As of Lately // May Chaos Life Update.

Things have been insane these past few weeks! Since my last update I have: 

1. Attended my college's Education Commissioning Service, and I was ceremoniously commissioned or "pinned" as a teacher. 

I couldn't have done it without these two pillars of support. 

You know, it's strange to work for something for four whole terribly difficult years (academically) and then not instantly be given it. It's like I feel like I'm supposed to now have this ideal job or classroom or position and just...that's not where my life is right now. It's a weird form of disequilibrium between having worked so hard these past four years, seeing that that's what others around me are doing, while at the same time not really being in that stage right now. I know my time will come. I know that teaching and working with kids is what I'm passionate about and worked so hard for. But I have so many other exciting things on my plate, that's going to have to go in a different order. And I can't feel guilty about that. I shouldn't. I won't.

 2. I soaked in all the last "college experiences."

So many people came at me with all the cliche advice within the last few weeks. "Don't forget this." "You're going to wish this didn't go by do fast, you weren't so impatient, you appreciated things more." And while that's all well and good and I'm sure some or most of it is true...this is where I'm at. This is what I'm experiencing. And while I know I have to be conscious about my experiences (daily, not just at the end of college). I am trying to enjoy it all the best I can with the amount of emotions I can use to process it all happening practically at one time. I promise. I know there is so much to enjoy!

My roommates and I spent our last full free day in Baltimore Inner Harbor last week. We walked around, had lunch, took in the sights that most of us hadn't seen before. It's funny that we've gone to school so close to there for four years and hadn't ever seen that pretty place! 

3. I was finally faced with that goodbye. 

The first goodbye of many, but by far one of the most emotional and trying. Over the past months, things have been rough with finding a home for this guy and I was really started to feel defeated thinking that I would fail as a Mama and not come through with a loving home for him. When I knew I couldn't keep him any longer with graduation, getting married and moving across the country, it took a while to face the facts that I had to find someone else to love on him. I ignored this fact for a while and was faced as the time ticked on with the fact that I could really no longer ignore it. Leading up to last week, we had a few options for him but all of them seemed to fall through over and over again. I would be a mess all over again after each time we found it not to work out for some reason or another. Eventually, we (thought) we found a permanent home for him. But because of circumstance, hesitation and true God-timing, that fell through too. 

I was a total mess.  

Then, as He always does, God showed up.  

A family came through from a friend of a friend of a friend situation. Within twelve hours it was decided and his goodbye date was set up. I am so happy with how things have worked out, the iea of a relationship with these people, their love already showing towards Cide, and the way only God can bring peace to such a terribly sad situation.  

4. I did that graduating college thing. 

I'm not 100% sure that if you asked me freshman year, four years ago, if I could or would actually make it to this moment. I don't know that I would confidently say yes. I don't know if I could tell you about the time that I completed my degree with any sort of honors, walked across that stage, received Dean's List Honors for the last two years. I don't know that I could tell you about my confidence, my academic achievement or knowing my own strength on the darkest of nights. 

I can, however, confidently say now that the amount that I was stretched, torn, and grown throughout these four years, I should be proud of myself. I am.

My greatest enemy has always been myself; my ability to shut myself out, tear myself down, and feel so incredibly defeated by my own thoughts and feelings.

And knowing that I completed this, these four years, with excellence and growth and courage and confidence? Whoa. I hope I can give myself enough time and emotion to soak that in. 

Because I did it. 

I did this.

5. I have and am currently packing up pretty much my life. 

This emotional processing has finally taken form in the physical embodiedment of sorting and placing into piles and boxes; 

what to keep, 

what to throw away, 

what I don't need or use anymore, 

things I want to take with me into my new life and home.

It's a strange feeling, knowing how much I'll be leaving behind. Physically and emotionally. But equally, knowing how much I will take with me from here, the people in my past into my future. Pieces of that are threaded into me, the person I am now and the new person coming into this new life. 

Cheers to the next and new chapter of living!

A season filled with lasts.

In December while Kevin was in town, we heard a sermon about the quintessential "For Everything There is a Season" message, but with a different twist. Afterwards, we were talking about what season we were in and I distinctly remember his response, "I'm in a season of wait." With us each in different seasons of life and eventually being joined together in a whole new season, I've realized that mine has recently come exactly how I thought it would;

a "time to plant and a time to uproot," 

a "time to weep and a time to laugh."

Looking back now, it's so crazy to see how I was so unaware of all the loaded emotions in December that this season of life would carry with it, yet somehow I pinpointed it exactly.

I feel so incredibly 'uprooted.'
And oh my lanta, I have never 'weeped' so much.

With these realizations I've come to acknowledge that this season is filled with lasts. Last memories, last times, last moments. I'm starting to find myself thinking, "well this will be that last time we..." or "that will be the last time I..."

I don't really know how to feel about that.

last spring on this beautiful campus

last drives through the little center of town to the barn

Farms & Fires.

               

Today I sat outside his field towing his lead and relishing in the now.
I memorized every mark, I took pictures in my head and my heart of that big ‘ole scar on his right hindquarters.
I memorized all those dapple markings on his legs, his “grease marks” on the inside of his belly.

I took deep breaths while he pulled away farther from me stretching to reach the greener grass. I called him over and held his head against my forehead and could no longer hold back the tears. 

I let them come. 

Hesitantly at first. 

Then with ease.

                                              

I closed my eyes memorizing his smell. I kissed his forehead. I played back ten years worth of memories. 

The lessons. 

The words. 

The hours of training and frustrations. 

I remembered all the times his stall was my safe place and grooming him in the aisle of the barn was my escape, my sanctuary away from the dark world of others, even of myself. 

I recalled all the times I laughed and cried and yelled in his presence. Sometimes ashamedly at him. Others because of her disease, their terrible words, his constant leaving.

               

In the same day I sang songs from the radio at the top of my lungs, soaring down the highway with three women I’ve grown so close to accompanying me; the epitome of the college cliche. We exited the highway and veered onto the back road of a little farm town and turned sharply into the gravel driveway. 

               

Rural Pennsylvania Friday night meant the bonfire had already started, but we hadn’t missed much. Three hours later and the worship rolled on. The guitar strummed in the background and the blur of sparks and conversation became a faint hush to my ears. The fire popped and whistled. People I had known for four years and a few I had just met laughed, shared testimonies, stories and joked.

It’s a strange thing, 

this closure phase.

Enjoy it, because it's happening.

I recently came across this phrase and I could not think of a more obvious, simple and straight-forward phrase to define this current season of my life. It's funny, no matter how many breakdowns I have, no matter how much I scream or cry or put off doing things that hurt, worry about the inevitable goodbyes and all the negative, terrifying or sad parts that come with this, I am continuously overwhelmed with all the things to enjoy. And like the seasons change, life is made new and the trees bloom, it's happening. Like a freight train or a steady rhythm, I cannot stop or control it. 

As hard as it is, I am grasping at strands to try to enjoy this phase, to immerse myself in the scary uncertainty and enjoy the process; the processing. While it's a little overwhelming to try to savor it all at once, I close my eyes to take it in, to remember it, to lock it away for another faraway time when I know I'll miss it; this, those, them. 

I went home for the long Easter weekend. That was difficult. I started packing and sorting and placing into piles and getting rid of. That was even more difficult. There is something so emotionally unsettling about seeing your material possessions so scattered around. An accurate representation of the chaos; emotional, mental. Everything else. Such is this phase of my life and such is an accurate representation of my processing; categorizing, giving away, choosing what to save, what to let go of. 

Very strange, indeed.

The thought of having to say goodbye to this, my thirteenth birthday present makes my heart break a little bit. My animals are so important to me, and as odd as it sounds, my emotional stability that I know saying goodbye to them will be just as bad as saying goodbye to the people. Not to say that I will never see either again, but it's of course, just not the same. 

On another note, this guy, and a friend and I were at one of our favorite local coffee shops while I was home. We were sitting outside enjoying the nice weather and the Saturday afternoon when a lady and her son (about seven or eight) approached us. The three of us, being very approachable with a fur-thing, I quickly learnt. She didn't directly approach us at first and was having a harmless spat with her son, openly criticizing her son for this and that. She mentioned "all the money she spends on him" and how he "sucks all the energy out of her" point blank and immediately I bristled at her tone towards him. It wasn't mean, but criticizing and harsh. A tone that as a teacher, I hate hearing parents use directly in front of their children. 

She proceeded to approach us and ask questions about Austin, while her son shoved his face in my dog's face. Again, (and although my dog would never bite and is incredibly friendly) something I cannot stand watching parents allow. She struck up a more-than-polite-stranger talk conversation and quickly noticed the ring on my left hand as I was sitting holding my coffee. She had ventured into "I've been married twice" and "be careful when you have kids someday, you never know what you're going to get,"...way too personal territory and I sat wishing she would just leave already. Her attitude was boisterous and abrupt and amidst the conversation demanded, "how old are you?" I responded that I was twenty-two and I noticed her face twitch. She trudged on with;

"Well, what do you think marriage is?"  

And I quickly recognized where the conversation was going. 

I've heard it before, being engaged for nearly a year and a half now. People, mostly strangers are often surprised at my choices and that I'm "so young." (She was surprised that we've maintained a nearly four and a half year long distance relationship though). So point to me, I quess? Her question came out of nowhere and I was completely taken aback. I must have stared at her, shocked, for about thirty seconds wishing I could crawl under a rock or that she would just go away while she chided, 

"Come on, I want to hear your answer." 

I told her I thought marriage was 'unpredictable.' 

She must have deemed by answer acceptable because she nodded and affirmed it with a, "yes, it's that." 

Her and her son eventually (and thankfully) left, but not before I was able to slip in, (after regaining my composure), 

"We're excited to see where God and life takes us. 

We know it's not going to be perfect." 

Quote from Stephen Chbosky, "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" - (Image source unknown)

Enjoy this season. Whichever one you're in. 

Because it is happening. You are living in it.  

Consistently inconsistent.

The only part of this transitioning period is that it is terribly "consistently inconsistent." I guess what I mean is that, I never realized I could feel this many mixed emotions within seconds of each other. At one point I want to dance around I am so excited for my new life to start, and at the other I am nearly a puddle over how chaotic and terrifying and uncertain it all is.

These days I am clinging with all my might to God's provision and hope. I know that at the end of all of this will be an amazing new beginning. I know that as hard as every single goodbye will be and as difficult as letting go will feel and as much as leaving behind things and people, even animals, I will get to experience new things and new people and new situations. Not to replace the old, but to give a fresh start in a new place. I am excited for that.

From Where I Stand: anxious, overstressed, overtired, but hopeful

“For my God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him. He is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us. Selah.” Psalm 62:5-8

"Humbly let go. Let go of trying to do, let go of trying to control, let go of my own way, let go of my own fears. Let God blow his wind, His trials, oxygen for joy’s fire. Leave the hand open and be. Be at peace. Bend the knee and be small and let God give what God chooses to give because He only gives love an whisper a surprised thanks. This is the fuel for joy’s flame. Fullness of joy is discovered only in the emptying of will. And I can be empty. I can empty because counting His grace has awakened me to how He cherishes me, holds me, passionately values me. I can empty because I am full of His love. I can trust." - Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts.

There is nothing else I can do but know and trust that God will provide in His timing, in His gentle love, amidst these crazy circumstances…I cannot control this phase of my life. As much as I desperately want to, try to, beg to, wish to; I can't. I have to and am forced to do just the opposite. I have to let go. I have to trust. I have to not wish my own way upon circumstances that I don't know about, how they'll end up, what will happen. And I have to be okay with that. I have to let my soul rest in the unknown, in trusting Him.

Even when eating raw cookie dough and having mini breakdowns in the kitchen 

of my apartment late at night, in the darkness feels like a way more tangible option.

Jehovah-jireh, God our Provider.

Transitioning || Continued.

I have cried my way through much of the bumps in this transition. When we thought we would be relocated two months before the wedding to a different state, when we thought moving wouldn’t work out, when we thought Kevin’s job would change drastically and would maybe impact our plans to move, throughout all the times dealing with this guy and what to do, every stupid and insignificant wedding detail that fell apart or feels like everything is going to fall apart that day, processing the new physical distance between family and friends, questioning my future career choice and certification details, whether I would ever become certified as a teacher and my overwhelming defeatist attitude, financial troubles and stress, where to live, every emotional letting-go of my college years and leaving this chapter, saying goodbye to friends and roommates who’ve seen me at my best and worst, when I realized things were at a standstill with this guy I’ve been a mama to for ten years now, when it hurt the worst that night in my car and sobbing turned into one of those episodes I haven’t felt in so, so long.

Every single moment, God has shown up.

Maybe when I haven’t expected Him to, maybe after I’ve expected Him to. Every single tearfest, He’s quietly and patiently guided and guarded my heart to knowing that He’s in control when I feel completely and utterly powerless, exhausted and weak. When I am beaten down over stupid or heavy world problems, I know that He is patient, and oh man, does He provide.

So it is with that thinking and mentality that I cling to the same phrases, knowing that they are true, knowing His never ending promises and history. I cling to that in hopes to believe it again in the midst of things crashing down, yet again. In the middle of fears and doubts, in the middle of losing control and running out of time. In the middle of letting go and trusting. In the midst of unknown futures. I am scared. And that’s okay. Scared that the day will come and I’ll have to say goodbye. Scared of who and if someone will finally take this lug. Scared that time will in fact run out and I’ll feel like an irresponsible failure. 

"For the word of the LORD is right and true; he is faithful in all he does. The LORD loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love.” Psalm 33:4-5

Do I look like a wife?

When The Fiancé and I first got engaged, even before that actually, we agreed on a long engagement. Because of our long distance circumstances; my finishing school, planning a wedding in a different state, the military, being separated so often, we wanted so badly to plan things wisely but also we wanted to use our time wisely. We knew that a long engagement would go by quickly (it has, even if it seems like it's dragging!). We wanted to truly enjoy being engaged and this stage of our relationship and continue to grow separately and independently, as well grow stronger together. We wanted to not spend our entire time we did get the chance to talk planning a wedding and we wanted to leave room for the dreamy part of this stage, while at the same time enjoying each other and planning things as practically as we could. Or as much as we could do with both the distance and the uncertainty of this military life that I am still after-four-years grasping understanding of.

All that to say, and I know we don't need to justify our choices to anyone, 

but I wanted to give you some background, 

because as much as we may complain about it, 

we truly have been given the gift of time. 

To grow and think and imagine and dream.
To plan and prepare and steady ourselves before the whirlwind and second whirlwind and after-shocks...
I've been given time to finish this chapter of college and dwell in it's presence, while simultaneously clinging to the transitional period, awkwardly and as graceful as I can.
But I've also been handed time to develops this little identity crisis.

Sometimes, unfortunately, to overthink it. 

As silly as it sounds, I'm constantly finding myself thinking "would a wife wear/say/do this?" in preparation for my new shoes, my new up-and-coming role I am about to put on.

There's a term in Social Psychology called, "The Spotlight Effect." And I cannot help but to think that I have unfortunately fall victim to its ways. With every new piece of clothing I wear I think, "Does this make me look like a wife? Would a wife wear this?" Which in a sense is okay. I know things will change when I am a Mrs. I know there will be certain society things, certain expectations, certain areas of growth I will gain and learning to be done. I know these things. I recognize and am as ready as I can be for them. But that's not the kind of role I'm talking about. I mean a little bit towards to the side of the "superficial view" unfortunately.

While the Spotlight Effect more or less states, "hey you're acting kind of egocentric," I can't help but think I'm not to the only one to experience this in the Engagement Chapter. Or maybe I've just had that too much time to think thing happening.

Regardless, I am still grasping hold on this role of a "wife" before I become one. I am still trying to juggle what this will be like, how I can improve myself for my husband, for myself and for our relationship in perspective of God's Words and wisdom. I am working on creating my identify as a wife and soon-to-be newlywed. I am still learning how to handle this 'military wife life,' moving across the country, adopting a new sub culture of the US, and how to manage the impressions I'll have in front of all the new people I'll soon meet and become a part of. I am growing as an individual but also and already (hopefully) in my upcoming role as a  w i f e. 

And most importantly, I am recognizing that I have the room to grow. That I will continue to grow and despite whether I think people's eyes are all on me, or just mine are, or just my husbands;

I want my growing to be beneficial. I want my growing to be done in grace and acceptance; from myself and towards my new skin and identify. I want my growth to be in the direction of becoming a Godly and supportive wife, a loving and compassionate new friend and a strong and confident individual.

But most importantly with these new roles, 

"I will hold myself to a standard of grace."

I will recognize and know that I am working to improve myself ultimately for God, for my husband, and for myself. That I am a work in progress. I am not done yet. I will shatter the "Spotlight Effect," knowing it is a figment of my skewed lense of imperfect-human reality and those who view me 

(or let's be serious, don't even care to 'view' me). 

I will recognize that this transition will inevitably be met with lessons, trials and errors, tears one minute and laughter the next, new roles, habits, and routines to learn and that most likely some cuts and scrapes and bruises will occur. I will choose to learn instead of become frustrated by lessons, and strive to be patient in the work God is continuing to do within me. 

Click through link credit: Emily Ley