Thoughts After Houston

Setting foot back in Texas was like coming home. It makes sense initially, the place you lived the longest and grew up should feel like home. But I had never lived in Houston, only Dallas and its surrounding cities, which is why the feeling of belonging surprised me. Everything felt right, familiar, even in a place I had never spent much time. It was strange to feel that way, and I realized I haven’t felt at home, in the way I felt then, since I left Texas. I haven’t felt at home for 18 years.

Feeling like I belonged made me brave. 

 

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I used to be an extrovert. Then at some point I turned into more of an introvert as a defense mechanism. It was during my sophomore year of high school, when we moved to Michigan and I didn’t fit in anywhere. I felt like an awkward outcast, so I kept my mouth shut. I learned to be quiet so that I couldn’t reveal how little I knew, how truly clueless I was. Now I’d say I’m an introverted extrovert. I’m not always good at striking up conversations or thinking of things to say. I love alone time. I second-guess how my goofy yet dry sense of humor will be received. I hate trying to make small talk. 

But the bravery I felt helped to diminish my fear of talking to strangers. I found it easy to start conversations, to engage in playful banter, to take conversations to a deeper level. I found it easy to share random stories from my life, and I didn’t feel too guilty doing it. People made me feel like they wanted to know about me. And I realized I didn't feel like that much as an adult. Maybe people just assume there isn’t much to know about a 30-something pastor’s wife. But the people we met in Texas made me feel interesting, and I was interested in them too.

 

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Being in Houston was a simple adventure. We weren’t doing anything glamorous, just working on homes that were damaged by Hurricane Harvey when it hit in August 2017. It’s funny how most of the country has forgotten about Harvey, but there is still so much work to be done. We weren't even supposed to be there, we were planning to go to Haiti. But our change of plans was God's plan all along. He had work for us to do.

 

On the outside, most of the houses in Houston look beautiful. But the inside is a different story. And isn’t that a metaphor for the human condition—outside we look so put together, but no one knows how broken we are on the inside, or how empty. So many people left and never came back, we were told.

 

We talked about this, and looked for signs of Harvey’s aftermath as we walked the neighborhood where we worked. Dead patches in the St. Augustine grass and remnants of discarded debris told stories of what had been dumped on front lawns. So many things had been ruined by the water. Videos and photos of the devastation reminded us what had happened where we stood.

 

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The house where my team worked was owned by an older gentleman who our team fell in love with. The first day he described how much water had been standing in his home, and how it had been a year since anyone had worked on his house. I fought back tears. It changes things when you stand in a home and look at a person face-to-face. It gives a voice, a name, a human spirit to the things you see on the news.

I was so glad our team got to work in his house. We felt like a little family, spending the days talking and laughing in between the work. It didn’t feel like we really did much—we spent the whole time installing trim. But it was one important step in the work that would continue after we left. And eventually maybe his house will feel like home again.

 

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We also spent a lot of time praying—each morning before we started working we “prayed in” the day. We also prayed at lunch, and at the end of the day. For a little while each day after lunch we went on prayer walks through the neighborhood. We didn’t see many people in the middle of the day and the Texas heat, but we still prayed for them. We hoped that teams after us would be able to interact more with the residents, to tell them why we were there and what we were doing.

 

We did get to meet Mr. Stewart in another neighborhood 15 minutes away, where a team from our group was working. Mr. Stewart told us stories of growing up as an African American, and what people called him. He fed us mustard greens and corn bread. He had us write down our phone numbers so he could call and make sure we made it home alright. Mr. Stewart sits in his garage every day and waves at everyone who drives past. I couldn't help wishing I could spend a year sitting in his garage, hearing his stories.

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On our last full day in Texas, a local church hosted a dinner for our group, and whoever from the community wanted to come. We all shared stories from the week, ate delicious food, and celebrated the ways we had seen God working throughout the week. We celebrated the simplest of things, like changed plans and safety navigating the complex Texas highways. It's amazing how good it feels to do something for someone else, how good it feels to watch people come alive again, how good it feels to come alive yourself.

Leaving Texas, I realized I could do that—I could help people come alive, I could help people feel important. And that it really doesn't take any extraordinarily special skills. Just the ability to look someone in the eye, to ask them a question, to listen to their answer. The ability to make someone feel seen and heard, it was an ability I had forgotten I possessed, but I didn't want to forget again. It is an ability that can open the door to so many other things.

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There was once a girl who lived in Texas and loved it—the baking heat, the state pride, the trips to the rodeo, the people she knew, all of it. And she never dreamed of living anywhere else. But over time she moved to other places, places where she never ever thought she'd live. And truthfully, at first she hated it, and wanted to move back to Texas. But then she grew used to it, and eventually accepted it, and lived in six other places after leaving her home.

And then one day she found out, after all of the years and miles had passed, that she was going back. She was going back to Texas with a group of people she had met in those other places. People who reminded her of the goodness of God, even on the darkest of days. People who showed her the beauty to be found beyond the familiar. And she realized that it had all been a gift—the leaving, the heartache, the new friends in new cities—a gift that brought her to this moment. A gift that gave her purpose.

Life was never what she expected, but it had become beautiful indeed.

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

How I Feel About Turning 30

Have you ever had a moment when you finally understood that life was going to change, whether you were ready for it or not? I first had this moment when I realized the 90s weren't going to last past 1999. Somewhere in my kid brain I thought it would be the 90s forever. Then when I realized my senior year would fall in the 2000s, my mind was blown in a slightly disappointed way. I wanted to be a "class of 90-something" not the class of 2004.

I feel like life is made up of many of these little moments where we have to adjust our perspective. High school won't last forever and neither will college. These huge life milestones sometimes feel insurmountable, but before you know it, they're over. That's how I felt about my twenties until this past year. They were a season I spent a decade in, they were my life, I guess some part of me didn't expect them to end.

Yet here I am, 29 and on the home stretch to 30. Soon this season I've been existing in for so long will just be a memory, like high school and college. And as scary as it is to move on, I feel like I'm finally ready. I guess that's what this past year was for. It led me gently into a transition I couldn't get away from. I thought I'd be fearing my 30s and all that they represent, but it turns out I'm excited.

When I look at my 20s, I see messiness. I see a lot of striving to become something. I see many mistakes. I see disorder and my attempts to control my life (which failed miserably). I see the missteps I've taken, the frivolous things I've pursued. I see the people I should never have run after, and the ones who changed my life. I see some triumphs sprinkled with failure and doubt. I see loss, tears, and temptations. Much of my 20s were troubling times.

And while there were definite highs, successes, and joys, I am happy to leave the tumult of my 20s behind. They were a season of painful growth, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. As I look to 30 and see a fresh start in a new life season, I see opportunities to grow from the person I was to the person I hope to be.

I want my 30s to be a season marked by a constant movement toward holiness. I want to step farther away from myself and into a life devoted to godliness and Christ-likeness. I want to see less of me and more of Him. I don't want to see the reckless selfishness of my 20s. I don't want to constantly relive the past in an attempt to "stay young." I want to move forward boldly into whatever God may hold. And I know He holds much that I have yet to discover.

I have a lot of hopes and dreams for my 30s. I'm letting them all go for the dream of pursuing God harder than I ever have before. Rather than looking to my goals and being sidetracked by selfish hopes, I'm looking to what God has for me. I know that will take constant refocusing, because if I didn't learn anything else from my 20s, I learned it's easy to become derailed by your own desires. I don't want my 30s to become marked by the same mistake.

Whatever life phase you find yourself in, I want you to know, it's not too late. You're never too old, too young, too lost, or too far-gone to pursue a life with Christ. All it takes is a small step--choosing Him over everything else--to transform your life. And the best part is, you won't be alone. He will always be with you, and so will those who have also committed their lives to Him. Let's go on this crazy journey together and see where He will take us.

What I Learned About Relationships From My Dating Life

{Preface: After I wrote this blog post about 14 things I love about my husband, Nick, I got great feedback from some of you! Because of that, I wanted to talk more about relationships. This time though, I'm opening up about what I learned during my past dating relationships.}

Let me be totally honest with you, in college I was pretty desperate. Not so desperate as to go after anything that moved, but desperate enough to be interested in practically every cute and appealing boy that crossed my path. And usually I liked multiple boys at the same time. Many multiple boys.

I hadn't been allowed to date in high school. I had liked boys, and a few times they had come over to my house to hang out with me and my family, but I had never been on an actual date. Thus, during freshman year of college, my desire to date was out of control. This continued for years because, honestly, I hated being single.

Sometimes desperation or desire, and misplaced priorities, cause you to seek relationships that you really shouldn't enter into. I bought into the "Disney princess" lie that I should be seeking a perfect handsome prince to come along and sweep me off my feet. Then life would be wonderful and we would live happily ever after. So I looked for anyone who would fit within my shallow priorities, hoping magic would happen.

Honestly, looking back I don't really know what I was doing. I wish I could've just stopped worrying about being single long enough to actually enjoy it. But feelings of rejection from my high school years plagued me and for whatever reason, I couldn't let it go. I made plenty of mistakes, and over time I eventually learned the lessons I needed to learn.

1. A relationship won't complete you. You can know this all day, but until you believe it, it won't make a difference. You have to learn who you are as a person, believe the truth of who Jesus says you are, and become complete in Him. No person can ever make you whole. Sure, a person can bring some happiness to your life, but they can also bring sorrow. If your identity is in a person, eventually things will crash and burn and you will feel hurt and disappointed. Because let's be honest, we all make mistakes, we all screw up, we all do things wrong.

2. A relationship doesn't give you value. You are valuable exactly as you are for who you are. You already possess all of your value, you cannot be given more. People or things may lie to you, telling you that because of how you look or what you've done, that you are somehow less. But these are lies. The truth is your value cannot be taken away, nothing will change the fact that you are immensely valuable to God, to the world, to your family, to your friends. Don't let the lies of others distract you from the truth. (For more on your value, read this post.)

3. Don't allow someone to pressure you to compromise your standards. Some people are really good at being manipulators. They can twist their words and make you feel bad for sticking to your standards, even though holding onto your values is a good thing. If the person you're dating is willing to make you compromise something, even if they claim it's "out of love," they are NOT the person for you.

Set your own boundaries and standards for a relationship before you get into one. If the person you start dating can't respect your boundaries, then they don't respect you and are just using you to get what they want. It sounds harsh, but you need to get out of that relationship and not give that person any more of your time. The right person for you will never try to pressure you to do anything compromising for any reason, whether it may sound valid or not.

Side note: If someone has done something to you that is wrong, you need to end the relationship--if you are still in it--and also tell someone about it immediately. If you are being hurt, abused or mistreated in any way, please talk to an adult you trust. Don't try to make sense of it, rationalize it, or make excuses for the abuser. Abuse in any form is wrong and should not be allowed to continue.

4. The best relationships are built on friendship. Romance and feelings are always nice things, but they're not solid. Feelings change over time, which is why many marriages end in divorce, when people think they have "fallen out of love." The truth is, love is a choice, not a feeling. So rather than building a relationship on the shifting sands of feelings, you need to build it on something solid.

Friendship is a great place to start before beginning a romantic relationship. You get to know the other person for who they are as a person, not who they are presenting themselves to be in order to impress you. You can learn how to be good, loyal friends to each other, how to have each other's backs, how to support each other, and how to be there without expecting anything in return. You will learn how to communicate well, how to understand the other person, and how to stick with them through the hard, icky times.

Why does all that matter for a relationship? Because life is full of pain, low points, hurt, icky times, failure, and changing feelings. A friendship foundation helps you learn how to weather the hard times with loyalty, and it teaches you how to stay together even when you're not feeling it. Because, I'll be totally honest with you, sometimes in marriage, you don't feel it. It's not always romantic and wonderful, because real life is what you walk through together and real life is hard. So, do your future relationship a huge favor and start with friendship.

5. Learn from every relationship mistake. We're all human, we're going to make mistakes, it's a part of life. Don't beat yourself up about it, but don't live in your mistakes it either. There was a period in my life where one bad relationship choice led to another and eventually I was living in a festering pool of mistakes. I thank God that He forgave me called me up out of it because it could've gotten a lot worse. I ended up taking a six month break from even thinking about dating in order to get myself back on track mentally, spiritually and emotionally.

My advice to you is if you have made a mistake, or if you haven't yet but in the future if you do, do your best to learn from it. Take some time to think about what happened, why, and what you should do moving forward. If you're a writer, I recommend journaling about it. If you need to, seek forgiveness. Ask for help from God, and someone in your life you trust. It's so freeing to be able to talk openly with a friend and allow them into your life to help you.

6. Look for someone who truly loves and seeks Jesus. I saved the best for last, and really everything fits under this one important point. We have lots of Christian-y catch phrases for this one. Like the one about a woman "being so lost in God a guy has to seek Him to find her." Whatever. The main thing you need to be looking for is a person who has a solid and growing relationship with Jesus. That relationship will affect everything they do, in a really great way, and thus affect your relationship with them. It's the one and only way to have an amazing relationship. And trust me, with Jesus at the center, it will be amazing.

I'd love to talk with you about relationships, anything in this post, life, or whatever. If we see each other in real life, come talk to me. Otherwise you can shoot me an email.

What I Hope for 29

In a week and a half I'll be turning 29, and honestly, it's a birthday that I've been thinking about a lot because of what it means. It means I'll be in the last year of my 20s, a time of life that I have loved. It means that my next birthday after it is 30, and I don't know how to be a 30-year-old. It means that, like it or not, time is marching on and I can't stop it.

I knew I wanted to write about this birthday, but I couldn't decide quite what to say. I had some different ideas for ways to mark this transition, but they all seemed too self-serving. So I started thinking about what I really wanted to accomplish this year, so that when 30 arrives, I can look back and know that 29 was great.

My little ideas for how to celebrate this last remnant of youth started to dissolve away as I realized they really weren't important at all. What was important, however, started rising to the top and I knew that's what I needed to write about, and hopefully encourage you with. Even if you're long past 29, or not yet in your 20s, I believe this is can be important for every age.

What I Hope for 29

I hope that next year, when 29 ends, I will look back and say it was the best year ever. Not because I did a million fun things, or because I achieved a new goal, but because I became more like Jesus. At the root of everything, that's all I want for this year: to change more and more into who God wants me to be.

I've been a follower of Jesus for over two decades. When I look back over my life, I see lots of different seasons. Some seasons were easy, self-centered times when all I worried about was my life and what I wanted to happen. Other seasons were excruciating, times of loss and brokenness when all I had to hold on to was God and His promise to never leave me. There were seasons of walking closely with God and times where I went off on my own path only to get lost along the way.

I feel like now God is calling me into a season of preparing myself for whatever He may have for me next, whether in the immediate future or later down the road. To me that looks like spending time reading the Bible, engaging in Christian community, looking for opportunities to serve, and not discounting or wishing away this stage of life, but taking advantage of it. It's about making myself available to whatever He may have, even if it seems insignificant.

I've spent a lot of my life wishing for other things. As a child I wanted a bigger family with lots of siblings. As a teenager I just wanted to get out of high school and on to college. In college all I wanted was to be in a relationship and get married. After college I wanted to see all my hopes and dreams materialized at any cost and I wasted a lot of time fruitlessly chasing them. I don't want that to be true for this season. I want to live in this season, to be present, and to make the most of it.

One of my pastors recently said, "Contentment is a bi-product of a pursuit of godliness." Oh how true that is. Focusing on God gets our eyes off of ourselves, off of whatever selfish thing we want now, off of whatever we think is wrong in our lives. Focusing on God helps us to see His plan, to trust Him, and to move toward whatever He is calling us to with obedience and faith. We can be content knowing Whom we serve and that He is in control of everything.

Throughout every season of life, God has never failed me. He led me through the challenging times, provided for me in times of need, even gave me above and beyond what I deserved. He was faithful even when I was not. Because of this, I know I can trust Him with 29, and whatever may lay beyond. I don't have to worry about achieving goals or growing older because He will always be there giving me purpose and hope.

What I Hope for You

My hope for you is the same. I hope that wherever you are in your life, whatever season you are in, that you will move toward Jesus. He is the best thing for you, the best investment of your time, the best at loving you. He is the best.

Life can be discouraging. Circumstances can feel overwhelming. Problems can lead to hopelessness. There is always trouble. But in the midst of all that is wrong and bad, Jesus is there, holding out His hand, wanting you just as you are. He wants you to lean on Him through everything because He can handle anything. He tells us, "In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

Maybe you already have a relationship with Jesus and you need to remember this truth and pursue Him this year. Or maybe you're not really sure what He's all about and you have questions. Wherever you may be, I want you to know that I would love to talk to you about it. If you need encouragement, if you have questions, if you need truth, I am always here to talk and to share. I certainly don't have everything figured out, but the great thing is, we can learn and grow together.

I hope this year is great, and I can't wait to see what God will do in each of us!

Life Lessons and Confessions of an Ugly Girl

"Ew, gross. Why are your hands all wet?"

Recoiling, I feverishly rub my sweaty palms against my jeans, mutter sorry, and subconsciously add this to the list of things that are repulsive about me.

If you asked me what I thought about myself in high school, I would've told you that I think I'm ugly. I have eyes that disappear if they're not rimmed in something--mascara or eyeliner--proven by the fact that if they're not, people ask me if I'm tired or sick. I sweat much more than the normal person, in grotesquely obvious places, like my armpits, hands and feet. Going to class wearing pit stains isn't exactly an ideal feature. My feet and occasionally my arms are ravaged by eczema, a painful skin condition that keeps me from wearing sandals because no one wants to see that. And my butt is rather large, as has been pointed out to me on numerous occasions, leaving me feeling chunky, or stout as I like to think of myself.

When I was a kid, I didn't really think about my looks. But I did grow up in the era of Disney princesses and their cartoons, which taught me that all desirable ladies have at least one thing in common: beauty. How I looked never seemed to matter, much. I was tall for my age and had a lot of guy friends, who treated me like a guy most of the time. My first almost-boyfriend came along in 8th grade. Nothing really happened because I wasn't allowed to date. We talked on the phone a few times and I found out he and his friend had nicknamed me 'nef,' which stood for 'never ending forehead.' I hadn't given my forehead much thought before that, but after, I agreed it was rather bulbous.

My yearbook photo from sophomore year,
which I hated, of course.

Before my sophomore year of high school, we moved, which aided in confirming my suspicions about my looks. The only guys who talked to me were the socially awkward ones, the sexual predators, or the ones who wanted to copy my homework. I was kind of a loner nerd who didn't know how to dress, so that didn't help my cause. No one asked me to a school dance, much less on a date. When I compared myself to the girls who did get asked out, there was one glaring difference. They were pretty and perfect, I most definitely was not. I befriended who I could, finding that not everyone--like the guy who sexually harassed me in class multiple times--could be trusted. It was a long, scary road, filled with depression and self degradation. I started focusing on everything I did wrong, trying to fix what I could about myself. If I could project a composed, perfected image, I could disguise the ugly parts.

Me around junior year.

My senior year I asked a guy friend--who had liked me for a while, but lived about an hour away--to be my date for prom. He agreed, but made it clear we were just friends and he wasn't interested. At this point, I didn't care, I just wanted a date to keep me from looking like a total loser. I had gone stag enough. I planned a pose for our pre-dance portraits that would keep us from having to hold hands as mine would undoubtedly be clammy. At the dance, my date was busy trying to get my girl friend's number because she was cute. I got left out during a slow song and swept up by the resident gay couple because they felt sorry for me.

At this point, I was just ready for college. It would be a fresh start, with mature, Christian guys, and since I would be out of high school, I could actually date. Maybe one of them could see past the flaws that seemed so glaringly obvious to me. And deep down inside, I think I felt a needless desperation for some kind of validation. Validation that would say, 'You aren't ugly, you are beautiful, and these flaws, they aren't deal breakers.' And even though I knew God loved me, made me, saw me as beautiful, I thought I needed something human to say the same.

At new student orientation, just before the start of my
freshman year of college.

Freshman year of college was a blast. An exciting, crazy blast of emotions, feelings, and newness. I got to completely start over, no longer having to be the loner nerd because practically everyone was new, or friendly. There were so many people, girls and guys, to meet and befriend. And lots of nice, normal guys actually acknowledged me, something that had been foreign for so many years. It instantly brought back my childhood, when I had been more of a tomboy, with all my guy friends. I relished it all, soaking it all up, making the most of opportunities, and finding myself caught off guard when people would hint at me being pretty. Pretty? That's the last thing I thought I was. I was the awkward, ugly, quiet girl in the corner who was virtually invisible.

When guys would ask me to hang out or go out, I would never turn them down. I couldn't believe it was actually happening, and I never knew when 'hanging out' might turn into something more. Not that I was dying to hurry up and get engaged, but I had always wanted to get married. I thought most people met their spouse in college, so why needlessly shut a good guy down? I saw lots of girls being much more selective. If they weren't sure about a guy, they'd turn him down immediately. In my mind, it wasn't serious until a guy said so, so what was the harm in a simple date? (And it never got serious with anyone but Nick.)

Nick and I hanging out during my senior year at Moody.

I slowly learned that my modus operandi, in an environment like that, would turn me from an ugly girl into a 'dating whore.' Or at least that's what other people decided because they thought I hung out, or 'went out,' with too many guys. I was labeled as 'trouble,' and a slew of other things, from the people I had first befriended and trusted, throwing me into a world I didn't know and making me into something I wasn't. In less than a year I was living on the 'other side' of girl-dom, feeling bitter and confused, not knowing how someone ugly could be so much trouble. I didn't know which one was better, or worse, I just knew I had to keep being me, despite what everyone else was saying or thinking.

Sometimes when I look back on college, I wish I could change things, do things differently. But then I realize that I wish I could change others more than myself because I was changing. I wish I could change what they thought about me and thus how they treated me, because what I was doing was needed. It was a part of growing up, learning to be confident in myself and not sell myself short. I was learning how to lead balanced relationships with the opposite sex. Not ones that fulfilled me as a woman, or gave me value and purpose, but ones that reminded me that I was an important human being, a good friend, and a valuable member of a community. That I could go into the world, conquer it's challenges, make a difference in society, and not be defined by my flaws, insecurities, or ugliness.

There are so many things wrong with how society treats women, I could fill a dozen other posts, but this is the one I think about when I think about me, the ugly girl. Women are told to find their value in all the wrong things, all the wrong places. And if they don't have what it takes to 'have value' in those areas, they are dismissed as somehow less. A physical body should not hold more value than a loving soul or a sharp mind. These things will live on, while a physical body will age and decay. And while it takes more than one person to change a society's view, one person can change someone else's view, and then you have two. So if you're reading this, it's time to change your view. What makes women unique and special and important isn't their face or skin or hair or body. It's their heart, mind, and soul, things that dictate how they live, love, and interact with the world. It's their wit, intelligence, service, dedication, contributions, and character that truly matter, that make them beautiful and unique.

To all the girls who have thought or do think they're ugly, I've walked that road with you. It took a long time for me to see myself differently, and sometimes I still don't believe it. Sometimes I stand in front of the mirror and pick apart the things that are wrong with me. Rarely do I stand in front of the mirror and list the things that are right. I think today we make a change, look inside, find that makes us really beautiful--the things that will last--and tell this shell of a physical body, that it's beautiful too.

When Life Throws You Curve Balls

I say, when life throws you curve balls, get out your mitt and practice catching. It's time to learn a new skill.

I don't think I ever thought of myself as a career girl, but I've always loved writing. I assumed for a long time that it was all I'd be doing. From my earliest days scribbling stories about ponies to posting work on Fiction Press, from writing for a start up youth magazine in high school to studying writing in college, I assumed the trail I was blazing for myself would continue. But in the back of my mind I always thought about all the other things I wanted to try.

I liked majoring in Print Media, it gave me a chance to try graphic design, photography, and public relations. I started liking this concept of juggling multiple tasks and not just writing. Writing would always be my first love, but my "jack of all trades" personality kept drawing me to new and different things.

I never was involved in organized sports as a child, that is until I was 12 and had the chance to join my school's basketball team. Then I discovered that along with a love for reading and writing, there was also a love for sports. I sort of knew it was there all along since I grew up watching [and acting out epic scenes from] "Hoosiers," which was my favorite movie after "The Black Stallion," and since I saved up money to buy my own hoop to play on with friends.

Over time I developed a love for things like art [drawing, painting, crafting, and scrapbooking], photography, doing hair and makeup [my own and my friends'], singing, acting, blogging, and general DIY projects. Anything I could do myself, I would. And I still do.

In college my love for basketball [and various other sports] continued to grow when I played on the team freshman year. After that I had to quit so I could get a job to pay for school, but what better place to work than the gym? I could still be in the sports culture, even if I wasn't playing. So I signed up to run the score board or shot clock during games and worked at the front desk on the other days.

After college I actually got into my "career field" relatively quickly after getting hired as a reporter at a small town newspaper. It wasn't my ideal writing job, but I was happy to be doing what I loved. I worked there for several years combined, moving from a reporter to a digital editor, another opportunity to try something new. And this position wasn't one that college really prepared me for [past the writing and the editing], as I picked up many of the skills on my own from using social networking sites and sitting through webinars.

Along the way I've also worked in healthcare, food service, a factory, a church, and a distribution center. Not always because I wanted to, but because sometimes I had to catch a curve and do something different. And now I'm doing something totally new: working in retail, which I actually really like. It's bringing together all the things I love about clothes and fashion [an interest I developed after college] and helping women build their self-esteem through the shopping experience.

At each job I've had, I've learned something about work and humanity. I've picked up new skills and new perspectives on life and the workforce. Would I like to be a "career girl"? Sure, some days it sounds divine. But at the same time, I wouldn't trade these experiences for anything. I've gotten to do what I've always wanted: different things, some totally outside my comfort zone. And I've built for myself a resume of time and experiences, of opportunities and connections, that I wouldn't change one bit.

My Marriage: The [Way, Way] Backstory

With Valentine's Day around the corner, I've been in the mood to write about relationships and love. [Surprise, surprise!] So, here is the backstory on my relationship with Nick. :)

Since we moved to Iowa City, I've been sharing the story of how Nick and I met and how we ended up together. And while I tell an abridged version--about how we were so different when we met and how much we changed before we knew we were supposed to be together--I always want to tell more.

Change was the biggest thing that brought us back together, the fact that we both changed, grew up, and it was all for the better. And while we both changed, I can only really attest to my own change, the change I so thankfully lived, that I can look back on and rejoice that I am not the same person I used to be when Nick and I first met.

Nick and I met in college, at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. And as I'm sure other people who grew up sheltered will attest, going off to college is like being reborn. You're suddenly experiencing so many things for the first time--the heady rush of freedom, the liberating sense of personal responsibility, and the overwhelming knowledge that you get to decide your own path now. At least, that's how it was for me. I still remember those first few nights, the realization that I could essentially go and do what I wished, without permission, without checking in. It was amazing.

My parents and me on my first day as a student at Moody.

My freshman year was a whirlwind of life as lived out by an 18-year-old experiencing so many things for the first time. The biggest thing was finally being able to date, even though I didn't really go on many dates, mostly just hanging out with guy friends and talking with my roommate about which boys we thought were cute. In it all there were endless possibilities to find a handsome "prince charming" of sorts, since that's what it seemed like everyone did in college. They met their soul mate and rode off into a blissful sunset, painted by the masterful artists at Disney.

At the end of my freshman year with my roommate, Gracie.

After freshman year ended, I went back home for the summer and started dating my first boyfriend, who to my surprise, I hadn't met at school. But he was a cute, Christian guy and all that, so everything was perfect... except not. I realized how wrong it was once I got back to school. Distance is always a good test for relationships. Living close, seeing the other person regularly is easy. Trying to keep in touch over dorm phones and instant messenger is harder, much much harder. That relationship caused me to question so many things, like should I really stay in school? Why not just drop out and get married? What was the point of all this anyway?

At the start of sophomore year with girls from my floor.

Thankfully, God got my attention and didn't let me ruin my college career over one relationship. But the breakup was difficult and messy and the following semester was a slow climb out of a deep pit. I chopped off my hair, deciding an outward change should remind me of an inward one, however slow it might be.

With Rachel, Megan, and Gracie at the end of sophomore year.

Nick in his dorm room during his first semester at Moody.

The next semester, the start of my junior year, I met Nick. I don't remember much about our meeting as it was a quick introduction by a mutual friend and I was already interested in a new guy who was also on Nick's floor. Even at a small Bible college, it was easy to shift from cute guy to cute guy. If one wasn't interested, or things didn't work out, there was always another cute guy to be interested in, especially during my junior year. But now looking back with several years behind me, I can see how God spared me from even greater heartache by causing things to end when they did.

Midway through junior year with Molly and Bethany.

Nick just before the start of his junior, my senior, year.

Nick and I didn't really hang out until another mutual friend invited us separately to see Spider Man 3 on opening night. Of course, being the boy crazy person I was, I was interested in this mutual friend so I immediately accepted the invitation. What I didn't know was that the mutual friend also had a thing for my roommate, so he wasn't totally sold on me. I ended up sitting between him and Nick, and while he wasn't interested in talking as we waited for the movie to start, Nick and I struck up a conversation. Nick was interested in another girl at the time, so we talked about that and what he had been doing to try to get her attention. I remember sitting there in the theater thinking, This is a really great guy! Any girl would be lucky to go out with him. I also found out that he was interested in working at Solheim, the on-campus gym facility where I and several mutual guy friends worked. I told him I'd try to put in a good word for him, and get some of the other guys to vouch for him as well.

Working at Solheim after my senior year with Tori and Juwan Howard.

Nick working at Solheim/playing on his phone. ;)

Not long after, Nick got hired at Solheim and we started seeing more of each other. We got along well and became friends right away. And while I was busy being interested in someone else, he remained off my radar, though working together was always pleasant. We worked at Solheim together through my senior year, and at the start of the year, things began to change. One night a couple of friends were ridiculing me and to get away I decided to go find Nick. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew he was a good person to seek out if I was having a problem. And for me, that was the moment I realized I might like him as something more than a friend.

One of our first times hanging out with friends.

We started hanging out more, especially over Christmas and Spring break, when we stayed on campus to work. After closing time, we'd take long walks through the city or to the grocery store, or to Starbucks, where I got him hooked on delicious passion tea lemonades. In April, we decided to make it official and for the first time ever, I dated someone from school.

Our first date at the Hancock Tower.

Bowling with friends.

At the junior/senior banquet.

If you know Nick, you probably know about his past, which of course affected the present in our relationship. Being the not-so-understanding person I was, I was frustrated by the awkward and sometimes tense moments. I had a hard time seeing past my own insecurities of how people viewed me that I often was not very thoughtful of others. For some reason in my mind, I had built everything up so much and image was everything, whether mine or other's.

Thrift shopping in Chicago.

We dated for a month and by the end, I don't think things felt as natural for us. We were two people who were so different in so many ways and with the pressures of a relationship, I think that caused us to buckle. We also knew as the school year ended that our lives would be going in completely different directions. Later down the road we would each look back at our breakup and feel that we were individually to blame, that neither of us fought as hard as we should have and that we gave up too easily. I always thought it was my fault, that I bought the lies I had been sold by our culture and thus I was looking for something that wasn't real. And I know Nick always felt like it was his fault, but of course I disagreed.

Nick and Jordan during my senior year. I kept a
printed copy of this photo in a collage frame throughout
my time in Denver and after moving back to Iowa.

We parted ways as boyfriend and girlfriend, but still remained friends. It was a little tense at first. People love to talk and we were a source of gossip for a while among our friends. Then there were the guys who wanted Nick to tell me off and treat me like dirt because I had broken up with him. But of course Nick's true character showed through as he always treated me with kindness, despite what everyone said. Sure we had our moments of frustration, but they never lasted long.

At graduation with Megan, Rachel, and Heidi.

Nick got a cute new haircut, after we broke up. (Of course!)

The school year ended and we didn't see each other for three years. I stayed in Chicago for the summer before moving back to Iowa to save money and be near my family. The next year I moved to Colorado to be close to a guy I had started dating, but we broke up two months later. I stuck it out in Denver, telling myself I was supposed to be there, I could do it. It represented some of the best times in my life and some of the worst. I needed it to grow, to get past the silly, ungrounded person I had been in college and to truly become an adult. And that's exactly what happened [read more about that in this post], I made mistakes, I learned, and I grew. Throughout that time, Nick and I remained friends. Sometimes we'd talk a lot, texting and messaging on Facebook, and other times we'd talk only a little, an occasional phone call or life update. I always treasured our friendship, that we could be miles apart and still pick up where we left off.

Nick's graduation from Moody in 2009.

At a basketball game with Margaret after moving to Denver.

In 2011 I was back in Iowa, coming off a very needed intentional break from dating when Nick came out for a visit. We had been talking a lot more regularly over the past months and decided it would be good to see each other and spend time together in person. [Before Nick visited I wrote this, which was to him/about him, but I never told him until later.] It was really the best time. We had so much fun reminiscing and visiting different places around Clinton. Nick even helped me run junior high events for the first night of my church's sports camp outreach. And while it was a fun visit, it was also intentional, to see if maybe we could/should start dating again. At the end, I knew Nick wanted to get back together, but in my heart, I was finally, finally at peace with myself and my life, for maybe the first time ever. Because of that, I wasn't ready to start dating again. So I told Nick that now wasn't the time, and being his usual self, he accepted that with grace, kindness and understanding. And so we continued on as we had, friends keeping in touch across the miles.

Back in Iowa, celebrating my birthday.

Nick with his niece in 2011.

The final few lessons I needed to learn came close together at the beginning of 2012. Actually, they probably came hand-in-hand to show me what I finally needed to see to open my eyes to the truth about my life and relationships. First, I started dating again in January. And while my new relationship started out great, it began to take a downhill spiral very quickly. I was so confused about so many things going on that I reached out to Nick, just to ask him questions and get his insight. Was this normal? What did that mean? He had, after all, always been the person I turned to when I was experiencing difficulties. Second, I took a trip to visit my best girl friend and her husband in Dallas. That trip was like a light switch, finally fully illuminating a truth I had known for years, but never completely understood--why people always say "you should marry your best friend." Even I had said it, but it was more of a nebulous concept than a real life truth. During that visit, I finally got to see what it looked like with two of my dearest friends who were each other's best friends. And when I came home, all I knew was, I wanted that kind of marriage, and there was only one person in the world I'd have that with.

Visiting Jordan and Brandi in Dallas.

Nick with his niece again, around the time we started talking in 2012.

Thankfully things ended in the relationship I was in, though not as soon as it should have. I had the support of some great friends, including one of my best friends who was in town visiting the weekend we finally broke up. She was able to speak truth into my life and help me take the steps I knew I needed to. After that, Nick and I started talking more and I finally knew what I couldn't have known as a free-spirited college kid, that Nick was absolutely the right person for me. He was everything I would ever need in someone, even if I didn't know it. He was my best friend, the person who had always been there. And he had loved me the whole time, even in the moments when I was my worst self. He knew everything about me, but it never changed his opinion of me; he still saw me like Jesus does, whole, valued, purposeful, beautiful.

Hanging out in Times Square during my visit.

It took a little bit for us to finally talk about us--a relationship and a future--but when we did it was mostly thanks to the assistance of my best girl friend. Once we did, we never got off that track. I went out to visit Nick in June, and we finally made dating official for the second and last time. If Nick's trip to Iowa was good, my trip to visit him was a million times better. Everything felt so right, so natural, so easy. It wasn't forced or uncomfortable. We were ourselves and ourselves together. And that was when we knew we didn't want to be apart ever again, and the rest, my friends, is history [which you can read on the blog with our engagement and wedding stories]. :)

The day we got engaged at Wrigley Field in Chicago.