The internal struggle occupied all of my thoughts... Disclaimer: I am not a professional therapist or counselor! Additionally, I have no formal education in psychology or theology. The following tips are just taken from my personal experiences, counseling, and research. :) The internal struggle occupied all of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to redirect them. It stole my sleep, then haunted my dreams. It prevented me from focusing on my present work and relationships, because I was so focused on dissecting and fixing the problem within my mind. After several days of agony, I was exhausted and guilt-ridden from my inability to let go, and I knew: something needed to change. Have you ever had a moment like this? When you identify a financial problem, a relational conflict, a sinful habit, an unmet desire, or a confusing circumstance—and you find yourself unable to get a moment of peace away from your thoughts? Unfortunately, I know this tendency well. When I find something imperfect, it’s as if every fiber of my being goes to war to demolish it or to fit it into a perfect and tidy box. This past year, I decided that I don't want to live like this anymore. It's exhausting. Since then, I've started learning that freedom from obsessive thinking is possible! So, I've been working on a list of habits that help me put aside obsessive thinking, in hopes that they can help someone else, too. Freedom from obsessive thinking is possible! 1. Get It Out.When I find myself stuck on my mental hamster wheel, one of my first steps is to get the thoughts out of the confines of my own brain. For me, this often looks like journaling, texting a friend, or talking to my counselor. This step is crucial! I cannot sift through or put to rest whatever my fixation is until I've identified and explained it. I explain what I'm worried about and (if I can articulate this) what about it worries me. Oftentimes, seeing my thoughts on paper and inviting someone else into them clears the fog a bit. It enables me to see the problem more clearly and helps me identify what my next steps should be. 2. Identify the Core Fear.At its root, overthinking is connected to fear. This fear may manifest as different motivations (desire for control, desire for certainty, desire to avoid conflict, desire for perfectionism, or a desire to gain sympathy), but all of these motivations are rooted in fear. If we were not afraid of a certain outcome or reality, we wouldn't fixate on thoughts or circumstances. So, when I find. myself spinning about what I will do after I graduate or how a friend perceived something I said, my first step is to identify the core fear beneath that worry. I would like to add here that there is no shame in identifying fear. I've often heard my Christian friends say things like "I can't believe that I'm still anxious about this! I should just trust God!" It's absolutely true that we should trust God, but I'd raise the point that it's hard to trust Him with our deepest fears if we haven't identified them yet ourselves. More on this in my next strategy! 3. Commit to Trusting God At the root of persistent fear is a lack of trust in God. I use the phrase "persistent fear" because I don't believe that all fear stems from doubt. For example, fear is commonly defined as a response to real or perceived threat. In circumstances where there is a real threat, fear can be a helpful indicator that we are not in a safe or healthy situation and it graciously warns us that action must be taken. In such cases, clearly fear is not rooted in a lack of trust. Also, I think it's normal to feel some nerves about a new interview or to want a first date to go well! Fear doesn't always mean that we don't trust God. However, persistent fears go beyond helpful warnings to action! Instead, they lead to our detriment, and may cause migraines, decision-paralysis, codependency, insomnia, addiction, overthinking, and a myriad of other harmful effects. So, what do we do once we've identified our persistent fears? How do we escape them? Well, Isaiah 26:3 promises that we will have peace when our minds are steadfast. In other words, those who train their minds to fixate on God instead of on their problems will experience peace of mind. This is a trustworthy saying that we can carry with us, but it's crucial that we remember that this promise implicates some intentionality on our part. The decision to trust God, while powerful, is as simple as that; it is a Holy Spirit empowered decision. Not a feeling. Not a thought pattern. Not even a natural instinct, although it can be. It's a decision to trust God with our fears, and one that we will likely have to make more than once! 4. Redirect: Part OneI know what you (might) be thinking: the "decision to trust God with our fears" sounds super abstract and unhelpful. That's valid. Practically, I think the decision to trust God involves the decision to redirect our thoughts. For me, this looks like identifying my persistent fear and redirecting my thoughts towards the truth that counters and exposes it. If the fear underlying my overthinking is a fear of abandonment, I start telling myself the truth that I am trusting: God will never leave me. If the persistent fear says that I cannot withstand discomfort, I remind myself that while I will experience trouble, Jesus fights for me and is enough for me. If the core fear says that I can't be good enough, I declare that my sufficiency is in Christ. Oftentimes, the decision to trust God doesn't immediately permeate our thoughts and feelings. Therefore, we have to dig our heels in and start doing the work. This redirection is a key aspect of the Bible's command to renew our mind. It is active, intentional, and effective. 5. Redirect: Part TwoRedirecting our thoughts towards truth is crucial! However, sometimes I find myself worrying even after I've done this. When this happens, there are a few other practical steps that I've found helpful! One of the best strategies I've found to counter overthinking is exercise. Exercising is known to reduce stress and boosts your endorphins--neurochemicals which when released, help us focus, reduce our brain's perception of pain, and just overall improve our mood! I love to go on walks around my neighborhood, dance to some of my favorite music, or do a quick workout video! This always helps me to feel refreshed and focused, albeit sometimes a little sore. Another strategy that I've found helpful is the practice of mindfulness. Mindfulness is the ability to be aware of our bodies and focused on our present, physical surroundings. I found out about mindfulness and meditation through my favorite podcast: the Pause. In this podcast, hosts Lindsay and Marri read and discuss Bible passages and end each session with discussion questions and a mindfulness practice. Whenever I feel my thoughts start to overtake me, I practice mindfulness by going over the five senses: what am I seeing? What am I hearing? What am I smelling? What am I touching? What am I tasting? Doing so reminds me to focus on the present moment, rather than all the imagined realities within my head. A third way that I redirect my thoughts is through scheduling a later time to reflect. This is especially helpful when my overthinking interrupts my routine or comes when I'm not my best (a.k.a when I'm too tired or emotional to handle problem-solving!). When this happens, I set a specific time where I will sit down and address the problem, and I set a specific way that I will do so. For me, this looks like going on a walk after class, or calling my sister tomorrow after I've gotten a good night's rest. This practice is also beneficial because it helps us practice mental discipline and train our brains to focus! 6. EvaluateIf I have done all the above and find that I'm still overthinking, I evaluate my current routine. On top of evaluating my exercise and mindfulness, these are some of the questions that I ask myself:
My mom likes to refer to this practice as "checking your dials". She says that we each have different dials for rest, work, self-care, family, faith, etc. When we feel anxious or "off", she says it's probably because one of dials needs to be turned! Obsessive thinking is a huge challenge for me, and one that I face most days. Thankfully, these strategies (getting my thoughts out of my head, identifying core fears, committing to trusting God, redirecting my mind and body, and checking my dials) have lessened the anxiety that drove my obsessive thoughts. Practicing these on a consistent basis help me maintain a healthy mind, and I believe that they can for you, too! I hope this post has started to encourage you that there is freedom from obsessive thinking. Whenever you find yourself stuck again, try some of these strategies! I hope they help you as they have helped me. :) "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." -Romans 15:13
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Lament. If you were to ask me to define the word, I'd tell you that it is the most powerful form of worship that there is. It is full acknowledgement of pain. It is a willingness to be undoubtedly wrecked. It does not laugh the pain away. It does not take the edge off with a drink. It does not truck on as if nothing is wrong. Instead, it takes one step in front of the other, down, down, down, and welcomes desolation to sit down for a long chat. In December of 2019, I asked the Lord to give me a word for the upcoming year. He responded with "endurance" and I groaned, because I knew what that meant. At least, I thought I did--but nothing could have prepared me for what came next. I think it's safe to say that 2020 brought many of us to our knees. Together, in America, we experienced political upheaval, the exposure of racial injustice, and the ravages of a sweeping pandemic. All three of these had (and continue to have) deadly effects. Simultaneously, my family endured the horrific near-death accident of my grandfather and the exhaustion of his subsequent care. This occurred as my mother adjusted to a new marriage and my sister and I welcomed my step-father into the family. To say as much as possible without exposing our privacy, during this time, my loved ones and myself also experienced heavy relational turmoil, mental health struggles, difficult decisions, and other major unforeseen transitions. Last April until November marked some of the toughest months which I have ever had to endure. Over and over, I opened my front door to find a handwritten, signed, and sealed invitation to lament. Soon enough, I found myself utterly imbued in its throes. As I meditated on lament, I was brought to Romans 8. The biblically-literate Christian champions this chapter for its conclusion of victory and God's good providence, but only recently did I realize how much the passage talks about death. Within its 39 verses, Romans 8 alludes to death or decay upwards of 10 times. Among other things, it discusses bodies that are subject to death, the need to put to death our bad habits, the death of Christ, the decay of all creation, and an encounter with deadly persecution. Though the church often forgoes discussion on this side of Romans 8, the chapter clearly contains an undercurrent of death. Not only this, but it is contextualized by Romans 7: a gut-wrenching lament of struggle and defeat. Almost every genuine Christian I know groans in solidarity when this passage is brought up. If we are honest, we are not strangers to such defeat. But I wonder: have we become strangers to lament? Are we afraid of such a transaction, with the price of our pain so costly that we're unwilling to believe that any measure of hope could offset it? Do we think that rejoicing precludes mourning? Maybe we fear what lurks at the ends of ourselves. In any case, we often stay away from the long, dark hallway behind the door of lament, because we fear a dead end. We are afraid that hopelessness cannot give way to hope, that defeat is the true end instead of victory, and that not every death can be resurrected. We have focused on the victory of Romans 8 and neglected its lament of death. We are wrong to do so. We have a clear model towards resurrection, and it involves first a panicked Friday night and an empty, desolate Saturday morning. Someone once told me that the earthly existence is the only time in which mankind can worship God through pain. That realization has somehow made it easier for me to do so. We must engage with lament. It is a powerful form of worship, not only because it is raw and costly, but because it is temporary. We have a limited window of time in which we can choose to embrace it. If you're interested in hearing more about lament, click here to hear my spoken word poem: What Do You Do? As I said, my word for 2020 was "endurance". With each new wave that hit me, while I lamented, I returned to my designated theme verses: Hebrews 10:36-37. They read as following: "You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what He has promised. For in just a little while, he who is coming will come and will not delay."
I found encouragement in these verses, because they injected purpose into my suffering. They reminded me that God would use my lament and its causes to strengthen me. They reminded me that my tears were teaching me to wait on Him and that I would one day reap the endurance that I so painstakingly sowed. I held onto that. As I persevered, I learned the truth. In the wasteland of my lament, my prayers were digging a well for my tears to fill. I would not always stay by this well, but others would go behind me, and find rest there amidst their own desert seasons. In the midst of my struggle, my emotions were bricks, laying down a road to bring myself and others to Him. Lament was not just another unfortunate phase that I had to endure. Instead, it was part of a much more beautiful picture, drawing others in pastels and bright colors, and bringing us all closer to the One who never left us, and the One who is coming again. Much love, x Savannah I feel powerless. I see not only my world, but the worlds of so many around me, falling apart. I don’t share this to ask for pity or as a cry for help. I am incredibly thankful that I have an amazing support system and I am safe and well. Instead, I want to share some thoughts for those who also feel powerless. I see families who have lost a loved one. I see people close to death. I see families torn apart with inner turmoil and drastic health issues. I see people living with job loss and fear of losing their homes. I see depression and mental illness and severe loss of identity. I see rampant disunity and pain. I know well the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. I am not a stranger to praying for the tunnel to end so I can finally reach the light. When I end up in such a place, I must remember the gospel. Life-saving power to resurrect the most permanent end. A completely dependent man, wandering with a purpose, saving the oppressed and marginalized, brutalized by those who should have been His family. He willingly died for His persecutors and blessed them on the way out. He went through death and came out the other side. He did not use His power to conquer or lord over people. Instead, He used it to serve, to die, and to live, so that regardless of anyone’s previous belief system, political opinions, dislike of established religion and Christianity, anger towards God, non-traditional views, criminal record, or apathy and hesitation to believe: the lost could be found. The helpless could be helped, the hopeless could have hope, and the orphaned could have a safe and loving home. Most days, I take time out of my day to sit quietly with Jesus, read His Word, and talk to Him. Today, as I was finishing and getting up to go on with my day, I felt God grab my arm. Not literally of course, but in my head. As I stood, I immediately saw Jesus stop me, look me in the eyes, and say these words: “Remember me.” I sensed Him telling me to remember Him when I see the hopeless and helpless. He was drawn to these people and when I help them, I’m helping Him. He wants me to remember Him when I AM the hopeless and helpless, that He died to meet those needs for me. I must remember Him when I feel stuck and unloved and powerless. There is nothing I can say to save a life. At the end of the day, all I can do is remember Him. All I can do is point to the gospel over and over and over again. It is all I have and it is enough. It is the power to save completely, in every way, without fail. It is bright, shining, complete hope. It is the light IN the tunnel. It is here today. Grab hold of an unwavering, completely accepting, safe, and kind Savior. He is willing and able to save you. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most. God again set a certain day, calling it “Today.” This he did when a long time later he spoke through David, as in the passage already quoted: “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.” Last April, during a particularly challenging time of life, I headed on a plane towards A Place for the Heart in Sophia, North Carolina. About a month before, I learned through Instagram that my favorite Christian collective, the Cageless Birds, would be holding a Young Women’s Retreat on their campus in the woods. I was sold IMMEDIATELY. Though I’d been on many a plane (I sometimes refer to airports as “home”), this was the first time that I would be flying by myself. With a big hug, my mom dropped me off at the airport and wished me well on my journey. After one transfer flight, I would be landing in Raleigh, where I would be picked up and brought to Sophia. There, I would spend the weekend creating, laughing, worshiping, eating, and connecting with 30 other young women. After that, my sister would pick me up and I would spend the next few days with her at her college in the mountains. On the evening of my arrival, before a beautiful home-cooked meal complete with mock tails and sustainably sourced coffee, we were broken up into small groups. I was put in a group with five other girls and two leaders. Now, this next part might sound a little freaky, but it was a beautiful moment. The leaders, Tatiana and Lindsey, told us that they had been praying for us since we signed up for the retreat and had asked the Lord to show them what words He wanted to speak over us individually. As they took turns reading their handwritten notes, I watched as each girl smiled, teared up, or bawled. Sure enough, the Lord spoke specifically. My letter was read second to last. I was expecting a word on healing or guidance, as I was coming to the retreat with an aching heart and a need for answers–specifically on where to attend college the upcoming fall. It was not immediately evident that the letter spoke to either of these areas. Instead, the words were centered around a lyric from a Sam Smith song called “Like I Can.” The lyric read “my road is the heart and the soul of the song.” (I know, God can speak through Sam Smith??? Yup.) In her letter to me, Tatiana wrote how the Lord wished to show me that He was thankful that I had chosen His way. She assured me that His way is open and free, and that I really was making progress towards my destination–even when it didn’t feel like it. But what stuck with me the longest were these words: It is the beautiful everyday process that is teaching you the melody of your true heart song and its harmony with the Father’s. . . it’s the walking side by side, that is the destination. Admittedly, that last phrase was frustrating to hear. In my current situation, I had felt stuck. I wanted healing from emotional hurt. I wanted answers on where to attend college and what to study. I wanted to hurry up and finish my senior year so I could move forward with my life. I didn’t want to hear that God’s purpose was for me to take one slow step after another. My weekend at A Place for the Heart was beautiful. I walked around the lake and gardens and sowed my own leather journal. I ate delicious food and had crazy dance parties. I opened my heart up to new friends and to new hope. The kindness, authenticity, and genuine fun that I experienced will not be forgotten. However, “the walking side by side, that is the destination” is what has stayed with me. I wish I could tell you that I learned to implement that lesson immediately, but that would be a laughable mockery of the truth. I am a destination gal. I like to know what I want so I know how to work towards it. I like knowing what needs to be done and doing it ASAP. I like journeys–but only when I know where I’m going. Unfortunately, I’ve realized that this attitude can’t carry me much further in the Christian life. This past year, there have been lots of moments of panic and tears as I have strived to discover the destinations in my life and struggled to believe that God’s way for me is free. I have made decisions about classes and careers, and then unmade them. I have spent days in curtains-closed dark rooms, crippled with anxious indecision about my future. I have met my match in frustration, when forced to come to grips with the fact that I still struggle with things that I thought I had left behind. In all of this, I desperately grasp for direction and answers. When I cross one hump, instead of being thankful, my instinct is to start freaking out about the next one. And trust me, there is ALWAYS a next one. I find that I keep putting all my stock into getting “there”–the place where I will be more sure, more healed, more content. But in all my life, I have never gotten “there.” When one question is answered, another peeks around the corner. Frustratingly, I am learning that God is more about “here.” He wants us to leave “there” up to Him. There are countless verses that I could cite to prove this point:
I could go on and on. God is clear. He doesn’t want us to waste our entire focus on the destination. He wants to meet us in the journey, because we will always have destinations to worry about. And that kind of life, a worrying, obsessive life, is not what He wants for us. I’m preaching to myself here. I think that refusing to worry is even harder in our current circumstances. We want to know when the world will open back up again after COVID. We want to know what our schools, our work, our churches, our vacation plans, and our lives will look like if things don’t go back to the way they were. We want to know when the protests will stop or when the police officers who have committed crimes will be arrested. For me, I have wanted to know when and how our country will reach a destination of justice and anti-racism. The journey to get to any of these places is hard, it is tiring, it is confusing, and it is scary. But the journey is important. God invites us to join in the process with Him. Because frankly, destinations are important. Not worrying about our future does not discount the importance of what many of us are working towards. For me, it was important to finish senior year and pick a college. It was important to receive healing in my brokenness. It is important that I find and study what I enjoy. It is important that I someday have a career or a family, or whatever might lie between the two. It is important for racial justice to come about. It is not a bad thing to seek a destination. The problem is when the destination becomes all we want. There is a reason why crossing the next hump is never truly satisfying: it is because we were made for more than just the next answer or the next gain. There is one–only one–destination that we can put everything we have towards. And thankfully, if we have trusted in Jesus, this destination is a KNOWN one. Jesus tells us that the Earth is not our permanent home. Instead, we were made for a life that never leaves us feeling empty; a reality without sickness, addiction, pain, and fear. But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body. That is our final destination: becoming like Christ and living in wholeness with Him. It is my prayer that this reality will encourage you to trust the Lord with every destination that is in between. Join me on the journey. Trust the process. Trust Him to complete the work that He has started. Trust that He is good. Trust that if He can carry you home, He can carry you through the journey leading up to it. (I am) confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. With love,
Savannah xoxo On Saturday, I moved out of my home away from home–Gordon College. As I wrapped up the year, I pulled out my journal and started to reflect on the things that I had learned since move-in back in August. I decided that it might be cool to document these lessons. So without further ado, here’s what freshman year taught me. Enjoy!
God gives the BEST gifts. “He who did not spare His own Son, but gave him up for us all–how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?” -Romans 8:32 Before moving to Gordon and starting my freshman journey, many of my friends and family members approached me to ask how they could be praying for me. My answer was always the same: “Just pray that God gives me good friends!” Going into college, I hoped to befriend people my age who were spiritually strong and fun. God came out the gate: by day two, my roommate and I were staying up late together, sharing life stories, and laughing as we made shadow puppets on the ceiling. Mackenzie complements me so well. She gets up early with me to work out, listens to me as I ramble, and sets me straight when I need it. Together, we’ve cultivated a perfect balance of intense study-seshes and dance parties. On top of that, God placed me within a group of friends who quickly became family to me. He carefully crafted them to complement AND challenge me. Within my friend group, I have fellow Linguistics majors, lovers of creativity, and sports-enthusiasts. I have people to pray with, study with, and go on mini-adventures with. I also have friends who encourage me to step out of my comfort zone by asking me to go to improv nights with them or join their dodgeball team. I have friends who take care of me when I’m sick, and trust that I’d do the same for them. I love getting to know new people. Before college, I wasn’t sure if this was true. Socially, I don’t always do well when I’m in large groups, especially with people who I don’t know. I become an observer as I awkwardly test the group out. My normally enthusiastic self is often reduced to a shy smile. While college affirmed my hesitance towards large groups (especially loud ones), it has taught me that I find connecting with new individuals and small groups enjoyable and fulfilling. On the first day, I was put into an Orientation Crew with about eight other freshman. While awkward at first, I found that I willing to step up and initiate conversations with others. Those first few weeks, I approached a lot of people who I didn’t know and asked if I could eat with them, or play whatever game they were playing. Everyone was welcoming, and it was really exciting to hear different peoples’ stories and learn more about their personalities and passions. There's nothing like a really good donut-and Gordon has them. This one speaks for itself. I don't want to study to be a schoolteacher. I entered freshman year with a major in Linguistics, but felt like something was missing. For years, whenever someone would ask me what I wanted to do for work, I would tell them that I wanted to teach English in other countries. Because of this, I often wondered if I should be majoring in Education instead. The thought was especially compelling at a school like Gordon, whose education grads receive ratings at over twice the state average (shameless plug). So, second semester, I decided to take an Intro to Education class. I enjoyed the class. I enjoyed learning about teaching methods and I enjoyed the time I spent in a local third grade classroom. But overall, it didn’t spark me. While I’m still potentially interested in teaching English to speakers of other languages, I know that I don’t want to be a traditional schoolteacher. Instead of switching my major, I decided at the end of the semester to add a major in Christian Ministries with a Global Christianity concentration, as well as a Spanish minor. Personal worship is important, and it shows. I didn’t actually learn this by increasing my personal worship, as one might think. If anything, in the midst of adjusting to a new busy schedule, I made less time for it. However, over the last 5 years of my life, I have spent an extensive amount of time alone with God. I don’t say this to brag. It’s just what happened. My parents divorced when I was 14, and my sister moved to college soon after, leaving me with lots of time to myself. I chose to spend much of it praying, reading my Bible, writing songs and poetry to God, and taking walks in nature with Him. At Gordon, I decided to join God’s Chosen Gospel Choir. It was one of the best decisions I made this last year. The choir met twice a week to sing, pray, and hear from God’s Word. I was blown away the first time we sang in three-part harmony. It felt like I was surrounded by angels. A few weeks in, after an on-stage sound check, the director of the choir approached me. One of the seniors was directing us that day, and he had told us that he wouldn’t be coming. But he surprised us and snuck in the back halfway through. “I just want you to know, that when I walked in the door, my eyes were immediately drawn to you. I can tell that you are worshipping for an audience of One. When I saw you up there proclaiming, I could tell that you know–God has done some big things for you, and you know it.” At this point in the conversation, I started to tear up. “Your worship is a witness,” he continued. “Don’t change, because one person on fire can set everyone on fire and that is what a worship leader is. Not someone who hypes people up, but an example for them to follow.” 2 Corinthians 2:15 says that believers in Christ are like a “sweet aroma”. I’d never quite known what this meant, but I think that in this instance, someone smelt my sweet aroma (that’s a little gross, but you know what I mean). I wasn’t dancing around on stage (well, maybe I was a little bit). But the point is, I wasn’t intentionally drawing attention to myself. But I have spent years proclaiming the goodness of God to myself. He has been faithful to me, and though I have strayed away from Him, I have always come back. And on that night, apparently it showed. My identity isn’t in the hustle. In high school, I did everything. I was a captain on the basketball team. I played soccer, baseball, and volleyball (I wasn’t very good at any of these). I took piano lessons. I was the yearbook editor. I led the worship band for our weekly chapel services for 3 years. I occasionally spoke in those chapel services. I taught 2nd grade Math and Elementary Spanish during my study halls. I led Bible studies and tours for new students. I succeeded academically and socially. The only thing I didn’t do, surprisingly, was get a job. Whoops. Once I got to college, I wondered if I should be stepping into leadership roles. It was what I was used to, so it was uncomfortable to be taking a backseat. Should I be joining lots of clubs? Should I apply to be an RA? Should I get a job, or two? Should I be reaching out to meet more people? I ended up doing none of these. I tried, but it just didn’t feel right. So, I decided to slow down and I learned my next point. The hustle is not as important as spiritual, emotional, physical, and relational health. Instead of investing in leadership roles, I invested in my close friends. Instead of taking time to go to all the campus events, I took time to do my work well. I exercised regularly. I napped a lot. When I needed to stop and journal or do something creative, I did it. I set time aside to write a personal mission statement and daily declarations for myself. I did all this because God created us to do purposeful and fulfilling work, but not at the expense of our health. Lastly, I learned that the journey is the destination, and God walks with me the whole way. I’m going to write another post about this later, so I won’t expound upon it too much. But the gist of the matter is that God has been slowly chipping away at my need for control. I like to have answers. I like to make plans. I like knowing where I’m headed so I can prepare myself. God likes to invite me to trust Him instead. He likes to walk with me, and turn my gaze away from “there” and towards “right now.” Freshman year has been a journey. There have been new friends, new classes, new places. There have been late nights of laughter, and some of tears. There have been assignments that led me to despair. There have been wonderful gifts and surprise birthday parties and trips to coffeeshops. There have been no all-nighters, thank God–at least for me. I’m thankful for it all, and looking back on it, I can smile in the knowledge that the journey was one big gift from my God. I think He smiled when He picked it out for me. And now, He and I can wrap it up together. With love, Savannah xoxo Tears are rain- Sometimes they follow cumulonimbus clouds of grief, Other times they fall from an empty sky, Some even shine through the warmth of the sun; But one thing I know: Tears let the flowers grow. I know the heavens cracked open and the floodwaters came- They ravaged your spaces of security, They took your homes away; They left behind an empty space. But they also left room for something new. Somewhere there is a seed. Somewhere along the line, it was planted within you. Do not stifle its growth by calming the storm. If the forecast demands rain, Let it come. And then let it pass. (because it will) (I promise) The ground was tilled around you. The seed was planted within you. And your tears are necessary for the process. Don’t let the pain drown you. Instead- Breathe. Have faith. And know: There is healing in the waiting. The LORD is near to those who are discouraged; he saves those who have lost all hope…I prayed to the Lord and he answered me; he freed me from all my fears. The oppressed look to him and are glad; they will never be disappointed. The helpless call to him, and he answers; he saves them from all their troubles. Friend, it’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel this way right now, but you will get through this situation. You will make it out alive and see the other side. But you cannot do it on your own. I can't do it on my own. I can’t fix it, I can’t heal me or you. But I know the One who can, and He’d love to know you too. Turn to God. He is near and He is in the business of healing. Find out for yourself how good the LORD is. Happy are those who find safety with him. Honor the LORD, all his people; those who obey him have all they need. Even lions go hungry for food, but those who obey the LORD lack nothing good. |
AuthenticityI want to wipe the smudges off the picture of what Christian living is really like. I’m from Massachusetts: land of the candid, home of the outspoken, so I’ll try to tell life as it is. My aim is to share my stories and personal observations of God with honesty and clarity, and to do so in ways that leads you to see the truth: your heart is not alone. ArchivesCategories |