A Summer Story.

Summer slowly became autumn. Evidence was hard to find in our little beach town.

Many a season in life has passed without the writing of words.

But this time, I am surprised by the lack of script.

I have attempted to put into words this story of summer, but I always erase the drafts and quickly turn to burying myself in a different project.

I think it is fear, that maybe I won’t do justice to the story. What if I am unable to express adequately just how thankful I am, how much work the Lord has accomplished?

Regardless of what the reason is, I’m going to go back to the beginning to try to get this all out—no matter how imperfectly it may come—my hope is that someone, somewhere will find encouragement in the imperfect mess this story may bring. This mess is something to be enjoyed.

I have had many of my people confirm the growth or change in me. This season has been wildly filled with roots. The Lord has had full access to gardening my heart. Even those who only know me as the barefoot girl who sings on a Sunday morning, see a change. And that’s worth it all. All the pain that I experienced behind the scenes.

There’s a lighter load I have been carrying.

This is the story of summer.

I graduated in May. May 12th to be exact. My older brother and his family had surprised me by making the journey back home, and many loved friends and family celebrated the day with me.

It is important to note, my heart was shattered. I was in the middle of the kind of emotional pain where you think, “Dang, this is really going to kill me.” The day the breaking happened, I allowed myself to feel every emotion. I allowed myself to fall apart. I said words I would never say in public. I cried the ugly kind of crying. I was raw and honest. To fall apart on Jesus: He was the only reason I knew I could wake up the next day, and decide I would never return to the person I had become.

I had lost so much of my joy, buried deep, hidden underneath so much anxiety, insecurity, and untouched dreams. I had become someone I did not recognize. The only one to blame for my shift is myself. I took on roles that were not mine to hold.

I was not going to spend another day, hiding behind fear.

So fast forward back to the Friday of graduation, here I was, 26 years old and finally able to call myself a college graduate. I was finally able to put those fancy letters next to my name—BSW.

True story: the first time I realized I could officially call myself a Social Worker, I cried. It was a big accomplishment—personally—because I knew of the anxiety-ridden journey, it took for me to finally be able to finish—and finish confidently.

After graduating, I realized how big the world is, and how small I felt. I had no idea what was next. For the first time, in a long time, I could go. Go where? I have no idea. But I was solo. And my dreams were not dependent on someone else.

The next couple of weeks, were filled with encouraging conversations with the most wonderful humans. I talked heart talks with people I love and cherish about big dreams and ideas. I had options and opportunities open up that I never would have imagined before. I was offered an Internship overseas, I was given the opportunity to record music and pursue my dreams of recording pieces of my heart I had put to song, and I was offered a full-time position at an agency I had grown to love.

In the midst of so many changes and opportunities, my heart was enjoying the whirlwind of getting to know who the Lord created me to be.

There is a verse in Romans (15:13) that I have clung to for years. “Now may the God of HOPE (and this is hope that does not disappoint—Romans 5), fill you with ALL joy and peace IN BELIEVING, so that you may ABOUND in hope BY the power of the Holy Spirit.”

The Father God we serve is not an insecure Father. When we come to the Lord, with a heart positioned in worship, a heart that is believing that God is who he says He is—we offer praise. In return, we are filled with HOPE—we discover WHO we are. The Holy Spirit is such a good friend and counselor—and through this power and being rooted and established in Christ (Ephesians 3)—I have come to know the fullness of who Jesus is, without even realizing how much growth is actually taking place in the process.

Half way through the season, my best heart friend and I shared how far we had come in just a short while.

I was living. And not living in pieces, trying to please or earn love or acceptance from others. Just, living.

I had realized it was so long since I felt anxious or thought about “triggers”.

For so long, I had longed to be free. In order to be free, the Lord had to physically remove people, places and things that had literally altered the person I was meant to be and the person I was longing to be. And in this freedom, I realized for the first time how I had spent so many years doing half the work necessary to actually obtain the abundant life freely offered to us. I would reject the lies and insecurities with my mouth—all along believing them deep in my heart. When I traced the thoughts or insecurities to the root of the issue, I realized that I wasn’t only believing a falsity about myself—but I was believing a lie about who God is. Deep inside, I was believing false attributes and characteristics about the Lord. Is He really good? Is His love really unconditional? Do I really accept grace without having to work or earn it?

By gardening down to the roots—repentance, forgiveness, grace, tears, and truth followed so sweetly. Walking in freedom is not done by choosing to ignore the lies for a spare moment, but it’s accomplished by choosing to daily come before the Savior and letting Him define you and delight over you with song. In turn, the Lord is glorified when we believe Him for WHO HE IS.

I am so thankful for the moments the Lord gives us—moments that are fresh, awakening, and filling.

The joy is genuine. But, my heart has grieved much loss this summer. I have had to let go. Let go of so many things. Let go of certain plans I had. But this life is not mine. Jesus is my Home. I love Him more than words would ever begin to explain. And the ways in which He is evidently working and moving, is too cool. I’d gladly share stories until I am blue in the face with anyone who wants to meet me at Starbucks.

When the past came back unexpectedly, when I had my heart in shock over different paths to take, when I had to say goodbyes that left me in shambles, all I continue to believe and cling to in my heart is that God is good. Where He leads, I am willing to follow.

Summer was an adventure. It was bold and wildly free. I am so expectant about what is next.