A few weeks ago, I had spiritual direction and as Van and I settled into the time, we did our routine check-in and momentarily paused to sit still before the Lord. I took the moment to  be still and ask the Lord what he wanted to say and/or show me about this season and an image flashed in my mind's eye of a sizable rock in the middle of a powerful river. The water was quite forceful and moved powerfully around the rock. In that moment, the Lord proceeded to speak to me: "Grace, you are the rock and you feel the pressures of the water swirling around you and rushing past you. Hold steady, and allow the water to smooth out the rough edges." 

This season feels hard because it is dissimilar to what others are experiencing. When I look around me, I see friends who are happily dating / engaged, I see friends who are pregnant or who have just given birth (not to mention my sister who recently had her own child earlier this Spring), I see friends who are occupied with school and other friend groups. Indeed, the seasons that we go through and that we observe others experience are a part and parcel of life. And yet, the tender and raw chord that reverberates throughout me is that I have been forgotten and that I am unworthy. That ultimately, those around me don't care for me. The tension of this season is that I have found myself in the thick of the swirling waters and the request from the Lord is that I stay in this space and try not to extricate myself out of the transformative furnace.  What I am addressing again and again in this season is the question of identity - what does it look like to exist as a daughter of God regardless of relationship status and regardless of who i am to others?  What does it look like to stand firmly in the midst of changing relationships/friendships and recognize my inherent worth as someone beloved by the Lord? What does it look like to loosen my expectations of the people around me, and simply see each person and friendship as an unexpected gift from the Lord? I will not move from this place until I am changed from the inside out. And even if there are moments that feel lonely, painful, and raw, I will remain until the Lord says it is time to move. 

In the midst of a season that feels painful and raw, I see the Lord's hand taking care of me. I'm thankful for my small group, for girlfriends who I can touch base with consistently, for my sister and the encouragement she gave me recently, for my dear roommates who make me laugh and bring levity to life, for the opportunity to get to know my upstairs neighbor Dania better, for volunteer opportunities and continually stepping outside of my world to serve others, for God's continual nearness and his gentle hand protecting and guiding me. 

november poem

at best, seconds minutes hours this sequence 
blurs into infinitesimal moments that fails to capture 
the hue of a season in limbo
at best, thriving is communing 
thriving is knowing 
thriving is mourning 
surrendering 
anticipating 
these losses and gains

thriving may be the tears that rise 

and fall to nourish fertile ground -

a gift to myself and to others 

as i come into being

thriving is healing,

and allowing what needs to take place to

take place 

to take place

in sequence

in tandem

individually and collectively 

lockstep with the divine

Hannah

Something beautiful happened yesterday, and i feel compelled to write about it. I would be remiss to say that this season hasn't been the easiest one but like all seasons, not without God and his presence. An incident happened the other day where my roommate and I were in the kitchen, she going about making a smoothie using my Vitamix while I looking at something on my computer. I was conscious in that moment of her using my blender and would look up every now and again. As she washed the Vitamix pitcher, she proceeded to place it on the rack that looked precarious; indeed, she happened to place it on the edge of the rack and I had a feeling it was going to fall to the ground. And sure enough, the pitcher fell and my instinct was to get up and go over to pick it up. She and i were both startled by the moment, and as i proceeded to pick up the pitcher, she exclaimed "grace, i got it" to which i brusquely responded, "it's okay - i got it." I proceeded to wipe it down and put it away. 

The image i've painted above doesn't do justice to the tension of the moment. it was thick; it was palpable; it was a cloud that saturated the moment and drove a wedge between her and I. she immediately retreated to her room and i stood there, hesitant, confused and frustrated. Frustrated because the pitcher had fallen and she should have known better but confused because well.. why did i respond in the way that i did? Why was i so reactive? Who had I turned to in that moment? 

i left the house to go pick up 17 baguettes from table, donkey and stick and on my way there I voice memo'ed a girlfriend attempting to process what had happened. I felt awful and felt shame about how i had responded. obviously, my response was disproportionate to the incident. I ruminated into the following day and continued to get this sense that my desire for control and how it shows up in my life is a form of bondage that I want to walk away from and be free of. 

Hannah and I exchanged some texts where she was honest with how hurt she had felt in that moment; later that evening, i came home from work and prayed with a friend over the pending follow up convo with Hannah. There are some moments when God's presence is so thick and when there's breakthrough - the conversation I had with Hannah was an unexpected moment of grace and mercy that landed on my lap like a surprise gift. 

I somberly began the conversation by apologizing to Hannah about how I had acted and how disproportionate my response had been during that moment when the pitcher dropped to the ground. It wasn't my intention to scare or hurt her but my gut reaction was to take what was mine, to protect it and assert some form of control over a situation that had unexpectedly risen. She felt overwhelmed by the moment, and I felt ashamed at prioritizing material objects over my roommate and for hurting her. As I shared all this with her, she earnestly informed me that she knew that who i became in that moment wasn't truly me and that she empathized with how deep the root of my tendency to maintain control must be. She empathized with my pain, and sought to contextualize it and then proceeded to tell me that she forgave me and understood that i was on a journey and that she knew i had a deep desire to be better. And that even if there were more moments where i missed the mark, she would continue to care for and love me. 

I cried in that moment - a moment so rich with God's grace that I could only stand and receive. A moment where I truly felt seen and loved, despite the streaks of ugliness within me. When I look back at my past, and scan the continuum of me as a baby, toddler, child, teenager who attempted to grasp unto and comprehend the reality of missing father figure, absent sister, various moments of trauma interspersed throughout a sensitive period of development, i understand why i act the way i do. Why at times it's easier to be independent and not rely on others, why i have such a fixed schedule and have difficulty being spontaneous, why i place high value on the things i own and feel that I'm entitled to. Why it's easier to find comfort in the things I have rather than letting others in and trusting them to show up for me. And yet, the story doesn't end with just those phrases because I see the person God is shaping me into - someone who continues to show up authentically in community, both humbly and vulnerably. Someone who desires to be transformed by God and who wants not just a bandaid, but deep internal healing that goes beyond surface level. Someone who is worthy, and incredibly loved. 

In all of this, I'm reminded how much God desires to use community to catalyze our healing. Just as much as that sacred moment was one that was an agent of healing for me, Hannah also articulated that she was thankful that she could vulnerably share with me how she felt and that i was able to receive it well. I'm humbled by it all, and once again reminded that it is a blessing to live with roommates who exude Christ and the fruits of the Spirit. 

Switching Lanes

Two weeks ago, I had some girlfriends over and we were shooting the breeze and eventually found ourselves talking about dating and dating apps. It's been a year since I ended my last relationship and for the most part, this season of singleness has been absolutely lovely. I have relished time by myself, intentional time with other friends and investing in different relationships, serving at church, setting goals for myself like running the Paris Marathon and taking my mom on a mom-daughter trip. And then there are moments when I miss the intimacy of being in a romantic relationship and I guess this recent hangout/conversation with Janet and Tina stirred something in me internally because the next day, I found myself creating a Hinge account. Mind you, I haven't been on dating apps since 2022 and for the most part, the accounts that popped up on my screen were more or less mediocre. Objectively speaking, the number of gym pics and weird angle selfies that I came across were too many to count and most of the messages sent my way sat in my Hinge inbox collecting dust. Not sure what Christian-Agnostic means, but no thanks - I'm not about to step into those waters. A few days passed, and a guy messaged me and a brief glance at his Hinge profile made me pause - here was someone who actually presented themself  more holistically and seemed to have a solid walk with the Lord; plus it helped that Janet knows him and could vouch for him in a pretty positive light. 

I won't go into all the details but we went on a few dates and I quickly realized that I felt pretty platonic about the relationship and communicated as such to him IRL. His response was so sweet and we agreed to remain friends. In all of this, I realize that the lane I was in prior to starting a Hinge account was actually a good one. I was and continue to thrive as a single woman; in fact, having a Hinge account has been for me more of a distraction taking focus away from the good in my life and has been more of an emotional drain that I don't really care to feed. If anything, it highlights the fact that the focus of this season should be leaning into this season of singleness, cherishing it, and ultimately, trusting that the Lord is in control and things will happen when they happen. I don't need to exhaust myself by "putting myself out there" (not a bad thing per se, just not for me in this season). Yesterday at church, i was in the middle of worshipping and the Lord spoke to me, saying "Grace, be still." And so I choose to be still, and move back into the lane of singleness - all with a sigh of relief and with a posture of surrender to the Lord and his time and sovereignty. 

Trust the Heart Behind the Hand

 Sometimes, it's so easy to forget exactly how much God sees us, knows us, and loves us. I lost sight of his heart earlier this week - on Tuesday, I sensed in myself this underlying current of anxiety/fear related to a few different home/work-related things that had popped up that day. I allowed myself to sit in that anxiety and fear. Regardless of my state of being that day,  I found myself making my way to Chicago Tabernacle that evening because I knew I had to pray it out and meet the Lord. And lo and behold, the topic and theme of the night happened to be God's love and how his love casts out fear. It was such a beautiful time and space to reorient my mind, heart, and emotions and not be hyper-fixated on things out of my control - I closed my mind and tried to envision in my mind's eye the Lord's posture of love towards me. And like clockwork, I just sensed his deep presence and love flowing into my heart and his voice saying, "Grace, I care. I care for you. I'm here." And then I started crying, which is on point with my experience at Chi Tab these past couple of months. It's like the Spirit just meets me and I get wrecked each time. 

Towards the end of the service, there was an altar call and I found myself making my way to the front. I was super touched because three different people came to my side and prayed for me and I just recall feeling so encouraged in that moment. 

I think oftentimes God's hand isn't so evident in our lives. We see glimpses of him working but a lot of the discrepancy requires simply trusting in what he says in scripture about who he is, in our past/present experiences, and how he shows up in community. Regardless of whether or not we see his hand, I desire to trust in his heart, and the overwhelming love that he has for me and for others. 

 I was worshipping at church today and I heard the Lord clearly ask me, "are you ready for a new season?" 

I replied, "yes, Lord." 

Tears and Eggs

 Yesterday, I came home from woodworking and made myself a bowl of eggs and as I started shoveling food into my mouth, started crying. It still hurts, the breakup that happened a year ago. And the realization that time will continue to take us into new seasons and new experiences hit a bit more deeply last night. I cried throughout the night, recalling the many memories and feelings and emotions that made up our two years - the highs and lows, the experience of being so fully and lovingly known, but mostly the beauty of being in relationship with someone so wonderful. I cherish every memory. I cry just writing these words and make space for how hard it was, how hard it still is to let go of someone I held dear in my heart. A year later, and my faith in the Lord and the bigger plan continues to be challenged -  what I deeply desire in my next relationship is peace and assurance from God. More than anything, I want to internally feel peace, and so this is what I boldly pray for: for no hesitation, for a settled sense of assurance that I'm right where I need to be, for affirmation regarding the relationship that supersedes my understanding. And even though I don't fully understand a year post breakup why I had to let Stephen go, I know that I was obedient to the Lord and that in my surrender, fruit will be born. 

Elohim Karov Elay

 Tonight I want to ponder and sit on the ways in which God has been near to me, especially as I honor and proclaim as sacred this season of singleness. This week, in particular, brought many instances of awareness of his presence and nearness. 

On Monday, I got to chatting with Alison and as we caught up, she talked about how this season has been a financially harder one for her. She mentioned how stepping away from having a job as a therapist in the inpatient hospital psych unit brought rest and peace but also a pretty big cut in pay. That day in particular was a hard one for her as she had to unexpectedly replace all four tires on her car and she admitted to me she was struggling to trust that God would turn the financial tide around and provide for her. I listened to her, chiming in with articulations of empathy and encouragement and we wrapped up the conversation. I later went to a restore + sound bath class at my yoga studio that evening and towards the end of the class, the Lord spoke clearly to me and told me he wanted to encourage Alison, and that he wanted to do so through me. I clearly heard him say to me to give her a certain monetary amount via Venmo, which I did the next morning. In this season, what continues to strike me is that I am meant to pour out all the good things God has blessed me with. As in, I want to and so very much desire to keep the blessings moving. There is a part of me that recognizes that the Lord is growing me into the person he created me to be and that his favor and blessing is upon me, not to hoard or inflate my ego, but to channel towards loving others. In that moment when I sent Alison that Venmo, I felt honored that God wanted to use me to encourage a truly beautiful friend. 

The next day, I found myself driving to Chicago Tabernacle for the weekly prayer meeting. As I entered the sanctuary and found a seat towards the front, I started to pray and pretty quickly, the air began to shift and I began to become more aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit in the space As I prayed, God laid upon me such a heavy burden to pray for those in my life who don't know him. Sam, Ruby, Rich, Dania, the list went on and on and I prayed for each person. I couldn't stop weeping, the tears kept flowing down my face, and I recognized in that moment that deep was calling out to deep. The intercessor's heart that God has given me burned, and I felt the burden that God must feel towards those who don't know him. I wept, and prayed that each person would have a holy encounter with the Lord. 

Fast forward to Thursday I was able to work remote and once the work day was finished, I went to Dodd Camera on the hunt for a mirrorless camera. I had been praying and talking to the Lord about this season of new hobbies and passions and the opportunity to take to heart the words "pay attention to what you pay attention to", asking him to bring the right camera my way. Earlier in the year, I signed up for a photography class and was on a mission to find a camera I could grow into prior to the start of class. Thanks to many a Reddit thread and YouTube, I had my eyes set on getting a Fujifilm XT30 II camera and perhaps a XF 18-55 lens (if i could get my hands on one). I shuffled into Dodd with low expectations, thinking I would maybe poke and prod at a few cameras and get something online. It so happened that the camera store had acquired a new XT30 II just the day prior. I grinned, and asked what lenses they had. The store rep, Daniel, remarked that the particular lens i was wanting was hard to come by, and that in general, the store didn't acquire many Fujifilm lenses due to brand loyalty and popularity. He briefly looked around at the glass case lining the side of the store, and confirmed that he didn't have the lens i was looking for. He pulled out a few other lenses, all of which were outside my budget of (greater than $300). I hmmmed quite a deal and asked if he could look again at his inventory, which he proceeded to do. And guess what? He scratched his head, saying that his inventory indicated that there was a single XF 18-55 lens somewhere in the store. He looked in the back, and proceeded to come out with a used XF 18-55 lens exclaiming that it had just come in that day and that the price for it was exactly $300. I bought both the camera and the lens on the spot, and there may have been a moment where I literally jumped up and down gleefully. 

Elohim Karov Elay is Hebrew for 'God is Near to Me' - how amazing is it that I/we can experience the Lord's heart in sacred and profound moments as well as his playful, gracious heart in other moments. It all bleeds together, this experience of someone who desires to be known in all situations and who desires and demands to make known his proximity in both deep and beautifully shallow ways. 

Je t'aime

 It's been almost a week since my mom and I parted ways at the CDG airport in Paris and took our separate flights back home to Salt Lake City and Chicago. When I think back on this recent trip and process all that God did, I can't help but marvel at how he orchestrated everything and answered so many little and big prayers. The trip was about me running a marathon and yet, it was also so much more that I can't help but think that the marathon was simply a catalyst that resulted in a bigger, more beautiful opportunity to whisk my mom away to Europe and explore a new city with her. I marvel at how God saw my desire to run an international race and was like "Oh, yeah? Well, I have bigger plans." 

I'm thankful that I intentionally took this time to do a mother-daughter trip; for me, it was important that I do this before getting caught up in life's bigger transitions. Indeed, I wanted to do this trip with my mom as a single woman; plus, it seemed like an opportune time right before my sister gives birth to her first kid and my mom becomes a grandmother. There were so many beautiful moments and lovely interactions with strangers that God gifted us with on this trip - so much so that my mom turned to me at one point and stated she wanted to move to Paris (she'll probably take back these words once her grandson is born haha). 

I never thought much of Paris but this trip just sentimentalized the city for me - with all it's beautiful gardens, it's twinkling Eiffel Tower, many pastry shops and bakeries, and array of art and culture - I look back and thank the Lord that I was able to experience it all with my mother.

 

Reflections on the Eve of Paris

Last Fall, I had a small, silly idea to enter the Tokyo Marathon via the lottery. My luck failed me, and my number wasn't drawn - the idea to run internationally never left, however. In fact, it settled within me, and I found myself searching various races across the globe. One thing led to another, I selected a charity to run for and lo and behold, I was officially signed up for the Paris Marathon. Running has, and always will be, the catalyst to experience God outside the box. God as healer, God as transformer, God as co-runner urging me on and reminding me that to run is to exist in his grace. For the last 16 weeks, I've been pretty knee-deep in my training program, running twice during Tuesdays and also a long run on Saturdays with smaller runs/weight training scattered throughout the week. Just as compelled as I was to sign up for this marathon abroad, I felt an equal weight to prioritize spending time with my mom and to bring her along on this trip. Indeed, the many hours of viewing travel vlogs, getting lost in the sea of Reddit subthreads, messaging family and friends who've been to Paris before, and ordering all things anti-theft online and crafting a 15 day-itinerary on Wanderlog has brought me to this moment on the eve of travel. I'm tired of preparing for this trip, nervous to jump in, and forced into complete surrender of the things that are beyond my control. 

I came back from a trip this past weekend and was in Michigan with a group of friend's celebrating Janet's 30th birthday. There was one moment where Shang turned to me and said, "Grace, if you were standing in front of God and he asked you to let go of one thing, what would it be?" I paused for a moment, and then answered "control". Shang's words came back to me this morning at work because I found myself unable to calm my fear and anxiety about the upcoming trip and then it hit me: maybe this trip is an invitation from God to let go of control. Perhaps this trip is forcing me to face my idol of control and continually surrender and resurrender all the factors and aspects of this trip that are out of of my control. I truly believe that this is God setting the stage and shifting how I approach the next few weeks and time abroad with my mom. I'm not sure what God is going to do but the invitation to let go certainly begets the notion that there'll be an aspect of the Lord taking care of my mom and I even as things don't go as unplanned.

I already see God working in that there'll be some overlap with some New Comm friends - I'll be able to see John Kim who will be coincidentally in Paris the weekend of the marathon and also Sarah and Scott in Lyon later that week. And even more funnily enough, I went back to Faye (I had been deliberating purchasing travel insurance for my mom and I earlier in March) and the quotes for each of us were significantly lower than what I was quoted last month. Enough so that I was able to justify the extra cost and ended up getting travel insurance for my mom and I. 

The first time I trained and ran a marathon, I came out of that season a changed person. Decades old internal strongholds of unworthiness and shame were broken and I experienced God transforming me from the inside out. I don't know what Paris Marathon holds, or this entire trip with my mom, but I have a strong sense that I won't return the same person. 

Aroma of Christ

 Woah. That was an intense smell. I sat there, feeling my olfactory senses firing on high alert. My internal monologue - what in the world is that smell? Foot smell? Long travel day smell? Definitely person smell. Bad bad bad. What the frick am I smelling?! - attempted to make sense in real time of what felt like an onslaught of layers of smells, none too good. 

Two months ago, Hannah asked if she could host her 16-year old brother for a few days while he was on Spring Break and have him stay with us. She also let us know that he was transgender. I appreciated the heads up, and verbalized it was fine with me; indeed, Hannah's brother, Zach*, sees her as a safe person and I knew that it was important to host him and create space for him.

Two months came and went and on Friday, Zach and Grandma flew in from their respective states to visit Hannah and spend the weekend together. I was in the house when they arrived and while I had been anticipating some level of stepping outside my comfort zone, didn't realize I would come face-to-face with the hard reality of what many trans youth experience: body dysmorphia and related personal hygiene issues. It hit me in the face, the extreme smell. I immediately dissociated and found myself experiencing a high level of discomfort in my own apartment. To put it simply, this was not just teenage boy smell - this was something much much more.  Jenny (who flew out to Kenya for a work trip on Saturday and who would be gone for most of Zach's time with us) encouraged me to approach Hannah and talk about what I was experiencing. I reached out to Hannah, was honest about how the odors effected me, and asked her if she had any ideas on how to reduce the smell and make this week sustainable for all of us. Hannah is someone who is extremely mature and thoughtful and immediately responded with things she would do to try to lessen the odors; she also apologized for not giving Jenny and I a heads up but that she too didn't realize that the odors would be so intense. 

For the remainder of Saturday and today, I found myself internally ruminating, processing, condemning myself. Grace, why are you so hardhearted? Your posture towards Zach is one of selfishness - you've put up a wall between you and him because of something personal like self-hygiene or lack thereof. And so on and on. The thing is, anyone who knows me knows I place a strong value on personal hygiene and cleanliness, especially in the home. I mean, whenever I'm sad my tendency is to cry with God and then get my broom and mop and start to deep-clean the kitchen. With Zach in my personal space, I found myself knee-deep in internal conflict and processing what it means to be hospitable when it's uncomfortable. What does it look like to love someone even if they smell a certain way or rub you the wrong way? It's easy to love people who are not marginalized. It's easy to be hospitable towards people who smell nice and are pleasant enough. I was at odds with myself: the sinful human side who idolizes values like personal hygiene and cleanliness above caring for others well and the other side who desires to live and love like Christ regardless of how they present themselves. 

This past Thursday, I was supposed to meet with my spiritual director, Van. She forgot that we had a session, and so we rescheduled to this afternoon. And I think it was God's providence and way of saying, "I've got you Grace. You're going to struggle internally this weekend but I'm going to create space where you can process with Van - I'm going to speak and encounter you in the time that you have with her." And sure enough, God met me and gave me an image of a rock being refined and being smoothed of bumps. He whispered to me, "Grace, stop worrying needlessly. Unclench those fists."

Later in the evening, Hannah and Zach came home and I found myself pausing to talk to both of them about their day. We chatted for like 20 minutes and it was the first moment where I actually gave myself space to pause and engage with Zach. And it was really pleasant - I was able to just be present instead of running to my room. I found the internal tension melting away as I sat there, perhaps experiencing a glimmer of God's heart towards Zach.

*Name changed for privacy 

 I had therapy today, and it was so very much needed. Coming out of last night's dinner with Mary and Conrad, I realized into the evening that I was tired, stretched thin, and had nothing else to give. This month has been a balancing act of me juggling various things - from choir practice to leading women's group to going to Chi Tab prayer on Tuesdays and prioritizing Saturday morning prayer to persistently/stubbornly clinging unto my marathon training schedule to hosting weekly dinners.. All good things and yet, I'm emotionally and physically tired, worn thin and am reminded that I need to pause and reassess what my schedule currently looks like. 

A lot of today's session revolved around why I do what I do and what my ulterior motives are and I realize that so much of my drive in regards to hosting people is because I want to create spaces for intimacy. Again, not a bad thing but there is this incessant, subtle lie that I need to engineer intimacy, and that if I don't create space then I'll be forgotten. There is a lie that says "people will only love me if I do x, y, and z." Which brings me to ruminate on what it looks like to have intimacy with others as a single woman and have confidence in the fact that I am loved simply because of who I am, and not what I do or what I can offer in relationship; indeed, I can trust that the Lord can and will organically create deeper intimacy in my relationships. I am challenged to think deeply about what it looks like to operate under a mindset of freedom and not fear even as I tap into things that give me joy like hosting.

The thing is, the season has birthed with it many a good opportunity and I'm thankful for being able to lean into those opportunities. However, I also pause at this time and ask God to give me the trust and strength to let go of my to-do list, to lean into Sabbath rest, and to remind me that I am loved simply because of who I am, not the laundry list of what I can produce. 

Lord, have mercy on me, your daughter who is need of fresh waves of grace and love.