Courage, Dear One.

You know what’s scary? Change. Now. Sometimes I like and invite change because I'm one who bores easily. But those changes are ones I can control and are normally pretty small or something to divert my attention. Like most people in the universe I need time to transition. But life doesn’t always give you time to do that.

I had no time to transition when I felt the impact at the back of my car and crashed into the sign I was suddenly careening towards. Car accidents offer no transition other than the ride to the hospital.

Not every life changing event happened at 45 mph, some happened over the course of 11 months as I planned our wedding. As much as I wanted to get married I felt myself digging in my heels, hoping that time would slow down. In the end I walked away, not only a wife, but full of memories I’ll cherish forever. Like the barn doors sliding open as I stood, waiting for my groom, arm and arm with my dad. That one’s my favorite from the day. And it only took about a year to plan.

There was a lot of coming and going in 2015. Packing and moving and leaving and crying and goodbyes. Some goodbyes were short lived, and some will last a lifetime. But there were also hellos. New ones and old ones and salvaged ones. Some lasted for only a second and others were practiced weekly.

Dreams were had. Streets were walked. Skies were flown. Seasons came and went and a year went by. Big (and sometimes scary) things happened in 2015. But I know bigger (and sometimes scary) things are yet to come. Things scarier than wedding dates and job offers. And I guess they don’t have to be scary. Instead they can be grand and beautiful.

I knew a year ago that I had a choice. I could choose fear or simply think of 2015 as an adventure. I longed to stick to the adventure but fear crept in, as it does so often in life. But it’s when fear is overcome that character is deepened and courage is gained.

I’m not sure how much courage I gained over the past year. It may have been little and it may have been much but I do know one thing; this adventure isn’t over yet. In fact. It’s only just begun.

I'm so sorry, Mr. President.

"...our thoughts and prayers are not enough. It's not enough."- President Obama

I'm sorry. 

If I truly believe that Jesus is my all and everything and that he is who he says he is then I must disagree, Mr. President. Just because you have given up hope, doesn’t mean I have to. It doesn’t mean we have to. Terrible, terrible things happen every day to people. But I don’t have to give into hopelessness. My soul is with hope because I gained hope. I showed a crowd of witnesses when I came back up from the water that my life is with hope.

I’m sorry you’re so hopeless Mr. President. I’m so sorry that you’ve given up hope that a great God works ugly things for our good and his glory. I’m sorry. You were appointed to lead us. So lead us to hope.

Don’t let death win. Death loses. Death dies, Mr. President. Don’t worry. These trials and tribulations here on earth hurt and drain and are terrifying. Sometimes life just sucks and it feels like our hearts will ache for ages. But don’t let that win.

Be courageous. Be brave! Hope again. Hope in the Lord. We have nothing else. We can’t win these battles, both unseen and in our face, without Him. We’ll lose.

Lead this nation to hope again, Mr. President. I know it’s scary, but He’ll come through. Even in the darkest of times. Hope will shine through. 

Constipated Much?

I’m five days constipated. Too much information? You should read some of the articles I’ve been reading to help with my flow problem, now that’s too much information. Anyways, here I am, day five into constipation, learning what it really means to count my blessings.

It started at camp on Tuesday. (Well, it actually stopped on Sunday, but you get my drift.) On Tuesday I noticed that this wasn’t a normal catch in my schedule. My bowels run a pretty tight ship, so when something goes off course I notice. I tell some people at camp and they give me Miralax and one of the girls runs into town (which takes about 20 some minutes) to get me apple juice. Nothing. Now I’m in pain, waddling to the toilet at almost every cramp. I wake up every 2 hours that night to have a less that satisfying trip to the bathroom and decide in the morning to go into town to statcare.

As I’m driving into town I’m praying for healing. But then my heart hits a wall. I miss my friends. I miss my fiancé. I miss my mom. I feel alone. My prayers are no longer focused on how uncomfortable I am. I just want to know I’m not alone. I just want my Heavenly Father to whisper, “Molly. I’m here. I’m with you. And I’ll never leave you.”

That was Wednesday, this is Thursday and I’m still backed up. My camp director let me go home; home to my comfortable bed, loving parents and my own bathroom. As my mom cooked dinner the radio was playing and I heard them talking about the hardship in Syria. Then an ad came on about the lack of Bibles throughout Africa. And then I thought, “I am so grateful that I’m only constipated.” With a new perspective I prayed for the people in Syria and my mind was brought back to just how grateful I am for the people I have in my life.

I have a mom that takes care of me, a workplace that wants what’s best for me, and friends that pray for my butt. My life is blessed. My cup overflows with goodness from the Lord, allowing me to see how faithful he is. He’s not just faithful to me, but to the suffering in Syria as well. Circumstance doesn’t define his character because HE IS. He simply IS. And he cares for me and my troubles just as he cares for yours and those less fortunate. That’s who he is.

So take a moment, let your perspective change from one of constipation to gratefulness and praise. Give thanks for the people in your life and lift up praise because we have a God who simply IS.