The Journey to Loving Me

Last night I stayed up way too late looking through old Facebook photos and pictures of myself on my phone, noting the beauty I found in each one. Sounds really conceited, right?

For me, no. This for me is a huge breakthrough, because I did not look at each picture that looked good. I looked at Every. Single. Picture. And noted the beauty in all of them.

Since I was little I have had a lot of self-hatred. I thought I was ugly, and the people who would tell me otherwise I thought were looking past my outside and commenting on my personality, character, etc. and saying that I was pretty in spite of my outward appearance. I didn't think that way all of the time, but I spent a large majority of my time in this mindset.

My version of beauty came from how I was dressed, how my hair looked, and how my makeup was done. When every hair was in place, I would feel beautiful. And the crazy thing is, I spent a very long time dressing poorly and not wearing makeup. I thought that as long as I was aware I wasn't pretty, I didn't have to dress to pretend like I was. My outside reflected what I thought about myself.

My daily routine used to look something like this:
1. Wake up in the morning feeling rough, walk into the bathroom, and wonder how I could be so unattractive. Hope that I could transform myself through the process of putting on makeup, fixing my hair, and finding cute clothes.
2. Get ready and think I was actually looking pretty that day.
3. Get in the car and see myself in the harsh sunlight and immediately be let down a bit.
4. Walk past a building that had floor-to-ceiling glass and evaluate myself again. Lost a little bit more self-esteem.
5. Hang out with people (we're talking close, intimate friends) and go to the bathroom at some point. Stand and stare in the mirror and wonder how they could be friends with someone so unattractive.
6. Leave the bathroom and try to interact like nothing was wrong.
7. Go home and see what the day had done to my appearance. Realize people saw me that way.
8. Take off my makeup and return to the unattractive state of that morning.

Okay, so now that you know this background, let me tell you why I've said all of this. Why last night I was able to go through all of those pictures and see beauty.

My faith has always been the most important thing in my life. My identity and my faith in Jesus cannot be separated. For the past few months, I have allowed Him as much access as He wants, and He has been molding my heart. I have known for years that I had a self-hatred problem but didn't know what to do about it. But this past summer I let down my walls and found growth in many areas. I have been evaluating my patterns of thought, listening to messages by amazing, people, and spending time in worship. Let me tell you, when you start listening to what God thinks of you, it's difficult to keep thinking incorrect thoughts of yourself. I prayed a lot for God to change my view of myself, and He totally opened my eyes. I know that He did some practical things, like show me that I love my friends and think they're beautiful regardless of what state they're in. He showed me that this is true about me as well.

But more than just depositing truths about media, perceptions of others, etc., he put in me a love for myself. I don't really know how to describe it other than that. Last night I was engaging in my nightly evaluation of myself in the mirror and looked and realized that I thought I was beautiful. I was in pain from muscles in my leg, I was a day overdue for washing my hair, and I had a bit of a glazed-over homework look, but I still saw beauty. And I realized that it had been there all along, and knew that I had a choice never to go back to my old way of thinking. God had renewed my mind.

So it may sound arrogant, but I know I'm beautiful. (Oh, and in case this post was too roundabout of a way to say it, you are, too. Ravishingly beautiful.)

One of my favorite verses: Song of Solomon 4:9-10 "You have captivated my heart, my sister, my bride; you have captivated my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace. How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your oils than any spices!"

The year of "yes"

This past year has been one heck of a ride! For a while I thought of this year as "the year of travel." I have, after all, been many places. But really, it hasn't.

My 27th year has been the year of "yes."

In January of 2014 I was reading the book "Love Does" by Bob Goff. (If you haven't read it, you should!) Goff talks about the many things he has done over the course of his life and how God brought about these crazy events. While reading, I wondered how one accomplishes so many things. How do these events happen to one person? One quote totally stuck out to me and transformed how I view life. In his book, Goff states “I used to think you had to be special for God to use you, but now I know you simply need to say yes.”

Say yes. That's all it takes! 

Sounds good in theory, but nobody was banging down my door, begging me to come do crazy things with them. The thing of it is, though, the more you say yes, the more God trusts you to say yes, and the more opportunities He gives you.

After completing the book, I felt like the Lord was calling me to go to South Africa for two months. I SAID YES. I spoke with the missionary who was there in Durban (Pr. Greg and his wife Kristin!), spoke with people I trusted, and turned in my five month notice at work. I was amazed at how many people supported me in my endeavor! There were so many times that I didn't think the money was going to come through, but the Lord kept providing.

While in South Africa, I didn't know what I was going to do for a job or where I was going to live once I returned. A few weeks before I left, Sarah and Matt, whose house I lived in, asked me to nanny for their daughter Jasmine once I returned. Included in my pay was a place to live! I SAID YES. I was nervous, and wanted to quit several times a day the first week, but found that being her nanny was one of the most rewarding things I had ever done. Also, I miss her like crazy. 

Matt and Sarah had to go out to Arizona for their jobs for two months and asked me to go with them and keep Jasmine. I SAID YES. My time there was not always easy, but it's what I needed. I went on my first two hikes there, even though they intimidated me. I SAID YES. I even drove 7 hours to Vegas to see my grandparents! And during the 26 hours of driving from Sierra Vista back to Augusta, I saw Jaclyn and Amory, who I have known since I was only a few months old and haven't seen in 20 years, visited Monroe, Louisiana (Duck Dynasty!), and saw my old roommate Amy!

Matt and Sarah were re-stationed in July and asked me to drive a 26-foot uhaul, pulling Sarah's car behind it. What the heck. I SAID YES. (Although let's be real, I said no many times during the drive. It was a bit scary at times.) But I did it! 

And then in June I found out that I had been accepted into the Master's of Social Work program at Georgia State University. Moving to Atlanta scared the daylights out of me, but with the encouragement of family and friends, I just kept on. I SAID YES.

Want to know how to do amazing things and seeing God blow you away? Just start by saying yes.

The coolest parts of this story? 1. There were many more things that happened that I didn't include in this 2. I'm not done saying yes! I'm not done with this crazy adventure!

When Tiramisu Steals Your Worship

Let's be honest, folks. I'm a little ADD. (Not diagnosed or anything, but I probably could be.)

I actually had this blog written in my head on Monday. And have stared at the ipad intending to write it since then.  And have found other things to distract me every single time.

UGH.

What were we talking about?

Tiramisu. Right.

One of my favorite things to do is worship. I love when the world stops its craziness for a little while and we get to corporately focus our eyes on God. I love my alone time in worship as well for the same reason. I love that I get to be in two worship services on Sunday mornings, giving everything I have.

But sometimes, I think about Tiramisu.

This past Sunday was a great day. I was excited about worship and knew that it was going to be powerful. In the first service I was singing and suddenly realized that I wasn't thinking about the words, about God, about anything along those lines. I was thinking about the Tiramisu I had made the day before.

At that point I had two choices: to recenter my thoughts or to feel condemned. Usually I fall into the second habit, the one where all of a sudden my praise becomes questioned.

I wonder if I was really engaged or if it was just habit. I wonder if the congregation knows that a person they thought was genuinely leading was just drooling over a dessert. I wonder if what I was doing was really pointless because I wasn't actually paying attention. But that morning I came to the understanding that tiramisu was not stealing my worship. Condemnation was.

I believe firmly that God knew what He was doing when He made me. I believe that He knows my ins and outs. He knows that I sometimes struggle with concentration. One of my favorite verses is Psalm 139:13

"You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so complex! Your workmanship is marvelous - how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can't even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me!"

That was from the NLT version. Only the first sentence is verse 13, but sometimes the bible is just too good to stop at one verse.

One of my passions is knitting and crocheting, and I love the imagery from that first verse. I can see God touching every stitch of my being; lovingly making sure that I am formed beautifully and wonderfully.

So God knows. He knows that I'm slightly ADD. He knows that sometimes my thoughts are going to wander. And so He calls me back. He calls me out of the daze when I'm thinking about Tiramisu (or whatever!) and calls me back to worship. It's when I allow the other thoughts to enter in and distract me that I am letting other things steal my worship.

God is jealous for our love. Jealous for our affection. Because He knows that in Him alone is there truly fullness of joy, fullness of life, fullness of love. And He longs to shower that affection on us.

So don't let self-condemnation steal your worship. Thinking about Tiramisu? Cool. Once you realize it, recenter your thoughts on God and God alone.

And then later, go eat a big piece of that dessert.

What day is "One day?"

If I were to say to you, "What do you hope to accomplish one day?" what would your response be? For me in the past, my list looked something like this:

One day I will:

Go to Africa (I didn't care where)
Get my Master's degree
Learn to decorate cakes
Get married
Have children
Get my finances in order
Buy a better car
Save money
Change the world
Rescue girls from sex trafficking
Lose weight/Get healthier

All of those things are good things. Really, they are. But what day is "one day'? Is there this magical day that the president comes on and declares a national One Day Holiday?

Yeah that would be a "no."

One day, if we don't put a date on it, could easily never come to pass. So I have decided to be intentional.

If you know me, you know that I am not the most organized person in the world. A good friend actually pointed it out to me and challenged me in that area. A friend that I didn't even realize was aware that I am unorganized. I insist on being organized at work and school, but look at my personal life and you'll see a totally different side.

(Side note: if you don't have friends who are willing to point out your weaknesses and challenge you in those areas, you should get some.  Those are true friends.)

I have had to write out literal lists and make myself take a good look at how I spend my days in order to start accomplishing some of these things. I have had to look at my weakness and determine that my disorganization will no longer rule my life.

So what do you do? What do you do when your list is full of "one days"?

You put a date on them. You look at them and say "this is the day that it will happen."

Some things you may have to stop life to do. Most things you can accomplish in your everyday life.

Going to South Africa? That took two months. Two months which helped to reboot my life, to recenter my focus.

Grad school meant writing out an application and putting money towards that application.

But cake decorating takes one day a week. Saving money and putting it aside for a better car just takes actual determination to not spend everything that comes in. Making a budget takes time to sit down and create, and determination to stick to it. Losing weight is a daily determination to eat healthy foods.

Getting married and having children is not something that I can just make happen, but I can become the person that I want to be as a wife and mother.

National Day of One Day is never going to happen. Life isn't going to slow down so that you can do those things that you've always wanted to accomplish. In fact if you're not careful, life will pass you by and those dreams will just stay dreams.

Let today be one day. Go. Do.

The Shock of Reverse Culture Shock

"It'll never happen to me."

"I've read about it, I know about it, I know how to avoid it."

"I've lived in America for 27 years. What is there to be shocked about?"

"I've gone to this church for 11 years. No way my 'place' can become an insecurity in two months."

"My friends can't change that much in two months."

"Africa will be different. Not America."

These are all things I told myself before I left for Africa. Even though I had read missionary blogs, had spoken with people about their experiences, and even had the missionaries I was working with in South Africa tell me that I was going to go through reverse culture shock, I didn't believe them. In fact, I thought this knowledge was going to prevent me from going through this. Boy, was I wrong.

So, so, so, so wrong. 

My travel back to the states was anything but fun. I spent a total of 24 hours on a plane returning from Africa, and another 10 hours in airports. That is a long stinking time. So I thought that when I arrived baack in America, everything would be fine. I would be ok just as long as I was back on home turf. 

Wrong.

When I arrived in the JFK airport in New York I got confused by the bathroom terminology and kept asking where the toilets were. In the bathroom, duh. And gross! Stop asking about toilets. The terminal I arrived in and the terminal I left from were not the same thing, so I had to take a bus to the other terminal. As I got onto the bus I noted that the driver was on the wrong side of the bus. Oh, well, sometimes places do that because it's easier on them somehow. Whatever. But then, another vehicle came at us from the other direction. And all of a sudden, I realized that I didn't know which side of the road it was supposed to pass us on, and I thought we were going to crash. Once the bus passed us, I also realized that the driver was on the correct side of the bus. 

Uh-oh. 

Once safely in Atlanta, I was relieved just to get into the car with my dad and go home. That is, until we were about 30 minutes down the road. And then I just. couldn't. wear. a. seatbelt. any. longer. I had a mini-panic attack right there in the car. (24 hours of seatbelts will do that to you.) It was a two-hour ride home. Make that 26 hours of seatbelts. I also found that I couldn't watch the other side of the road, because I felt like they were wrong. 

Over the next few weeks there were things that continually overwhelmed me. I had a difficult time driving for a while because I couldn't figure out which lane was the fast lane. I occupied the middle lane for about a month. There were times that turning left stressed me the heck out. Once in the middle of Wal-Mart I froze because they had entirely too many canned goods. And I continually called the bathroom a "toilet." 

The point is, nothing can really prepare you for reverse culture shock. And nobody can cure it for you. Thankfully I had friends who were willing to be there for me when I was so overwhelmed that I felt like I couldn't function. When I realized that my friends had continued to live their lives without me in my absence. Friends who let me know it was ok to feel insecure and that I would one day regain my footing in my relationships. And I am so grateful for those people. There were also people who didn't understand, and that's ok.

If there is anything that I have learned, it's this:

Never assume you're too good for anything. Just because you're informed doesn't mean it won't happen to you.

2. Know when to ask for help. I am in counseling right now and it's the best decision I could have made.

3. Every experience is different. Everyone will go through reverse culture shock in their own way, so assuming that your experience should be like theirs or that someone should deal with it like you did is wrong.

4. Don't be afraid to admit to your friends when you're having a difficult time. There were times when my friends didn't understand me (especially in those first few weeks) that I wish I had asked them to have patience with me, I wasn't exactly certain what continent I was on.

Today I feel like I am finally settling into a new normal. I can never go back to the way things were, but that is ok. I wouldn't trade Africa for anything.

And I swear that there are monkeys in my neighborhood late at night. Until I get close enough to see that they're cats. But I swear, they're monkeys. 

This one time when I went to South Africa and was never the same

For those who may or may not know, I recently returned from spending two months in South Africa. Man, that feels weird to say. (There are several posts about why I was going and somewhat of what happened while I was there. If I were blog-savvy, they would be linked here. But, alas, you must scroll down my homepage to see those posts.) Some of you may have also noticed that I didn't post a lot about what happened. A few have asked, others have waited for me to bring it up.

Let's be honest, there may be some of you who gave me money and are wondering why. What did I do, go on a two month vacation?! Paid for by my friends and family?! Don't worry, I don't begrudge you those questions. I understand them completely. And, if you'll allow, I hope to address them.

August 1 I flew out of Atlanta and started the journey to South Africa. Let me tell you, it was an adventure getting there. One which I chose to withhold until I returned for the sake of everyone's nerves. Let's just say, New York City and I aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. Although it is a pretty funny story.

So the first week we spent going to schools and meeting the locals. During the evenings we attended a conference being held at the Life Church (who we were there to serve) Wednesday evening through Sunday morning. Sunday morning was their four year anniversary, and it was amazing getting to celebrate with all of the new faces I had been praying for, for so long.

The following week I found out that a few things had occured during some of the services, and long story short, the church ended up having to shut its doors for good.

Thankfully because I had not been at the church for a long time, I was not emotionally wounded by what happened, but was greatful to be in South Africa to help the pastor's family. For a while before I left people had asked me what I was going to do, and I didn't have any straight answers. I believe that this was so that I didn't go with expectations, just to have them crushed. The Lord knew what was going to happen and had me there to help the pastor's family through the transition, as well as teaching me some things about myself (which I will share in a later post).

Thank you so much to everyone who supported me and gave. I was able to see some of the ministries that are happening in and around Durban, was able to help out at a local high school for a while, and most impoortantly was there for a family that was hurting and just needed the hands of Jesus. I could not have done it without you.

(And please, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.)

Africa Update 3: On Western Perceptions

I was told by Pr. Greg yesterday that we would be going to an orphanage this morning, but not a whole lot of details about the place itself.

I want you to think for a moment what you might expect, what thoughts run through your head when you hear "orphanage" in an African country.

Now bear in mind that I had the benefit of knowing that South Africa is nowhere near the same as many of the other countries, nothing like "Kisses from Katie."

But still, nothing prepared me for what I was about to see.

Instead of orphans, I found ...

Adoption.

I found the lonely placed in families.

I found six small, beautiful faces who don't have to wonder if they're ever going to be adopted, ever going to be loved enough to be given a forever family.

Apparently the Ingani Yami Children's Village is modeled after the Watoto school in Uganda. If you've never heard of them, you should definitely look them up!

The point of the village is not to just have orphans, but instead they bring in mothers who adopt the children. They are allowed to have no more than a total of six children, biological children included. (I think that number is correct.) The village has built homes for them where they have bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. A real home.

But let's be real, here. I'm a Westerner. I was expecting tons of little brown children, running around, looking for someone to adopt them, but instead found just six little ones, who are totally content in their homes because they have already been adopted. And just for a moment, I was selfish. Just for a moment, I wished that I had seen a traditional orphanage.

And just as quickly as that thought came, I heard The Lord in my spirit whispering that this is so much better. The beauty of adoption is His plan! These children are blessed more than they can know.  And instead of wishing that they were like the others, I wish that every orphanage looked like this one. I wish that every child knew that they are worth someone leaving their own community, moving to where the need is, and adopting beautiful little children. Showing them that they are precious in the sight of God.

Today, I didn't see an orphanage.

I saw a little glimpse of heaven.