All That Breathes

I decided to write this list because I'm a senior now, and as a freshman in college I wish someone would have told me this. 1. Don't spend too much time or energy on dressing up for you classes. It's ok to look nice and get all dolled up. But sometimes it's more ok to focus on your grades and on sleep than on your appearance. Besides, your Father in heaven thinks you are stunning, and really, after you hear that from the creator of the universe, what else matters? 2. Leggings are not pants. If I can read what's printed on your underwear we have a problem. Just wear something that covers your butt. Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, just put on some pants! 3. Call your parents. No, I'm serious. At least once a week call them. Maybe even surprise them one weekend with a visit. College is new and exciting for you, but they miss you. Especially your mom, so call them. Even if it's just to say hi and remind her of that silly inside joke y...

Today when I woke up, I set out for the day with an "I'm gonna get it done" attitude. Well, today has gone completely wrong. What's the problem? What's the problem? The problem is that I tried to get my work release form so I can finally work, and they don't take copies of documents so I can't work until after Friday when I can go get a new ss card. I need to work. I need money. My dorm is empty, it has water and granola bars in it. I start to panic, get frustrated, take a deep breath. This is ok, I can deal with this. What's the problem? My university email is not working. I need to check it because I got a message from financial aid. I'm panicking again. I need control. I can feel it, I want something to grab onto. It's working, now it's in Spanish. Hay algun problema? My laptop won't connect to the internet. I ruined my nail polish. I popped a string on my ukulele. I spilled coffee on my dress. What's the problem? And then I h...

Somehow, in all of my waiting to thaw, I had forgotten that Jesus is like fire to my ice. That He is my protector. I'm fighting back, because even though this is hard, my God is worth the fight. Even though my stomach is turning a little bit because I have filled it with fajitas and it hasn't been completely full in a while, even though I still have to fight back tears when I look in a mirror, He's worth it. And if He doesn't want me to be defined by Ana or calories, then fine, I'll force food into my mouth bit by bit. I'll gain some extra weight and wonder if anyone can notice that last months jeans are fitting snugger than before. Because I can think I'm ugly every day and night and guess what? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because I am not keeper, God is my creator and He tells me that Godliness is beautiful. I will cling to that with everything I have left in me. The Holy Spirit is beautiful, and He is within me. I have to be beautiful by ...

Everything's changing, but somehow nothing is new. Leaves are falling, seasons are changing, people moving, the branches look bare. My heart feels bare. People are getting married, born, dying, divorced. How was I to ever know that my parents would fall in that last category? That I would become a statistic, that I would now have 2 of everything. 2 birthdays, and 2 Christmases, and 2 houses. and 2 separate families somehow. And a million pieces of my heart, tattered and thrown around, left in different places. If I went around gathering those pieces all together I don't think that I would ever be able to make them fit together just like they were, before I knew brokenness or what "I have to talk to my lawyer about who will pay for your health insurance" meant. Tides roll in and they change direction. My mind tells me not to forget Jesus, that He is always here with me. And all of me longs for His presence. I feel caught in between the riptide, pulled into the undertow...

My darling, my daughter. Do you think that I don't see you? In the back of that cafe, where you said we would have coffee together and chat, but our date slipped your mind. I am there, as I have always been, a loving hand on your shoulder, smiles from strangers, and a good hug on a hard day. That was me. I see you and I know the very crevices and shadows of your heart, of the darkest dustiest hidden parts of you, and I love you anyways. I sent my perfect son to die for you, to redeem you, to give you hope and a reason to live because I couldn't stand the thought of you without me. I see your brokenness, when you look in the mirror and you aren't satisfied with what you see. I painted you that way, molded you exactly so, down to every fingernail and every eyelash. I watch as you splash creams and inks onto your skin, browns and pinks and reds, never satisfied. The way your eyelids fall when you blink, and the way your lips part just right when you smile, the pigment in your ...