The Year of Dessert First
All my friends have been posting photos of their year from Facebook. I've always been more of a words person, so here is my year in words.
I didn't write much this year. I started out 2014 unemployed and depressed, scared that I may never want to write again. While at first this terrified me, I found God whispering something new to me, in the midst of my own silence.Live My love story. I started this blog a few years back specifically to "Write My Love Story," to share the story of God's audacious love in my life. I didn't know how to experience God apart from writing. Writing is prayer. Writing is life. For me, at least.But I'd lost writing. And, consequently, it felt like I lost God.In this year of silence. Of words not typed out on pages or scribbled across receipts. I lost my writing, but I found I didn't lose me.I don't have to write for my life to be real. For my prayers to be real. I don't have to write at all to be a person. To be loved. To have worth.The life can just be mine. The thoughts just mine.If I had to pick a title for my year, I would call it "The Year of Dessert First." Not that I skipped all the healthy things or the hard work, but it's been a year of grace, where first accepting the dessert, the gifts, the grace, leads to health and wholeness, recovery. 
I could list all of my accomplishments of 2014: starting a graduate program in Linguistics, teaching a university level course, securing myself a boyfriend. But those are just the outside trappings. I stand back almost bewildered that this is my life now. I did nothing to deserve this. To earn this. And that's the beauty of it.When I look back on my year, the moments I cherish most, the feats I'm most proud of have nothing to do with a college acceptance letter or my relationship status.I'm proud that I persevered. That I continued with counseling even when it seemed nothing was improving. That I started a grad program even though I had no idea if I would have enough energy to even get out of bed in the morning, let alone do homework or attend classes. I'm proud that I had the privilege to invest in the lives of Alzheimer's patients as a caregiver in a last ditch employment attempt. I'm proud that I traveled to Israel and Palestine and let everyday peacemakers teach me something about grace. I'm proud of the moments I let my friends in, let them cry with me, sit with me, mourn with me and hope with me.With my boyfriend, I'm not boastful in my relationship status, but deeply moved by what he's taught me about grace and self-acceptance. I'm thankful for every moment he makes me feel that I am enough. Just as I am.I feel resurrected.This woman of words is at a loss to express the healing that's taken place. The peace I know.That phrase from the song, In Christ Alone, seems to say it best:What heights of love, what depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!There's a contentment within me that I never imagined possible. Not because I worked my ass off for self-love and self-acceptance as I have in the past. In fact, I didn't try at all. And I think that's the best medicine a recovering perfectionist can encounter. And I don't mean this as a formula. Not a how-to-get-over-depression-and-love-yourself DIY manual. But as my story of God's undeniable grace in my life this year.
grace from the disgrace
beauty from the ashes.
stillness to dancing.
And so I enter 2015, happily dancing and enjoying dessert.
Five Minute Friday: After
Happy Friday!For a few months now, I’ve the pleasure of participating in Lisa Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday blogging challenge. Every Friday, a group of eclectic bloggers turn off our inner critics and perfectionists and just write for five minutes straight. Zero editing. Just a stream of consciousness free for all. And then we all link up and encourage each other. To learn more about Five Minute Friday and how you can participate click here.This Friday's topic is AFTER.***Go. I thought that after I moved, it would all make sense. The burnout, therestlessness, the ache in my heart to live in a foreign country that never went away.Then, after I got settled, I would be happy.After I made more friends, I would feel home.After I set a schedule, I'd feel peace.After I started a new job, I've feel engaged and connected and alive.But it wasn't so.It's not that I'm not happy, it's just that I'm still waiting for the AFTER.After I get in shape, I'll be happy with my body.After I go to Spanish school, I'll be fluent and confident and no-longer-shy.After I write, I'll feel accomplished.After I pray, I'll be at peace.But the AFTER never comes.The waiting-for-something-better becomes a trap. A prison. A recipe for discontent.Because life isn't in the AFTER. God isn't in the AFTER.Life is HERE, right now. God is HERE, right now.
In the flowers on my table. In the words I tap-tap-type.That's the idea of GRATITUDE. The awakening of joy in the current moment.So I surrender my clinging to the AFTER. This unfreedom of waiting. The discontent of a life disjointed into BEFORE and AFTER.I forget the BEFORE and AFTER. I open my eyes to the HERE.