Salve for My Soul

I love blogging. It really is a salve for my soul.

This one might be a little scattered as I continue to process the events and emotions that have been happening in and around me as of late.

It's an interesting time in my life. I have so much joy that's exuding from me. So many great people surround me. I've made some incredible friends in the past month. Friends that I can only pray God will let me hold onto as lifers. I also have had the chance to really look into the hearts and lives of old friends. Some of these old friends love Jesus, some don't. I've never been the type to stick with a "clique." I have quite a few friends that are a bit older than me (like 25+ years older). I have lots of friends that are boys. I have a few solid Christian girlfriends, and a few girlfriends that don't know Jesus at all. And I love every single one of these people. They make my life richer, fuller, more diverse. I learn lessons from each individual. Vastly different lessons, but their experiences let me see God in new and fresh ways. Keep me on my toes. Don't ever let me become complacent.

A friend of mine blogged that we shouldn't become numb to tragedy. I'm numb. I'm numb to any negative thing that's happening in my life right now. There is so much joy that I want to focus on that I am simply not allowing myself to process the hard stuff. I'm sick of the hard stuff. I want to live a life of joy. I'm aware that this is not healthy. Even more reason for me to talk to a professional. Over the past couple of years I've learned that I live in denial. It's a horrible trait. It bottles up, and then I snap. Not in an angry way, but my emotions just flow out of me in the form of tears and screams. Panic attack style. I pray for the dear souls that are around me when all my denial flows out in what I'm anticipating the near future. I apologize in advance. I don't purposely deny these feelings. I wish I could grieve now instead of later. I wish I knew how to let my heart hurt again. I shed a tear or two the other day at church when the Pastor was talking about the Aurora shooting, I've shed a tear or two while reading the stories that have come from this tragedy, and I sobbed on my bed for a bit the day after it happened (I think this was more due to exhaustion though). Otherwise, I feel numb. I had a panic attack when our own beloved Spencer took his life, but then when Claire took hers, I simply shut down and I don't think I've allowed myself to feel loss since then. I was brokenhearted when I lost my Grandfather in May. I did cry. But not at all in the way I would have expected myself to cry. I still expect to see him at some family gathering in the near future. I don't truly believe he is really gone. There are other tragedies in my life I have not yet processed and know I'm in denial about. I simply pretend they never happened. I am numb to grief. Pray for the day it all comes out.

Some of you may already know this all too well about me (coughJessicaTaylorRichie) but I am great at living in false joy. Pretending that I'm happy, that I think life is great, making sure to keep a smile on my face and living strong because those around me need me to when deep inside I'm fatally bleeding and hurting. Although there are a couple of things I am refusing to grieve, I really do believe that for the first time in years I am living with a happy and joyful heart. Thank Jesus for delievering me from my past and giving me a future to look forward to. Thank Jesus for allowing me to live in the present state I am living in. Thank Jesus for community, for family, for a job I love. I love loving people, and He has given me so many people to love. What a wonderful way to walk through life.

I have a servant and givers heart. Christmas and Birthdays are so awesome. You get to take entire days to spoil people. Christmas you get to do it in mass numbers, and Birthdays you get to make a single person feel overly loved and special for an entire day (or if you're friends with me, an entire week or weekend). What a cool thing. It's almost more of a present to myself when these days come along. Giving brings joy to my heart. Loving people the way they deserved to be loved puts a huge smile on my face. I have the worst time receiving (see "Lake" post) but giving, yeah, that's my forte. I get to serve, love, and spoil my smf (have people figured out who this special man is yet?) this weekend. It's his 26th Birthday. Woohoo! I'm ready to fast forward to Saturday morning so that I can shower him and spoil him. You might argue that we should life this way everyday. Don't get me wrong, I think we need to love big all the time. We know not to take life for granted and were recently reminded that our last day may in fact be today. But I also value special days. Days we do things we don't daily have the time or resources to do. It's ok to be extravagant sometimes.

"I've reminded before but I'll do it again, "Seize life! Eat bread with gusto, drink wine with a robust heart. Oh yes -- God takes pleasure in your pleasure! Dress festively every morning. Don't skimp on colors and scarves. Relish life with the spouse you love. Each and every day of your precarious life. Each day is God's gift. It's all you get in exchange for the hard work of staying alive. Make the most of each one! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily! This is your last and only chance at it." -Ecclesiates 9:7-10

If I  lived this way everyday, I would never get anything done. I accept the challenge to make the most of each day. But every once in a while, GO REALLY BIG. When it's time to celebrate your loved ones--celebrate them in the way Jesus has commanded. Love big. Love hard.

Sad.Confused.Grasping for Joy

I am so confused right now. My emotions have no idea what they are doing. I am sure it doesn't help that I got a maximum of two hours of sleep last night. It probably also doesn't help that I'm a woman. Yeah, I said it. Hormones are my worst enemy.

I went and saw the Dark Knight Rises with Sean and Tim. I was happy to be there. Happy to be sitting next to two great guys, sharing in a midnight "adventure," pretending I was a teen again. I fought sleep the entire time.

The three of us shook our heads every time the theater would break out in applause and cheering due to either the start of the movie, Batman's first appearance, or the introduction of Robin's character. It is silly to cheer at movies. I understand they are great entertainment. But they are not real. And they are simply that: entertainment. Here was Sean's insight: These people don't live their own adventures and instead resort to making fantasy their reality. So sad to me. This point was just further drawn after we learned of the shooting, and the dude dressed as a bad guy with Joker hair who claimed to be the Joker. What the hell is wrong with people? I understand being lonely. Being lonely sucks. But how does taking other people's life's help? My happiness quickly turned sour when I learned of this tragedy. It brought me back to Columbine when I was a little girl. I didn't go to school the next day. I just laid in bed, trying to understand with an underdeveloped and naive brain what the hell happened. Why would people want to kill other people? Well now I'm a grown up. And I still don't understand. When I got home last night I researched all I could about what was happening. I didn't sleep. And instead of being able to lay in the safety of my own bed all day today and ponder why this world is so broken, I'm at work. Sleep deprived. Brokenhearted. Confused. When all I want to do is be rejoicing for the great people and events that are happening in my life.

I've also been struggling with someone very dear to my heart. For a while now. They are in a dark place. As hard as I've tried to help them and show them my love, things are just not pretty. It breaks my heart for them, for me, for my relationship with them. It's toxic for me to be around and it's hard to love them when they bring me down. It's hard to actively love them when I feel like my life is in such a great place. I will forever love this person. Unconditionally. But it's hard to display this love by investing in them right now. I pray this changes.

I'm paranoid about losing the things that God has placed in my life. It's that whole thing I write about over and over again. I need to relinquish control and trust that God's will will be done. So much easier said than done. I say it all the time. I don't believe it at all. Even when I try to practice it. I read too much into things. There is probably nothing to read at all. And God's plan is what is best for my life. Why can't I trust that?

Let's just throw all of that on top of the "secret" I wrote about in my last blog that I am now trying to process. Life is so complicated. Life is so confusing. I don't get it. Thank goodness I don't have to. Thank goodness all that matters is God's love. And God's plan. I am here for Him, because of Him, and at His mercy.

Secrets

I like to blog when I'm on the elliptical. Funny place to blog, I know. But it makes me get lost in my thoughts instead of focusing on the sweat dripping down my face and the heavy breathing.

Before you read on, this is a heavy post. I've let it sit for a couple days as I've prayed about it. My blog is here to share with the people I love. And to let people know me. And to witness God's miracles through my life. And hopefully to impart His love as I experience it. This is my heart. If you find yourself reading this, please respect that. And if you can't, push the close button on this post right.about.now.

Lately I've been processing my deepest and darkest secret. Its an ugly one. A painful one. I was in denial about it for about 8 months, but then realized my special man friend probably needed to know about it. I had told a couple girlfriends right when it happened, then did everything in my power to brush it aside and pretend it was no big deal. Here's the thing. It is a huge deal. It's something thats going to effect me the rest of my life. Its going to effect the way I live in relationship with people, the way I act around strangers, the way I walk down the street. I've been in denial about this too. That if I act like it didn't happen, then I'll live like it didn't happen. Reality is it did happen. When I told my special man friend (let's call him smf from here on out) it was the first time I cried over it. It was the first time I felt that it was real. It was the first time I acknowledged that I need help. Ok, and to be fair, I didn't acknowledge I need help, he acknowledged that I need help. Life is hard. Life hurts. And I am so grateful that God is giving me people to help me and love me through it. I was terrified that my smf would have been angry, or mad at me, or no longer want anything to do with me. He wasn't. He sat, listened, wrapped his arms around me, and displayed God's love for me.

I had my first dream about this secret two nights ago. A dream you can't shake. I woke up crying. I was terrified. It was the most vivid dream I've ever had. I remember what the other people in it were wearing, what I was wearing, I felt touch, I smelled the streets, I heard the cries. This secret has worked its way from the deepest place in my bones, to my subconscious, and now I need to get help so that I may live fully in His grace without fear.

 Thank you all for loving me, even though I am broken.

Tatted Up

I've never blogged about my tattoos before, and to me this is kinda strange. They are an important part of my body, they are an important part of me. They are not something God gave to me "...I am fearfully and wonderfully made." -Psalm 139:14, but are ways in which I decided I was going to alter what God created. That is a big responsibility. I didn't get any of my six tattoos without thinking about that. People often ask me if I regret any of the tattoos I have. Trust me. I don't. People also ask how I can decide on something that's going to be a permanent addition to my wonderfully and perfectly made body. Here are the stories behind each:

#1: A simple black cross with three dots going down the side to represent the trinity. I designed this one when I was 17 preparing for my 18th birthday when I could sneak off and get a tattoo without my parent's permission. It lays on my right hip bone. I've been told a time or two that this is a completely inappropriate place to have a symbol of Jesus. And those that tell me this are completely correct. But it was a place easily hidden from my parents. I was a rebel at this age, and yeah, I thought it was sexy. Granted, the meaning of the cross was important to me at the time and the trinity was a concept that I had newly wrapped my head around. But the reason for getting the tattoo and the placement were simply a rebellious act. This is who I was then. When my parents learned of this tattoo (frickin' AOL instant messenger) they took all my high school graduation money from me as my punishment. To this day, I haven't seen a cent of it. It was one of many battles I had with my parents over the next couple years for my independence and coming of age. I got there though. And that tattoo is a reminder of where I've come from and a reminder of what Jesus Christ did on that cross for me.

#2: God's large beautiful hands holding a heart. The left side of the heart is beaten and ugly and the right side is glowing and pure. Inside the heart is the verse Proverbs 4:23 (which reads, "Above all else guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.") This gorgeous piece of art lays just above the tramp stamp area of my back and reaches to the top of my bra line. It spans the entire width of my back. Placement for this one was because it was a big flat surface and at the time I wanted no tattoos to be visible for the day I would eventually wear a wedding dress. The significance of this tattoo comes from one of my biggest strengths and at the same time my biggest weakness. I love hard. And I get hurt...hard. My heart is transformed and made new in God's hands. He will always be the keeper of my heart. I give my heart away easily and it's been broken and hurt more times than I want to count. I need to always remember to guard my heart. And I need to always remember who holds my heart.

#3: Five large plumeria start at my right armpit and weave their way down to the cross on my hip bone. They lay on some decorative, deep red, frilly stuff. This piece was eventually supposed to get colored in but after a brutal four hour session, I have vowed to never let a tattoo artist touch my side again. My family grew up taking trips to Maui, Hawaii every winter. Some of my fondest memories of my mom, dad, Chris, and Ryan come from our times spent in Hawaii. It's a sacred place for my family. Over the years I have fallen in love with the plumeria flower. The simplicity, beauty, and intoxicating smell that come from it are wondrous. Each flower tattooed on my side represents a member of my immediate family (including myself) and is a reminder that no matter what happens in this crazy thing called life, they will always be by my side. They're not going anywhere. Lifers. I know they will always love me and I will always love them. They've seen me at my absolute best and absolute worst. They've carried me through the trenches and praised my accomplishments. This is a tribute to them. They are beautiful.

#4 & #5: The words Faith and Hope are tattooed on the underside of my left forearm and the words Grace and Love are on the same place on my right. They are done in beautiful black script and are outlined in bright red. I see these words countless times a day. I did this on purpose, and the pairings are not an accident. The reason God gave us the gift of Grace is because He loves us. Without His love, there would be no reason for Grace. Without Hope, we cannot have faith. Faith is defined as "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." -Hebrews 11:1. If your Hope is in Jesus Christ, than you can have Faith. I need to be constantly reminded of these things. I need to keep my Hope in the Lord so that I may have Faith in Him and I need to remember that He Loves me so much that he gave me Grace, a gift I won't ever deserve.

#6: The words "Loves you all" in my Grandpa Stucka's very own handwriting are on the inside of my right lower leg. This one is pretty self explanatory. Grandpa left us May 18, 2012. I love this man dearly. I miss him more than you can imagine. He loved better than most people can dream to. Although he would say something like, "What the hell did you do that for?" I want a piece of him with me everywhere I go. He physically may be in heaven, but his presence in my life is not going anywhere.


My tattoos are important to me because they tell my story. They are a timeline of where I've been, of what has been important to me, and they are constant reminders of who I am. They are artwork, stories, lessons learned, and tributes to those I love.

Can guys and girls just be friends?

Ok. I need some prayer help. Sometimes, with some people, I have a very short patience fuse. It usually happens with guys. I have this horrible issue of being a BIG flirt. I got in lots of trouble with this in high school. But it comes from me enjoying and relating better to guys than I do girls. Plus, I like being nice to people. I like making people feel good about themselves. Sometimes this comes off as leading people on. I ask the question all the time, "Can't I just be friends with a guy?" I'll be friends with a male, they think it's something more, I stop talking to them for a while in hopes they'll get the hint that although I'd like to be their friend I don't want anything more, then they start talking to me again, and the cycle starts all over. I get overly annoyed when I straight up tell someone that I'm dating someone else and they still pursue me for more than a friendship. I get annoyed when people pretend or think they know me when they don't at all. If you know me, great. If you don't, don't say things to me that you have no right to say. Don't try to wedge yourself into situations that I don't want you in. If I'm dating someone else, there are parts of my heart that really, in order to respect me and the guy I'm dating, you really should steer clear of anyway. I don't want you to know me any more than I give. You'll know if I want more than a friendship. And if you want to be my friend and know that there are lines that you shouldn't cross, I'll probably let you see more of my heart. If I've rejected you once, I'll probably do it again. And if it's meant to be, it'll happen. Be my friend, but if you can't strictly be my friend, then don't. Spare us both the awkward and uncomfortable pain.

Please pray that God would give me patience with these people. Please pray that God would protect my heart. Please pray that God would protect their hearts. Please pray that God would protect the "special" people in my life's hearts. Please pray that God would protect my friends hearts.

Lake

Life. It is so cool. I am so grateful for my situation right now. When I sit back and think about where I was a year ago, tears come to my eyes. Tears of joy because I have been delievered from such awful darkness. At this time last year I was isolated from my family and friends. I was far from God. I was scared, alone, hurting, and being hurt. I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. God said no. God said, "I have something bigger and better for you. You are mine and I am going to deliever you from a future life of abuse." Here I am today. I've got new friends that love Jesus, that care for me, and that are a whole lot of fun to be around. I am closer to my brother's and sister-in-law than I have ever been, and I have a beautiful baby nephew. God has taught me to be grateful and to find joy in all things. And he has taught me to live my life in the moment. Although anxiety still plagues me, He is slowly teaching me to trust His voice and His hand. He alone is in control.

God has been pounding the same lesson into my heart lately. Crazy how the same lesson shows up in the book I am reading, the sermons I've been hearing, the songs I've been listening to, and the conversations that I've engaged in. He wants me to hear it. And he wants me to obey.

We went to the lake yesterday. It was awesome. To be around people enjoying the sun and water, to be with people that I respect and care for. To feel the heat and see the gorgeous rolling hills behind the water. Couldn't have asked for a better day. I sat with two awesome men and we talked about some real heart matters. I can't emphasize how lucky I am to have people in my life that care about me and that want what's best for me. We talked a lot about grace. About the best things in our lives right now. About what it is like to be valued by our king. One of the guys I was with doesn't know me very well. I mean, he and I have had a couple of conversations, but we don't see each other all that often and I've only known him for about 5 weeks now. As we were talking, and although I think I briefly have mentioned this to him before, he pointed out one of my biggest weaknesses. Ouch. Albeit he did it in such a loving and serving way. As you may or may not know, I do not have very high self worth and I have the hardest time letting people love and serve me. My past has defined this part of my heart. I've dated and hung out with guys all my life that have continuely told me how worthless I am and treated me that way. I've been used. I've never felt valued. You start to believe and live out the words that are drilled into your head, even if you know better. Sean told me that my worth is only given to me by Jesus. And that's all that matters. I may not deserve it, but it was given to me. And to Jesus, I am a precious daughter. This all came up because I tried to take our beer bottles and cans to the trash can, and Sean told me to sit down and let him serve  me. That sucked. Letting him serve me, even in that small way, was painful. I watched him walk to that trash can with a grimace on my face. Yet all I want to do for other people is serve them. I want to clean for them, I want to listen to them, I want to take them to dinner, to treat them to drinks, to give backs rubs, to bake and cook for them, to give them rides to the airport, to be a drink holder, to do their laundry, to keep them company when they don't want to be alone. You name it, I want to do it. I want to serve and make other people feel special. As Sean and I were telling Tim that we want to take him out and spoil him for his Birthday weekend, I felt like a hypocrite. Sean said that serving other people is also serving yourself because you feel good about yourself by making other's feel good. I can't let other people make me feel good. Why can't I accept the love and gifts that other people try to give me? I would rather die serving other people than letting anyone ever serve me. I get uncomfortable getting my nails done, or paying to get a massage because someone else is serving me. I hate getting my hair cut because someone else has to perform a service for me. It's super uncomfortable for me when other people try to pay for things, even when I'm going on dates. Heck, I can't let someone else walk to the trash can for me. Why do I feel so devalued? Why have I been conditioned to believe the lie that I don't matter, that my life is meager and not worthy, that I should be the one that bows down at everyone's feet? And why am I ok with it? I know the truth. I know it's a lie that I'm worthless, yet I am so uncomfortable when treated otherwise.