All Posts by ‘whitney


waiting without purpose

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“What we hunger for perhaps more than anything else is to be known in our full humanness, and yet that is often just what we also fear more than anything else. It is important to tell at least from time to time the secret of who we truly and fully are—even if we tell it only to ourselves—because otherwise we run the risk of losing track of who we truly and fully are and little by little come to accept instead the highly edited version which we put forth in hope that the world will find it more acceptable than the real thing. It is important to tell our secrets too because it makes it easier that way to see where we have been in our lives and where we are going. It also makes it easier for other people to tell us a secret or two of their own, and exchanges like that have a lot to do with what being a family is all about and what being human is all about.” Frederick Buechner

Recently I feel like I have been bombarded by articles on the concept of waiting. You know the ones, people waiting for their dream job, families waiting for kids, women waiting for a man. That last one is a frequently used one, especially in the church, and over time you start to wonder if maybe we aren’t just slightly off the mark, but if we missed it entirely. Like, we have sailed way passed it as we wait for the big moment, the one that will tie up the story in a neat and tidy bow and make it all make sense.

The moments race through my head at a mile a minute. But they are small ones, not the giant moments that I can easily make up in the fantasy world in my head. Yesterday was a rough day and I can’t really explain why, but the fantasy world in my head wasn’t there to fall back on.

My long-standing pessimism is what I utilize to keep me out of magical, fantasy land. It is the little voice that reminds me that there is precedent to things, that reality isn’t make-believe and that when everyone else thinks random man a is interested, the answer is always no. My brain and my soul don’t like to match up. One weaves stories full of little moments and tiny hopes that create one wholehearted life. The other keeps my feet on the ground and my head out of the clouds, and in all honesty, that isn’t quite so bad either.

Pathetically enough, I manage to both love and loathe my life all at the same time. It feels like my sanity is being pulled in opposite directions, but sweet goodness, all I want is to catch a break. And then I remember how many I have actually had. The want to feel normal and like everyone else, but then again, why be normal when you can be as fun as a barrel of monkeys. Y’all it is super lame but I will own this (at least on paper), I don’t have time for a relationship and I’m actually pretty great in where my life is at the moment, but darn it all, can I at least have the option of being like, x person is interested and totally wants to go out. Is that asking too much? Apparently the answer to that is yes. And instead I am inundated with bad Christian articles about the sad, waiting women. Please God, I refuse to be that person.

I take a breath and I let myself sit in the brief sadness and annoyance, and then I remember the great moments. Because we should not ever be waiting, we should be remembering. And remembering doesn’t come with a requirement of it always being happy.

“Where we settle is where we die”

I recall to mind those words from a speaker at Urbana06 and think about how true that is. I think of the image that i recently read about the woman who stands at the gate waiting for her prince to come. Team, where we settle is where we die and ladies, do you want to die standing at a fence, alone. If I am going to be single, I better be living fully and jet-setting around the world with a camera, wearing crazy head scarves and flowy long skirts and…sorry, tangent…that’s my fantasy, moving on. No matter how much it hurts or how rough it is, and no matter how much you feel like you’re coming apart at the seams please please don’t settle.

Sometimes life feels like it is spiraling out of control. It’s a whirlwind and I can’t see the start of the end. But at the same time, it isn’t actually a terrifying problem. For so long it stemmed from a disjointed feeling of not being enough, and then one day it was something different. It hadn’t magically been made better, and the crazy feels didn’t disappear, but acceptance of reality and the goodness of a God who is in control takes away the power that fear of the unknown can hold over us. Remembering the truth and grace that has been given to us.

Wonderfully created and perfectly formed. Even in moments of quiet and prayerful reflection, we are not meant to just wait without purpose. And so it goes. Life isn’t all bad, it’s actually pretty wonderful and it can be a bit rocky all at the same time.

Here’s to the little moments that make up the big ones that make life so much more worth living. Without all the ups and downs, where would all the fun be. Here is to not waiting without purpose but remembering the little moments that make up the seemingly large ones. And even in the moments of annoyance, there will always, eventually, be a victory!


#darlingpancake | confidence and perception

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There are just some things that are so amazing and powerful that you just need to let them speak for themselves. But then, I’ve never been one to not get in a word.

My love of SoulPancake is pretty large. It’s hilarious, it provides great videos. And then they went and made the That’s What She Said series with Darling Magazine, which pretty much guaranteed my love. I mean, let’s talk about a crazy powerful series that makes you think. I started with the Beauty and Body Image conversation, for reasons that would shock no one that knows me well. Authentic women having authentic meaningful conversation.

But the one I love the most is about perception and confidence. It is so simple for people to look at the outer and have no idea what is going on inside. I hear a lot of comments about how I have it all together. Pull myself together and be perfect. It spins in my head like a mantra. I fight it and I know that it’s a lie, but how to know and how to move past it.

“Wait, you don’t think well of yourself.”

Little did I know that what had slipped out of my mouth would get me that response. Much do I know that truth always comes in the most unexpected places and wonderful people. But I grew up in a world where the presentation is perfect and failure is non-existent. Where arguments were loud discussions but we always went above and beyond for family, friends and neighbors. There will be time for boys and relationships after college, after you’ve built a career, when you don’t need the distraction. Above all, never ever weigh more then 130lbs. The stress weighs upon you. Some of it projected and some of it self-inflicted. But no matter what, it weighs you down.

You feel like there is no way to catch up, no way to be the best, no way to be the smartest, and definitely no way to be perfect. My home isn’t always tidy and lately I can’t respond to email to save my life. I am about as non-confrontational as they come and I feel insanely guilty when I don’t bend over backwards to accommodate everyone else. There will be time for relationships and the time is now, even if I am the largest hinderance in that department. But mostly, I weigh way more than 130lbs and on most days, that thought makes me want to curl up in a ball and never eat again. Once upon a time, that would have been my response. Because the pain and suffering of being a little hungry fades to a feeling of being numb, and when the goal is getting away from the millions of voices telling you that you aren’t enough (or your size is too much), numb always wins.

Public perception is never right and true. And confidence can wane. But we are better then that. I am better then that. So I repeat it over and over again.

I am enough. I am always enough.

It plays like a loop in my brain. When I can’t hear it anymore, I say it outloud. I sharpie it on my arm. When that fades (or accidentally transfers to my clean white sheets), I wonder if people would think I was nuts to permanently tattoo it on the inside of my wrist. Then I remember it doesn’t matter if they do. A reminder to take anywhere, at anytime and to anyone…enough. We have had enough of the ups and downs. I have had enough of meddlesome people who write insensitive articles and blog posts that do nothing to further goodness. So no, to some people I may not be enough and I may not be perfect. And you know what, I’m not perfect. Thank God. But I am enough.

My voice may not be louder, but it is greater, and it will be the last one standing. I may not be an amazing author, but there is power in words written in power and emotion.


You are allowed to be as you truly are
There is space for every person on the spectrum
We are dynamic if nothing else
Gorgeously ourselves
We are women of something greater
Speak and the universe will react
Align your actions with your intentions
And watch your life become breathtaking as sunset.
I DARE YOU! — Natalie Patterson

Processed with VSCOcam with b5 preset

the words to say.

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I always wish I had the perfect words to say. Mentally I always think it would be especially nice in the situations that really matter. You know the ones, the world-changing and life-saving conversations.

Oh, and maybe all the rest of the time too.

Alas, I am about the least confrontational person ever, which is a little weird because I also don’t really believe in sugar-coating things. So, there lies my counselor’s favorite issue of mine. We spent a lot of time on one issue, the oh so fun “when people are big, and God is small” [if you haven't read the book, you should].

But 2014, it’s a new year. And for some reason, it feels so much more solid then 2013, or 2012, or 2011, or….you get the picture, it was a real rough patch there. The part that bothered me the most probably wasn’t really the totally out of control feeling of life, it was that I didn’t feel like me and even when I did I managed to feel guilty about it. Which makes me wonder, how often do we put forward a half-hearted attempt of ourselves? Towing the middle of the road so not to offend.

I look ahead to establishing goals. I look ahead to establishing me. The fun, crazy, detail-orientated, kinda insane me. Because I love that me. I love that me that is crazy enough to tell the Madewell clerk that they are vanity sizing, because I sure as heck don’t believe that I’ve lost two pants sizes. I love the me that befriends every food vendor that I talk to. I love the me that consumes a lot of ice cream and an equally larger amount of Mexican Food. I love the me that cries at movies and laughs at every bad joke I hear. I love the me that actually has conversations that start, “no it wasn’t a date, it was just a friendly hangout!” and believes it wholeheartedly.

The simplicity of this thought isn’t anything of major note. It isn’t a life changing discovery and it won’t save the world from the injustices that occur with every second of every day. But it is good. It is the realization that God is ever moving, and ever moving me. That one season of life grows and develops you for the next season of life and that pattern will continue on for as long as I hope to breathe breath.

Me today, in essentials, isn’t much different than the me of yesterday. But the walls are being chipped away in the most unlikely places and in even more unlikely ways. It is the reminder that I am not in control, and by being okay with that, I allow myself to be moved. And while it can be terrifying to not know what is next, I do know that no matter what, it will be worth it.

The fear was then. Real life is now.


it’s okay, I have slutty hair

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“Worldly is that which is sensual, that which stimulates, titillates or inflames the flesh. This includes many dating activities such as kissing, touching (forerunners to sex), petting (sex with your clothes on), or dancing (sex with your clothes on standing up). It also includes how you dress. Certain dress and hairstyles are sensual because they make a sexual statement and stimulate the flesh. Christian young ladies need to understand that certain sensual dress and frizzy hairstyles say to a boy, “Try me, I might. ” They are a subtle offer of sex. That is what makes them popular and exciting, isn’t it?”

You guys, I have slutty hair. Words I never thought I would speak. I mean obviously I must think then all the time, cause when you have slutty hair, what else can you think.

The above came to me third hand, a friend of a friend has a mom that writes a uber-conservative mom blog. It is full of stories about not letting your kids date, how they shouldn’t be alone with their significant others before they wed, and other things that make me cringe. This however was the best statement. I mean, you guys, if this is true I may need to reconsider aspects of my life.

First, I dance.

I dance a lot. I love taking class. My life was ballet from a young age through my early 20s. Now it’s all sorts of stuff: jazz, lyrical, contemporary, pop, belly dance, jazz burlesque (Yeah, take a moment and digest that last one). And let me tell you, me in my t-shirt and yoga pants, I am just leading people astray left and right. At no point when dancing, do I think I am having sex standing up fully clothed. I mean first, cause it’s just me in a class full of people and second, that would be totally awkward and totally not PG at all. Sometimes, when going out dancing there are other people, and in my world those are church people. If dancing was having sex, standing up, fully clothed, do you know how awkward it would be to pass the peace on Sunday. “The peace of the Lord be with you, also sorry if we had fully clothed sex on a dance floor last night.” Yeah, no. I don’t deny that some people get a little out of hand on a dance floor, and I really don’t deny that actual sex probably happens on dance floors. But that isn’t the norm, it’s the exception.

Second, frizzy hair.

I’m going to be honest, I wish my hair said, “try me, I might.” I would get way more dates if that was the case. I mean, it would be amazing! That invitation may be all come hither, but the key to “try me, I might” is that it can also include, “I might shut you down” and  in my world, clearly I’m shutting you down. Pretty much I love it so. I have come hither hair! How can that be bad?

But mostly, I just laugh at our fascination with these things, especially in the church. Because I, according to the conservative set somewhere in America, am one step away from being the loose women of the night that I studied in college. No it wasn’t a training course, just the history of Europe. My hair does a decent come hither and my dancing is setting me up for a fall. Neither of those are even close to the truth. I feel most at peace when I am in dance. And well, the hair I can’t do anything about, it just grows that way. I mean, I could spend a lot of money to change it, but that just isn’t in the budget because, well, I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I work for a non-profit dance studio.

Funny how that works out.


death, taxes and being single

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“You got: Destined To Be Single: Take a deep breath, but don’t worry. Some things in life are certain: Death, taxes, and you being single. You were single when you emerged from your mother’s womb and entered this world and there is a very good chance you might die single. But you don’t let it get you down!”


Oh Buzzfeed. I thought you were my friend. I mean you are always there for me when I want to procrastinate with a photo list of 80 things great about Benedict Cumberbatch. Recently you told me that I either should be with Christopher or Logan from Gilmore Girls. That I should get a tiny tattoo and the PLL character I am most like is Spencer. I mean, we were doing well together, you get me. And then, this.

Was it really necessary to put “Death, taxes, and [my] being single” into one sentence. I think not. Uncool, Buzzfeed. Uncool.

But for real and slight joking aside, I was recently astounded when I saw that a memoir had been published by Katie Heaney, a woman who has spent the first 25 years of her life single. And by single I mean, zero dates single. I was stunned that clearly this was a topic odd enough that it got a book deal, then I was like, where the heck is my deal. I have spent 28 years understanding that when, at age 12, I announced I wanted to be a nun like the Reverend Mother on Sound of Music and the cute tiny one with the big voice on Sister Act, I didn’t actually mean it. I take it back. I mean, I’m not even Catholic. This isn’t working for me.

We focus so much on one aspect of life. People talk about their singleness as something that could lead to a life of unhappiness. There is so much more to worry about than that. Let’s be honest, while it would be lovely to have a permanent partner in crime who rolls their eyes at all of my crazy, it also is somewhat nice to have a giant bed all to myself.

Buzzfeed, you freaked me out for a hot second. You made me think what if. And then I remembered, I have thought what if a hundred times before about a hundred different things. No matter the what and no matter the if the answer is always the same, I will be living a full and fantastic life. My wholeness is not based on the thoughts and ideas of others and it sure as all get out isn’t based on my relationship status. It is about living whole lives, about connection and community, it is about faith in something that is bigger then me. It is knowing that my life is one small nugget in a bigger story. Because then, I know that I am enough. I know that the answer to what if questions are simple and over-thinking is overkill.

So, Buzzfeed, you can take your quiz and shove it. And death, taxes and my singleness aside, I’m going to have an awesome time living an amazingly whole and fulfilling and faith filled life.


daring greatly.

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“It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,

because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;

but who does actually strive to do the deeds;
who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions;
who spends himself in a worthy cause;

who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly,

so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls
who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Theodore Roosevelt
“Citizenship In A Republic”
A speech at the Sorbonne
23 April, 1910


when you can’t.

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Today I lost it.

You know, that magical “it”…the one when you’ve been holding everything together and the straw falls and it breaks the camel’s back…oh yeah, and it came crashing down. In public.

It was a single question.

Honestly, it was a single response, too.

“Look two years into the future, tell me where you would see yourself in an ideal world?”

It wasn’t a crazy question. It especially wasn’t crazy since for the previous thirty minutes I had been rambling about being unhappy in my 9-5, wanting to do something different, having too many ideas, cold emailing people I find inspirational, loving photography, hating photography, loving events, hating events, wanting to inspire. You get the general picture. So after rambles and a lot of false starts and even more lines of “I have so many ideas and so many things I want to do and i don’t know what’s holding me back,” the question wasn’t insane. My response however, was a bit off kilter for me.

I took a deep breath. I stared everywhere but at her. And I did a lot of “I don’t know.” I was being cagey and I knew it.

This, however, isn’t a girl I can flub off. And she waited for my answer and compassion was there. And it broke down a wall, and my broken soul began to weep even before my eyes flooded with tears.

“This is going to sound ridiculous…I know it’s not, but for me…this is absurd”

That’s how I finally started.

And then, in the midst of unshed tears and a flood of emotions, came the line:

“I wanted to be done having babies by 30, and by the rate of I’m going, that isn’t happening.”

She put her hand on my knee, had a look that said “I know” and my eyes caught up with my soul. I don’t think it was a shocking statement. I think we both knew where my mind had gone, but intentional or not on her part, I think we had to know that I could say it outloud. I burst. And into my mind came flooding everything that doesn’t seem to be for my future.

Because when I see my ideal future, it involves living near the water, my family…husband, babies, it is me being more of a mama bear then I already am at times, it’s photography, it’s travel, it’s fighting for people’s creative souls, it is inspiring people that life is more then work and home. It is, in the words of Brene Brown, living Wholehearted…it is Daring Greatly. Living a big life, helping people into the light, and sitting beside them when they don’t have strength to leave the darkness.

And yes, I know I can do this with or without a spouse and kids, but the “ideal” in my head, is in fact not my reality. The realization comes that this could be a solo journey through life.

Thoughts fly through my head, that I’m ashamed to even admit to. Moments of loathing who I am, times where I want to tell people how much it really does suck to be a biracial child in progressive America. To say that being different may be cool and awesome, but with this awesome permanent tan comes a lot of baggage. We live in a world where vaguely racist humor is funny, but how many times can you hear the line, “oh i’m friends with Whitney, it’s fine,” before it’s no longer fine. Feeling slightly on the outs, never fully connecting, being the diverse one in the group. And all this comes before you even get me started on studies that show that people are more likely to date and/or marry someone who that share similar physical commonality. I mean if that’s what I’ve got going for me then I’m screwed, says Whitney as she rolls her eyes and laughs.

Feelings of connectedness.

That has clearly been the theme of my year. Wondering if where I am is where I’m supposed to be. Struggling to believe that there is more. Knowing that God is good and wants good things for the glory of His kingdom, but feeling unable to be apart of that plan. The feelings of disconnectedness and and wondering when it became the norm to “go at it alone.” Praying for clarity. Lacking a unified vision. Casting aside a fear of man. Having hyperawareness come rushing back, but embracing it unlike in the past. 

But that doesn’t change the moment. And it doesn’t change the hurt.

It doesn’t stop that moment as i’m falling asleep at night and I wonder what it would be like if there was a spouse. Would I be the cover-stealer, the sleeper in the middle of the bed? What would it be like? It doesn’t change the fact that forty-five seconds later I tell myself to not think or dream about such things. I wander into the thought that ten years from now, I could very well be in the same space, wondering the same things and what would I have accomplished with my life.

I try to ignore the thoughts that come from the work that comes from amazing husband/wife photographers, husband/wife writers, women who have beautiful creative and life giving jobs who are encouraged by their husbands daily, the women who still have to work but are constantly being affirmed by their spouse in regards to their dreams and creative thoughts.

These are the thoughts that I work through. As life goes on, I listen for the whisper that tells me to trust. That reminds me that this life is about grace and not perfection. To know that my plan, isn’t His plan. To know that I am created to be more, more then I ever imagined.

Because I can affect change.

Because I will do great work for the glory of God.

Because my ideal future, may not be.

Because when the darkness overcomes, I shall not be moved.

Because vulnerability is authenticity.

Because just me, includes a big God.

And because that is enough.


“Vulnerability begets vulnerability; courage is contagious” — Brene Brown, Daring Greatly



boldly to grace.

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You can always go forward, but you can never go backwards…

Three years have passed and the above is the line that comes to my mind daily these days. May began in the lovely spring way it always done, and it ended in the way that has become common place over the past three years, in a place of remembrance. A posture of humility and sadness. Lots and lots of tears.

We miss people no less at the end of year three then we do at the end of day three. In the beginning I spent a lot of time wondering why, why does death happen when we’re young? Now the question of what next often lingers in my mind. What is the next lesson, what will next be taken away, what am I supposed to learn from this?

I realized very quickly that this wasn’t something I could fix with my Mary Poppins bag of tricks. It took longer to know that no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t make the pain go away. And in this moment, a whisper swept over me and it spoke so softly, “just feel it.” My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Picking them up seemed impossible, and when I tried, it was a recipe for disaster.

I tried hard to make it all work. And there in lay the problem. I tried. Me.

Realization #45005: I can’t make life come together in any neat and tidy sort of fashion. That is out of my hands, beyond my control and it’s wonderful.

In complete and utter honesty, I knew that I couldn’t stop the pain and the sadness and it overwhelmed me. So I decided to do the next best thing and channel all of my feelings into one deeply satisfying, soul crushing emotion. I decided I could just hate the living people who made me feel like a failure. I couldn’t hate Kathleen, for leaving me…but that wasn’t the case for someone else.

A constant visual reminder of what I considered a failing. I couldn’t maintain a friendship. I couldn’t hold it together. I wasn’t nice enough. I wasn’t helpful enough. I didn’t give enough.

I wasn’t enough.

It echoed in my mind. I needed to be perfect. I forgot that it isn’t about perfection, it is about progress and grace. I forgot that somethings don’t live on forever. I forgot that hatred is a secondary emotion that is born from fear. Fear of many things, but mostly, a fear of vulnerability. And living a vulnerable life is often times more then we can handle. The fantasy world in my head, oh heavens, it is so much easier than the unknowns of life.

I want to hate him, and I know why. A wall around me to keep the feelings in and the hurt out. I want to hate someone because I don’t want to care, I don’t want to be affected, and I definitely don’t want to be judged for something completely normal.

The best part, this isn’t the story of a sad girl who can’t find a boy to love her. This isn’t twenty years of unrequited feelings. It it all a normal emotional response to caring, it is a story of loss and the blessing of redemption. There is something about owning your feelings, your reactions, that is powerful. It provides a place of truth, a safe harbor in a storm. It is about trusting myself, about trusting my feelings and not second-guessing them to be incorrect or untrue.

Grace and not perfection is the place where we should rest.

Kathleen was always laughing, wondering what the next big and great thing would be. As I look to the remainder of the year, I find myself wondering how to carry her legacy to the world. She believed in me when I was at a place where I didn’t even want to leave my apartment. She validated my love of photography and challenged me when I went off the rails. What does it look like to carry on the legacy of a departed friend?

It looks like a life of love, peace, joy, hope and thankfulness. A life where grace and mercy are freely received and freely given.

So it looks like late evening dance rehearsals and singing in the car. Booking photography sessions and having coffee with those who inspire me. It is dancing in the rain just because I can and not being afraid to get a little wet. Staring up into the sky and rejoicing in blue skies and puffy clouds. Choosing forgiveness. Embracing the beauty of the unseen. Enjoying bright colors and flowers and sunshine. It is finding a quiet place and loving the chaotic times. It is having the will to carry on in the face of sorrow and anxiety. It is smiles and family. It is stillness and love. Clarity and vision. Spontaneity and silliness. Living life joyfully. Knowing what I’m worth and striving for good things.

My dear Kathleen, my darling friend, thank you for living fully and daring greatly.

When shadows fall on us
We will not fear
We will remember
When darkness falls on us
We will not fear
We will remember
“Shadows” — David Crowder Band


today I said enough.

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Over the past month and a half, I have been reminded of a huge, giant lesson that I clearly knew but had decided wasn’t for me just for those other people who don’t have it all together. In the span of a month I dealt with a job rejection, illness, tragedy blowing up around me, my work load being quadrupled and to round it all out, my happy outlet was planning a 700 person Easter Vigil…I mean, have I forgotten the word rest. And then it happened, finally the dust settled and everything finished up and there was just one giant feeling.


For a month that feeling hadn’t really been present, but when the silence hit, it came crashing down around my ears. And then there was just one thought.

I can’t do this anymore.

If there is any feeling that makes the anxiety become a feeling of suffocation, it’s the feeling when a perfectionist loses control. Every terrifying thought ran though my mind. I would never leave my awful job. I would end up a bitter, spinster secretary. Why did, at the age of 15, I say that I never wanted to change my name…ohmygoshdidijinxmyself.  Fear, trembling, loathing, defeat, brokenness. And then there was a whisper.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

From the most likely of places, i.e. my counseling session, came the whisper. I was challenged to look at the past month not as the worst month ever, but as the month that has led to the greatest change. Because as a perfectionist, with a need to please everyone one around me…apparently the only way I learn to let go is falling flat on my face. I took a breath and looked back at my “what do you want to make happen” list from MTH2013 and realized that while it included a lot of tangible things (e.g.   having a successful business), it mostly included a lot of feelings…letting go of the fears that hold be back, to always being dancing and singing, to feel led 110% by God, to never stop dreaming, but mostly (and the last thing on my list) to be happy. Somewhere I have remembered the truth. And then the realization hit.

“God saw the people of Israel—and God knew.”

For in my weakness, when I have no idea what is going on and I don’t have the energy to move an inch, in that place growth begins. When I am incapable of coherency and find myself weeping into my pillow, it is there that life happens. When I panic in fear and am blinded by my shortcomings, it is there that I am led.

So today I said enough. Today I said that I wouldn’t continue on in the pattern of insanity that I have allowed to be the label on my life. Today I said I don’t have it all together and that is okay; but mostly, today I realized that in my weakness, as I lie prostrate on the ground, it is there that I am to remain and it is there where I will flourish on the path that has been set out before me.

1. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10
2. Exodus 2:25