When "Thoughts and Prayers" Aren't Enough

“My thoughts and prayers are with the victims.”
“I’m praying for you.”
“You’re in my prayers.”
“My heart goes out to the families of the victims.”

In times of tragedy, whether personal, community or greater, we always hear the same responses. Every. Single. Time.

I’m guilty. I’ve said them. I’ve said them because I truly believe there is power in prayer. I truly believe that God can and will continue to work through prayer. I have seen it in my own life and I have seen it in the lives of the ones I love. And maybe it’s just me, but there have been times where I have told someone I was going to be praying for them, had really good intentions to, and then just got busy with my own stuff. I forgot. I pushed it aside. So my good intentions, my “thoughts and prayers” were just something I could say to make myself feel better. Instead of sending my thoughts and prayers, recently I’ve tried to become more intentional when people I love are experiencing tragedy. “I’m praying for you” becomes “How can I pray for you right now, right here?” and “What can I do?” Sometimes the answer is that there is nothing I can do. But most of the time, just being there, sitting and walking through grief with someone means so much more than hearing the words “I’m praying for you.”

The intention is to stay present. The goal is to act. I’m grieved by another senseless tragedy. My heart is broken past the point of anger. I’m tired of all of this. I’m tired of saying “enough is enough” with these mass shootings. I’m tired of all of it. The last few days I’ve been thinking about what it means to stay present and act. And honestly, I can’t come up with a solution.

One side says it’s a gun problem.

The other side says it’s a mental health problem.

Neither side can get along with the other because neither side will fully listen. In my first class of grad school, we learned about finding common ground and listening to understand. The goal of common ground isn’t to necessarily change the other person’s opinion or even to find a solution, but to fully listen to what they are saying without arguing. Each side gets a chance to share their opinion and repeat back to the other person what they hear. In doing this, communication can happen in a way that honors and values opinions other than our own. Maybe we need to practice some common ground techniques with each other to jump into action. We need to hear each side to understand where everyone is coming from.

I don’t know what the solution is. And honestly, it’s driving me crazy that I can’t figure it out. I can’t figure out what needs to happen. But I know something needs to happen.
I don’t think we can fully blame this problem on guns or mental health. I don’t know if I would ever personally own a gun, but I respect the right to bear arms. However, this right to bear arms needs to be reformed and have greater restrictions. Not all gun owners are murderers. In fact, most of them probably aren’t. But realistically, would stricter gun laws put an end to the frequency of these mass shootings? Just like drugs, even if something is illegal and harder to get, the wrong people will always find a way to obtain it if they really want it.

At the same time, completely focusing on mental health increases the already too frequent stigma surrounding mental health and mental illness. This is an area dear to my heart, as I fight to abolish this stigma. So, every time something like this happens, mental health gets brought up again and I cringe. It’s a never-ending cycle. Yes, we do have a mental health crisis, and yes, I would say that every person who commits a mass shooting is experiencing some form of mental illness. However, not everyone who experiences mental illness is a mass murderer.

In my opinion, it’s a heart problem, a gun problem and a mental health problem. Still, I don’t have a solution. But I want to keep this conversation active. I want to talk about this. I want to help prevent another school shooting where 14 high school students and 3 staff members die because we are arguing about guns and mental health. It’s time to get over ourselves and listen to one another to understand. It goes beyond this argument and into life as we care for and love one another. Disagreement is inevitable. So when we disagree, it’s time we tell ourselves to stop and listen. Not to change our mind. Not to change the other person’s mind. But to understand one another and to love one another by validating their opinion.

Last night, I babysat two of my favorite littles. I put them to bed and went back upstairs to clean up our mess. I sat down to watch the Olympics and I could hear the four year old talking to herself. I had told her I would come check on her like I always tell her. And if I’m honest, sometimes it doesn’t happen. She either falls asleep before I get down there or her parents come home. After a minute or two of her talking, and talking to me through the monitor I decided I would go back down and cuddle her. It’s what she needed. It was different than normal but I recognized a need and I decided to be present and intentional. I decided to stay present and act. And the whole time I was talking to her, singing to her and cuddling her, I was thinking about what I can do to make sure she is safe at school. I still don’t have the answer, but I want to have the conversation. I want to take action to prevent this from happening again.

I encourage you to read the names of the victims. Even better (but harder) I encourage you to read their stories. I hope it motivates you to stay present, be intentional and act. We can’t forget them. We can’t push it aside and move on. We can’t only keep them in our thoughts and prayers. Pray for God to guide you in action for change. Stay present. Be intentional. Act.

Aaron Feis, 37
Alyssa Alhadeff, 14
Scott Beigel, 35
Martin Duque Anguiano, 14
Nicholas Dworet, 17
Jaime Guttenberg, 14
Christopher Hixon, 49
Luke Hoyer, 15
Cara Loughran, 14
Gina Montalto, 14
Joaquin Oliver, 17
Alaina Petty, 14
Meadow Pollack, 18
Helena Ramsay, 17
Alexander Schachter, 14
Carmen Schentrup, 16
Peter Wang, 15

My prayer (and I’m really praying it right now) is that you are inspired and encouraged to act. And if, like me, you don’t know where to start, I pray you would join the conversation. I pray you would listen to understand those who think differently than you. And I pray you will never forget to be present in the lives of your hurting friends and family. Stay present. Be intentional. Act.

As always, love fiercely and love boldly.

We All Have Those Days

It's taken me almost two weeks to write a post I've been planning for a month. Maybe it's because of the vulnerability of it. Maybe it's because I've been busy. Maybe it's because in the midst of going back to school, stepping down from a position and starting a new one, and just the craziness that family and life brings, I haven't put enough effort into my writing. Whatever it is, it's an excuse. I hate excuses. So I'm leaving the excuses behind, getting over my fear of being vulnerable and writing.

"December 7, 1941, a date which will live in infamy." 1941 was 49 years before I was born, but if we think about it, we all have those days which will live in infamy in our lives.

July 5th is a day which will live in infamy for me.

Let's go back in time to Thursday, July 4th, 2002. I was riding up to my grandparents' house for our normal festivities. My mom was driving, and my brother and dad were either already up there or coming up later. I don't even remember if my sister's were there, but I think some of my cousins were at least. As we were driving, my mom told me that Mama Rose had been diagnosed with lung cancer. She said that on Friday she was going to be going to the doctor for some tests and a treatment plan. I was scared, but honestly not too phased. I knew people died from cancer. But I also knew people are healed from cancer. We got there, played in the water, watched the fireworks over the lake, and started a campfire for smores. My grandma was extra tired that night, so she headed to bed earlier than the rest of us. You can probably see where this is going. My grandpa is not the quietest of men. Bless his heart, he tries. But when you can't hear well, it's hard to be quiet. I woke up at around 3AM to him running up the stairs to my mom and I (my dad and brother had to be back in Hoquiam for something so they weren't there) and frantic, loud whispers. "Connie, Mom is bleeding. You need to call 911." My mom did CPR on my grandma while on the phone with 911, and I went out to meet the paramedics at the end of the driveway, which seemed to take an eternity. Despite all efforts, my Mama Rose died on the morning of July 5, 2002.

Let's fast-forward 14 years. I am 26 years old, in a relationship, and planning to get married. I go to bed on the night of July 4th thinking that I'm worthless. Thinking that nothing I can do is good enough, yet knowing what needs to be done. On the morning of July 5th, I broke up with my boyfriend. I broke up with him because things weren't working. I couldn't have an opinion if it was different than his, I couldn't speak my mind, and I couldn't talk things out instead of just getting argued with, yelled at and hung up on. If you've ever felt like this, you know how hard it is to get out of it. You think that you'll never find anybody because you're not good enough for anybody else. You feel inferior. I will give him credit for not being intentional about this. He always told me he was a better friend than he was a boyfriend. And I believe him. He was looking for Perfection and I couldn't give him that. No one can. To say the least, I felt a lot of things that day. I felt like I didn't know what I was going to do, I felt scared, I felt relieved, and I was searching for light and searching for hope. And then I found it. Just when I was getting ready to leave everything that I loved for this man that I loved, I gave him up because I knew it was right. So I found this job, and I applied for it. Weeks went by, and I got a letter that said they had hired somebody else. I given it to God, but felt in my heart that I was the right person for that job. So it's hard. But it was just God telling me that it wasn't the time. He was telling me that I wasn't ready. I couldn't mentally and physically succeed at that job while still grieving the loss of a relationship.

July 5th, 2002 and July 5th, 2016 are both days that will live in infamy for me. Both of these days represent sadness. Both of these days represent loss. Both of these days I met with grieving and pain. But both of these days also bring me hope. They bring me joy. And they give me a story that will inspire and encourage others.

A lot of people remember the day that they were saved. The exact day. I don't know if I just don't pay enough attention, or if I'm a bad Christian. But, I don't remember a day. I remember events that led up to my salvation. And the day my grandma died is one of them. I have been going to church my entire life. I grew up in what I like to call a Christian-inspired home. We went to church on Easter and Christmas. We had a prayer that we said at dinner time, we had our Bibles, and we had those Alice Bible story books. And I think my brother had some of the boy version of the Bible story books. But we didn't live it all the time. When my brother got into high school, he started to go to youth group and young life. That's where I met Jeremy and April. I love them, and I could not wait to be in high school so that they could be my leaders. But my brother going to youth group and Young Life didn't inspire me to go to church. I would go to church with my friend Sonja, because her dad was the pastor. I would go to church when I went to visit my Grandma Barb. But I did not claim my faith as my own, and I didn't live my faith out. I didn't serve Jesus, and I loved him but I didn't show it. When my grandma died, I realized how short life is. How precious life is. How life can be taken in the blink of an eye, and we are never really prepared. In seventh grade, less than a year after my grandma died, my best friend's mom passed away of cancer. I had spent so much time at her house, that she was like another mom to me. And I loved her like one. As I thought about my grandma's death and my best friend's mom's death, life hit me hard. I realized that with the briefness of life on Earth, I can't live for myself. I needed something to live for. And I can't tell you how many times I had accepted the message when Jan preached it to me, or when Pastor Kent preached it to me, but it was now my own. I needed to start living for Jesus.

God always uses pain for good. After the flood, He gave a rainbow. After the crucifixion, He gave us The Resurrected Christ who promises us Eternal Life. After Mama Rose and Lisa passed away, He brought me into that Eternal Life. After my relationship ended, he gave me more hope, wisdom and direction. It has taken a while. It has been messy, and I was in a bad place for a while. But I wouldn't admit it to most people. I was too proud. Pride is a tricky thing. It's easy to have, and it's not easy to give up.

A year after the death of this relationship, on July 5th, 2017, I felt a flood of emotion. I remembered my grandma, and I remembered where I had hoped to be by that time. I got home from Charlie's, after not staying for fireworks, and started the process of going to bed. I also evaluated my heart. Where was I? How was I doing? It's important to evaluate your heart every now and then. Really, I should evaluate my heart everyday. I should, but I don't always. That night, as I began my evaluation, I realized what God had done in a year. I'm a completely different person. I have more confidence. More confidence in myself, more confidence in my ability, and we're confidence in my worth. I know I am worthy. Jesus died for me. He didn't have to, but He loved me enough to die for me. He thinks that I am worth something. He thinks that I am worth dying for. I have stuck up for myself this year. I have professed my ideas and my beliefs. I have made amazing friends, and also chosen to let some friends go. I realize that the people who really care will make an effort. And, that it's better to have fewer good friends than many acquaintances. I have made decisions for me. This is always hard for me. It goes back to that confidence and worth. But I know that I need to do things that are good for me. It's not out of selfishness, but it's out of self-love. Because I cannot be loved if I don't love myself. And let me tell you, I've learned to love myself better this year. I've learned to care for myself better this year. Just because I've learned it doesn't mean that I've always done it though. But I'm still growing there. I hired a personal trainer, I started to pursue my dream of planning weddings, I began to explore the place that I love the most and spend time with Jesus hiking. I decided to go back to school. I bought a new car. I made a hard decision to leave the kids and families that I love at the childcare to be with Charlie all summer, and make people's dream weddings a reality at my newest position.

Y'all, this last year has been a mess. It's been a Beautiful Mess. They were things that were hard. There were things that were really hard. And there are still things going on in my family and my life that make me want Jesus to come back so badly. But if I've learned anything this year, I know that Jesus created me to be an overcomer. He created me to learn through trials. He created to lean on him. He created me to show me how my story intertwines with His. And he is going to use that story to encourage and inspire others and bring people into His Glory. If I look back at my life, I wouldn't be where I'm at right now without July 5th, 2002 and 2016. I wouldn't have the faith I have. I wouldn't have the strength and confidence I have. So in the Beautiful Mess of hard stuff, I'm thankful for my God who sustains, protects and loves me.

Here's my encouragement to you:

1. Take a risk and do something that makes you happy.
2. Lean in to Jesus. Every. Single. Day.
3. Be you. Be proud of who you are. Don't be ashamed of who God made you to be. Don't be ashamed of your quirks. God gave them all to you. Embrace yourself.
4. "Spur one another on toward love and good deeds." Hebrews 10:24 is my daily reminder to be encourage my brothers and sisters in Christ, and to shine for Jesus through my life.
5. "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Eleanor Roosevelt nails this one. Seriously. If you are in a friendship or a relationship where you feel inferior, it is not normal. Love yourself enough to recognize that something needs to change. Love the other person enough to tell them how they make you feel. Talk to someone. I'm always here for you.
6. As always, love fiercely and love boldly.

Breakups, Heartbreak and My God in the Midst

This is about to be really real. It's about to be really raw. And it's about to be really emotional. Partly because it's 3 in the morning when I'm starting this and partly because breaking up is hard.

I'm a feeler. My parents are both feelers. My grandpa is a feeler. I had no hope to not feel. I feel deeply. And I wear my heart on my sleeve. So as I went to bed on the 4th, I could sense the breakup coming. And I could feel the push from God saying that it is time. I didn't want to. Not one part of me wanted to end things with the man I deeply love. In fact, my initial and honest response wanted to be disobedience. I went to bed thinking we were broken up and woke up with a message saying that we were still together. It wasn't all pretty after that. In fact, it was pretty ugly. I think breaking up is probably one of the worst things ever. But I also think that, when you're really in love with someone,but you know that you need to part ways, or you know you aren't the best for that other person or you just know something isn't right, it's better for everyone to just accept the pain. does it suck? Absolutely. It sucks so much more than I could have ever imagined. Sorry Mom, I know you hate that word, but there's no other way to say it. When you love someone, you want what is best for their life. And when you realize that you aren't the best, it's time to move forward and part ways. And I still love him. So the best thing I can do, because I know it was the right decision, is to pray for him. For his happiness, his future, his son, his peace, his growth and his success.

As much as I didn't want this, because no one ever wants heartbreak, I know God has been preparing my heart for a while. And because He knows and loves me deeply, He knew that my heart would hurt a lot. He knew that I would cry a lot of tears. He knew in advance that not even a week before the breakup, I would write a blog post about trusting God, clothing myself with strength and dignity without fear of the future and loving Him, even and especially when things don't go as I planned.

My heart is broken today. But my heart isn't only broken for my circumstances. I let go of someone I love very much out of obedience to God. I know it is what is best for both of us, as much as it hurts now. I know that God is going to be there in every step of my pain and every time I just plain miss him. So yes, my heart is broken for a lost relationship. But my heart is even more broken, once again for this world that we live in.

Two black men were shot and killed by the police this week. In all honesty, the week that I've had emotionally, I didn't really want to read the articles or watch the videos about these tragedies. But what I know is that tragically, two more black men lost their lives.

Five police officers were killed in Dallas last night. Five. By one gunman.

This isn't a gun problem, people. It's a people problem. It's a heart problem. It's a sin problem. These just hit me too close to home. When people put all police officers in a box and say that law enforcement is bad and is out to get black people, that's a gut shot. Don't get me wrong, racism is far from gone. Racism seems to only be getting worse. We try to be blind to it, we try to cover it up, we try to deny it, but there is no denying the fact that racism is not even near being dead. But, to say that all police officers are bad is saying that my sister is bad. It's saying that my dad - the most amazing and compassionate man I know - is bad. It's saying that people I hold very dear to my heart are bad. We can't be so naive to think that there are no bad cops. But we also can't be so ignorant to believe that all cops are bad. Taking the badge is a sign of duty, respect and service to the community. Many of the officers out there put their lives on the line every day to protect and to serve, not to target black people and to kill them.

In the same way, we have to acknowledge, grieve and despise the fact that black people are getting targeted. Two black men shot by police this week. By the police. Which means these are the only two black lives lost that we heard of. This doesn't include racially motivated shootings by any other group, gang or individual. This week. If we were to take a look at the statistics, what would they say about this month, this year so far? This is unjust. This is uncalled for. It angers and disgusts me to think that we live in America in 2016 and this is still happening. We can do better.

It tears my heart to pieces when I think about the families of those who lost their lives this week. Of those who lost their lives in Orlando. Of those who lost their lives in every act of injustice taken out on them because of their skin color, because of their occupation, because of their religion or because of their sexuality. Our world desperately needs Jesus. Our country desperately needs Jesus. We need to hope again. I can't take much more of this. But the answer is never violence. All violence does is stir up hatred in a vicious cycle. We need more love. For everyone. Black lives matter. Police lives matter. Life matters.

Life matters because God says life matters. It's honestly hard to see God in all of this sometimes. But as Mr. Rogers so wisely said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” We can see God in the helpers. We can see God in the way He reveals Himself to us if we allow Him to. We find Him when we seek comfort for the overwhelming grief we feel for the fact that two black men and five police officers died this week. He is with us. He is wrapping us in His arms. He loves us through our grief.

For me, this week, I saw Him in His timing. I listened to Him, and over and over again He affirmed me. He reminded me to continue to listen to Him. He knows the plans He has, and He is leading me on the path He wants me to be on. Instead of disobedience, I am choosing to obey. Instead of dwelling in my sorrow, I pray. I pray for my heart, I pray for my future, I pray for all life to be honored. I pray for our country. I pray for the decision America has to make in the next few months. I can't let sorrow get the best of me. I can't let my heartbreak overcome me. I have to choose obedience every single day. Does that mean that my pain is completely gone? Nope. Still sucks. But it means that I'm healing and I'm letting God take my pain and use it for good. I'm allowing Him to take my sorrow and turn it to joy.

So as you lay these things in our Father's hands, weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice, and let God overwhelm you with His strength and comfort. In such a time as this, clothe yourself in strength and dignity, and laugh without fear of your future.