White flag.

This woman has wisdom. AND a
motorcycle license.
Perfect combination.

Another early morning where instead of doing what I would choose to do if I was able (work out), I have to do what was chosen for me. Ice my back. Make coffee. Take medication. Sit with God. This is the 2 hour window that I need to prep for my day so I can actually be a walking, functioning member of society.

Tomorrow I have round two of my spine injections. I am putting a lot of hope in tomorrow. What God is asking me this morning: "Why can't you put THAT much hope in Me, today?" I still don't trust God fully. That is disappointing.

The temptation here is to hurry up the healing. But isn't that our way? "As soon as this is over, everything will be great." "If only I was past this, I could get back on track." "If I just didn't have to deal with this, I would be more thankful."

I am learning how to wave the white flag here. I have to surrender. I can fight this all I want, and cry every day about it (which happens each morning, like clock work), or I can surrender. I preach surrender to other people every day. But now it's time for me to man up and do it myself.

I am a fixer. I want to fix things and immediately move on. I equate this problem with that stupid show "Extreme Home Makeover." (sorry if you like it, but it is really emotional propoganda.) They set out to do great things. They rebuild a home in a week. I always wanted them to go back to that house a year later to see how it's fallen apart because of the carelessness of rushing through a renovation.

I want to be renovated by God from the foundation up. And I can only imagine how much time that takes. Because I am tough. And God knows that. He also knows how long this will take so that the change will actually stick.

So it's white flag time. For me. And maybe for something in your life too?

-Liz

People plungers.

Friday night I had my friends Hannah and Austin over for dinner and a little backyard bonfire. We have all had crazy weeks, it was great to sit around and do nothing. Our conversation even brought up the question: What is the grossest thing you've ever had to work with or clean up or touch? (This question is important to the story, and is about to have a new answer.)

They left at around 10:30 and I came back into the house to the sound of rushing water. I peaked into my downstairs bathroom and my toilet was...I don't know how to put this...EXPLODING.

And I mean exploding. Like a dirty fountain filled with toilet paper, leaves, pine needles, and a number of other questionably mirky things.

It's great to get to the point where you don't know
how to thank your friends for being your friends.
Side note: we all had to throw our shoes away after
this event on Friday night.

I was standing in a few inches of water in my bathroom and thought: "What do I do?" I didn't even have a plunger.

I simply thought that one of my friends had blown up my bathroom and then high tailed it out of there. But now I have a mess. A HUGE, stinky, mess.

So I called Austin and said "EMERGENCY! Bring a plunger!" She and Hannah were at my house in 5 minutes.

To make a long story short, Hannah's dad had a carpet cleaner (thank God) and we spent the next few hours bailing out the mirky water and floating debris (that's what I am choosing to call it) and waiting for the plumber. Mike the Plumber showed up around 1 am with the tools for the job and some stories that have scarred me for life. (Note: don't ask a plumber about the weirdest thing he's ever seen unless you are prepared to be psychologically changed forever.)  Mike the Plumber's diagnosis is that one of the outside sewer lines had been cracked by tree roots and the pipe was clogged up with roots and debris, causing my toilet to clog up and eventually back up violently right into my house.

I have had some thoughts to think about this event. Strangely enough, it coincides with a hard reality that God has shown me this week. Something I have known for my whole life but am so afraid to admit:

I SUCK AT LETTING PEOPLE IN.

All caps. There, I said it. And maybe this is why I like keeping a blog. I can really bare my soul to everyone, but it's on my terms. In my words. Limited. My way. No surprises.

My back stuff has forced me to rely on others. It has slowed me down. It has made me examine myself and look in the mirror harder than ever. And Friday night was hilarious to me because I was like...embarrassed to ask for help. But I had no other choice. I had to call my friends and they had to come over and stick their hands in my shit (sorry, but seriously, that's what it was) and help me clean it up. There was no way around it.

Reminder: your texts are more
important to people than you think.

I called Austin and Hannah because I thought I just needed to borrow their plunger. That I only needed a tool from them. Austin said it pretty well at the end of the night: "The best part about this, is that you thought all you needed was a plunger."

What I needed was them. It's crazy how we use other people to get what we want, and don't even know it. But Friday, for me, was a funny reminder from God that I need people. And that's not always on my terms or the ways I want it to be. Sometimes people see the parts of me that I don't want anyone to see. And surprise surprise, they love me anyway! In fact, people seem to like knowing these parts of me!

Would I have preferred my toilet to have not exploded? Yes. But did God use it to paint me a picture of why it's necessary to let people in? Yes.

Newsflash: I don't have it all together. And neither do you. So can we stop pretending that we do?

-Liz

Dear high school me...

Last weekend I went up to PA to visit my family and to meet my friend Dee so we could road trip back down to NC together.

I had some downtime on Saturday, so I decided to go over to my alma mater's track and run a little bit. Things have certainly changed since I was at Unionville High School. Now the track is crazy fancy, the football field is turf, and there are advertising billboards everywhere. When I went there, the track was gravel, the football field was full of divots, and the only advertising was the occasional announcement over the PA during halftime.

This is a picture of the field at the high school. This is also a picture of me beginning a reminiscing process that took me back to high school me. High school me hated this track. She feared it. She watched people run around it and wonder how they did it. She had to take P.E. on it and used the old "I have cramps" excuse more than a few times. (sorry, boys...TMI?)

She was also very insecure, and hid her body behind clothes that were baggy, made for boys, and plain enough to never draw attention to herself. She was defeated, knowing there was more out there for her, but afraid to try.

So last Saturday, I took high school me for a run. And we did the fastest 4 mile run I have EVER done. 4 miles in 48 minutes. That's a big deal. Each lap around that track was a marked victory for me. This lap is for high school me, to remind me that I can do it. This one is for high school me, to reclaim the dignity I never showed to myself. This one is for high school me, to give me back the respect and worth that I deserve. Lap after lap after lap.

It is good for us to reminisce. It is VERY good for us to confront the past and not let it poison our present. So go down memory lane if you are so bold, but make sure you bring Jesus with you. Last Saturday, He was pretty clear about running with me around memory lane, but then driving with my friend Dee and I back to North Carolina, to a present where things are looking brighter and brighter.

-Liz

Accepting you for you

Another great friend of ours, Cameron, who has been to Jamaica with us twice, and soon to be a third time, had these thoughts on his heart. It's his first time to publicly be so bold, which is a blessing for us because that kind of risk always means great reward. Enjoy!

I've never written a blog before so this is a little bit weird to me, but here it goes. Last night while on the phone with my good friends Liz and Dee I came to the realization that I am in fact my own person and I shouldn't live my life being compared to others. My whole life I've felt that I've always been compared to my two older brothers, whether I was being praised for being “better” than them or I was being put down for “failing” to live up to their lives. I know this seems absurd, but for me its something that has always loomed over me and caused a great deal of stress in my life. Whether its trying to do as well in them at school or just trying to act and look like them, I struggle with inadequacy and feeling of being inferior compared to them.

 However last night I realized that I am in fact my own person, and I shouldn't compare myself to them because I am in fact NOT them, and that I am being unfair to myself and ultimately selling myself short of the life God wants me to live. After all God made me “perfect” and in his image, so why should I ever feel inferior? Today I've really realized that everything I do I need to do to the best of my ability to praise God, but I have also realized that if I try my best and put forth everything I have I cannot fail in God's eyes, which makes me feel so much better about life in general. This may seem silly to you guys that something this small could have such a big impact on my life, but after this “come to Jesus” last night my life has been much easier for me to accept. One of the dangers that comes with comparing ourselves to others is that it will lead to envy and jealousy, which are both vile in God's eyes.

Romans 12: 6 says it all: “Let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be; without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't. If you preach, just preach God's Message, nothing else.” (The Message).

I hope this will help someone reading to realize that you are not what the world says you are, but what God says you are, and he says you are perfect, and redeemed, and that you are filled with the spirit of God.

-Cameron