe how I feel and what I need.
Now, if you don’t know me personally, I want you to realize that receiving love is crucial to my existence. The way that I am wired, I HAVE to be sure that people love me at all times. I know that it is the deepest need for all humans to be known and loved, but I think that my brain goes into overdrive with that whole experience. It’s a toxic trait lol, I understand that and I am growing through it. But I have found myself doing so many things to drag love out of people. One of those things is hiding what I actually think about people, situations, hot topics, music.. You name it, I hide it. Honestly, I didn’t realize this was such a problem until I repeatedly contracted the sickening feeling of not being “seen” by people. I was so concerned with doing what I thought people needed from me that I had unknowingly created many different versions of myself. I was doing my best to identify with people but I was having a hard time keeping of track of the narrative that I was feeding them. I wasn’t identifying with myself. I wanted love from people but I was completely forgetting which of “myself” they were loving.
When I was little, I somehow learned the importance of playing hide and seek. I don’t remember when I started playing the game, but I was fully aware that I couldn’t stop. My life was perfectly fine as a result. From what I could tell there was no reason to change. I had friends whom I loved and I knew that my friends loved me. In high school especially, the most drama that was going on in my life was my friends and I liking the same celebrity, so there wasn’t much need for depth in representation and conversation. I wasn’t challenged to really search within myself until I got to college. There I had new friends who loved me, but I found myself needing more than that. I needed an identity.
The second that you step out of your parent’s house and people start asking you questions about yourself, it’s a recipe for a freak out session. At least it was for me. I had absolutely no idea how to go about communicating myself to people who didn’t know my family and my story already. So, I started doing the same thing that I did at home. Hiding. Luckily, I went to college with one of my good friends from home, so I had a safe place where I could talk about “real life” without reserve. Even though I had him, I knew that I wanted more for my new and growing friendships.
I think that it is instilled in human beings to always put their best face forward. Showing your “best self” is what will get you the job you applied for, the part you auditioned for, the boyfriend you’ve been searching for, and validation from those nearest you. But I am afraid that human beings are perpetually telling ourselves and our children the biggest lies.
Mistakes are invalid. Perfectionism is necessary. Failure is not an option.
I think it is the belief in these three things specifically that contributes to us putting our masks on. Why are we teaching ourselves that we need to be perfect creatures? I think that just looking around at our world today it’s obvious that that goal is not possible, but I digress… For so many years I told myself that I needed to be perfect. I refused to talk to anyone about the things that were actually bothering me. The only reason that I am secure enough to talk about it now is because I have learned that all of those above statements are untrue. You are going to make mistakes, period. Perfectionism is not necessary and it can be damaging. And failure is one of the most important parts of learning.
I remember one time I was telling one of my close friends about something horrible that I did in my past. I try not to tell anyone about it because I still can’t stand to relive those memories. It is a moment that I failed, bad. I made a mistake and sunk into the imperfection that I loathed. Hiding this mistake was necessary to the “perfect humans” narrative that I was feeding myself and it was rotting my soul away without me even noticing. When I told my friend this mistake I was SURE he would let me know that my mistake was not of God and that his opinion of me would change forever. I was wholeheartedly shocked when he said, “I am not disappointed in your mistakes, Isabella. If anything, it makes me love you more.”
I will never forget that moment. It’s like something switched inside of my brain. I started feeling secure. Why did sharing a close part of myself make someone feel as if they loved me more? That moment really has made me think, and I still reference it when I am having problems feeling open with people. I would always tell people that they could tell me anything and it wouldn’t change my perception of them at all, but I didn’t even believe that same truth for myself. I didn’t trust that my friends and family would meet me with the same love if they knew I had made mistakes. The freedom that I have now found in my friendships by being authentic in my words and actions has been mind blowing, if I’m being honest. I feel like it has also made me more secure in being myself. Why should I be scared of sharing myself with people who have repeatedly said and shown that they love me? That is no way to live, and I hope that more people begin to realize that.
However, my dear friend, you cannot go around sharing your authenticity with just anybody.
I think it was this misjudgment that caused me to start covering my authentic self. Sharing a dream, goal, preference, or mistake with someone who does not value your words or authenticity is a dangerous place to be. I remember when I was a young dance student, around my early high school years, I started to experience a fact of life.
Some friendships are not permanent.
I remember one girl in particular that I was friends with. She was around my age, and so we automatically had a lot in common. She was also a Christian, so we had that important life decision in common as well. I remember one experience specifically, when I shared with her something that I had been studying in the Bible. To my surprise, she said that she had been studying the same thing. How crazy! To me, this was a sure sign that we were going to be friends forever because God was speaking to us about the same things.
At the end of that dance season she left. Without saying a word to me about it.
What do you do when you start to open up to people just to have them leave shortly after? What is the point of being completely authentic and potentially being met with resistance when all of your friends are probably going to end up leaving you at some point? For a lot of my life, from then until recently, I thought that opening up to people was pointless. I thought I was shielding myself from hurt when I was hiding who I really was to gain “likes” from people. I had a gut feeling that not sharing my “real” self was somehow a disservice, not only to them but to myself. What right did I have to convince my friends that they were walking around with true information about me when in reality I knew I was just dishing out fake feelings and sentiments?
The truth is that authenticity is scary. But another truth is that authenticity is necessary. From my perspective now, I know that authentically sharing my life stories is part of my testimony, and that is one way that God says people will come to know Him. I think that God planted a certain knowing in all of us that gently nudges us to share our thoughts, share our stories, share our feelings. Sharing what is important to us is a crucial part of communication. Honestly, I think I have been hurt more by unmet expectations I have for people than anything else in the world. And why? Because I hesitated sharing myself and my needs with them.
Now I want you to know, friend, authenticity is a risk. I am not going to sit here and lie to you. People are unpredictable and I am here to tell you that you cannot control them. The only person that you can control is yourself. If I’m being honest, that realization was hard for me. I think that I am an undercover control freak, and when I feel like I can’t control a person or situation it really causes me to panic. I am still working on it, but the freedom that I have found in letting things go has been amazing.
Isabella, what if I get my feelings hurt? What if sharing my needs, wants, aspirations, and dreams with people ends up damaging me more than encouraging me?
Remember, authenticity is, in fact, a risk. While it is of crucial importance that you don’t just go about talking to any and everybody about the things that are close to your heart, if someone you trust happens to betray you, then that is not your fault. You can’t control them, you can only control you. I will never forget, last summer God said something to me that brought me so much peace, and I believe that it is a promise that He has made to all of us. He said to me, “When you share your heart, I will protect you. If the people around you do not steward the gift of authenticity that you have given them, I always will.”
You may not believe in God, and that is okay. But if you are a Christian, having the security that God is, in fact, reliable, gave me so much peace. I am not saying that I have represented myself authentically 100% of the time from then on, but I know that when I do make the conscious decision to be open, honest, and transparent, my true security is in God and not in the human beings that I am communicating with.
So how is there safety in authenticity? Well, there is safety in not having unmet expectations. Remember that if you do not communicate exactly what you are expecting from those around you, they will probably never know. There is also confidence that the close people around you really know who you are and not just the mask that you put on for the world. And finally, there is a grace that you can find, not only for yourself, but that you can extend to others. Remember when I told my friend about that big bad mistake and he created that safe space for me? Personally, whenever someone tells me what is really on their heart it also creates a stronger bond from me to them. It is a safe space.
I want to challenge you. How can you take a small step in representing yourself authentically this week? Don’t go crazy on me now, we can’t change the whole world in one day. But the small steps that you and I take this week, the God led steps that we take this week, those are the steps that will lead to permanent change. It is okay to be scared, but I believe in you. It could backfire completely, and remember, I’ve been there too. But know that God is the one protecting you and your heart. There is truly nothing that you can’t do.
Walk in wisdom and peace. Don’t just give your heart and soul to the person you pass on the street, but don’t be afraid of your own testimony. You are powerful and your story has purpose beyond what you can comprehend in this moment.
Two of my really good friends, Katherine Claxton and McKenna Brooks, dancing in the DME concert -February 2020.
What do you do when you feel like you’ve let God down?
This past year at school I wrestled with this exact question. Let me set it up for you.
So, in my dance department there are two different performance groups that you can audition to be in. One is called, BUDE, or the Belhaven University Dance Ensemble, and the other is, DME, which stands for, Dance Ministry Ensemble. BUDE is focused on putting on your typical dance concert. There is one BUDE show every semester and it is spread out into two weekends with a performance on Friday and Saturday. I have been through the program twice and it is SUPER tough during performance weeks. A two hour show run through every day for basically two and a half weeks straight. It’s especially difficult because the shows are near the end of the semester when tests are abundant and ever mounting. There is also an opportunity to perform at the Alabama Dance Festival if the piece you were cast in got chosen. That is one of the places that my school goes to network, audition new students, and just be seen. I have been fortunate enough to have gotten to attend this festival twice, both my Freshman and Sophomore years. Even though my school is a Christian school, BUDE gives students an opportunity to perform works that are more commonly seen in the “secular” dance community. I feel like the attitude of BUDE is very “self-growth” focused and is a little more cut throat. It is not easy to get cast in works because there are so many people trying to get into about five pieces a semester. I think the tendency when you are in this group, at least for me, is to be extremely self focused and to do your best to promote yourself so you can get cast in the best dances or just cast at all.
DME is completely different.
My school’s Dance Ministry Ensemble has more of a community feel within its studio space. There are not as many people in the group, which gives the opportunity for more intimate relationships with the students you are with as well as the faculty leading the ensemble. This group spends the first semester of school learning all of their repertoire and then start performing it in the community. They go all over the place: hospitals, children’s after-school programs, nursing homes, libraries.. anywhere that will let them perform really. Their whole mission is to lead people to Christ through the gift of dance, which is one of the most beautiful things you could ever experience. They also have one produced concert at school in the spring semester that is usually just three shows stuffed in one weekend. I have had the privilege of working behind the scenes of this production twice and it is one of the most rewarding experiences.
If I thought DME is so awesome, why haven’t I chosen to take a part in it?
That’s a good question.
When I was growing up, I danced at a Christian dance studio. I wish I had the words to explain everything that that entails, but basically, I grew up doing DME-esque things. My friends and I would learn dances, upon dances, promoting Christ and the Gospel, and we would preform them alllll over the place together. Boy’s and Girl’s Clubs, countless churches, museums, picnics, nursing homes, conferences, you NAME it, we were there. We didn’t really do many things that “normal” dance studios did, like full length ballets and a bunch of dance competitions, and that was okay with me. But I did always wonder what a more commercial and, “mainstream”, dance experience would look like. That is one reason why I told myself that if I went to Belhaven I would just take part in BUDE all four years and let people who hadn’t had the chance to experience Christian dance to do DME. I thought I was being pretty noble, but there was definitely more to my decision making. I never felt like I was called to the Christian dance scene and if I’m honest, I wanted to break out of it entirely. My first two years of school, especially my Freshman year, I struggled SO much with my relationship with God. I want to talk about it more later, but just know that this was another way I gave myself permission not to participate in DME.
I remember some time when I was in high school, a very good friend of mine who graduated from my college told me an admonition that she had received from my teacher’s son. At the time, he was a professor in Belhaven’s dance department. My friend said that he told her, “If you ever do DME I’ll kill you”. Of course, he wasn’t talking realistically, but his point was pretty clear. From that day on, I knew that if I ever went to Belhaven I could never take a part in Dance Ministry. I hung onto those words like they were golden. His comment wasn’t even directed towards me nor was it spoken into my life, but there I was planting that seed in my heart. There were times that I forgot about that whole conversation and it almost became a habit to tell people I would never do DME.
So what was I supposed to do when God told me to do something different?
In the summer of 2019 I went to a summer intensive hosted by Zion Dance Project. It is a Christian dance company in Dallas, Texas, and they just started a summer intensive program. The only reason I went was because some of my friends from school were going and I knew the artistic director. This was the summer right after my Freshman year so, remember? Me and God weren’t that cool. It was totally by His grace that I had the urge to attend and I got so much more out of Zion than I was expecting. It was almost like I fell in love with God all over again. All I wanted to do was please Him and follow my purpose. As the weeks grew closer to the beginning of school and I was having to choose again between auditioning for BUDE or DME, the idea of participating in DME became increasingly interesting to me. I felt like it was the thing I should do. What God was telling me to do.
But when I got to the audition room at school I was standing in the BUDE studios, just as I had sworn to myself in high school. I knew that I had had a change of heart regarding participating in DME, but for some reason I was suppressing those feelings. I hadn’t made my heart change known. I didn’t talk to anyone about it, I was too scared. I had always spoken so strongly about never doing DME, I didn’t want to have to explain to everyone that God had changed my mind. As I was sitting there watching the first part of the BUDE audition go by, I could not get the feeling out of my body that I was absolutely in the wrong place. Everything in me wanted to run out of the studio and fly into the DME audition, but why didn’t I?
I felt like I couldn’t. I felt like DME was inaccessible to me. Maybe I felt like I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t Christian enough. Maybe I felt like my friends who were accustomed to doing BUDE would not support my decision (because I have the tendency to be a people pleaser). For some reason I felt stuck in my habit and I was so strong in my conviction that I wouldn’t allow myself to think of other possibilities. Even though I felt that the other possibility was the way God was leading me. Anyways, as soon as the audition was over and I got cast in my BUDE piece for the semester shame immediately became my best friend. The entire school year I would watch my friends in their DME rehearsals across the hall from my BUDE rehearsals and my heart was crushed. I have never felt an emotion so strong. I thought that it would go away with time but it didn’t. I thought that if I tried processing my feelings with my friends it would go away, but that didn’t help either. I knew immediately that I had made the wrong decision, and I knew just as quickly that I would never get the time back. I was actually stuck in my own stubbornness.
Because I wasn’t able to dance in the DME concert, I decided to serve as an Assistant Stage Manager for my friends in Dance Ministry. I was so excited about this because I love being backstage during my friend’s concerts. I thought that this would be the perfect way to give back into a program that I had grown a sincere affinity for. I wanted to support my DME people not just by attending their concert, but by actually helping to put it on. I thought that since I missed the chance to dance in it, it would be beneficial for me and my hurt little heart to serve through it. I selfishly thought it would make my regret go away.
I was wrong.
The week that we were having tech and dress rehearsals for the Dance Ministry concert was probably the hardest week of my whole spring semester. I was broken…
One of my favorite professors at school always tells me when I am too much in my head that I should start to serve. That way I would realize that other people have problems too and I could invest in other’s lives. Also, growing up in church I heard repeatedly that if you were ever going through something or you needed God to move in a particular area, serve. I thought service was the key to making my shame disappear. I thought that the regret I had been dealing with for almost an entire school year would dissipate once I was in my all black outfit, flashing lights for my friends behind the wings. I thought that I could hide all of the horrible feelings that I had for myself and the people that I was “forced” to work with in BUDE behind two weeks of service. I was putting together all of the ingredients for the magic Jesus “service” potion and it was supposed to make me feel better again. I was so confused when my brokenness was heightened by service and being constantly around DME and my abandoned mission was keeping me up at night.
I will never forget the lowest moment that I faced during this time. I was texting my sweet friend who was a dancer in the DME concert. She is a BEAUTIFUL dancer, and I was freakishly jealous that she was dancing in the concert and not me. But we were texting the morning before the last concert and she was just asking if I was okay. I don’t think she actually knew in depth what emotions I was feeling. I didn’t want to tell my friends in DME how much I was struggling because I knew that that could be a distraction for them as they performed. Y’all, I have the BEST friends, and I know they care deeply for me. I didn’t want my intense feelings coming between them and their mission. Dancing for Jesus is no joke, especially during show weeks. Satan tries to do everything in his power to lessen the blow of a concert centered around the Gospel. It’s earth shaking stuff. Anyways. I was on my bed, texting my friend, feeling so alone and broken. Everyone else’s family was in town to see the concert and the only thing keeping me company was my homework and my sadness. I remember she texted me and asked if she could come give me a hug. I really wasn’t feeling my best, but I don’t easily turn down hugs. When she came down to my room I was still sitting up in my bed, just waiting to hold myself together long enough to be in her presence, and then try to sleep off the sadness when she left for her family. I was not at all ready for what was coming.
As soon as my friend walked into my room and hugged my waist, I just started crying. I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t think that I had any tears to cry. I had been watching rehearsals, helping with photo calls, joking backstage, all with a plastered smile on my face. I was trying to keep my struggle to myself. But as soon as I felt her arms around me I think I felt safe. Safe to acknowledge the feelings that I had been holding onto. Safe to let myself feel my disappointment. Safe to cry. She just stood there, probably freakishly uncomfortable because I was just hunched over in my bed, and just let me cry. She stood there, rubbing my back, saying everything was going to be okay. I think this moment symbolized Jesus to me. I was sitting there broken, distraught, terribly sad, and it was all because of MY disobedience. I think my friend figured this out, but she didn’t judge me. She was there to catch me as I was falling and to stop my fists as I was mentally tearing myself apart.
This moment really carried me through the last show and for weeks afterwards. As I continued to have sleepless nights and shudder to myself in by bed over my mistake, I tried to remember that feeling. The safe feeling. When the concert was finally over and I was almost completely removed from the situation, (reliving sweet memories from shows never really stops, DME concerts very much included) managing my feelings got a little bit easier. But I didn’t know what to do with the random nights. Do you know the feeling? When you are so ready to just hop in bed, snuggle up into your covers, and get the best night of sleep in your life, but then your brain decides to remind you of how horrible you are? There are MANY things that I have done in my life that I am not at all proud of. There are lots of mistakes that I have made that I feel remorse over. But this was the first time that I felt like I heard God speak to my heart regarding a matter and I deliberately disobeyed Him. I knew that I was suffering because of it. This experience has taught me one of my hardest lessons.
Even though there is always grace for you from your Father, disobeying God always causes pain.
I felt like I should write about this topic because just last week I had another bout with intense shame about this decision that I made in August of 2019. It was like one in the morning. My thoughts were racing. At this point, I was doing my best to lean on God. I knew that I was much more disappointed with myself than God was with me. I knew that He did not want this situation producing shame in me any longer. He is a GOOD Father and only wants good things for His children. But as I was leaning on Him and then doing my best to shove the feelings down so I could sleep, He said, “You need to text your friends”. Text my friends? About a situation that happened months ago? That they have probably forgotten about but is still haunting me? “Yes.” So, at one in the morning, I turn over and text two of my friends who were graciously walking with me through this whole situation at school. I wasn’t expecting a reply, I just wanted to get it off of my chest so that I could turn back over and hopefully be met with a good night’s sleep. Again, I was not prepared.
My friend from earlier, the one who came to my room and helped me cry, just happened to respond to my message first. I had asked for prayer because I knew that I can count on both of them to do that for me, even when I don’t directly ask. I was met with, “Aw belly yes always!”. (“Belly” is what my close friends call me and ONLY those friends lol). This confirmation of prayer was of course comforting to me. I know that I can go to God on my own behalf, but having prayer support from your friends is one reason that God gave us community. Then, my sweet friend proceeded to send me a voice memo of her praying for me. It was immediate. She didn’t wait until her quiet time with Jesus to pray for me, she acted on my request right then and there. Honestly, this action spoke volumes, and revealed even more to me about the heart of my sweet Father.
I had been taking the right steps – serving, leaning on God, talking to Him when I was facing the thing that scared me – but I was refusing to reach out to my community in my actual time of need.
The original question that I posed at the beginning of this post was, “What do we do when we let God down?”. The shame that comes with disobedience is VERY real and it’s hard to navigate. I would be straight lying to you if I said I had the magical potion to keep the shame away, because I don’t. This is really something that I am still walking through. However, the most crucial lesson that I learned was that shame hides in the darkness of your heart. It festers and thrives in secrecy and shallowness. It feeds on silence and inactivity. As soon as I told my friends that I was seriously struggling and was transparent about that struggle, it was like something inside me broke.
I like to think of what broke as the container that I was keeping my shame in. It was a beautiful glass container. Not clear glass, because I couldn’t identify all of its contents, but maybe it was a nice dark green color. This glass container had a matching top. It kept everything nice and tidy, right in its place. It gave shame the space to grow within the parameters of itself, and even let it bubble over a little bit so I could feel it. I was holding this glass container with all of the strength that I could muster. I couldn’t let it drop. That would make a terrible mess inside of my heart. I didn’t want anything else getting injured because of it. So shame stayed right there in the container for months. And then that day, last week, at 1am, God told me that it was time to share what was growing inside my glass container. He made sure that I had built trust with my community first, (gone through situations that would make me feel comfortable to share my struggles with my friends), and would be more willing to share the contents of my container. Once I gave my friends my container, they could grab it, look at it, observe what was going on, and gently take the top off of my glassware.
AH WAIT! You may say. Sharing feelings is scary. I don’t want people to know that I’m not perfect. How can I know I can trust people with all of my glass containers?! I like the way that I have arranged them all, and if other people come in that will just ruin everything that I have been building!
Exactly, my friend. Exactly. Let me finish my illustration.
Yes, I let my friend take my green glass container. That was scary for me. I was so used to holding the container by myself that I didn’t know what would happen if I let someone else hold it. Heck, for all I knew it could’ve blown up. But to my pleasant surprise, that did not happen. In actuality, my friend gently took that container and opened the top. When she looked inside, it was definitely messy, lots of yucky feelings had been in there unattended for a long time. But as soon as I relinquished control of the situation, she could look at it and not be overwhelmed. She was empathetic, removed from the situation. This position gave her the ability to carefully steward my container, and not just scatter shattered glass all over my heart. I felt like I was looking at my problem like it wasn’t just MY issue any more. Once my friend took the top off and we looked inside my container, I realized that whatever substance had been growing in there wasn’t as big as the love that God had for me. The mess in my container wasn’t bigger than Him. The amount of comfort that I got from just sharing my struggle and not letting myself face it alone has done wonders for me just this week.
I guess that is my answer. At least for this particular situation. I had gone to God and talked to Him about the shame I was feeling. I had told other people (in part) about how my decision made me feel. But telling my close friends right in the moment of my struggle sealed the deal for me. It gave me the freedom to look past myself and take comfort in the fact that this one decision didn’t ruin my entire life. My life is actually far from over. If I hadn’t made the decision to do BUDE instead of DME this past school year, I wouldn’t of even been able to learn this lesson. Of course, doing what God says the FIRST time takes away the potential for shame in disobedience, and I know that now. His ideas are always the best ideas. I think my school year would have looked a lot different if I had chosen to do DME. I would have been more peaceful, and definitely more fulfilled. But I can’t live my life regretting this mistake. The next time I come face to face with a decision to lay down my pride and follow God, I will have experience as my teacher instead of just my will to submit. And the next time shame tries to creep in to those secret places of my heart, I know that I not only have God to lean on, but my community as well.
God is good basically. That’s the lesson. God is the answer, even if it doesn’t seem direct at the time. He used the friends He gave me to bring about the healing in my heart that I was blocking from myself. The only way to learn is by living, and unfortunately, making mistakes is an unavoidable part of that. But God knows that we can’t do life by ourselves. That’s why He gave us, most importantly, Himself, and He ALSO gifted us people to do life with. I know that I am forever grateful for my sweet friends. Especially these two that I can text at all hours and who will just pray for me on the spot. I have really been blessed beyond measure.
I hope this story helped you! And if not, I hope it was at least a tiny bit inspiring. You can talk to me in the comments! I love feedback and answering questions! : )
