Don't be alarmed when the wound begins to bleed...

Let's face it.

Life really sucks sometimes.

You ever have those days where your whole world and everything you know to be true falls apart and you climb in bed, exhausted, and say "It's gonna be ok...tomorrow is a new day. It can only get better."

False.

It can, in fact, get worse.

And sometimes...those days turn into weeks.

Months.

And before you know it, it seems like your life is turning out to be one of those...lives.

Oops.

Well, that's kind of how I've been feeling lately. Since coming home from school, it's almost as if everything in my life is slowly disintegrating; my ambitions, my excitement, my passions, my friendships...little by little, the threads of who I am seem to be unraveling, and I have no idea what to do about it.

I don't want to live in the past. But I feel like I don't really have a future right now.

I was already struggling with not being at Bryan this semester. It was hard enough to have to sit at home and wonder why I haven't heard back from any job applications while all of my friends are in school and with each other every single day.

Add some spiritual conviction and I'm not only missing school but I'm aching to feel closer to the Lord, which always seemed easier in the Grassy Bowl or at a picnic table by the volleyball courts.

Then, out of nowhere, I was completely slammed by a relational hurricane. It stripped me of my confidence, my hope and left me utterly exposed to the elements of heartache in a way that was unlike anything I'd experienced before. I had never felt more alone and vulnerable than I did at that moment, and what I wanted above all was to be surrounded by people that I trusted and that I knew loved me.

Which I was, in a few days. I went to visit Bryan for the weekend, and it was wonderful to be around friends. But it was also one of the most draining weekends because I was forced to face my pain and loneliness head on. I had to try to take what was left inside of me and somehow create beauty again.

And I tried. I really have tried.

But that's not all.

Yesterday I was crumpled in a ball, overwhelmed with the worst physical pain I have ever felt. I knew something was wrong; I did not feel right. Today I went to the doctor, had an ultrasound done. Turns out I have a cyst on my ovary. No big deal, lots of women get them, says the doctor. It'll go away, says mom. No need to panic, says everyone.

Ok, fine.

But you see, I reached my quota for "keep calm and carry on" about 2 weeks ago.

 I can't stay calm anymore, says me. It's just not going to happen, screams me.

I'm at my breaking point. Life just isn't nice right now, and I'm tired.

This isn't going to be one of my usual posts, where I go on about some issue in my life and by the time the last paragraph rolls around, I've had some kind of breakthrough and can happily conclude and go on my merry way.

Because I don't have peace right now. I don't have assurance. I don't feel like everything will be ok.

It. Is. Not. OK. Right. Now.

I am not OK.

***

Don't get me wrong. I have friends that have been invaluable to me during this time. They let me vent, they hold me while I cry, they make me laugh so I can momentarily forget about everything...and they give me advice. Last night, one of my friends said something that I know will greatly encourage me one day. They said,

"You hope, Lex. You see something and see what it can become. To have hope and see potential beauty is a great gift. But there are sometimes...that people don't see the beauty and potential you can...so don't feel dumb or shameful about all that's happened. Just don't let this kill your ability to have hope and see potential beauty."

I don't want to lose that ability. But it's pretty shaky right now. I don't feel hopeful about anything...especially myself. I don't see beauty in much...especially myself. The potential of a brighter tomorrow sounds about as appealing as when Annie sings it. Not very.

I have no idea why all of this has piled up into one huge glob of struggle. I don't know what I'm supposed to get out of the loneliness, grief and confusion. Right now I've got nothing.

There's no brilliant conclusion to this. Not this time.

I am not okay, and it is okay to not be okay.

Purity and Past: Possible?

I very rarely write a blog post two days in a row. It's probably because I can't write unless I'm struggling with something or emotionally vomiting.

Which makes sense as to why I'm writing yet again.

As I said in my last post, I spent the weekend at Passion, a conference in Atlanta for 18-25 year old kids. The main focus of the conference was what I wrote about before--realizing your role in Jesus' sacrifice and having a heart that beats with His love. Good stuff.

But since I wrote that post and have been thinking of the ways God forgave me and saved me, I find myself stuck on one particular concept.

Purity.

I'm looking at what I wrote right now, and I said, "He looks through my struggle with sexual sin and gives me purity." That's beautiful and eloquent and a wonderful image to hold onto, but what does it really mean? What does it look like to be given purity?

Now, this is going to get a little messy, and will probably make zero sense. So brace yourselves.

All my life, I've been taught that purity is the most excellent virtue a woman can have. Men want a woman who is pure, who has saved herself for marriage, who has not thrown her heart away on worthless scum, who is modest and sweet and gentle and kind and reserved and patient and chaste.

Let me just say this.

I may have been sweet, gentle, patient and chaste when I was 9.

Life changes you. And it changed me. A whole lot.

Now I look at myself and I see a woman who has a few tattered remains of a heart that once was untouched and whole. I see a woman who battles her thoughts every moment of every day and struggles to treat the men in her life as the brothers in Christ that they are. I see a woman who has allowed the most disgusting and unthinkable trash into her life and consequently, into her relationships.

I'm not pure.

Now, like I said yesterday, I know God has forgiven me. I can recite the jargon: that I'm washed clean and when He looks at me, He sees a pure and clean woman and that's all that matters and I can start again.

But that's just it. How do I start again?

It never fails to amaze me how Satan is so in tune with our lives, even though we probably never think about him being there. Whenever I have a really good "God moment" or have a revelation of some kind that brings me to the feet of the Lord, it seems like I am faced with a situation moments later that I either must conquer with my newfound courage...or be shattered due to my weakness and failure.

Yesterday was one of those moments. I had just had this beautiful dialogue with God and feeling His forgiveness flow over me...and then I was knocked flat by the reality of my sin through one conversation...only this time I wasn't able to feel forgiveness. Only regret. Only the ache of mistakes realized and choices made.

Is this cycle never to end? Am I always doomed to find someone that means the world to me, only to abuse, take advantage of and destroy them through my insanely deep need to have someone love me? Even thinking about it makes me sick. I can't tell you how many friendships with guys have been ruined because of me and my desperate desire to be wanted. And every time...I end up abandoned. And I try to put the blame on them, to say that they didn't care enough, that they gave up, that they didn't think I was worth it...but really it's all my fault.

Don't ask me when I'll finally feel pure. Because right now I feel equivalent to a stinking bog of sewage and filth. And I don't expect that to go away anytime soon.

But I do know a few things.

One is that I'm done doing this.

I'm done with the selfishness, done with throwing myself at my brothers in Christ because I'm lonely.

I'm done with the flirting and seducing in order to make sure they're focused on me and won't run away.

I'm done with the begging and pleading for their love and commitment. How can I expect either one when I so freely give both at any time?

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not going to turn into one of those "I'll sit quietly at home, work on my cross stitching and one day, my prince will come to the door and somehow have found me while I was just here, waiting for him." No. That's not it either. Not at all.

But I can't be rejected again. I can't hurt anyone again. I can't watch myself shred another heart or lead another away from the true Lover of their souls. I just can't.

I don't know that I will feel pure for a long time. But I do know that I can change the way I look at men around me.

It probably means I'll be a lot more lonely, and ask myself everyday what's wrong with me. It probably means I'll rethink this decision on a regular basis and be tempted constantly to find love and acceptance where it won't last.

But maybe one day I'll wake up and realize that my heart's been glued, my needs fulfilled, and have the satisfaction of knowing that doing the right, pure, godly thing-

It totally sucks.

But it's gonna be so worth it.

Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to His cross and crucified them there. Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit's leading in every part of our lives.

-Galatians 6:24-25

I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far into the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Now all glory to God, who is able, through His mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.

-Ephesians 3:20

Sinking in Sin, Drowning in Grace.

How do you think Jesus felt when our sin was thrown on Him?

This is a question that I had never really thought about, and this past weekend at Passion I began to think about it quite a bit. One of the speakers talked about the concept of our sin literally crushing Christ. 

It destroyed Him. 

It mutilated Him. 

It shamed Him in front of all of heaven. 

It was so disgusting and so unbearable that God had to turn His back in order to be cleansed from the sight.

It took me awhile to wrap my head around that. My sin, things that I have done, murdered Jesus.

Did He cringe when He felt every lie I’ve ever spoken lashed onto His back? 

Did He blink back tears as the thorns of hurtful words I have thrust into others’ lives were thrust into His skull? 

Was it my lost battle with pornography that raged on for years that made Him collapse in agony?

Or was it my countless cycles of lust, seduction and selfishness that squeezed the blood from his body?

I began to think of everything I’ve done; every mistake, every failure, every regret. And the guilt washed over me like a tsunami.

 All I could see was Him…lying there, with me driving the spikes into His hands, wanting to stop, but unable to. 

Because I’m nothing more than a pathetic

dirty 

selfish 

disgusting

perverted

unfaithful 

human being. 

And I am hopelessly tarnished, tainted and ruined.

But then, in my mind-swirling around with these emotions out of control-I look up.

I look up…and I see the cross. 

And I see Jesus. 

And He’s looking at me.

Struggling to breathe, and without uttering a word, He gazes into me. 

Not at me. 

INTO me. 

And in that moment, He looks through all of my filth, grime and nastiness and sees my soul.

He looks through my lies and gives me truth.

He looks through my anger and gives me compassion.

He looks through my struggle with sexual sin and gives me purity.

He looks through my need to be loved and gives me HIS love.

And I fall in love with Him, for I know He has been in love with me since before time began.

Yes, my sin is the cause. My sin crushes Him. My sin wounds Him. My sin condemns Him.

But by His wounds-I am healed.

In that moment, His life ends and mine begins; and I feel nothing but an overwhelming gratitude for a debt that will never be repaid.

Words are inadequate. Nothing but love remains.

Simple, unadulterated love for me. 

And the grace to live each day that remains striving to reach the standard set for us...

By the cross.

This is the only post of its kind. That's a promise.

I wish

there was a

word

to describe

the terrorizing

fear

when you 

realize

that your

safe place

has been

taken from

you.

I wish

there was an

emotion

to describe

the devastating

hurt

when you 

acknowledge

that your

safe place

doesn't need

you

in order to

continue

on.

---

That is where my heart is.

That is where I feel safe.

That is where I know who I am.

That is where everything makes sense.

Now nothing fits together.

It is as if my identity has been wiped away.

The feeling of safety is a distant memory.

And my heart...aches for its home.

Dreams: Returned & Remolded.

I was wishing that my wishes were what God wished, and if my wishes were not what God wished, I wished that I could wish that my wishes would go away. But the wishes were still there.

-Elisabeth Elliot

***

I'm starting to realize something.

Life is confusing as

     All.

           Get.

                   Out.

Mind-blowing, I know.

But really. I feel like I'm careening out of control towards who knows what...yet stuck in one place, unable to move towards anything.

Makes NO sense.

It's a terrifying place to be. And the past few days have consisted of me looking for jobs and pushing aside the constant nagging of my subconscious screaming "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?!?!?!?!?!"

I've been really discouraged about it, but I haven't told anybody. I'm done being the girl who complains about everything and is always freaking out about the latest plot twist in her life. Sure, there's a few people that have the delightful task of dealing with that side of me...but honestly? I haven't even told them what I've been feeling.

I've kept it locked away, nursing fear and giving "what-ifs" the prime time slot inside my head. Because there's nothing worse than making a huge life-changing decision...

And then finding yourself saying, ".......Crap."

As you know, I felt led by the Lord a few months ago to give up my dream of being an actress and completely surrender my future to Him, having no idea where He would lead me. It was a very difficult time...and it still is. I struggle with that decision everyday. It seems like I am constantly having to say "No. I followed the Lord. I'm on the right path. I can't want that anymore." And to be perfectly honest, it's exhausting. I keep wondering, shouldn't it be at least a little bit easier by now? It's been 4 months. I should be past the constant grieving. I should be excited about the unknown plan. I should be eagerly searching for new opportunities and passions.

Shouldn't I?

This has consumed me. And in the past 2 days, my entire way of thinking about this situation has been radically changed.

Both of my parents, at different times, brought up grad school to me. In case you don't know...I love school. Being done with college was never the end goal. I had always assumed that graduate school and possibly a doctorate were down the road. So the past few months have been difficult in that respect also; wanting to go back to school but having no idea what I would pursue.

Today I'm sitting in a booth at the Mexican restaurant with my dad, and he says "I want to tell you something. I don't think you should give up on your dreams so quickly. I understand that you feel like your desire to be on the stage and be a star was selfish and misplaced...but why do you have to give up everything to do with theatre? Why do you have to walk away from your greatest love?"

I just sat there...dumbfounded. Because I'd never really thought about it that way.

He kept going. "You want to know what I think? I think the Lord asked you to give up your dream and your love for theatre because He needed to know that you were willing to do it."

My dad continued to talk about Abraham and how God commanded him to sacrifice his only son...but at the last moment God stopped him. All He wanted was proof that Abraham was willing to put the Lord above anything else in his life. When that proof was presented, the Lord gave the sacrifice-his son-back to him.

"Alexis, God asked you to sacrifice something precious to you. And you did. It was incredibly hard, and painful, but you did it. Maybe the Lord just wanted proof of your willingness...and now you can have that dream back, but with a different perspective."

I didn't cry. But I sure wanted to.

So now I'm sitting in a coffeeshop, sipping apple cider with tears streaming down my face because I'm so overwhelmed.

I'm so afraid to hope that this could be what's happening. That my life can somehow be glorifying to God and be in line with His plan for me while I'm doing what I love more than anything else in the world.

So....I'm a little shaky right now. I feel vulnerable and very, very scared. But I'm taking baby steps; which means I'm going to allow myself to look at graduate schools again, and to at least consider the possibility of my crucified dreams being resurrected. Some of them anyway.

Pardon me while I revert back to my 16 year old self and quote a Barlow Girl song.

You say you have a plan for me

And that You want the best for my life

Told me the world has yet to see

What You can do with one

That's committed to Your calling

I know of course what I should do

That I can't hold these dreams forever

If I give them now to You

Will You take them away forever?

Or can I dream again?