LOPES UP

Full disclosure: Bawled throughout writing all of this. In the best of ways.

In the past 4 years I have been all over the place--mentally, physically, spiritually, and definitely academically. But today is a monumental day for me and I can't stop rejoicing.

It is decided! It's official! I'm going to Grand Canyon University in the fall!

I want to shout it from the mountain tops. I want to get up in everyone's face and tell them how excited I am. Getting accepted into a university is certainly something worth celebrating, but this feels like so much more than that today. This is a new start for me. A chance to go to college because I'm passionate about my education, not just because it was the 'right thing to do' after high school.

I visited this school almost exactly a year ago and had a definite gut feeling. "I belong here," I thought. I know it was the Lord prompting me, too. "No thanks, God," I thought as I reminded Him that there was NO WAY I was gonna move. It was so far from home! I've lived in Colorado my whole life! I love the people here! What if I can't find a church I love in Arizona? What if it's hard to stay in touch with people back home? What if my husband is somewhere here in Colorado and I'm leaving without a chance of that happening now??

I'm so tired of making decisions based on what ifs, you guys. I'm especially tired of NOT making decisions based on what ifs. It's time to actually trust that God is good, he loves me AND he likes me, and he's gonna be glorified no matter what. My life really is his. I have to move forward in faith and know that even if it feels too new and uncomfortable and difficult at times, everything really is going to be okay. I can no longer put my life on hold because of what ifs. Waiting on the Lord is an action, not an excuse to sit around.

We say we believe God can do ANYTHING and yet we still live stagnant lives where we wait around for blessings and struggles to find us instead of suiting up and facing battles head-on. We put on the armor of God just to sit quietly in a fortress. We forget that we have been set apart in victory already and destined to be more than conquerors long ago.

I would rather have a life that I can truly enjoy than one that's comfortable. I'd rather be put in situations that continually force me to resort to trusting God than ones where he's merely a spectator to the madness of my life. Today I'm celebrating the victory of relinquishing control over what I thought my life should look like. Don't I know after all this time that God's plans are wayyy better than mine? Hasn't he even proved it to me time and time again?

My way of thinking is shifting. I'm done worrying about all the things that are uncertain. I mean, let's face it. I'm over worrying, period. Worry is misplaced trust. And I want no part of that anymore. If I'm worrying about something it means I'm trusting in anything other than God, who's totally got this under control by the way, and I'm super done wasting my time on that nonsense. I'm unapologetically moving forward in the things that make me come alive and it's the most freeing feeling I have had in quite some time. I'm finding out more and more about the character of God as I realize the parts of me that were created to reflect Him.

Today, through tears of joy and freedom and hope, I raise an Ebenezer stone. Thus far, the Lord has helped me. And he's not even close to being done yet.

Treasured in Her Heart

“So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.”

Luke 2:16-20

 

As Christmas quickly approaches, I constantly find myself in awe. I love everything about this season. I can't get enough of it. The lights, the sparkles, the joy... the feeling deep in my soul that everything really is going to be okay. Hope wells up within me. But OF COURSE I am gonna make this post about Jesus--if you know me at all you could have guessed that's where this was going. And yes, I get caught up in the hype of the parties and the lights and the joy and everything, but it's because Jesus is the source of my joy and he is so much more than just hype. I can't help but be excited about him. If anything, this is a cause for celebration.

This month above all others I get to celebrate the birth of a baby boy who would redefine salvation and ravage my heart with his eternal sacrifice. I will never apologize for doing that. I was brought to tears when reading this passage in Luke today (as I am whenever I truly stop and take a moment to realize just how magnificent Jesus is). Every December I am affected by consistent reminders of Jesus Christ. But I have seen some passages in a new light this year as I picture Mary and the things she experienced through the birth of a Savior and shaking of the world.

 

I think my favorite part of the entire passage above is the instance that speaks of what was going on inside Mary's heart and mind. Imagine the roller coaster of emotion! As shepherds, kings, rulers of nations, and anyone else who happened to be passing by came in and witnessed with their own eyes the majesty of this tiny child, Mary was treasuring things up in her heart. She was taking mental pictures of the divine encounters occurring. She witnessed for years souls being awakened because of her own obedience and faith. Out of the chaos surrounding a very controversial pregnancy, Mary had such supernatural trust in her Lord. Now THIS is a woman who knew firsthand the mighty power of God (and by woman, I mean girl, because most scholars put Mary right around the age of 14 when this all went down).

 

As she sat in a filthy stable with a newborn, multitudes came to visit. In Bethlehem, a small town known for raising sheep for sacrifice, came the lamb of God to be sacrificed for us. A king of humble beginnings. The world was shaking with an understanding that the Word had finally become flesh. I know what the presence of God feels like, but I can only imagine the peace that surrounded that little barn. History changed that day. Shepherds cautiously entered to visit a child they had heard about only to be overcome with praise for their God. All who heard about Jesus were amazed. You can't help but be overwhelmed when you meet him ace to face. The astounding faithfulness Mary was exercising was being rewarded over and again as person after person came into the stable to visit the Messiah only to have their hearts shifted forever. She got to see instant fruit from her radical dependence on God. The ultimate affection of her God was something she could fully understand now because of Jesus.

 

What really gets me choked up whenever I think about it is the relationship Mary and Jesus have until the very end of his earthly life. If you don't think it's vital to honor your mother, think again. Jesus, Savior of the world and all eternity, epitomized love to his mom. He knew so thoroughly the sacrifices she had to make to bring him into the world. He knew the audacious faith that ruled in her heart that enabled her to trust in the Lord her God. As a teenage, unmarried girl, she should have been killed for having a baby when she did. This kind of thing usually ended in assumed betrayal and either the woman's betrothed or her parents would have her killed so as to not bring dishonor onto the family. Mary understood that listening to what the angel told her about this baby had to be true or else she would be killed (most likely by her own family). She knew. And she went through with it because she trusted that God was who he said he was. This 14-year-old was the one God entrusted with His son because he knew that she was trustworthy, too. God takes nobodies and makes them somebodies when he knows that he'll be the one getting the glory still.

 

How do you parent somebody who is going to die for your sins in a few decades? Mary went into this whole thing with knowledge that this baby was the Savior of the world, capable of miracles, and still cared for him with such supernatural yet personal maternal instincts. She knew how to care for this beloved son because she was secure in her identity as a beloved daughter. When Jesus, as an adolescent, disappeared for three days, Mary endlessly searched until she found him:

 

"When he was twelve years old, they went up to the Feast, according to the custom. After the Feast was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it. Thinking he was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began looking for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “ Didn't you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he was saying to them. Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart."

Luke 2:42-51

 

Jesus seems to have a habit of disappearing for three days and then coming back, huh?

But that's another story...

Mary had an understanding that Jesus was going to shape eternity, and yet her heart was overwhelmed with affection at his obedience to her as his mother. She was worried about a lost child, yes, because she was a good mom. But the things she would treasure in her heart were the examples of Jesus' glory reflecting God's. Imagine the joy and pride she had that day in the temple courts. There's Jesus, who obviously knows everything even as a pre-teen boy, still respectfully asking questions of church leadership and opening up peoples' eyes to new truths. She got to see him do this for many years.

 

At age 33 Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice for us by dying on the cross for our sins. As his battered body hung as a sacrifice to wash away our iniquities, his loving mother stood at his feet. A mommy who new this was the plan from the start still had to suffer and incredible loss. As his blood dripped down and he breathed his final breaths, Mary watched and wept at the loss of her child. No matter how much she knew this was necessary for the salvation of the world, she had to stand and watch as her son whom she loved was tortured beyond compare. The baby she felt kick in her belly was tortured to death before her eyes. The divine understanding she had of God's plan still couldn't quiet her emotions. She looked up to the cross see a now disfigured man groaning in pain she could not mollify and was overcome with grief. In Jesus' final seconds of life he looked down to the wonderful woman who had raised him so beautifully and told her that he loved her. He commissioned John to comfort and care for Mary once he was gone. The Messiah himself, barely coherent because of the crucifixion he was suffering, used his final time to assure his mother would be taken care of (John 19).

 

Jesus' broken body hung on a cross while his mother reflected on the things she had been treasuring in her heart for more than thirty years. She remembered the impact of this tiny child so humbly birthed in a stable in a small town. The infant who instantly changed the disposition of anyone who came into his presence was now dying in front of her eyes to redeem the entire world forever. The boy who awed and inspired the teachers in the temple at the age of twelve was fulfilling the ultimate prophecy. Mary would remember every up and down of a boy's childhood as she watched the very same person die for her sins. This is a woman who entrusted her entire being to God's will.

 

Mary had mountain-moving faith. Faith to put God's will above her own. Faith to raise a child who was the Messiah, knowing full well that God's plan was so much bigger than she could ever imagine. It all started with her faithfulness at the knowledge of a divine pregnancy. A sprightly teenage girl who was pure of heart was the one God entrusted. She trusted God with her everything and He trusted her with the very reason we celebrate Christmas. As I celebrate the birth of my Savior, I am challenged by Mary's life. She knew what it meant to let God get all the glory and shape her life according to HIS will. She trusted God and his words no matter what it meant for the direction of her life. She would follow her God, no questions asked. Because of this woman's exemplary stewardship from the stable to the cross, I am reminded of what a life of faith really looks like. Imagine how our lives would be different if we trusted Him with abandon like Mary did.

Nothing More Rare, Nor More Beautiful

When someone takes a picture of me that I truly like, I say it out loud. Maybe several times. When I look in the mirror and smile because my makeup and hair just WORK that day? Right on. When I save that new outfit I bought to wear on a day that people will see me in it that's allowed. I have to let myself have these little moments, because I get to love myself... for a long time I didn't even used to like myself very much.

It gets thrown in your face that you're different when you are. I was bullied for a long time by thin girls because I didn't get to participate in clothes swaps or wear a bikini at the pool. Boys made lots of rude comments about my undesirability. I've always been big. That's just the facts. I was overweight even as a child and I have never been what anybody would consider to be skinny. I thought for a very long time that it meant I wasn't beautiful, either. It's easy to let other peoples' perceptions of you define how you see yourself (especially when they are constantly mean about it), but that doesn't mean it's right. It doesn't mean that they are right. Different size does not equal different worth.

Every person has high highs and low lows, and my lows were very, very low. I couldn't even accept the tiniest compliment. Some people thought it was false humility, but it truly was just because I couldn't agree with what was being said. Compliments felt sarcastic because there was no way anybody could think that I actually had pretty eyes or an infectious smile. They must have been mocking me, right?

It went on like this for years. It got to a point that I gave into insane dieting and other scarily unhealthy habits. During my second semester of college I lost 45 pounds in a little over 4 weeks. At the time I thought it was something to be proud of, but now I know for sure it was a destructive, terrifying time. Dropping pounds that quickly is DANGEROUS, y'all. But still, losing weight became a crazy obsession. I was convinced that only skinny people get husbands, good jobs, and happy lives. Nobody ever plans to spiral out of control, but down I spiraled anyways. I tried to quick fix my way into a new body and ended up depressed, disconnected, and extremely ill.

I had a migraine for five days and I can hardly even remember it because I was sleeping about 20 hours out of each of those days. I had stopped eating. I called a friend in my desperation and asked her to drive me to the clinic on campus. As I sat in the doctor's office, the IV slowly dripped much-needed nutrients back into my body. I decided in that moment that this destruction wasn't worth it. Becoming skinnier wasn't making me more beautiful at all. Being thinner wasn't a factor of my worth--not in the slightest.

Around the time I left college I really starting seeking the Lord and making Him the absolute priority of my life. Slowly but surely, healing came. Truth came.
I have always been beautiful, and being fat or skinny didn't even have a place in the matter.
There it was. Indescribable relief. Uncontainable joy.

Even now as I sit here and type this out, quiet tears drip down my face for the wasted years of disbelief in the beauty of who I am. For far too long I was concerned with what other people thought or said instead of what I know to be true about the way God sees me. A God who surely does not make mistakes created me on purpose for a purpose. I'm loved and I can't earn more of it because that number on the scale is smaller.

Beauty isn't even about what my waistline looks like. Yours, either. We have to stop letting that even be a part of the equation, people. Otherwise how are we ever going to be happy? 

A beautiful smile is one that is heartfelt, not just one with straight teeth. You can be a size zero or a size 16 your whole life, but it's your kindness, humor, and willingness to just be yourself that will always be what people remember most about you. That little freckle you hate is somebody's favorite thing about your face. Your laugh that you stifle because you think it isn't ladylike might be the one thing that changes the direction somebody's day is going. Be who you are, for goodness' sake. God didn't make you a certain way so you could try and be more like anyone else, or even just more pleasing to everyone else.

I'm on my way, you guys, but I haven't made it. I still have bad days when I get down on myself, sure. But that nonsense can't compete with the truth of who I am in God. NO WAY. Sadness is so fleeting in the presence of God. Depression does not stand a chance. Truth wins out. I'm fearful and wonderful and nothing's gonna ever change that.

So when that picture of me gets posted by a friend and I exclaim aloud, "Aww I look so cute!", please know that my own words are literally healing me. It's not because I think I'm a supermodel. Ha! Definitely not that... It's because I am looking at a picture of a genuinely happy person. A healing, crazy, funny, loud, singing, dancing, big, emotional, imperfect person in progress. I'm worthy. I remind myself as much as I need to because my God reminds me as much as I need it. I finally believe in what I'm saying. I am confident in myself because I am confident in the God who made me the way HE wanted to. From my head to my toes, I love myself. Heck, I even like myself. I like to think that's pretty beautiful.

A Little Pizza Thankfulness

What started out as a long-winded joke has turned into something more like a social experiment and I cannot help but share all of the things I'm learning from this experience. By now, if you know me well and follow me on social networking of any kind, you have inferred that I am a lover of pizza. I have been posting about it every single day this month as sort of a "30 Days of Thankfulness Challenge", only a lot more ridiculous.

Y'all know I'm about this.

I was sitting in my friend's apartment at the beginning of this month and joking with her that I wanted to do a thankfulness a day challenge, but, like, with food every day. It would be hilarious. "What if you just did pizza every day?!" she exclaimed. The idea was born and the rest is history. From that day forward I posted a pizza a day (and will continue on until the end of the month). It has never been a jab at others posting things they are thankful for--believe me when I say that I, too, am truly grateful for my friends, family, job, and Savior. This was always meant to be lighthearted and a fun, silly thing for me.

What I never could have anticipated is the many lessons I am learning from this silliness:

1. When you're vocal about something, people notice.

I have just been posting pizza. That's it. Sometimes my caption will have a pun and other times it will just be straight-up creepy, like I am literally romantically in love with food. Whatever makes me laugh at myself, really. Regardless, people are taking notice that this is a daily thing for me. At least once a day somebody, even multiple people that I know, will approach me in person to inquire about the pizza pictures. Mostly their question is, "What the heck, Sarah?". "I just love pizza and I'm super thankful for it," I respond nonchalantly.

People I haven't really spoken to in years have been coming out of the woodwork to ask me what this is all about.

One day when I was having this interaction with an acquaintance of mine it dawned on me--people are just asking about this because I have a "passion for pizza" that exceeds the normal level human beings should have for a food. Most people love pizza, but they just don't talk about it all the time.

Lots of people love Jesus, but they don't talk about that all the time either.

So I found myself challenged by my own thankfulness challenge. What if I posted so passionately about Jesus every single day? Would people notice that, too? I bet they would. When you are loud about the things that change your life, people want to know why... even if it's just pizza.

2. People are attracted to passion.

And it's contagious. I can't tell you how many people have posted on my pictures or said to me in person how hungry I am making them. I'm making myself hungry, too! Since this joke started I have had pizza at least once a week just from the hunger I'm stirring up in myself. A few of my friends have even tweeted or texted me pictures of them and their kids eating a "meal inspired" by my posts.

Others have unfollowed me on social media because of the pizza bombardment.

When you are passionate about something (especially to a fault), people either jump on the wagon or they jump ship. They either get excited about your passion to a point that it becomes theirs or they bail.

I have found this to be true all of my life, especially when I post about the Lord on Facebook. And I do post about Him a lot. When somebody radically changes your life all the time you simply cannot keep quiet about them. This has turned many people away, and that's alright. It has also made people inquire as to why I post so many Bible verses or talk about Jesus so much.

My passion for Jesus, much like my apparent love of pizza, is unfaltering. I'm not sorry about that.

3. What others think about you doesn't matter--what you know is true about you matters.

I am fun-loving and cannot ever remember a day in my life that I haven't laughed. In fact, I live for laughter. If you know me at all you know that one of my favorite things is sharing this joy with others.

Whether or not people get a chuckle out of my pizza posts doesn't matter as much to me as it did when I started this stupid thing. I know for a fact some are thoroughly annoyed by this by now. That's okay too.

It still makes me smile. And I'm gonna keep doing it.

You might think I'm crazy and over-playing this. Those things are both probably true.

But I'm having great fun coming up with these ridiculous captions and finding the most tantalizing pictures I can. Sometimes it's the highlight of my day. Even on a bad day, I'm posting about pizza and for a moment there is joy. On great days it's just icing on the cake.

When I spend time with Jesus it is always the highlight of my day. Even on a bad day, I'm longing to dive in to the word of God and I find joy in His promises. On great days it's just icing on the cake. I will never be sorry for being a joyful, silly, ridiculous child of God, even when others may not understand.

4. Life was not created to be taken too seriously.
If you aren't laughing then you aren't living. Enough said. You do not by any means have to laugh at my posts, but please, for the love of all that is good in the world, laugh at something.
You'll live longer and you'll love better.

5. Your passion becomes your reputation.

I woke up one morning and had a notification that I had been tagged in someone's status on Facebook. I laughed hard when I read that one of my good friends faced a barrage of questions from her kids as to whether or not I had posted about pizza AGAIN that day. I sure had.

This has unpredictably become something that people are EXPECTING of me. I love pizza. I post about it always. It's a joke that makes me laugh more than anything else. But now it's almost as if people are lying in wait to see what I'm going to say about it next. That makes me laugh even harder.

"Oh yeah, Sarah, the girl who obviously loves pizza SO MUCH."
I'm that girl now.
And I do love pizza. Lots. It's yummy.
I have hyperbolized this love to an insane extent.

It has taken less than three weeks for me to become this person built on a cheesy, saucy, doughy reputation. It will be interesting to see what happens when the month is over and the pizza pictures come to an end (only eleven days left, friends).

When this is all said and done I am still going to be posting about the other thing I'm most passionate about--Jesus Christ. Maybe to the extent that people expect it from me. But my one goal has always been to make Him famous and I'm staking my life on the truth I've found in Him.
"Oh yeah, Sarah, the girl who obviously loves Jesus SO MUCH."
That statement is the one that is categorically true about me. 

6. What you talk about most dictates what you really care about most.
People who do not know me at all could look at any of my social media pages for one second and tell you what I care about most. Right now, I'm sure it looks like that's pizza.

What could people infer that you care about most from what you post?
A dislike of your job?
Your kids?
Complaining?
Jesus?

What you put on the internet is permanent. Even when you delete it, records are kept. Screen captures have been taken. I'm sure you have seen many celebrities still get in big trouble for things they have tweeted, facebooked, or instagrammed for only a second and then deleted. But it's too late by then.

I have made a rule for myself about social media. I will never post anything that I might ever regret. I take a tip from Philippians 4:8 on this one: "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things." Post about such things.

I will never ever until the day I die regret posting about my Savior, the things He is teaching me, and the many ways He is changing my life for the better.

So there you have it. Unexpected lessons birthed from utter nonsense. God works everything... EVERYTHING (even stupid pictures of pizza) for His good. You can definitely expect me to post pizza pictures for the remainder of the month, because I'm still smiling about it. I'm still SO THANKFUL for pizza. I just never knew how much this absurd endeavor would affect my views of social media, thankfulness, and passion.

Thanks for hanging in there through the goofiness.

Joy Comes in the Mourning

I remember exactly what she looked like. She was still the same girl I had known, but now she was pale and underweight and her hair was gone. She had a few last strands put up in a ponytail, but by the looks of things those would soon be gone too. She had tubes connected everywhere you can connect them and she was wearing her glasses. She smiled when we walked in and that's what I will always remember most. She was still so beautiful when she smiled.

We brought some fun pajamas and slipper socks so she would be more comfortable in that hospital bed. I remember going around the store picking them out because we had to be sure the jammies opened in the front so the doctors could easily get to all of the tubes on her chest that were hooked up to those loud machines. Small conveniences and comforts in a scary situation.

She went in to see the doctor because of some pain and discomfort she was experiencing and had no idea that she would never be able to leave again. They told her it was leukemia and suddenly everything that I knew to be true and good in the world was turned upside down. She had months left. How could God let something this terrible happen to a thirteen-year-old girl who had done nothing but serve him well and love others?

That day when we as a family went to visit Brittany at the hospital was a totally new experience for me. I had only ever been to hospitals to welcome new babies. They were a joyful place to me. I had never walked into a room so unsure of what to expect but cherishing every second nonetheless. I can't remember everything that we talked about because now this was years and years ago (I was eleven), but I do remember one very important thing--we were laughing. Brittany sat there in her bed and we sat on the floor and in uncomfortable hospital chairs and we laughed. For hours, we laughed.

This young girl with a broken body and a full heart just talked and joked with us all day. It felt like everything was okay again for a moment. All of my sleepless nights crying out to a God I wasn't sure was even listening were lost as I watched her laugh until she cried. I distinctly remember a nurse coming in and asking us to quiet down and then she hung out for a few minutes once she got to know us and saw how much fun we were all having.

We hugged Brittany so tight when we said "see you later" and left in good spirits. I don't remember it as a depressing or sad day whatsoever. I remember laughing until my sides hurt.

Then it happened. At the end of school one day weeks later I got the news that she died.
I dropped to the ground and lost it.
It was sudden and wasn't supposed to happen. She was just getting some routine procedure done and something went terribly wrong and she was gone just like that.
I would never see her again.

The coming weeks were the worst ones my family has ever endured. Brittany was my sister's very best friend and now she was gone. How were we supposed to even begin to pick up these broken pieces? How were we supposed to trust that God was good and that he really did have a plan?

In recent circumstances I have been reminded of Brittany and her very short battle. I have remembered so intensely the pain I felt at the injustice of her death. But I have also remembered that day we laughed together for so long. In a time when all I had been doing was crying, I laughed. Hard. It was so refreshing.

I never expected to learn so much from such a terrible situation:

That it's okay to laugh and find relief in comedy even when things look bleak.

You are allowed to process situations however it is healthiest for you to do so.
You never have to feel guilty or apologize for laughing or crying. Or both.

That people who really are there for you will assist in healing your heartbreak the best that they know how, and they aren't prodding to annoy you--they are prodding because they love you.

Sometimes prayers don't get answered the way that I want them to, but that does not change the fact that God is faithful and good.

Joy does come. Sometimes it isn't in the way we expected or even wanted, but it does come.

Sometimes everything just sucks and you need to laugh until you cry because you just need to experience a new kind of tears.

Laughter might not technically heal physical wounds, but it still heals and is never to be stifled. I am who I am because I laugh with those who need to have their hearts healed, even if sometimes that's just me.

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

Psalm 30:5