A Lesson on Being Outdoorsy

There are things in my life that are easy to understand. Eating grass doesn't make me a cow. I get that. Easy to wrap my mind around. Getting a tan doesn't make me any less ginger. Understandable. Living in a different city than my family doesn't make me not a Thomason. Okay. Of course. Cavemen understand those things.

Sometimes I forget that wearing Chacos and nike shorts and drinking out of a camel back doesn't make me athletic, outdoorsy, and/or granola.

I was reminded of this Saturday. Let's start at the top.

I woke up bright eyed and bushy-tailed promptly at 10:30. More like groggy eyed and frizzy headed and confused but I would have rather been the former. Then my roommate and I did what my roommate and I do best. We sat outside in our pajamas. We drank coffee. We read the Word. I ate cereal. Suddenly it was 12:30. I read anxiously. I looked at my watch. I impatiently did laundry. The day dragged. I remained in my pajamas for good measure. I think I literally watched the time stop. That's dramatic. The time finally came and you best believe I was ready. Chacos on foot. Nike shorts on body. Water bottle full. A little defensive Tylenol in system for preparation.

Pinnacle Mountain is the small hill in Little Rock. Outdoorsy people like to hike it with thoughts of training for Kilamanjaro. Now, there are multiple ways to attack this bad daddy. Walk up the steps. Scale the side. Teleport (only in my dreams). The options are endless. Scratch that. Normally the options are endless. Saturday the "easy route" was closed for some reason. Some nonsense about "trail reconstruction" or something like that needing to be done. Regardless, that meant one thing: We would be going about this the hard way.

At this moment in my life I was torn between two evils. Do I let me Saturday dreams of climbing a hill and adding the accomplishment to my dreams of being outdoorsy, die? Do I let those dreams die a quiet death and just leave and eat Chipotle instead? Tempting. So very tempting.

Or.

Do I buck up and climb the harder side with everyone else instead of sitting in my car and eating a burrito? My pride had one answer. My body and tastebuds had another. My tastebuds would have won the fight if it weren't for one thing.

And that one thing is this. Who wants to be the girl who would rather eat and nap in the car when you're with 4 other people who are perfectly capable and excited about climbing the harder side? Nobody. That's who. And since I'm included in "nobody" I prepared my heart, and started trekking. And sweating. And then my legs slowly but surely turned to jello. And then I suddenly I wished I had something stronger than tylenol in my system or a ski lift. Or 8 months of training for this moment. The rapture. Something.

We made it up and down without too much trouble. Except I almost had a minor heart attack. And feared my for my life. And needed 10 hours to climb it instead of 1.5. I was left feeling like I was that girl. And what happens when you're that person? The person who needs help. The person who's not prepared. The person who struggles. The person who needs to go slower. The person who needs someone, or a herd of people to stay behind? The person who would rather just sit out than live for fear of not being able to?

I've realized something over the course of these past weeks. Everyone is that person. It gets lonely in our brain because we feel like we're the only ones at that place of being the "weak link" of life-when in reality we're all the weak link. Some are just more aware of the need. If I didn't have that deep human need for something better then there would be no need for Jesus. Or grace. Or mercy. Or others. Or all things wonderful and true and real.

Suddenly, I realized being that girl was the most precious and perfect place to be. Only there do I see my dependency on Jesus in it's truth. And embrace it. And experience real life.

"For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says, Do not fear; I will help you"

Isaiah 41:13

More

Oh my goodness gracious. I never thought I'd see the day when it had been almost 3 weeks since I last wrote on this thing. Maybe I thought I would always make time for it. Maybe I thought I would always have hours of free time a day. Maybe I have dreams of being a famous blogger. Maybe I irrationally dreamed (but dreamed nonetheless) of receiving a shout out from the Pioneer Woman by now telling me to come be her neighbor and marry a cowboy and be her partner in blogging crime. Sometimes life just goes and there's no time to document. Lord, please don't let me ever forget.

But, never fear. I'm back and ready to CATCH. YOU. UP.

Coming back to school has been a whirlwind of anxiety, joy, transition, confusion, hilarity- basically a culmination of things hoped for and things feared, for a really really long time.

Do you want the good news or the bad news first?

Good thing for you the bad news is in fact good news too although it might not seem like it for a few thoughts. Bare with me. It's truly a win win.

I never thought that this time of my life would be a time of brokenness. I'm mean let's be real. I'm living with some of the best friends i've ever had. We have been blessed with a fun house to decorate and dance and live and rejoice in. I get to live life with some of the most hilarious and eager 9th grade divas i've ever known. I'm taking 3 gen eds as a senior (high fives all around). I am supported and loved by genuine-hearted, Jesus loving people. The truth is obvious: This is a recipe for the best year of my life thus far.

Here's the problem. I have been running from being broken my entire life. I have jumped through the hoops of perfecting my behavior. I have stepped on and off soap boxes like I was in an aerobics class and wearing spandex. I've chained myself to the lie of, "There's no need for brokenness when your trying to follow the Lord as closely as I am. Plus I don't have time for it. I mean look at all I'm involved in and all the people that depend on me!" (I just cringed a little at my own arrogance. It's okay if you did too). I've had my fleshly efforts congratulated and then taken those compliments and shoved them into my emptiness over and over (which doesn't fill you up, I've found). I would internally beat myself up over failures, and lost dreams, and hurt feelings, and fear, and the presence of loneliness in my heart, and lost relationships. They hurt me, but I just called myself "understanding" and "resilient" and let it "roll off me". (Which, let's be real, doesn't happen. It clings to you like a burr on your patagonia or a 2 year old around your leg.) The truth is obvious: This is a recipe for disaster.

So what happens when the two meet you ask? Something so very beautiful and painful all wrapped into one.

Over the past few weeks I have hit rock bottom, watched my self confidence made of my efforts crumble, and panicked. Alot. It's a scary thing to watch your world fall apart and be called to live like an open book. It's like being naked in the street. Or being broken and vulnerable in front of the very people you thought you needed to be strong for. I don't know which is scarier. I could write screenplays for movies about quarter life crisis. Excuse my drama-mama-isms.

Here's the best part. I have prayed and prayed and prayed for the Lord to be the firm foundation of my life. For me to understand grace. For the gospel to be something that fuels me and satisfies the deepest cries of my heart. For the Lord to be my Joy. Love. Strength. Life. Light. Satisfaction. That I would have a deep hate for the things that the Lord hates and a deep love for Jesus and the abundant life He offers me every second I'm breathing.

FINALLY. Finally. finally. I'm at a place where I can hear Him. Need Him every second of the day. Lay my attempts of living my life on my own down willingly- desperately. Beg him for rest and receive it. Sit in my weakness. See my need for more of Him. More realness in relationships. More grace. More love. More from this life. Look my human self in the face and embrace her- In weakness. In strength. In times of harvest. In brokenness.

So, here's the thing. Life gets to me. I'm hurting. Things affect me. I need the Lord. I need people close to me. I need prayer. We all need help with life. No one can do it alone. Not even partially alone. That's all.

In other news, there is no other news. Except, I've been eating guacamole for almost every meal, and listening to Josh Garrels nonstop for a week. You should do the same. His voice is a delight! And our house got rolled in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago. More on this later. Stay tuned for the ridiculous saga of that.

Hugs and love all around!