In All Things, For His Glory

I have avoided writing specifically about this topic for what seems like forever. I've shared with some close friends, but didn't want to write publicly because I didn't want "everyone" to know, to speculate, to assume. But I started feeling like now was the time to share more.

I think people get it into their heads that it's better to keep things silent than share. We'd rather project a carefully crafted image than reveal a weakness. But our strength lies in what is shared, rather than what is kept silent. We need to hear from each other; we need to know that we all deal with things, some of us, with the same things. We need community and communication over competition and quiet. We need to know we're not alone.

So that's why I'm sharing this--it is something I wrote in my journal back in November 2018. But now I want to put it out there, for those walking a similar road. And those who aren't, but who might need to read this anyway and know what another road is like.

I feel like God has helped me reach a good place on the "we still don't have kids" journey. I know that sounds weird, but I don't know how else to phrase it. It has been a culmination of many things over the years, but it all seemed to come together one Sunday during a sermon. I don't remember what Sunday, or even the topic, but I just remember feeling like I could let it go, like I wanted to just release the whole thing. I wanted to let go of the sadness, the anger, the disappointment. I wanted to stop feeling sorry for myself, fully this time.

It's been a process, and I've had small moments of realization along the way. Like the time a friend announced that his wife was finally pregnant and I felt sad. As if that was some slight against me. And I realized I was missing out on experiencing the joy in life because I was allowing my sadness to consume me to the point I felt dead inside.

I decided I didn't want to waste any more time feeling sad. It didn't change over night. I still have moments where I feel sad. But I don't cling to the sadness any more. I don't wear it on my face, or call it up in the moments I see other people's baby announcements online. I don't live in it any more; I choose joy.

Another moment--or rather a collection of moments all combined--has been watching the drive to get pregnant consume people. Watching it become a relentless obsession for some, I knew I couldn't do it, I didn't want to become that. If I ran after something at all cost, I wanted it to be Jesus, not a baby. A baby brings joy, I have no doubt, but it cannot fulfill you. No person should have that place. And I knew I could become obsessed like that. I know I can fixate, I have every time I've wanted something. I can fixate until it consumes me. And though wanting to have a child isn't wrong, I knew the fixating would be. It could lead me down a road I did not want to travel, one where I could easily lose myself to an obsession with absolutely no guarantee of fulfillment.

A moment that happened more recently was a late period. I've had them before, and like some before, I took a pregnancy test which came back negative. Unlike other times, I had a split-second where I thought, directed at God, that it was cruel for Him to allow my period to be late. I knew it was wrong the moment I thought it, but I couldn't take it back.

God isn't cruel. Sin is cruel. Sin brings into our lives the pain, the problems. I didn't want to waste time thinking wrongly about God, like He was trying to torment me through this. He is the only hope and help I have at all times and in all things. He is bringing about good and His glory.

The truth is, I believe I will be a mom one day, but I think it will look different. It will be God-ordained, something that no one but He will bring to pass. I think it will be unique, something that can only be explained as an act of God so that He will get all the glory. I don't know when it will happen, but something else I've been learning is that God's story takes time. And it is His story, I am just a piece of it. But I get to be a part of it. I get to be in this story that He is writing, and I want Him to write my part as well.

I think that is something my college years and early 20s taught me. So many times I wanted to write my story, to decide the whos and whens and whats, because I thought my ideas were pretty great. I thought I could imagine the best story line for my life. There were also times I looked at my friends and thought that I would give anything to have their life and story.

I couldn't have been more wrong about any of that, but I didn't learn that until later down the road. It took time for me to learn and see that the story God was writing for me was FAR better than any I could construct. And looking back, really the only thing I wish I could do over is being better about trusting Him and waiting for His timing. Because every piece of my life--the big, amazing, important moments--have been God-ordained. They can only be explained as acts of God, things He has done.

All the things I've really wanted in life, the things I've longed for and craved, have come about in spectacular ways that only God can be given credit for. The first of these things was a sibling, and the story of Michael coming into our life is a straight-up miracle. We weren't even looking; God brought him to us.

The other one is my husband. I wanted to be married as long as I could remember, but my concept of marriage was so skewed, I really had no idea what I was wanting, or what marriage was truly like. And I don't think I ever would've imagined this marriage, it is so "other" than any concept I could have conceived, to the point that I can only credit God as the designer. Where I was so limited and simple in my concepts, He has brought depth, meaning, and complexity. Where I imagined the most human-centric dynamics and scenarios, He has given concepts and understanding beyond that, to a biblical, spiritual, and holy level.

No, on my own I never would have come up with an idea of a marriage like this. And through it, God has revealed to me a greater understanding of concepts in the Bible, of human dynamics, and why we were made for each other as male and female. And to be honest, I know I haven't even scratched the surface of godly, holy relationships. But what I have seen and come to understand demands that I praise, worship, and glorify God.

In all that I have learned, how could I not apply that to my desire to have children? How could I not allow that to shape my expectations, my wants, my plans? And if I am to do that well, I have to release it all to God, into His hands, into His care. He knows whose mother I need to be, and if, how and when it will happen. And that will be so much better than anything I could dream of on my own.

So because of that, I am releasing it all to Him. And I am releasing it because I want to be able to fully focus on where He has placed me and the ministry He has given me now. I don't want to waste time fixating, obsessing, planning, or feeling sorry for myself. I want to live fully alive in God's grace, for His glory.

My Name Reminds Me

I used to be Elise Loyola. It was a name that got butchered most of the time. Elsie. Elisa. Leslie. Even Denise. And Loyola was hard for almost everyone to say, especially telemarketers. It was just a last name, like Jones or Brown, but it became a part of me. My name was tangled up in my identity.

When I got married, I couldn't let Loyola go. I would always be Elise Loyola in some way. So I kept it as my middle name, and as part of my identity. Because when I hear Loyola, when I see it written down, it reminds me of who I am. It reminds me of us--the identifiers, the family members, what has come before. It reminds me of the pieces that make up my identity.

Loyola reminds me of my grandfather. A man who came to the United States from Cuba by boat when he was 18. It reminds me that there are many relatives and family members I will never know. It reminds me that he once told me I look like his mother. It reminds me that we were once immigrants without a home or a place to belong. It reminds me that their skin is swirled within mine.

Loyola reminds me that while so many came here to pursue the American Dream, Grandpa pursued something greater. He had a Kingdom Dream, and traveled as an evangelist throughout Latin America, sharing Jesus with all who would listen. He spoke to great crowds, and in small tribal villages. It reminds me that a great sacrifice is worth the price. While the American Dream is temporary, the Kingdom Dream is eternal.

Loyola reminds me of my grandmother, who faithfully cared for my grandpa after multiple strokes left him disabled. She served him until his last breath, showing what unconditional love looks like in real life, with skin and bones. It reminds me of her joy, her smile, her dedication.

Loyola reminds me of the footsteps of those who walked before and left a legacy for me to follow. Grandpa was the first minister of the gospel that I knew of, my father was the second. Loyola reminds me of him too. A man who also has a Kingdom Dream, who has pursued Jesus with his whole life, keeping no part from God. A man who has served in meekness and humility, and in that way exemplifies Christ to me. I am challenged by these great men.

Loyola reminds me of my mother, a strong woman who has been faithful to the call of God, even when it hasn't been easy. Who has allowed God to grow and change her from the inside out. Who has faithfully walked beside my father and served alongside him. Who gave up her job to raise me and my brother. She is my example of how to live my life in constant pursuit of the Lord, surrendering many things for Him.

Loyola reminds me of what I want to become. I want to have a Kingdom Dream, to keep no part of my life from God. I want to journey wherever He calls, to serve faithfully in meekness and humility. I want to be a strong woman who gives all she can to pursue Christ. I want to leave a legacy for those I hope will follow. Whatever they are called, whether or not they are my flesh and blood, I hope Loyola reminds them of an identity they share. And I hope it reminds them of who they want to become.

I'll Always Thank God for Iowa

Life is changing once again, in beautiful, painful, unignorable ways. I've come to learn that is how God works--He works in unexpected ways, in ways I often don't like, to move me to places I need to be. I think He does this because He knows I won't move on my own. Not without the slamming of doors, not without me kicking and screaming. Not until I realize that this is the only way.

God has taken me many places; I call it the nomad life. I don't think it's a life I would've chosen on my own, but the more I live it, the more thankful I am for it. It has brought me to more places and people than I ever would've known possible. It catches me off-guard at times, when I realize how spectacular it is to be in a place I never knew existed, colliding with the lives of people who never knew I existed.

The beauty of the nomad life exists in its painfulness--it is a kind of death that brings a new life. Something must end for something new to begin. I must leave behind people and places I have come to love in order to discover what awaits. As my time in Iowa ends, I can't help but reflect on this piece of my journey.

I tried everything not to live in Iowa. My family moved there, to Clinton, while I was in college. My first experiences of the state were on short visits and holiday breaks. After college, I tried to stay in Chicago, but cost of living quickly closed that door. Less than a year later, I tried to escape to Colorado and an idealized relationship. A year and a half later, dead ends, poor choices, and job loss left me with one alternative: return to Iowa.

Iowa became the place I called home for the next six years. It was undoubtedly a struggle at times, trying to find my place in a culture I couldn't relate to. I hadn't grown up in the Midwest, or lived on a farm, or even lived in a small town. But I met so many amazing people who became like family, who welcomed me in, and made Iowa my home.

My first Iowa family will always be the people of Clinton, particularly those from my church. They supported me through unemployment, the death of both of my grandfathers, my work at the Clinton Herald and my side photography business, my marriage to Nick, and our move to Iowa City. They opened their homes and their lives to a pastor's kid from Texas and made me part of the family.

The youth group in Clinton also helped solidify my love for youth ministry by allowing me to be a small group leader and occasional teacher. I will never forget those first students I was privileged to work with and know. It was truly an amazing experience to watch them grow up through the program, and to now see them as successful adults.

My second Iowa family has been forged through the past (almost) four years, after Nick and I relocated to the Iowa City area. Once again, a group of wonderful people welcomed us, made us feel at home, and gave us a family. We grew close to peers in our church, and the awesome group of young people who made up the youth group. Later, I would get an even bigger family through my job as I got to know and work with some of the best co-workers I've had.

I never could have guessed the bonds that would be born out of this family, a family that walked with us through many highs and lows. We have mourned together as we have experienced loss in many forms, and rejoiced at triumphs and answered prayers. We have journeyed to other states and countries, and cried on each others' couches. We've shared countless laughs and cups of coffee. We've challenged each other to grow, and shown up in the darkest of hours.

I will always thank God for bringing me to Iowa and giving me the family I found here. I wouldn't be who I am today without each person who became a brother or sister, grandparent, or child. And though God may be leading me elsewhere, I will carry my Iowa family in my heart, wherever the road may lead.

Dear Future Moody Student: An Open Letter

To be totally honest, this letter is more to my brother than anyone else. But I like to think that anyone heading off to Moody, or a Christian college in general, could find something of truth in these words. I hope I can pass on a bit of advice that, maybe in the good and hard moments alike, will stay with you.

To Michael (and other incoming Moodies),

Part of me is questioning why I'm even writing this. If I were honest, I'm not sure that 18-year-old college-bound me would've paid much attention. My head was in the clouds--I was just excited to be striking out on my own, to see what I would become and what I would do. At this point in life, you feel limitless. You can become anything, go anywhere, do anything. The world is at your feet.

But eventually, in four short years you will (hopefully) be an alum, like me, with a real-world job, real-world experiences, and real-world problems. You'll have wisdom and advice that you'll want to share with those who follow, and you'll hope that they will listen. Because life is fast--it's gone before you know what it has been. And you'll have the rest of your life to think about all the things you wish you had (and hadn't) done as an 18-year-old college student.

So this is my advice, the few things that I think are most important to pass on from my experience at the school that D.L. Moody founded.

1. People matter. You might forget this as you're sitting in new student orientation and they're telling you how much time you should devote to homework. Or when you're thinking about dating someone for completely selfish reasons. Or when you know and understand more about theology than most of your classmates. Or when someone is crying in your room but you're late for class, or dinner.

What they don't tell you, as a bright-eyed incoming freshman, is that ultimately, all you take with you are human souls. You get a degree for a few years, maybe 80-some if you're lucky. Maybe it helps you land your dream ministry job, or maybe it hinders you from securing the "secular" job you need to pay the bills. Either way, it's a piece of paper and you can't take it with you when you go. When "the roll is called up yonder" all you'll be seeing are people. And trust me, you want to see faces that you've cared for, not faces that you've walked over.

My advice is to make the most of your relationships and interactions. Remember that everyone is an image-bearer of God and immensely valuable, just like you. The people you'll meet, they don't care about how impressive your internship was, or how much you know about Calvin, or what your GPA was this semester. They will just long to be loved--Moody student and non-student alike--and you will have the opportunity to love them well. Don't miss out on that opportunity.

2. Keep your priorities straight. It will be really easy to get distracted, so set your priorities now and stick to them. There will be a million different groups and clubs and activities for you to join the moment your feet hit the plaza. And some of them might be really great things that you should definitely try, but not at the expense of what's most important.

I would rank priorities in this order: God, people, everything else. And within everything else will fall your classes, homework, a job or two, PCM, sports, clubs, the list goes on. And the thing is, lots of times at school, the priorities get shuffled to everything else, people, and then God.

Because at Moody, God is in so much of what you're doing every day, it can be easy to forget about making Him your top priority. You talk about Him in class, in chapel, in the dinning hall, in your dorm room, in your 20-page paper, at church, on the phone. And you read the Bible just as much. Eventually it will feel like the Bible is a textbook and God has enough of your time, He doesn't need any more. The struggle is in keeping Him the main thing all the time, and not losing your personal time with Him.

Fight for God to be a priority in your life, even when you don't feel like it. Even when you're jaded by Christian legalism, hypocrites, gossips, and unkind professors. Even when you're tired and just want to sleep. Even when you're not sure if this whole Christianity thing is for you. Even when everyone else is doing it, whatever it is. Don't lose your dedication to the Lord, He's what matters most.

3. Do your best. I'll be totally honest, some classes you'll be tempted to skate through. You'll want to take as many short cuts as you can find, especially when you're taking 18 credit hours, working 30, and sleeping four. But don't forget why you came to Moody. You're there to become a minister of the gospel, well-equipped and wise. You're there to be trained, to grow, to learn as much as you can and use it in the future. You're there to be sharpened and shaped into a better version of yourself.

Remember that when you want to cut corners, to sign off on the reading but not actually do it, to take a power nap in class. You might be able to pass, but it won't help you in the future. The less you dedicate now, the less you'll have to give later when you're relying on your training to do your job. And at that point, you'll wish you hadn't been texting through class, playing kitten cannon on your laptop, or sleeping instead of studying.

With that said, you can't do it all. You will have to let some things go. You won't be able to go to every party, every downtown adventure, every on-campus event. And trust me, in the long run, those are the things you'll want to sacrifice over your papers, projects, and grades. You don't have to be a hermit, but you'll have to know how to prioritize and when to say no.

4. Have fun. So yes, there are lots of really important things like grades and jobs, but you also need to have fun. Making time for friends, activities, and exercise will help keep you sane. My biggest stress reliever in college was going to the gym. Sometimes it would be playing basketball, other days I would just run as fast and as far as I could. I needed that on the days when I felt frustrated and out of control (aka, most days).

My other stress reliever was having a close friend or two who knew me really well and loved just the same. I made a lot of mistakes, before college and in college. Having a best friend to be around helped me to open up and be honest about myself and my feelings. And let me tell you, you go through a lot of different emotions and situations in college. Having someone to help navigate that means the world.

Life is really short and you've only got one shot at it. Make it a good shot. You may fail sometimes--on tests or in relationships or at jobs--but that doesn't mean life is over. All it means is that you have a chance to learn something, to grow, and to become great.

I hope you love your time at Moody and that it's everything you hope for and more.

- Elise

FIRST LOOK: Michael's Senior Portraits

I got to spend part of Labor Day taking the first round of my brother Michael's senior portraits. We plan to do more in some different locations when the weather cools down a little and we have some more time. When I initially when through the 300+ photos I snapped, I pulled out a few favorites to quickly edit and share. I was mostly excited to get these photos out because it's the first real session I've done with my new camera!

I can so easily see the difference in the beauty and quality of these photos compared to the ones I took with my old camera. The operator is still the same, my eye hasn't changed, but the photo quality itself is a million times better! I feel like it backs up my training and practice as a photographer.

I bought my first camera as a broke college student, so at the time it was pretty great for what I could afford. I was taking a photography class and rather than share one of the school's few rentable cameras with classmates, I opted to buy my own. It paid off not only in doing my homework for the class, but getting the opportunity to start taking photographs for friends and family.

Over time, however, the quality of my camera began to decline as the quality of others improved. Camera companies were constantly adding more megapixels and camera features. Anyone and everyone was suddenly becoming a "photographer" simply because they had a nice camera. Don't get me wrong, I love that cameras are opening a door to helping the masses take great photos. But at the same time, there's no replacement for training and years of practice.

I'm so excited to explore the options and possibilities of photography with this new camera. I love when photographs can freeze a moment of our lives and convey emotion, personality and passion. It's something we can't quite replace as time rushes forward and life moves on. We now have this great ability to keep pieces of our past forever, in a beautiful and rich representation.

For this particular shoot, I really enjoyed getting to capture my brother in this stage of life. Senior year is like a deep breath before everything changes. It's the threshold of adulthood, a slice of time in which you're still a kid living at home, and yet you're preparing to move on to a new, totally different reality.

I love that everyone's story is different after high school ends. A lot of people move on to college, but each one is so different, different places with different people and different experiences. I can't wait to see what my brother's story will be, and I'm excited to be apart of this time of transition. I get to capture some special moments and cheer him on at the same time.

I know that Michael will go on to do some really great things. He's a special person with amazing gifts and talents. He's creative and funny, intelligent and musical. Things always seem to come easy to him, so I know he'll be able to succeed at whatever he wants to do.

Congrats on making it to senior year, Michael! Finish strong and don't forget to have some fun! I love you!

Explored: Northern Michigan

July has been such a busy month! I feel like we've been doing almost non-stop traveling since the month began. I haven't had a moment to sit down and write on the blog until now.

Over the last week and a half, Nick and I got to travel to northern Michigan, specifically the Mackinaw City/Mackinac Island area, and some of the Upper Peninsula. I wanted to share our adventures and photos in a new "Explored" post so here goes!

You might say that Michigan is in my blood. My mom grew up there, my parents honeymooned in Mackinaw City, our family lived in the Flint area for a few years, and we've vacationed in Mackinaw several times.

Going back this time was like seeing an old friend after 8 years apart. Last time we were in Mackinaw, I was going into my senior year of college, Michael was 9, and Nick and I hadn't dated yet (though we were friends). This time, Nick and I were celebrating our second wedding anniversary on a trip that included time with family and ended with a wedding in Flint.

We headed out on our road trip on Friday, July 10, and drove to Mackinaw City. We decided to stay in the city, which is on the mainland, and visit Mackinac Island a few times throughout our stay. Our first trip over to the island--via ferry boat--was on Saturday.

During special trips to the island, some of the ferry lines will take a little detour and drive under the massive Mackinac Bridge which serves as the dividing line between Lake Michigan and Lake Huron. It also connects the Lower and Upper Peninsulas.

It was so cool to ride under the bridge and see it up close. Many people said it couldn't be built, but here it stands today, the Mighty Mac!

After the ferry ride (which if you sit on the upper deck, is very windy!), we arrived at Mackinac Island. The island is 8.2 miles around and doesn't allow motorized vehicles. Visitors and residents travel by bike or horse-drawn carriage.

The "downtown" area is filled with lots of shops, restaurants, and hotels. A block off main street we found a little coffee shop I had discovered on Instagram prior to our trip, Lucky Bean Coffeehouse. (If you're ever on Mackinac Island, you must go there, it's delicious!) After that we rented bikes and were off on a little trip around the island!

After a fun first day on the island, we spent Sunday hanging out on the mainland in Mackinaw City. That included shopping, checking out different restaurants and coffee shops, playing mini golf, and enjoying the beach and view at our lakeside hotel.

 

On Monday we celebrated our second wedding anniversary with another trip to the island. This time we rented a drive-it-yourself carriage, took a walk, got more coffee, and had dinner at the Mission Point Resort.

On Tuesday, my family arrived in Mackinaw City and we enjoyed spending the rest of our trip together. This included more mini golf and coffee, another (final) trip to the island, a drive over the Mackinac Bridge and time in the UP, and of course, more good food.

On our last trip to Mackinac Island, Nick and I biked around the island again with my dad and brother. We also climbed up to Arch Rock (207 steps to be exact). The climb was worth it because the view was fantastic. The water was beautiful shades of turquoise and blue and we could see sailboats that had come in during the Chicago Yacht Club's Race to Mackinac.

I always encourage anyone who asks me about the Mackinaw area to visit. It's a great place to have a relaxing vacation, as busy or as chill as you want it to be. You can travel to surrounding areas and see the sights, or just stick with local options. It's always beautiful and full of friendly people and yummy fudge (though I go for the ice cream, myself). ;)

Have you been to Mackinac Island? Or are you planning a trip there in the future? I'd love to hear about your experience or what you're hoping to do!