Tsunami of Awesome.

(This post was actually written September 14, 2014)

As it seems, I have often used the word "journey" to describe the last year and a half (or perhaps back even further). Almost like the way we used "intentional" during our Biola days. I cringe in fear that it may seem trite or cliche, which is not my goal. I tell you that I am not the same person that started this journey so many months ago. Perhaps it defeats the purpose if I have to say that, but I think that I am in awe that often I don't always recognize myself. I have gotten to a place where I an appreciate the smallest of things. I can truly celebrate in the joy of others. And I grieve with those that are hurting. Life is no longer about things. Money. Or power. It is about the way we can say "yes" to each day. I am guilty for getting caught up in routines and the stagnant. I can't even see how that is possible anymore. I have not had two of the same days in months. And though I was worried about what this new chapter would look like, I am thriving. I had my mini pity party when my teacher friends all started school, but I had to shake it off. My teaching career is a chapter of my past life. I lived that chapter. It was a good one. And also one of the hardest. The people still matter, but the career is no longer my calling.

With that being said, in the last week, I have seen the clouds pass and the fog lift. Is it clarity of thought from the REAL food I had been eating from Whole30? Is it the fact that I am getting the door beaten down by opportunity? Is it the Step Study I have finished after 8 long months? Or is it the messages I have been hearing preached in church? I am sure the culmination can all attribute to the tsunami of awesome, but really, and I mean reeeeaaaallly like real talk, it is that the pieces of the past (and the future) are finally making sense.

The journey has been one I compare to a roller coaster, and in the last year or so, I have been climbing, anticipating the gut wrenching drop. My stomach has done the flips. I have screamed (on more than one occasion). Clenched my fists, holding on for dear life. And now, I get to feel the wind in my hair. The laughter in the thrills of this part. I do long to share in this journey with people that are no longer on the ride, but I can't blame them for getting off the ride. It is not for the faint of heart. They have their own trail to blaze for now. And at times, it could've been best described more as a crazy train. Perhaps someday our paths will cross again.

For now, I am in awe of not only the provision in my life, but of incredible faithfulness. It is not good enough that I was allowed one blessing, but a multitude. That, my friends, is the definition of grace. I am now challenged to give that grace to others as it is abundant.

I look forward to sharing the specific details of this journey. I can tell you that I have had a sip of the entrepreneurial Kool-Aid and it is delicious. This life I get to live is shaping up to be better than I could ever hope or imagine. If you can stomach the inconsistencies it may bring, you can also relish in the thrills that come too. I now get to be incredibly creative. I am meeting amazing people. Having once in a lifetime experiences. I get to enjoy my days. I enjoy drinking my wine and I still have a few bad habits, but I am no longer stuck in a gear of neutral. I can confidently hold to the promises of this life. Hope. Love. Forgiveness. Healing. And an amazing future. This chapter is truly called my "Tsunami of Awesome."

I am the Moon.

Dear Friends,

After some recent thought and conversation with someone I shared much of my life, I have been wrestling over the privacy/publicity of my blog. With that being said, I would like to get a few things on the record. This is not a huge forum in which I choose to share. I made that clear from the first post.

They see me rollin'.

First, I am not a victim. In fact, as I read my blog, I can see that I am stronger than I have been in years. Broken, but strong. And the things that have been taking place in my own life are not perpetuating any sort of victim-hood identity. Quite the contrary. Rather, I want the message that comes across is one of strength, bravery, difficulty, and truth. I am totally blessed. BUT I AM STILL FLAWED. Imperfect. Broken. A beautiful disaster, if you will. Faithfulness is evident in every aspect of this life. Even in the difficult parts. And in recent moves and changes, it is not intended as a cry for help or sympathy. I strive instead to set that record straight here and now. To show others with my actions, not my words, that I do not need to encourage drama or to create tension. I have painted some situations in the past to play up my past role as a victim. It caused pain to people. I pay the price for that, as do they. I made mistakes. Big ones that caused some of the most important people in my life to suffer. That is my burden to bear. Sadly, that pain still resides in some situations that I wish I could erase. I can't change it, but I can work to build for the future. We are all responsible for our own actions and choices. Now, I am learning to live in love, acceptance, forgiveness, and kindness. What a novel concept. I apologize if anything indicates I need the whole "woe is me" act. I don't. And I am truly sorry to those I have hurt. Truly.

Second, I will not share EVERY detail of my personal life on my blog. Some details are meant to be private. I was pretty up front from the beginning that this blog was intended to serve as a journal of MY journey.  Some details may seem vague, but it is not for others to see it as my lure to hook you in. (I hate that kind of fishing.) Please respect the fact that I am sharing my vulnerabilities. It is not for you to prey upon them. If anyone is reached along the way, then praise. It is not about me, but rather about the grace in my story that may in fact reach another. When navigating through mud, it can be quite comforting to know you are not alone, even when you deliberately choose to sit with the pigs (as I have often done). That the mud will eventually be wiped away. There is no shame in being refined. This is a delicate balance of utilizing any sort of social media. I walk a fine line of being careful not to dance in the land of over-sharing. Things are easily misconstrued or assumed. And we all know what happens when you ASSume...

Third, it is not easy to get help, seek counseling, or reach out. In my recovery, it was only when I hit rock rock bottom (imagine rock bottom, then add another 10 layers and 10 years--that is rock rock bottom), that I actually realized I didn't have to live at the bottom any longer. Getting help was one of the bravest (and most difficult) things I have ever done. And truly, I struggle through those brave moments. Even a year into it. I often lean heavily on an amazing support group. I would start the last decade over again in a heartbeat and apply all of the things I have learned today. Gladly, I would make healthier decisions and engage in all things positive. The patterns of my past were clearly NOT working so I am choosing to embark on this adventure of learning to live in light. To get out of the darkness and to heal the wounds. The process hurts. And sharing parts of this are painful, yet therapeutic. If you are feeling that getting counseling or going to therapy is weak, let me tell you friend, this process is not for the faint of heart. You are brave. Be brave because you are HIS.

This last week, there were words spoken by a wise gentleman at CR that completely defined my own state of mind from the years past providing quite the revelation for me... I stuff my feelings. After stuffing those feelings, I carry them. And as the bag of feelings gets full, I carry more and then stuff some more. Eventually, the bag overflows and I reach the point of breaking. Not usually a moment of rage, but more of a breaking point. And then I feel guilty for having those feelings. So after unloading in a meltdown, I gather up the broken pieces and put them back in the bag. I am now learning to work THROUGH the feelings and to communicate before it gets to this point. To unpack the bag and leave it at the cross. I am working through the mistakes and the hardships, especially the negative patterns of the past. I pray through them. I know that it is NEVER too late to change. And that it is ok to have hope that the journey will lead to transforming thoughts and choices. HOLD ON TO THAT HOPE.

I am currently working through making amends. Sadly, I am not sure that every situation will lead to peace (or bubblegum and soda pop), but at least I can take ownership for the hurt or pain I have caused. I pray that forgiveness takes place and that there is a hope for the future. I am not perfect. I have caused great hurt. What's worse is that I have hurt those I love most. I have not always been fair. I have a stubborn streak that is being tamed. I did not and do not always communicate well, but I sure as heck am trying. I have made mistakes and choices that greatly impacted my future and the future of others. That is where I am learning to forgive myself and to understand the work in it because the guilt and regrets of that are incredibly heavy. And last time I checked, the "rewind time machine" I so wanted from that episode of the Jetson's has still not been invented. Because trust me, I would cherish the moments I had. I would treasure the memories and moments with those that are no longer with me. I would do things differently. I would laugh more. I would be proud. I would encourage and not enable. And I would not have lost my voice to the point where I am now-- looking to find it again.

I have decided to keep the blog public. But please understand that this is MY journey. My story. Feel free to continue reading. And if you don't like it, stop reading. I am not here to force feed you.

I am a work in progress. This is a messy process. This journey is genuine. I am not molding for others. The mask is off. I am working to better myself and to build (and hopefully, rebuild) healthy relationships. I will not give up on those I love. I am not a quitter. And I didn't come this far to walk away.

Grace, peace, and love.
.ellen.

"Are you the sun? The center of the universe? Because you act like the sun. And you think that I am just a hunk of rock. The moon. Well, at least people can walk on the moon."

Home.

Often in the last year or two, I've been struck with the sleepless nights. Anxiety and worry fill my every thought rather than dreams of puppies and unicorns. Recent nights are no different. Perhaps now, the nights feel worse, even with my toolbox of self help skills, a great support group, and CR. I spend the wee hours of the night awake. In the sleepless nights, I scroll through countless Pinterest images, play my Simpsons game on my iPhone to exhaustion, then after I've stalked the Facebook and Instagram posts of the day, I'm left stirring.

These days my thoughts wander to a feeling of home. I left my childhood home at age 18 (and it was sold in the last few years after the divorce of my parents). Since then I've had 13 roommates and 10 addresses in the last 17 years. And to date, in a sense, I feel homeless. My life is in boxes and a 130 square foot storage unit. I no longer have a DVR filled with my trashy TV to watch, or a fridge filled with my own expired leftovers and jars of who knows what. I don't have family photos hanging on the walls or my piles of nonsense to sort. Most of my furniture has been sold off. And I sleep on air mattresses and couches. Sure, much of this could be filed under first world problems, but ultimately there is a deeply rooted longing for "home." The plans I had were quickly stripped and rerouted. 

In reality, I could take this in a spiritual direction as we all should long for our eternal home. But I'm on earth. And Lord willing, I've got some good years left on this planet. So until I'm at those pearly gates, I long to walk in the door of my own place and collapse. I would like to cook a good meal. I'd like to be surrounded by faces of those I love. I want Stella to feel settled. I'd like to kick my feet up on the couch and talk endlessly to a friend with a glass of wine. And though I want these things, I can see that these last few years (as the wheels fell off so to speak), I've slowly been stripped of my every comfort and identity. I no longer have a job. I am not identified by a relationship of years. My address is TBD. No wonder I stay awake wondering what to do. Where do I matter. Who needs me. Am I even needed. What is my worth. Am I making the right decisions. Do I apply for this job or that. Will this feel normal. How do I move on.

My sister said it well in that this is my chance to be creative. To discover more of me. That I'm not identified by the place I work. The career I had. Or the people I dated. Easier said than done, but the seed has been planted. 

I wish I could say that I was totally satisfied. That all of this is one great big happy adventure. Instead, I question God. I yell at Him wondering when enough is enough. And just when I think I've cried every possible tear and I'm left feeling so empty and defeated, I get a Facebook post of encouragement from an old friend speaking to me of God's grace and favor. And then I get a card in the mail of bunnies and rainbows. Not that it fixed every problem, but it did remind me that at the end of my rope, I find the faithful friends that will pull a hamstring trying to do the splits in the air for my support. I don't have to live at the end.

This plan isn't my own. And though pieces of it are far better than I can imagine, there is a sadness wishing for what was. And my nagging and longing for the sense of home. 

Celebrate.

Nine months ago, I started a journey at the very bottom. The rock bottom. In the pit of my lowest despair. I was sitting in my pastor's office. I had tears flowing down my face and I think I used just about every kleenex in the box that day. In the midst of our conversation, he said that I would look back on that day and see that it was the start to a new life and that I would actually be thankful for it. Through my tear stained face and hurting head, I thought he had to be crazy. Why would I be thankful for a day that was my most difficult yet? (I even think it was more difficult than my cancer diagnosis day.) How would it be possible that life could really change that much?! Though now, a long term relationship had been put to death (and not only did I NOT want it to die, but I fight, even now to keep it alive). I was struggling through loss. Trying to figure out how or where I fit in. And I couldn't get through an hour without tears. This had become my life for so many years. The mundane was the norm. Trying to fix everyone and everything was my gig. I hadn't even thought of fixing myself. I was left feeling vulnerably raw.

Needless to say, I am now 9 months in. I have the chip to prove it. One of the tasks I had been given by PK was to attend a group called Celebrate Recovery. It is an amazing group of fellowship for those with hurts, habits, and hang-ups. There are people from all walks of life that attend CR. Celebrate Recovery is a group for those with any sort of issue ranging from adult children of family dysfunction, alcoholics, divorce, drug addicts, to anxiety, depression, addiction, etc. Truly, it is a group for humans. There is no shame in admitting struggle, hurts, or weakness. Every human being can benefit from such an incredible program. We all have baggage we deal with and carry, when in all reality, we should leave it at the cross. The price has been paid.  But I know, it is not easy. There are days I still walk back to the cross and try and pick up the baggage again like it is a lost appendage I just can't live without. You get used to carrying around the extra weight (and boy, I had been quite accustomed to carrying around a few extra hundred pounds). This is the beauty, however of CR (as well as church, great relationships, Christian fellowship, etc.). I need the constant reminder that I don't live in my past. The hurts are finished. The hang-ups are just that. Hung up. And my habits of old are replaced with good ones. I don't need to be anxious any longer. I don't have to live in the pits of despair.

I can't lie. This journey has been difficult. There are still down in the dump days. Insecurity still surfaces every now and then. Sorting through the past will be and has been painful at times, but it is also quite freeing. I have seen the patterns of chaos transform into healthier habits. It is incredible that God never wastes a hurt. Going through an intensive Step Study each week has revealed some ugly beasts that I am continuing to slay. Being in CR each week, I can see that God has redeemed the lives of so many, including my own. There is hope. I still walk in this journey with days of doubt. I still wonder why God is doing some of the things that He is within my heart and life. I still dabble in despair. The details of my future are often still unknown. I have moments when I mourn the death of certain relationships. It is normal (even though they were unhealthy, they still hurt). Those things were a huge part of me for so long. But this is my freedom walk. I am no longer bound by the chains that once kept me from pursuing dreams. I am no longer listening to the voices that say I am not good enough. I have ignored the "And if I just looked like this...Or if only I could be more like..." I am no longer helplessly chasing around believing in empty fairy tales, a false sense of reality and half-hearted promises that kept me hanging on for years. Instead, I can proudly say that Pastor Kurt was right. That hopeless day in July has turned out to be the best day of my life. It has allowed me to see that when I was finally ready to accept the change, that change truly has taken place. People see it in me. I see it in myself. I truly feel joy beyond all imagination. Life is full of hope and opportunity. I have formed lifelong friendships with my CR family. What a gift, a blessing I never imagined. They are people I get to lean on, learn from, and share with along the way. I have a new start and a fresh perspective. I've started creating again. Dreaming. Hoping. Living. Laughing. Enjoying. I am embarking on the best parts of the journey and starting to honestly reap the benefits of God's plan for me which has been far better than anything I could have imagined, hoped or dreamed. As cheesy as it may sound, I can see that His desires for me are so much more than what I could've planned for myself.

Though I struggle with anxiety, co-dependence, and other hang-ups, I am on the road to healthier habits. Nine months in and still going strong...