Naked

Oh, Valentines Day. 

I'm going to be honest with you, I have always thought Valentines Day was one of the worst marketed holidays in the history of ever. Single or not I always hated that there was one day a year to make women swoon and yearn for romance and to pile every sappy pressure imaginable upon men. 

I hate that there has to be a designated day to make someone feel loved.

Anywho, my ranting is not what this post is about. 

In spirit of the "holiday" I do want to talk about love.  

But not just that romantic kind of love. 

“Job found contentment and even joy, outside the context of comfort, health or stability. He understood the story was not about him, and he cared more about the story then he did about himself.” -Donald Miller 

I am a lover of people. Admittedly, one of my many character flaws does include pointing out the ridiculousness I see in others quite often (I'm working on it) but my heart truly lies in the heart conditions of people. 

It's become a major grievance to the people closest to me that I tend to open myself up to just about anyone even if the situations can seem risky. (I now have a healthy dose of caution and awareness-everybody chill out.) 

When I ask how someone is doing it's because I actually want to know how they're doing. I want them to tell me if they're having the best day of their life so I can soak up their joy and contentment. I want them to unload their burdens to me if they're drowning in darkness, I want to share in their sorrow just so they can know that they aren't alone.

Its because I care about their heart, I care about their circumstances and their well being. And if there is any chance that I can take even an ounce of pain away or ease any weight from their shoulders, I will. 

In my mind that's just what I should do. Love. 

Love isn't just infatuation, it isn't always some great overwhelming scene that happens to us. Love isn't a game of chance and it isn't just shown by material things one media crazed day a year. It shouldn't be measured by the typical acts of love. Love is a daily choice to look past the crud that surrounds us all and see into the purity thats there, even if you have to dig way down deep to find it. 

Love is dying to ourselves and our own selfish wants every single day to put the conditions of others before our own. To extend our own hearts and stand side by side with someone naked (In an emotional way. Don't be gross!) and vulnerable yet still accepting one another as fallen children of Christ and loving the crap out of each other anyway. 

"Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart." 1 Peter 1:22 

I do hope you have a fantastic Valentines Day and that you celebrate life and true unconditional love with those you hold dear. 

Now tell me...

                   How are you today? 

Five phases of a jobless Danielle

"It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.
I want to repeat one word for you:
Leave.
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be."-Donald Miller 

The adjustment from my move to Chicago has included a month long hunt for a new employer. After interviews and a billion applications I just became the newest member of the Victoria's Secret family! (Coffee to panties... It's not that different, right?) 

After I was done moon walking down the street in celebration of my new found reason to shower daily, I began to reflect on my last few weeks of blissful solitude/insanity. 

I feel like I should explain that I really do enjoy being alone- it's a necessity. I am like that stupid cordless screwdriver you have in your toolbox that needs 20 hours of recharge for 10 minutes of use, but even for the introvert too much alone time can cause you to do strange things... 

With that I'm preparing you for, The Five Phases of a Jobless Danielle. 

Phase #1: Freedom

Like I mentioned before, I require a lot of alone time. I just need solid silent me time to face the world-so the first few days were wonderful. I stayed in my pjs all day, had hour long dance parties in the apartment, squashed 2 seasons of American Horror Story and finished off the biography of David Foster Wallace. Glorious days. 

Phase #2: Self-reflection 

After the dance parties and the other mind numbing activities started to bore me, I sat. Just sat in the quiet. It's amazing what your mind gravitates to when there are no distractions. I began to recount every mistake I've ever made and replay situations over and over in my head. Surely you've all had those moments when you look at yourself in the mirror and all you can say is," What in the world have I become?!" 

This is a toxic phase and also extremely exhausting which brings me to phase #3...

Phase #3: Sleep 

I am a firm believer in naps but this sweet time waster was taken to a new level when that's literally all I did for days. My brother was convinced I had mono or that something was physically wrong with me when in reality I was just trying not to think. Also, it's freakin' cold here. My bed is warm. There was not much resistance on my end. 

Phase #4: Separation anxiety

I'm pretty sure this phase drove everyone in my world bonkers. I actually started craving conversation. Every call I received and every interaction I had I went into crazy ethusiastic Danielle."Hey! HEY! How are YOU? Tell me about your day. Explain your thoughts. PAY ATTENTION TO ME!" 

...Yeah... 

Sorry about that, friends. 

And finally, 

Phase #5: Motivation 

This last phase was brought about by my dearest. Like I said previously, my separation anxiety phase had induced word vomiting all over anyone I had contact with and in the midst of my unceasing chatter I had stated that I felt useless, like I was never going to find anything and I wouldn't accomplish what I set out to do. To which he replied, "You are doing something. You felt like you needed to move and you did". And with that I was enlivened. I have already done something. I left my home. I left the comfort I had there. I'm out to have life changing, eye opening experiences. I'm in a new environment to soak in new opinions, views, lifestyles and grow from the exposure. 

It's time to warm this city up with my fire of enthusiasm! 

Cheesiest ending ever? Quite possibly.

Do I care? Not a chance. 

P.S. Do any of you do weird things when you're alone? If so, ease my mind and tell me about it. I can't be the only mad one... 

Choose Happy

I am a little late on the 2014 resolution bandwagon, mostly due to my unbelief in the ability for anyone in the history of ever to stick with and accomplish their "this year will be different" goals, but here I am... 

Proverbs 14:13- "Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth is heaviness."

Recently, I had a dear friend ask me what I wanted from life, I think the expectation for my answer was something along the lines of "I want a career" or "I want a family" and instead my response was simply "I want to be happy". As soon as that came out of my mouth I realized that was the wrong answer. Panic started to set in (complete with sweaty palms and awkward fidgeting), I had said too much. I had opened up a chance for someone to take a peak under my facade.

My struggle with depression and anxiety has always been something I've been ashamed of but also two things that I have relied upon over the past years. In a weird way it's always been a comfort knowing that if something goes wrong I have the ability to slip back into despair, creep back into my selfish abyss because that is where I've grown the most comfortable. To me, happiness has always seemed like a byproduct of circumstance. Thoughts like, "Well, I can't be happy because this happened" or "I can't be happy until I accomplish this". I have always felt that my moments of true happiness have been so few and far between that when they happen I get antsy and uncomfortable, always waiting for something to go wrong. I rarely sit back and enjoy those moments because I'm on the defense preparing to be sideswiped. 

In the middle of talking about this I was told,"Just don't feel that way anymore." To which I scoffed and thought about how ridiculous that sounded. I can't just turn off my sad button and turn on the happy?...

Or can I? 

The more I thought about it the more it made sense to me. I make a choice every morning to wake up and blanket myself with my routine self-hating thoughts. I am the biggest reason that I can't get out of this cycle. I am the reason I'm not getting better. I have given up trying. I have given up fighting. I sit on the sidelines and wait for my turn at happiness but it has been in my hands this entire time. I just haven't called it mine. 

That is changing this year.

I am breaking my constant loop of self hating thoughts. I will start each day expecting great things. I will love wholeheartedly and accept and trust the love of others. I will not be a traitor to my own soul by tainting every blessing that comes along with the worry that God isn't going to get my life right. I will let go of my bitterness which has led me to believe that God has gotten my life wrong. 

Today I am claiming joy. 

Look out 2014, I'm putting my happy pants on. 

Phillipians 4:4- "Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice."

Are you absolutely positive?

For the last few months I've been trying to wrap my head around the kind of love that God has for us. I had no idea what I was getting myself into with this undertaking and I've barely just scratched the surface of His unconditional love. 

 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. - Romans 8:37-39

I grew up in a very loving and supportive household. I was told that I was loved every single day but my response was always and still is, "Are you sure?" 

I remember asking my mother that question and a few times and her reply was a little bit edgy, kind of frustrated, "Yes. Yes, Danielle. I love you." Then, because of my insecurity, my head was filled with thoughts like,"Oh no! She's mad at me!" when in reality she was just tired of constantly soothing my irrational fear that I had somehow found a way to remove her love. 

I was never given a reason to be skeptical of her sincerity. I think I was born with uncertainty, with a craving for reassurance. I still maintain that I must have came out of the womb saying,"Hey....Are you guys sure you want me?..." 

So this mindset has carried me through life; always prepared for people to take my provided scapegoat, giving everyone a second chance for them to retract their statement of love. Never truly trusting that I was capable of being loved unconditionally. 

As of late, this distrust has been brought to light in reference to my relationship with Christ. 

I've heard that He loves me, I know that He does, but I need to believe it in order to trust it. 

As all of this was rambling through my head Sunday morning, I started writing and it spiraled off into the following:

'There are no conditions with this love. My love is deep, my love is of the purest motive. My love is for the person you were, the person you are, and the person I am creating you to be. 

My love is extravagant, overflowing with security and unending grace. My love needs no reassurance for I made you who you are with a purpose. 

Don't doubt my work, don't refuse the peace I am offering you with the promise that you are exactly who I want you to be. I have made you aware of the brokenness that surrounds you to fulfill your calling. 

I have allowed your situations and circumstances to further my kingdom. Who better to usher in the lost than those who remember so vividly the times when they themselves refused my covering? 

Beloved, trust in Me. Trust in who I say you are, in what I've called you to be. 

I have seen your engrained perversity, the darkest parts of your being and still I am here waiting. Waiting for you to accept this divine love, to take hold of the promises I have for you.'

I don't know what this is or where it came from but I do know that when I read it back, I felt loved. 

And I didn't even question it. 

  Because Your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise You. - Psalm 63:3 

Bleach

This is my favorite shirt. I would wear this thing every single day if no judgement was passed by people who see me on a regular basis. 

Last week I wore this favored item to work and I went home looking like I rolled around in coffee grounds and basil pesto spread. I felt disgusting, repulsive.

Now stay with me for a second. 

Sometimes my walk with the Lord feels exactly like that white T. 

I'll start the day off bright white, trusting in Him, believing in Him then I make mistakes and get messy. I make decisions that either push me further away from Him or distract from His infinite goodness and love. 

When the realization of how far away I am sets in this usually leads into a crashing wave of shame and I make unrealistic promises like,"I'll never talk to another person again! I'll lock myself up in the house and never set eyes on anything but my Bible!" (If you think that was thrown in for the dramatics, you'd be wrong.) 

I was having this internal argument about how I should live my life and what exactly I should deem acceptable when He pretty much slapped me out of hysterics and pulled me to Romans 7:18

"For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out."

And 1 Peter 5:10

"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you."

He knows I'm clumsy and He knows I'll fall down. Life happens- life gets dirty. I will make mistakes. There will be days that I trip over the hole in the floor and make a mess out of everything then spend the rest of the day feeling gross and covered in sludge. No use crying over spilled coffee(did I just say that?...), just bleach the crap out of that white T and flip the the switch to heavy duty. 

I'll never be so dirty that He can't put my life through the washing machine and remove every stain. On my own I fall, I fail and disappoint but through Him this call for an undivided heart is made possible. 

"You keep trying, you WILL make it." 

- inspirational texts from Mom 

Daddy's little girl

"Take care of all your memories for you cannot relive them."- Bob Dylan 

It's been 8 years today. 8 years since I've heard you speak or seen your face light up when you laughed. It's been 2,920 days since I've held your hand, always calloused and permanently stained from working on your cars. It's almost been a decade since I've heard you say,"I love you" or call me your little girl. 

The memories I have of you I try to keep as vivid as I can, like the way you used to sit (usually your right leg crossed over the left, your right arm propping up your face if you were leaning) or your scent (I still open up your cologne every now and then). 

I remember waking up at any time during the night and always finding you at the kitchen table holding a cup of Jamaican Blue coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I remember your spontaneity as you told all of us to pack up and get in the RV. I remember your goofy hats and your even goofier shirts. I remember mandatory NASCAR Sundays and your never changing oldies music choices. 

 In these last years you've missed birthdays, promotions, holidays and big moves, weddings and family reunions. You've missed graduations, first cars, first car wrecks, performances and monumental trips. You weren't here for mom's big fight or for her victory, or the birth of your first beautiful grandson. 

Although these memories are sweet I hate that I can't picture your face in those moments. 

In some respects this has gotten easier. I don't cry at the mention of the word cancer and I can talk about you freely in conversation.  Time has offered it's healing and in it's place created distance- I can't remember the last time I dreamt of you and now I have to strain to remember the feeling of your scratchy beard kisses. It breaks my heart to admit that these things are starting to fade so I'll keep clinging to what I have retained and further engrain  them in my thoughts. 

We'll never really get over this-only through it and that's all I can tell myself right now. Just make it through today. 

I miss you, Dad.

I love you with all that's in me. 

- your little girl 

This is not a suggestion

"And that as you lay down your life, truly you will find. And that as you pour out a blessing upon those who have spitefully used you- upon those who have abused you, upon those who seek your life and your reputation- you will become free.
And so beloved, when you are so weak and so vulnerable but relying upon me, then you are made truly strong. So lose your life, my child. Dare to lose your life and you shall gain that higher thing which is life and peace and communion in me."- 'Journal of the Unknown Prophet'

To those of you who don't know me, I don't hate people. I have faith that most are good and truly do have good intentions. It's not hard for me to love those who despise me because of my faith or those who don't understand my reasoning. It's not a struggle for me to love souls from any walk of life.

                    But there is one person on this earth that I absolutely hate.
Not like a playful or exaggerated hate like, "Oh my gosh, I hate mushrooms." This isn't just a strong dislike or preference. This hate is a burning in my belly, like a "We better not meet in a back alley" kind of hate. I hate his character, I hate his intentions. I hate that I allowed him to take parts of my heart and I hate that the pieces he left for me are still broken and in need of restoration. This festering hate has been present for several years. I've been gripping this grudge for so long my hands ache...

                Two months ago The Big Man upstairs told me I have to love him...
                                                      And I said no.
In my stubbornness I told the God of all creation that I didn't trust Him with that part of my heart and I claimed that I could fix this on my own. I disobeyed and completely ignored what He commanded all of us to do... To love. Needless to say, he didn't agree with my answer and has continued to pursue the shattered pieces that I have been unwilling to give up.

"Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart."(1 Peter 1:22)

When I first read this scripture I was blown away. Are you freakin' kidding me? I can't just say that I love him and get it over with? I have to want to love him? I have to love him from a heart that doesn't hold a grudge, a heart that has forgiven his offenses?... I have to love him in the way that Christ loves me?...

His love for humanity was so fierce that He died so we could be closer to Him, we have all rejected or failed Him at some point in our lives but He still runs after us. He wants to capture every heart, including the one I hate. His call to love wasn't a suggestion- I have to love with a furious love. I have to look past the wrongs and grow to forgive him and myself.

I do not love this man. Not yet, anyway. But I understand that I have to. I'll work on this forgiveness thing and strive to possess a pure heart that is being refined by Christ.

"And as you lay down your rights, beloved, and as you lay down the fear and the insecurity, and as you stop in your futile attempts to defend all you hold dear- so the torment shall cease and the peace shall arise and you shall find that that which you were unable to protect, when it is given into my hands- I will protect."- 'Journal of the Unknown Prophet'