Spring fades into summer. The warm sun has begun to scorch the earth. The wildflowers on the side of the highway are slowly disappearing. The green hills that used to make me smile are turning back into the brown brush I remember. 

It's easy to feel like life is fading as the weather gets warmer and spring turns into summer. But just because we can't see the flowers on the side of the road anymore doesn't mean that God has stopped working. Those flowers are a reminder of God's faithfulness in the past. 

​AND God's faithfulness continues through all seasons. He works as long and as hard and as often as an evergreen tree grows. 

God is evergood as the trees are evergreen.

At the end of 2021, I began thinking and praying about my word of the year for 2022. One word echoed in my mind over and over again--

“Healing.”

I wasn’t sure why this word kept coming to mind, but I decided to go with it. I had no idea just how much this would come to mean in the next year. 

Healing is a weird thing. It’s beautiful and it’s also really, really hard. It takes patience and hard work and discipline and sacrifice. It takes time and effort and focus and determination. It takes slowing down and messing up and noticing slow progress. It takes perseverance when sometimes the only thing you want to do is cry yourself to sleep.

If you’re anything like me, in the process of healing, you’ll probably ask yourself a hundred times, “Is this worth it? Is it really worth it?”

I dare you to say yes. I dare you to keep choosing to say yes, over and over again, even when doubt creeps into your mind and you can’t seem to take another step.


Here are a few things that helped me on the journey towards healing this year. I hope they will help you heal, too.

     1.   Name the brokenness. 

This year, I experienced brokenness in my body through a stress fracture. I experienced brokenness in my heart through rejection and fragmented relationships. I experienced brokenness in my mind as trauma tried to take ahold of my peace and replace it with anxiety. I experienced brokenness in my soul and spirit as my eyes were opened to my own pride and bitterness. 

In order to move forward with healing, I had to acknowledge these things.

     2.   Share the brokenness with someone you can trust.

One of the bravest things you can do is to share your brokenness with others. It is scary to be vulnerable, but there is so much freedom and peace that comes from knowing you don’t walk alone. 

A word of caution—make wise decisions in who you decide to share this with. We cannot expect others to always respond perfectly, but we should choose people who are safe and trustworthy. We should choose people who are mature and can receive vulnerability with gentleness and grace. 

I know that I am blessed to have a few people I can trust to share my brokenness with. They have continued to love me and walk with me as I heal. They encourage me and challenge me along the way. They speak truth and remind me of my worth. I am forever grateful for these people.

I hope you have at least one person who you can turn to and share your brokenness with. If you don’t, I would love to be a listening ear. Seriously, please reach out to me if you need someone to talk to.

     3.   Bring your brokenness to God.
​
This is the most important part of the healing journey. It can also be the most difficult.

God wants us to bring all of ourselves to him—especially the broken parts. He wants our tears and our fears and our frustration and all of our emotions. 

He sees us, knows us, loves us, and accepts us. Just as we are. All of us. All the time.

And because of that, we can trust that God is good even when life isn’t. God is so good that he wraps his arms around us and sits with us in our pain. He gently reminds us that we are not alone and that he wants to heal our brokenness.


Healing doesn’t always happen exactly when and how we want it to. It often looks like two steps forward, one step back. 

For me, healing this year meant taking a step back from running and some of the things I love so that I could heal physical brokenness in my body. Healing meant a lot of tears and words scribbled in my journal. Healing meant having a lot of difficult conversations. Healing meant starting therapy to address some of the deeper brokenness in me. Healing meant a lot of time spent in prayer and a lot of patience as I waited for God to heal in his own timing.

Healing can be such a beautiful journey. It can also be exhausting and scary. If you’re in the process of healing, I encourage you to give yourself lots of grace because it is not an easy journey. But I can promise you, IT IS WORTH IT.

Two steps forward, one step back. 
God is healing my heart, my mind, my soul, and my spirit.
He is good, even when life doesn’t feel good.

I am so grateful for this journey. I look forward to 2023 and new opportunities to learn, to grow, and to heal. 

Many blessings to all of you as you continue your unique journey. <3

In June, I got the opportunity to travel to Quesnel, British Columbia, Canada for a missions trip! It was an honor and a privilege to serve alongside some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. 

The members of the church we joined in Canada were all so loving and welcoming. They serve food for the homeless/those on the streets every Saturday and Sunday. On Saturdays, they serve a hot meal at the church with real plates and utensils. This invites people who come in to sit down and share a meal while engaging in community. It was really impactful for me to sit and listen as people shared their stories so openly. 

The next day, we arrived at the church early to set up for the Sunday service. As I walked in, I was greeted by the smell of cigarette smoke. I was surprised at first and then I thought, “How cool is it that the church smells like smoke because of all the people who were welcomed here yesterday?” As people from the streets poured into the church for the service, I paused to appreciate the welcoming spirit among those in Quesnel—one that says come as you are and actually means it. 

Come as you are, even if you smell like smoke because of your addiction. Come as you are, even if you haven’t showered in who knows how long. Come as you are, even if you’re drunk or high. God loves you where you are, and we will too. 

What if this was the kind of love we extended to those in our own communities? What if we got to know the people we pass on the streets and greeted them by name? 

​Because that’s the kind of love these people showed. And I believe that is what the church is supposed to look like—where clean cut, well-off people can sit next to drunk, homeless people and worship the same God together. 

May we slow down enough
To buy strawberries from that little stand

May we slow down enough
To smell the fragrance of the orange trees

May we slow down enough
To buy flowers on the street corner

May we slow down enough
To pick poppies on our walk

May we slow down enough
To dance in the kitchen

May we slow down enough
To stargaze late at night

May we slow down enough
To appreciate that us means you and me

May we slow down enough
To remember that life was meant to be enjoyed

May we slow down enough
To thank Jesus for the sweet little things

Do you ever struggle with the things that you simply can't understand? The things of the past that you just can't come to grips with? Or the parts of the future that you can't see yet? 

If I'm being honest, lately I have been struggling to believe that God is writing a good story. I KNOW that he is, but sometimes it doesn't FEEL like it. I know that he knows what he's doing, but I don't understand it myself. And there's a part of me that wishes I did. 

I like things to be CLEAR. I like it when I can SEE the lines on the page. I like NEAT penmanship. 

But what if God doesn’t have neat penmanship? What if it’s hard to make out the story that he’s writing? What if I can’t read it, so I just have to trust his words when he says that the story he’s writing is good? What if he’s not hiding it from me and what if he’s not still writing it, but my little brain just can’t comprehend all the words on the page?

It’s like trying to read in a different language. I understand some of it, and I can get the gist sometimes…but other times I’m completely lost and I need a translator.

Jesus. Jesus came to be the translator. Jesus came to make it clear what is most important to know. So maybe he’s not an impersonal translator, but more of a personal teacher. He came to teach us the most important things, but he couldn’t stay here forever because we’re not supposed to learn it all. That’s impossible for us right now in our fallen, human state. 

Jesus, the good teacher. Who brought us good news. To teach us a good story. One that we may not fully understand…but when we get to the end of the book, we’ll say, “Wow. That was a GOOD BOOK. God is a GOOD WRITER.” 

And maybe he won’t translate it all into English by the end, but we’ll understand enough to be able to confidently say that the book was GOOD. 

So in the meantime, I’ll keep reading this chapter. I’ll keep struggling through it. I’ll look forward to the challenge. I'm determined to not get discouraged when I don’t understand. I WILL TRUST that this story has a GOOD ENDING. And I might miss some of the details…but the important part is that I understand the main point of the story: that it’s not really about the story itself, but the author.

Our story is about the author. And THAT is what makes this story good. 

As I reflect on this year, I am filled with gratitude. There were so many reasons for me to rejoice this year.

Making new friends. Deepening my relationships with old friends. A great first college track season. Getting more involved in the church that now feels like home. Encouraging kids towards Jesus through soccer. In person classes and real campus life this fall. Sweet time with family. And so many fun moments and memories in between.

And though my heart is full, I am also weary. The most accurate description of this fall semester is “emotionally exhausting.” I’ve really had to rely on God’s strength to get me through the difficult moments. This year more than ever, I’ve learned that I simply can’t do this life on my own. I need God. I need safe spaces to call home. I need people who encourage me and continue to love me, even when I have nothing left to give.

I’ve also had to learn that it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to not have it all together. It’s okay to not always be the strong one. It’s okay to bring my broken prayers to God, because he wants my whole heart—even the parts that hurt.

My word of the year for 2021 was REJOICE. It wasn’t a goal I attempted to achieve by the end of the year, but simply something to focus on. I wanted to focus on rejoicing in all circumstances. I’ve been reminded recently that this doesn’t mean plastering a fake smile on your face and pretending like everything’s fine. It means trusting that God has a plan and that he knows what he’s doing. It means trusting his promises, even when they don’t make sense. It means trusting that he will be with us and he will be faithful, even when this life feels far from good.

As this year comes to a close, maybe you feel weary, too. Maybe you’re exhausted. Maybe you’re scared of the unknown future. Maybe you don’t feel like rejoicing.

What would it look like if we chose to praise God in the midst of the uncertainty? What would it look like to trust that his plans are better than our own? What would it look like to rejoice anyway?

In this next year, I pray that we would create more safe spaces to process hard things together. I pray that we would bring our exhausted souls to the feet of the Father and receive real rest. I pray that we would wrap our arms around each other and kneel before our Father with humble, honest prayers. I pray that we would remember HIS promises and rely on HIS strength when things are difficult. And I pray that we would choose to rejoice. Together. Because it’s so much better when we choose to do life TOGETHER.

P.S. If you need a reason to smile today, here's a photo of my silly family :)

​Hey, friend
I just wanted to say
I know it’s been hard
But you’ll be okay

You’re doing your best
That’s all you can do
The fate of the world
Is not up to you

I can see the pain
Weighting you down
As you cry silently
Not making a sound

I see you there
You’re not alone
You don’t have to do this
On your own

It’s okay to admit
You don’t have it all together
And that you need help
Fighting against the weather

I see the storm inside
No, you’re not crazy
That’s how it feels sometimes
Sunflower in a field of daisies

What you feel, it’s okay
You don’t have to hide from me
I’ll sit here with you
And listen to the sea

As the waves crash
On shifting sand
Uncertainty lies
In not knowing where to land

You’re not expected
To have it all figured out
So next time it’s confusing,
Don’t jump into doubt

Maybe it’s okay to pause
Maybe it’s okay to not know
Maybe it’s okay to wait
And take this slow

There’s no timer
On the days of your life
No deadline to figure out
Exactly how to thrive

Each day the sun rises
Is another reminder
To give yourself grace
And learn to be kinder

You’re not perfect
And that’s okay
I wouldn’t want it
Any other way

That’s what makes us human
The fact that we fall
This life is a journey
That’s the best part of all

You’re okay, friend
Things will get better
In the meantime,
Let’s do this together

I love foggy mornings and warm sweaters and raindrops on the window. 

I love mountains and tall trees and greenery all around me. 

I love walking alone and walking at night and walking with people and walking under the stars. 

I love sunrises and sunsets and the feeling of warm light on my skin. 

I love journaling and stargazing and thinking deeply. 

I love intentional questions and good conversations and sharing empathy with others. 

I love supporting and encouraging and simply being a friend. 

I love listening and I love it when others are willing to listen. 

I love people and people watching and watching people people watch. 

I love little kids and old couples and all the time in between. 

I love tender moments and gentle touches and simply being held. 

I love love and I love hugs and I love helping hearts heal. 

I love the cool breeze that reminds me that God’s presence is real. 

I love light breaking through the clouds or shining through the trees. 

I love misty runs and dramatic skies. 

I love being allowed to cry and not needing to explain why. 

I love grace and gratitude. 

I love joy and peace and hope. 

I love pausing to breathe and soak in the little moments that are few and fleeting in this busy world. 

Life is sweet and simple and I prefer to celebrate it that way.

I haven’t shared much of my writing recently. If I’m being honest, I’m still working through some things. It’s hard to share what’s on my heart when I’m still not quite sure what it means. But we all have seasons like that. Seasons of waiting, seasons of growing, seasons of pruning, etc. 

Ecclesiastes 3 says that there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. The author lists all the different seasons we go through. If you’re anything like me, sometimes it can be difficult to understand what you’re feeling at any given point in time. If you look through the list in Ecclesiastes 3, it might help you to make sense of the season you’re in right now. 

I don’t have it all figured out. If there’s one sentence I’ve said more than anything else this semester, it’s that I don’t have everything figured out. My close friends can all attest to that! :) I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not supposed to have it all figured out. But I know the God who’s already figured everything out. He knows his plans and he knows my future. He knows my thoughts and he knows my heart even better than I do. He knows what he’s up to. I can rest in the arms of my Heavenly Father, knowing that he knows. He knows it all. 

So here’s to learning to be comfortable
Even amidst the uncertainty

I am learning that I can grow
Even when I don’t know what I’m growing towards

There is a time for everything
And a moment for every emotion

A time to grow and a time to prune
A time to work and a time to rest
A time to run and a time to slow down
A time to fight and a time to surrender
A time to wait and a time to dance
A time to laugh and a time to cry
A time to understand and a time to be uncertain

Here’s to the moments
Where we don’t know what we feel
Here’s to the times
When we don’t feel certain about anything
Here’s to the seasons
Where our thoughts are as cloudy as the skies

Because there is always time for grace
There is always time for love
There is always time for joy
There is always time for peace
There is always time for hope
There is always time for growth
There is always time to be grateful

So here’s to the seasons of uncertainty. Here’s to learning how to be comfortable being uncomfortable. Here’s to the unknown. 

And here’s to being grateful for the little moments in between that bring us joy. Here’s to sweet friends and sunny days and polaroids and barefoot soccer games. Here’s to the little blessings that make life so much sweeter :)

I’ve been thinking a lot about gratefulness recently. But not as something that I need to work on (because I’ve been there done that, right? HAHA). Instead, I’ve been judging others for their lack of gratefulness. Oh, THEY need to be more grateful. THEY have so much to be grateful for. THEY are taking so much for granted. THEY need to remember that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. 

God convicted me today about my own ungratefulness. He gently exposed those moments in my life where I say things like “I just wish…” or “If only…” or “I can’t wait until…” or “Can we just skip to the part when…” You get the point. 

As I was finally seeing how ungrateful I've been, God whispered this to me: "The grass isn’t always greener on the other side. But the grass is always greener where you’re grateful."

What if we took the time to thank God for every blade of grass? What if we even thanked him for the grass we can’t see but trust is still growing? 

If we were grateful for every blade of grass, we would have to slow WAY down. We would have to open our eyes to see the finer details. We would have to stop rushing around and pause to take in the moment. 

I don’t know about you, but I could use a whole lot more of that. More peace. More rest. More pausing. More listening. More gratefulness. 

Though we might not be able to literally thank God for every single blade of grass, we can start by thanking him for the grass beneath our feet. We can start by being grateful wherever we are. 

Let’s do this together. Let’s be grateful for the ground we’re standing on. Let’s be grateful for the road ahead, overgrown and obscure as it may be. Let’s be grateful for the growth in life, even when it’s slow. 

And let’s see just how much gratitude can change the way we see the world. Let’s see just how much a heart can change with a simple “thank you.” Let’s see just how much greener the world can be when we appreciate every blade of grass. 

Because the grass is always greener where we’re grateful.